Hate This Place

Thursday 23rd October 2003

"...and finally, the father of missing local businesswoman, Sharon Watts, has today publicly declared he believes rival businessman, Jack Dalton, owner of The Imperial Rooms, is involved in her disappearance.. Miss Watts, who was thirty-four yesterday, was forcibly removed from the premises of her nightclub, Angie's Den as she locked up on Tuesday night. Mr. Dalton was voluntarily questioned yesterday and so far, police are satisfied with his non-involvement. However, Mr. Watts and his younger daughter, Vicki Fowler, have stressed that Jack Dalton was never a business rival, and his reputation as a violent, scheming and vengeful man is extremely well publicised in "underground circles."

Dennis Watts himself vanished from the lives of both his daughters for over fourteen years, presumed dead after Mr Dalton himself, says Mr. Watts, ordered his execution. He took exile in Spain and only returned to his hometown when the falsified news of Mr. Dalton's own demise reached him. Says Mr Watts, in a statement issued this morning; "My Princess has been taken for revenge. There is no doubt in my mind that Jack Dalton and his associates are... displeased at my reappearance in the world of the living. The fact I had to hide for so many years means I know there's no way to reason with these men. So they have stolen away the most precious girl in all my world, just to hurt me and my daughter. I will give them anything they want. I just beg, please... that they do not harm my daughter. I just want my Princess home. Stay strong, Princess. We love you"."

Sharon forced her eyes shut, blinking back tears as the colours died away from the TV screen. But even then, she couldn't miss the way the robust man lurking menancingly in the corner, was smirking, proud to see the way she weakened. She bristled immediately, holding on to her father's words. Stay strong. If she didn't, she knew she was as good as dead. Not that any such threats had come. In fact, there'd been nothing to suggest she was a hostage and not a hotel guest, apparant from the fact she had a very moralless someone twice her height and twice her weight stationed outside her door if she dared to head towards it. So she hadn't. No, Sharon had stayed curled up against the large bed she had been shoved roughly against two nights ago. She'd long since abandoned looking out the window, the colour of the thunderous sky making her feel even more out of will. And besides, it had taken precisely thirty seconds of visual assessment to realise she had absolutely no idea where she was. She wouldn't have even known she was still in her home country, had she not been forced to watch all the local news announcements that concerned her.

"Enjoy that little piece did you, Sharon? Very moving I thought."

Instinctively, Sharon scowled. He made her flesh crawl more and more. She'd always been suspicious of him, hated him even, especially from the moment she believed her dad was gone from her forever. And now, she was terrified it was to be the other way round at the self same hands. And she couldn't let him see it or she knew he'd delight in making her feel every second of physical pain. But then of course, it was wasn't really her that he wanted to hurt.

"What's it gonna take Jack?" she demanded in a low hiss.

Jack allowed the folds of his flabby neck to smooth out as he tilted his head back, laughing high and cold. "Always good to be kept in the loop, Sharon, I like it."

"Well, c'mon then!"

He pursed his lips warningly as he levelled his gaze, causing Sharon to shiver in repulsion as his pale yet sharp blue eyes burnt into her own, eager to seek out her fear, to feed from it. But at that moment, he was too impressed by her demanding tone. He didn't like it, and intended to let her know it, but still he was impressed. Sharon had guts her piteous father had never displayed.

"Careful now-" Jack advised in that deceptively soothing tone. "-I don't think I like what you're getting at. What do you think I'm gonna do Sharon? Slice off each of your fingers and send them home to Daddy?"

Sharon recoiled, backed up so hard against the wall as she curled up on the bed that the ridges of her spine were throbbing painfully. But she ignored it, just as she hoped she might learn to ignore everything that was presently happening around her. But Jack refused to remain just a presence and moved steadily over to sink down upon the mattress. His hand snaked over to claim one of Sharon's own, quaking all the more violently as he fought to uncurl each rigid fingertip, stroking down them to separate each finger.

"French manicure eh? Classy. I like that too. Oh dear, I hope this little... holiday... won't inconvenience your appointment shedule? Nothing more unattractive than a woman with peeling cuticles..."

"Don't touch me!" Sharon spat, wrenching herself away. "What do you want for God's sake?"

Another smirk mocked her as it sprang up in the corner of Jack's rough lips, that brush of great hair overhanging the top one. "Oh I have everything I want right here, thank you very much..."

An icy sweep rocketed through Sharon's tense body. She had understood the suggestion in Dalton's tone she thought, and she felt sick with fear. Surely she was wrong? Jack Dalton, he prided himself on his approach, even to the darkest of activities. Surely he was not so common a criminal as to kidnap a woman, any woman, Sharon supposed frightfully, just to...

"...because I've certainly got Daddy's attention haven't I?"

Sharon hated that she could not hold back her terrified tears, hated even more how they burnt at her skin as they slid slowly down her face. Jack seemed to draw some perverse pleasure out of watching the journey of each miserable droplet.

Her throat feeling immediately raw, Sharon murmured; "What are you going to do to me?"

"Do?" Dalton echoed, his broad back straightening in a jolt. He sounded pretty affronted, and Sharon was made evn more queasy, especially as flecks of spit hit her face. "What sort of man do you think I am?"

Sharon spat out a bitter laugh in reply. "You've kidnapped me, Jack. You left my dad for dead at the bottom of a canal. I don't think you're a man at all."

"Well, well-" he answered quietly, sucking in an apprehensive breath. "-we're not all that grateful, are we Sharon?" Sharon opened her mouth to vehemently protest, but Jack lifted a chubby finger to silence her. "We could have done this the usual way you know. Grubby warehouse in Hackney, you tied to a pillar, weeks of grime in your hair, sitting in your own filth. But I thought no, a lady deserves more, especially on her birthday."

"This is more?" Sharon shrieked angrily. "I'm dragged from my home, from my family, with no reason, no explanation. I'm a prisoner."

"Oh yes." Jack nodded sombrely, lacing his hands together. "We mustn't forget that. Chez Dalton, Cava, soft pillows... oh it's tragic."

"You have no idea..."

"No." he agreed again, sighing breathily as he pulled himself up. "I admit, I don't. No, no... that will have a few days I'm afraid. Got to make that father of yours sweat a little bit. But don't worry, Sharon, my boys will look after you."

"I know what "looking after" means to your sort." she hissed accusingly.

Eyes wide, Jack again was impressed. "My sort?" he echoed. "Now, now, Sharon! I'm not about to kill you and I resent the suggestion. Deeply. Killing's so... unnecessary. Let's keep it that way shall we?"

His piercing eyes flashed and Sharon read danger, biting into her lip to keep herself quiet as she cast her eyes down to the duvet. Because she knew that Jack Dalton deemed nothing unnecessary in reality.

"Do you want my dad? Is that was this is? Cos you know... he'd be here like a shot, he'd let you do whatever you wanted..."

Jack listened steadily. "Have you ever played Trivial Pursuit?" he asked in a humoured whisper as soon as Sharon stopped speaking. She jolted at his odd reply.

"What?"

"Can't stand the flamin' thing myself." Jack shrugged with a sneer. "It's all too easy. And I'm sure you'll agree Sharon, it's no fun winning if the game weren't a challenge. The last thing I want is your old man making it easy on me. I'd be disappointed if he dared. I intend to enjoy this. Good night."

Without giving Sharon the chance to say a word, Jack swept from the room, the door seemingly opening on his approach and leaving the equally well dressed if not much slender neanderthal stationed on the other side of the door as Sharon's own personal guardsmen, to hold it open for his Boss' departure. A wordless understanding seemed to happen between the two of them that Sharon could not decipher as Jack went by and his charge stepped inside the room, stood tall against the wall and leaving his Boss to snap the door decidedly shut.

Listening to Jack's hefty footsteps die away along the landing for a few seconds, Sharon threw herself back against the bed, screaming in frustration as fresh tears drenched the pillow her angry fists pounded at.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" she roared at her guardian as she rolled helplessly over onto her side. He flinched at her savageness and she sniffled a little less as she sat up again. "Jamie... that's your name isn't it?"

He flinched again, his composure entirely shattered as he turned his head to look quizzically at her.

Taking that as nothing more than confirmation, Sharon scooted to the edge of the bed, swinging her bare feet back and forth. "You look how I feel. Assuming that you feel too of course. Can't be too sure given your line of work."

Jamie looked hesitantly away and remained silent.

"Wow." Sharon observed, hunching her shoulders as she continued to look at him. "This could get boring quickly. I mean, how long am I gonna be here, Jamie? Oh c'mon, speak will ya? Or are you struggling with the number of syllables?"

At that question, Jamie's attention was begrudgingly refocussed. "You take the piss."

"Yeah, well, you take hostages so..." And she shrugged, dismissing him. But he was quickly defensive.

"I didn't... I wouldn't..." But he seemed to realise instantly he had said too much and scowled again, biting hard into his lip as he returned to silence. But Sharon had heard everything she needed to.

"You're new..." she said gently. "Not quite made of stone yet eh? You never broken someone's kneecaps then Jamie? Fired a gun? Swallowed a johnny full of crack? Ah... I always thought Jack got 'em young. Well never mind, got a lot to teach you, he has. Really must be something in the taste of blood for Jack."

Sharon was sure she saw Jamie's lip quiver, and he was pretty certain of it too, so much so that the only colour left in it was from blood. Sighing heavily, he abandoned his rigid stance and sank down on the bed beside Sharon. Unlike with Jack, she made no effort to escape his proximity. She was too taken by him. He was evidently so young, and yet aged so much by his haggard face. Where anger would have burnt once in his eyes, strong enough to make Jack enthuse so about his prospects, tiredness and misunderstanding reigned. Just like Sharon, he looked as though he was somewhere he definitely didn't want to be.

"Aren't you scared?"

"Why?" Sharon returned softly. "Are you supposed to make me that way? Cos if you are, then we might as well skip the preamble."

But Jamie's eyes shimmered sincerely as he shook his head. "If he knew what he was gonna do, I'd tell ya. But I don't, I really don't. You're a character you though, aren't ya? Think he likes that you ain't a pushover."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"No." Jamie blustered guiltily, looking down. "I'm just saying... I don't think he will hurt ya."

Relief momentarily flooded through Sharon. She believed him. Maybe cos there was little else to believe in right now and besides Jack's, Jamie's had been the only constant face in her life since the night she had been bundled in one painful blur from the club. All she could remember were gruff voices, screams that had probably been her own as she had tried to fight them off, as the walls began to spin. She'd thought they were just after the takings until... well until she had been forced into the back of a car, made to walk by having one of them kick repeatedly at the backs of her legs, a gun pressed into the small of her back, and a heavily gloved hand clamped to her mouth to put pay to any ideas she might have had about screaming.

She might have tried it if she hadn't been so terrified, barely breathing, her chest so tight as a nervous sweat broke out upon her feverish skin that she could barely breathe. She'd been forced to lie down on the backseat, the gun still pressed threateningly into her shuddering body. She could still feel the cool metal as if it had never been pulled back from her form. She had never been so terrified in all her life, the only mercy in that fact being that she was indeed too terrified to even think where all this madness had sprung from. These men had come for her undoubtedly - they hadn't even gone near the till which, since she'd had time to think about it, seemed pretty idiotic to Sharon. Shouldn't they at least have tried to disguise the obviousness of her abduction?

But then of course, no. Jack wanted Den's attention. And even Sharon had to admit, this was one fantastically obvious way of getting it. But what could Jack want from Den? The thrill of the chase, procuring the kill? Was Den to be the victim in Sharon's place? Oh she didn't know, was made too sick to think on it, especially as she looked upon Jamie. 

She was right. He did look how she felt. Fragile. And Sharon found, strangely, that there was another part of her able to hate Jack of Jamie's behalf. Because whatever happened to her, and the hundreds of others Jack would no doubt find himself in the future, he would also still be looking for the brawn, the help, the muscle, and honing in on weaknesses in men like Jamie and turning them into... killers? Was Jamie to become Sharon's own any day soon? Even while considering the likelihood of it, Sharon pitied the man sat beside her, even as fear squirmed in her stomach.

"Well, you best hope so eh? Cos my guess is, you'll be the lucky guy that gets to do it, and by the look of ya, you ain't ready just yet. I think I like that about you, Jamie. Yeah, I think I do."

Thursday 23rd October 2003

11pm

Pushing down the lid of the box that just a few minutes ago housed a perfectly folded cerise silk nightdress and matching sash dressing gown, hand-delivered by Jamie at half past nine just in case she "was ready to get her head down", Sharon settled back on the bed, calling gently; "I'm dressed now, Jamie..."

The door-handle tweaked as his pressure from the other side forces it down, sliding back into the room, with the smallest smile. He should smile more often, he looks better for it, Sharon considered. Since they'd dared to begin talking, they hadn't really stopped. She was well aware he could be lying to her, and she'd told him she was prepared to accept the probablity of it too. That was when he gave her his saddest smile. But when she answered his questions or just spoke about herself, Sharon chose to speak the truth. She didn't see a reason not to. If it was Jamie that was gonna have to come to her, hands shaking no doubt and kill her, then mightn't he just as well know the truth of the person whose life he would be stealing?

Jamie however, did not look murderous in the slightest. His features had softened a lot, were a lot less dark and tired, as if he was unburdened in some way. He'd chosen not to speak of the brutalities of his work, instead told Sharon about himself. He was known as the Karate Kid, because he'd apparantly been the youngest person in the county to acquire a black belt. That settled Sharon a bit, made Jamie look a lot less vulnerable. He could obviously handle himself well with that kind of credit to his name. So Sharon wondered what could make him so afraid of Jack? And fear was all it could be. She refused to believe respect could feature in any way when Jack thought nothing of these men.

In Jamie's case, it was nothing like that. Apparantly, Jack had romanced Jamie's mother. The idea of anyone being taken in by Jack in such a way made Sharon nauseous. But still, the level of their conversation definitely made her feel compassion for Jamie, and a lot less frightened and lonely in his company too. He listened intently as she confessed how worried she was for Den & Vicki's state of mind at the moment. To know in herself that she was fine, being treated as well as this was not enough, not while she knew how frantic her family would be. She'd tried not to cry, but the tears had overcome her and Jamie, of course powerless to help, had mumbled something about needing to get back outside.

But there he was now, having obediently stepped outside to allow Sharon the privacy to change when she was pretty sure any other watchman would have leered over her readily, and he came forward, his step as rushed as his speech.

"Jamie, slow down... what?"

"They can't know I've got it Sharon, you understand? You have to be quick."

Hastily, he pulled a mobile phone from his deep pocket. Sharon's mouth hung agape in wonderment as he pressed it into her shaking hands.

"Call your Dad. Let him know you're OK."

Grateful tears welled in Sharon's eyes and she stretched up on her toes to wrp her arms tight around Jamie's neck.

"Thank you..." she whispered sincerely against his ear.

"Don't worry about that." he said dismissively as he pushed her gently back on to the balls of her feet. "Just... make sure you withhold the number alright or I am so much more than a dead man."

Realising how implicitly he meant those last few chilling words, Sharon nodded anxiously, head already bowed to stab at the keys as he moved back and sank onto the bed, watching her pace as the call connected.

"Yep?" her father enquired, with the heaviest of sighs that told her he hadn't slept from the moment she was gone. 

But oh, just to hear his voice, she tremored all the more, a lump swelling painfully in her throat as she whispered tenderly; "Dad, it's me..."

"Princess?" Den barked desperately, alert now for nothing but the fear that he might lose her again as unexpectedly as she had come. "Who's there with you Princess, is... is Dalton there? Oh... Sharon!"

"It's alright!" she soothed. "I swear to you, I'm alright. Please don't worry about me. Tell Vicki not to worry. Go to sleep. Both of you. It'll be alright. I love you."

Those last three words had robbed her of breath and she began to choke. She could hear Den's calls for her response fizzing away in the handset but she simply could not placate him. Jamie leapt up and wrenched the phone from her hand, ending the call and helping her straighten out so that she might force some much needed air into her lungs. He went into the bathroom to get her some water as he advised her to get comfortable on the bed. He could still hear how she was struggling to breathe as he went back and handed her the glass. She took it gratefully into her shaking hands and tried to sip at it. Jamie felt the need to lean forward and support her. Guilt was kicking at him on the inside as he drew back, dropping the covers over Sharon's upper body.

"It didn't help, did it?" he questioned mournfully.

But Sharon wriggled round as she scooched her head into the pillow and smiled softly. "I think I'll sleep tonight."

"Good." Jamie smiled back and pushed himself up from the bed, leaving the half-drunk glass of water on the bedside table and then going across the room to the door, turning out the light. "Night." And he stepped back out into the corridor, supposing that Sharon was asleep before the door clicked shut, leaving her in the complete darkness.

Friday 24th October 2003

2am

When Sharon had fallen asleep hardly mattered. How well she had slept (which was very well, thanks to the bizarre comfort the phone call home had given her) was now too inconsequential. Because the thrashing and painful thudding and angry yelling, no, they weren't confined to Sharon's sub-conscious. The darkness in which she found herself was not that or her mind, but of the room itself. It was all real. The thudding was making the wall reverberate and was always followed by a painful yell that made Sharon wince. Her head still fuzzy from a little of that much needed sleep, she groped around on the bedside table to flick the switch of the lamp - but instead found her hand colliding forcefully with a glass that with a very rebellious splatter, decided to empty its contents over the side of the little table and onto the carpet. 

Sharon cursed beneath her breath, and as the yelling from the landing intensified, she pulled back the duvet and swung her legs to the floor, promptly placing her feet in the wet patch created by the water. She shivered as it seeped through the skin of her toes, but was up too quickly to really register it, flying blindly across the room, slamming into the light switch there and pulling open the door.

"Jamie?"

Jamie was indeed still out on the landing. But he was not keeping watch anymore. Oh no. For the pained yells were his, and rightfully so. He was being dragged across the landing by four of Dalton's most sour and blood-thirsty henchmen, being beaten in any way and anywhere he could be struck as they went along. Fear beat immediately, making the whole of Sharon's body tense. It was her senses that seemed to scream for her as she bolted forward.

"Jamie! Jamie! Oh my God, what are you- stop it! Leave him alone! JAMIE!"

She was determined to go after them, but a fifth bully Sharon had not registered as the furious hot tears blurred her vision, stepped into her path, holding her back, almost sounding amused as he said; "Uh, no... I don't think so, darlin'!"

"Get the fuck off me!" Sharon yelled, fighting against his restraint as still Jamie suffered, his torment almost gone from Sharon's view. "They're killing him, can't you see they're-"

"'Nother drama queen, eh? Jesus, Jack don't half know how to pick 'em."

"A drama queen?" Sharon spat viciously as she looked up into his face for the first time and found her palms were itching to smack that smug look right off his face. "Didn't you see what they were doing to him? They were... why were they...? He was supposed to be... looking after me!"

"Yeah." came the dry reply. "Definitely been looking after you, hasn't he, Sharon?"

Sharon flinched. "How do you know my name? Who the Hell are you?"

But the stranger seemed oddly amused by her venom and nodded towards the room she had flown from in such a panic. "Get back in there and I'll tell ya. You don't and... oooh, it won't be pretty."

"Why?" she demanded. "I get a beating too, do I?"

His face darkened, the corners of his rough lips sinking dramatically. "Do you mind?" he snapped hotly back. "I do know where the fuckin' line lies!"

"Yeah? In Jamie's skull someplace?"

"Oh, I like you." he observed smoothly. "You're quick, that's good."

"Yeah? Well, you're a fuckin' animal. Go and wash the blood off your hands, you spineless shit."

"Oooh, got some flair too. This gets better and better this does."

"You know what? Men like you make me sick!"

"Oh stop it, you're gonna make me blush!"

Unable to retain her anger, Sharon raised her palm to strike him across the face. But he caught her wrist a moment before contact and the corner of his mouth rose again into that intolerable smirk.

"Getting physical already? Well, well, aren't I the lucky one?"

"Take - your - hands - off - me!" Sharon hissed demandingly.

"Well, that's not very polite is it Sharon? Seems to me you couldn't wait to have yours all over me. Not that I'm gonna complain of course..."

Sharon tore herself from his loosened grasp in disgust and turned away back into her room, bile rising in her throat and tears stinging readily in her eyes as she considered the agonising state poor Jamie must have been in by now. She crashed mindlessly through to the bathroom, scrabbling at a roll of toilet tissue to dab at her eyes. They stung too as they adjusted to the bright light she had forced into the room by pulling on the cord. It was then she froze. The mobile Jamie had allowed Sharon to use to call home was sat abandoned next to the cold tap.

"Didn't wanna call home again did ya?"

Frightfully, Sharon whirled around to meet the intrusion of the stranger, leant casually against the doorframe, watching her. It made Sharon shiver slightly in repulsion. She felt too exposed at the moment.

"I don't remember asking you in here." she hissed in reply. But again, this was somehow comical.

"Yeah well, you're not calling the shots now that lovely little Jamie's been... displaced are ya, Sharon?"

This time, her stomach did most definitely jolt she was so sickened by his words, by the sight of him, whoever he might have been - she hated him anyway because he appeared to be revelling so much in Jamie's agony.

"Is that why he's been... beaten to within an inch of his life? Because I made a phone call?"

"No." the stranger assured her with a simple shake of the head. A beat of silence followed and then Sharon was at last offered explanation. "Because he let you make a phone call." He mocked a sad look as Sharon recoiled in horror. "Our Jamie's been a very silly boy..."

Sharon's mouth went dry. "Are they... Are they going to kill him?"

His burst of laughter was cold. "I don't know what you've been watching darlin'..."

Hatred twisted Sharon's stomach. "You just don't care, do you? You couldn't give a fuck whether he lives or dies!"

"There's worse ways to go, love."

Sharon balked, disgusted by his flippancy. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

"Oh yeah." the stranger grinned, apparantly proud to have such information to bestow. "Everyone knows who you are, Sharon. Watts' daughter, right?"

"Yeah... so I was the one stood by that bastard canal watching what I thought was my dad's corpse being dragged out the water. I've seen the worst, darlin', but it don't make what animals like you do to the likes of Jamie any better! You're evil... I hope you've made Jack proud." She offered a tight smile and made to shove past, but he stood in her way. Sharon tilted her head up, looking defiantly into his cold eyes. "Or maybe you haven't huh? I mean, what did you do? Stood at the side, never actually getting your hands dirty!"

With a scoff, he rolled his eyes. "Make your bloody mind up. One minute you're screaming your head off cos poor little Jamie gets what's coming and the next... you're having a go cos I weren't the one that dished it!"

"Gets what's coming? Do you even hear yourself? It was a twenty second phone call!"

"There are rules round here, Sharon. Jamie knows that."

"Or at least he will by the time he's had both his legs broken! Where do you get off on that? He's only nineteen, he's just a kid for God's sake."

The stranger's face darkened again as he muttered; "We all had to start somewhere, sometime, darlin'."

"Well your mother must be so fuckin' proud!"

Sharon flinched as the words left her mouth, sure she'd seen his knuckles flex angrily before he hastily rammed his fists deep into his pockets and turned wordlessly from the room, his eyes stormy and... frightening. Sharon had said something wrong, most definitely, the door slamming furiously after the stranger's departure. And she was left alone in the middle of the lit room, shaking ever so slightly in her flimsy nightdress before she managed to pull herself together and decide to clamber into the bed as soon as she had turned the light out.

But the darkness seemed to terrify her more, taunting her as that one face refused to leave her mind, leave her to sleep. She could not get comfortable, finding that somehow, she was disgusted at herself, without quite knowing what she had done. But she knew, especially with what she had seen happen to poor Jamie that whatever it was had been too much. Fear caused her to hate the stranger more. She was adamant she didn't want to see him again. His eyes had been too cold, and his laughter too warm as he had mocked Jamie's agony. Sharon held the scrunched duvet in her fist, feeling her tears soak through the material. For the first time, she was afraid. She hoped she'd never see the stranger again. She only wanted to see Jamie.

Please be OK, Jamie... Please be OK...

Friday 24th October 2003

11am

The knocking at the door went through Sharon's throbbing head like a pneumatic drill, but at least it pulled her readily from her stupour. She had fallen asleep a little after 6am, and didn't feel any better for the hours that had passed. But hope swelled in her tight chest as she pushed back the heavy duvet. She'd only known one person to knock at the door for the whole time she had been here.

"Jamie?" she called out croakily.

The doorhandle went down willingly. Sharon's heart began to pound a little faster than she could bear.

"Uh, no..."

She recoiled immediately in disgust. "Get out."

He shrugged. "Can't. Jack asked me to make sure you're OK."

Her shrill cold laughter bounced from the ceiling. "Does he actually think I can be OK? What is OK to you lot eh? All four sodding limbs attached? Oh yeah, then I'm peachy."

The corner of his mouth lifted into an insincere smile and he turned away, closing the door with a decided click. Sharon blinked in surprise, pretty sure she'd asked him to leave.

"He's alright."

Sharon frowned in confusion.

"Jamie."

A cold chill went through the woman as his name was mentioned, her lips quivering as she fought to repeat it. But her attempts were fruitless. "You'd care would ya?" she hissed scathingly.

He only blinked and returned steadily; "I thought you might. Made it to A&E about 5, yeah? He'll be fine."

"Then what?" Sharon demanded. "You welcome him back into the family, just to tear him apart again?"

Shoulders hunched, he replied, "Listen Sharon, you get made to pay for your mistakes round here, OK? It ain't pretty but that's just the way it is. Jamie tows the line from now on, there ain't gonna be any more trouble."

But Sharon didn't believe him. "How you could do that..."

"Me? Nah, don't wanna get me hands dirty do I, Sharon? I was just there to keep you out of it. Can't risk marking the goods can we?"

Scowling, Sharon looked away. This left him to shake his head in disbelief.

"Wow, Jack's right about you, ain't he? You really are an ungrateful little bitch."

"Excuse me? What the Hell is there to be grateful for?"

"Golden Boy's alive ain't he?" he snapped back without hesitation. "I didn't have to tell you that... in fact, it'll probably cost me a few fractures an' all, but I thought, nah, the woman's had it rough, give her a break, Dennis, and what do I get?"

"No more than you deserve!"

"Hey, I coulda let you throw yourself into that last night. Wouldn't be looking at quite such a pretty face then would I eh?"

"That's right." Sharon hissed, nodding in repulsed understanding. "Cos all I am right now is a piece of meat right?"

Dennis laughed again. "You really don't have any idea do ya? Jack's keeping you like a fuckin' queen and right now, I ain't got a fuckin' clue why! You ain't meat darlin', no way. You're mink. If all Jack wanted from your old man was a pound o' flesh, he'd've just had you killed straight off, left ya on the floor of that bloody club of yours. But here you are, lap of luxury yeah and Jack, he ain't batting an eyelid."

Sharon gulped down her mistrust, fear shaking her once again. "Wh-Why not?"

"Going through what you have love, I can't believe you're so naive." He tilted his head to the side and simpered mockingly as he studied her intently. "It's kinda sweet, really."

"Just tell me what he wants. Please."

Dennis sank down on the edge of the bed, smile broader as Sharon flinched, gathering up the thrown back duvet to cover herself. He leant forward and in a low and daunting whisper said; "Bit of a ladykiller is Jack."

Sharon's stomach lurched unfavourably and she pressed her hand over her mouth.

"Hmmm..." Dennis observed, nodding slowly as his gaze lingered on Sharon. "I'm guessing you're not up to breakfast then?"

"Oh trust me..." Sharon hissed savagely, eyes narrowed in contempt as she pushed her hair back and forced herself to look at him. "...I'd sooner starve. I'd rather die than take anything from animals like you."

"Still gutsy eh? I like that. Shame it won't last."

"Gonna break me into as many pieces as Jamie are you, Dennis? Well c'mon then!"

He frowned at her, shaking his head at an odd angle. "Don't give me reason to hurt ya, Sharon. I don't wanna do that."

"What?" she goaded sharply. "Am I not good enough now? You and that pack of wolves can tear Jamie to shreds, but I get dragged from my home for some sort of revenge and you... won't even lay a finger on me? You know what Dennis, you're a disappointment to your trade."

"You reckon?" he threw back dangerously. "You can think what you want, darlin', you don't matter to me."

"So make it easy on yourself. No-one else here is there? And I... I don't think you like me very much..."

"Not much gets past you, does it?"

"Well, no. Cos you're still here. And I'm probably getting right on your last nerve. What happens when you flip, Dennis?"

"Alright!" he barked hotly, leaping up and rounding on her. "Get it into your head, I ain't here to hurt ya. Fuckin' hell, if I was, I'd have done it already just to shut you up! All I'm supposed to do is make sure you're OK."

"Well I'm fine." she spat back.

"Great, so can I go now?"

Sharon gave him a tight smile as she nodded. "Well either you go or I do. Yeah, the bathroom window's looking more and more inviting..."

Dennis froze, his eyes narrowed as he tried to comprehend the sight of the woman in front of him. "You haven't...?" Without waiting for a reply, he bolted through the bathroom. "Oh you stupid bitch!"

Affronted, Sharon climbed up from the bed, quickly pulling on her dressing gown, leaping in fright as the bathroom window slammed shut. Dennis came back into the room with a face like thunder.

"Are you trying to piss him off? Jack don't appreciate cliché stunts Sharon, alright? They get him very upset! Do you know what happens when Jack gets upset?"

"He ruins lives." she answered certainly, shaking furiously. "He murders...."

Dennis ran his tongue around his cracked lips, nodding slowly. "That's right, yeah. And d'you know who he'll be coming for? Do ya?"

"Oh for God's sake, calm down. If I wanted both my legs broken, I'd have jumped already wouldn't I? But I haven't! I'm still here, having to suffer arseholes like you!"

"OK, now Sharon, now you're annoying me."

She stepped confidently forward, tilting her chin up so he might swing at either side of her jaw, or his hands press around her throat. She hated him too much to be afraid of him. "I'm right here, Dennis..."

A soft and yet still cold laugh left him at the moment Sharon flinched, his hand raised, but not threateningly, his knuckles stroking across her cheek until his palm was caught forcefully around her jaw, jerking her head up.

"More than me life's worth than to touch you Sharon. Oh no, Jack needs you in perfect condition. He likes you, y'know. Not quite so keen on your old man, but then, he ain't exactly good looking is he, whereas you have got such a pretty face. Don't make Jack put noses out of joint, darlin', cos yours'll be the first and that'd just be tragic."

Friday 24th October 2003

11:20 am

That cold smile curving his hairy lip, Jack leant across the vast desk, pushing a filled whiskey tumbler towards Dennis as he came, as summoned, through the door. Then Jack settled back, his thick fingers locked together.

"Boss?"

"Ah Dennis, good man... sit."

Nodding, Dennis took his place in the vacant chair opposite and waited. Straightening his back and taking in one extensive breath, Jack asked; "What do you make of our... guest then, Dennis?"

A sarcastic laugh shook the younger man. "Opinionated, ain't she?"

"Gets that off her old man." Jack grumbled.

"Yeah but... that ain't really who he is is it? This Den bloke? Didn't 'im and his missus adopt her or summat?"

"That he did, son. But what you gotta know about Watts is blood ain't thicker than water. Which is gonna make this embarrassingly easy by my reckoning."

"So... what are you waiting on exactly?"

"Ah well, see, that bit's entirely up to Den. Have to admit, I'm looking forward to seeing what he throws out. It's entertaining tempting desperate men. Besides, we never gave Den a homecoming did we?"

The corner of Dennis' mouth instinctively sprang up. "You're not just gonna kill 'im are ya, Jack?"

Jack's smile crashed from his lips. "I never make the same mistake twice, Dennis, never. Obviously, death wasn't agonising enough for this low-life. There are other ways to crucify a man - why else do you think we've got his damn Princess locked away in the tallest tower? Den Watts ain't daft, luckily the local plods are-" As Jack smirked, Dennis' glass, mid-way to his lips tilted towards his boss in a humoured salute. "-but I'd say the only reason Daddy ain't coming haring round here all guns blazing is cos he knows that this time, I'd be putting the bullet through his head. Or worse, Sharon's."

But Dennis shook his head dismissively. "You wouldn't do that."

"What makes you so sure?" Jack questioned quietly, an accusatory flair in his tone.

Dennis, however, was unmoved, smiling teasingly. "You like her too much."

Jack laughed gently, a suggestive glint unmissable in his eye. "Yes, there is something about her."

"Yeah, nothing to do with the fact she's the daughter of the man you've been wanting to destroy for fifteen years eh, Jack?"

He waved his chunky hand dismissively.

"Irrelevant. Very attractive woman, don't you think?"

Dennis shrugged as he pulled his ever present packet of cigarettes from his pocket and sparked up, guarding the glame of his lighter with the screen of his palm, dropping it and the packet messily onto the table, settling back as he took the first toke. "She's alright, I s'pose. Not exactly out of the ordinary though is she?"

"Two bit barmaids might do it for you, my boy-"

"She is a two bit barmaid!"

Jack ignored this protesting interjection for all but a dark look that resulted in Dennis hastily biting into his lip. "-but some of us prefer women with a bitta class."

"'Nother East End barmaid? What makes you so sure she's got it?"

Jack smirked and tilted his head forward to indicate Dennis himself. "Been giving you what for hasn't she?"

"Doin' me head in." Dennis agreed.

"Well, you know what you can do about that."

Against the surface of the desk, Jack's hand promptly curled into a fist. Dennis levelled his gaze to his boss' and pretended not to have seen. Jack of course, noticed, but oddly, nodded in approval.

"Good lad. I like strength in a woman, see. She'll be harder to crack than most, I admire that. And if I'm going to have everything else from her, I might leave her with something. It's Daddy I want."

Dennis blinked, with little more to offer to his understanding. Curiousity burnt inside and he found that now Jack's latest plan was well under way, he could not hold it back. "How did you find out where he was?"

Jack sighed heavily. "Thorn in my side that man. Still infuriates me that I didn't manage to get rid of the double-crossing little weasel the first time round. Of course, someone else paid the price, but that still left Den at large. He got hit alright, went down with a bullet inside him. But he weren't out. And you don't get away from that sorta mess without a bitta help do ya? And I've always had my suspicions about who helped him. Guess it's pretty fortunate I had a little run-in with Jan that while back..."

"Jan?" Dennis echoed, jolting a little as sense was made. "But she's-"

As Jack nodded sombrely, Dennis was stunned into silence.

"Police say it was suicide. Tragic really. But still Dennis, you know me, I don't like to argue with the law."

Dennis sat there silently, rigidly toking on the cigarette as it all became so clear. Jan was the one with the answers. Jack was the one with the questions. She'd given, a gun to her head, a knife to her throat, oh it hardly mattered now. She'd given and Jack... Jack had taken. Dennis remembered well what Jack had done soon after Jan's death. He'd taken his own little holiday, a few months in Hawaii. They'd carried on without him, directed by Jack's second, Andy. There'd been excited whispers in the world around that Jack's ticker had packed up, which Dennis knew was absolute rubbish because Andy made a point of informing him a few select others of Jack's latest instructions. No way was Jack a goner, but, oh of course. Whispers were supposed to get round... go as far afield as Den Watts' door.

Now Den was back... and so was Jack. And with Princess Sharon in his possession, it was pretty obvious there wasn't room enough for the both of them!

"Well... Sharon's a missing person now ain't she? What are we-" At Jack's raised eyebrow, Dennis quickly corrected himself. "-am I supposed to do with her?"

"Nothing. She stays where she is until I say different alright? Get her what she wants, when she wants it. Be nice... if you can!"

"I'll try." Dennis replied obediently. "She'll know I'm forcing it though."

"Well don't." Jack warned him sharply. "Learn to like the woman. It'll be good for you... it's not her fault you've got the intelect of a gnat, boy."

Dennis laughed dryly, feeling a dismissal in his boss' words and pulling himself up from the chair. "Cheers Jack."

"Well..." he said, sucking in a dramatic sounding breath through his pursed lips as he looked back down to his papers. "...if you don't want the work-"

"No, I didn't say that!" Dennis answered defensively. "I'll do it alright, like you asked. She just... rubs me up the wrong way, that's all."

Jack paused and levelled his gaze again, smirking knowingly as he leant back. "You know why that is don't you?"

Dennis remained silent, throwing over an odd look through narrowed eyes as he shook his head in cluelessness.

"She's just like you."

"Yeah!" he scoffed shrilly, not needing a moment to dismiss it. "Her, the classy two-bit, and me the brain-dead puppet, you pulling me strings? I see that!"

"Pulling your strings?" Jack spat, his eyes flaring wildly. "Who d'you think you're talking to? You're a very free man, Dennis, you've always known that. You don't like how things work around here, the door's over there."

"People don't walk away from you, Jack, no-one's that stupid."

"You were beginning to sound it."

"Well I ain't." Dennis assured him flatly. "I know me place, OK?"

"Glad to hear it." Jack replied with a curt nod as he dropped his gaze to the papers again.

Dennis sighed and stepped back towards the door. His hand closing around the handle, he glanced back. "I don't... have to do anything else, do I? With Sharon?"

"Well of course you do!" came the bright reply. "You look Dennis, you don't touch, understand? That pleasure's mine."

"What are you-?"

"Ah-ah!" Jack raised one podgy finger, waggling it in dismissal. "Can't have you ruining the surprise now can I? Now go."

Friday 24th October 2003

02:30 pm

Stood rigid against the wall, Dennis somehow found he couldn't take his eyes from Sharon. Maybe it was just cos she was so sour-faced. The silence was literally killing him through boredom. He'd rather they'd descended into another sniping match by now, at least they were entertaining. She'd literally been sat hunched on the bed for the last three hours, scowling at him. He'd long since stopped being amused by her sullenness.

"Oh c'mon Sharon!" he sighed in exasperation, pulling back what must have been his fiftieth cigarette from his lips. "You seriously gonna spend God knows how many days just giving me evils?"

"I have nothing to say to you." she snapped back.

"Yeah well, right now I couldn't care, cos I can't stand silence."

"What do you want then Dennis? Tell me, what can I possibly do to make this easier on you?"

But he didn't flinch at her savage tone. He smirked, welcoming it. "Keep talking." he advised with a tilt of his head before taking another steady toke. "I reckon you'll get there."

"You disgust me, y'know that?"

"Well I ain't here to be your best friend, love."

"So what are you here for? Besides to stop me jumping out the bathroom window? Because you know what... you haven't shifted... you've barely even blinked. And I despise having someone stood over me twenty-four-seven, my dad could tell you that!"

She whimpered as the word left her mouth, pressing her hand over to stifle the miserable sound.

"I hate this. I hate it! What the fuck did I do?"

Straightening up away from the wall, Dennis shrugged awkwardly. "I dunno. You were there, I guess. Easy..."

Sharon's watery eyes flashed in disgust as she recoiled. "Is that what this is? Cos you can forget that thought right now! You might be used to beating people for a living, but believe me, you come near me, and you might pick up a few tips!"

"No, I didn't mean-"

"Won't look that great in the press will it? Kidnapped, raped and murdered... cos I was expecting at least two of the three..."

Dennis flinched, lips twisted in repulsion as he glared back at her. "What the Hell do you think I am?"

"Do I look like I know? I know what you want Dennis, cos I know what Jack wants. You want me to be terrified. Of what I don't know. Cos you... you could tear me into tiny bloody pieces. We both know that. You could do it any time. That's what you're here for. Can't take your eyes off me in case I disappear. What's your game plan, hmmm? You gonna bother sweetening me first? Want my trust? Or are you just gonna wait til I dare to close my eyes? Make it easy on your conscience. Or don't you have one anymore? How long you been here, Dennis? How long have you been this cold?"

"You ain't having nothing off me." Dennis spat viciously, shaking his head jerkily.

"Then we know where we stand eh? I don't care about you, I'll never care about animals like you. All that matters to me is my family. What is this here eh? This ain't a family. It's a cold, brutal nothing. What does that make you?"

"Me? Safe, love. What about you? Nervous yet? Cos when it comes to it, everyone gets what's coming. Including your old man."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Sharon screamed defensively.

"No! I don't. But... Den will. What d'you fancy, ringside or front row? Ask me nicely, I'll hold your hand all the way through."

Her lip curled, Sharon lunged forward and struck him hard across the face, gratified to hear him wince as her shapely nails cut deep into his flesh.

"Well..." Dennis mused, staring at the speckles of blood glistening on his fingertips. "...that weren't very nice at all, was it Sharon? Oh this isn't good..."

"Whatever you've been told to do, Dennis, do it! Now. I ain't afraid of you, sorry. All I can do is pity you. Great big monster breathing down your neck from what age eh... sixteen? Making you too scared to live life, so that the only way is to destroy everyone else's. Well I'm the one that's here now, so c'mon, give me your best damn shot! Imagine I'm me dad, let your imagination run wild. Or just your fists if you like, I ain't fussed. But don't you ever threaten or even talk about my dad! You ain't fit! You ain't fit for nothing!"

"Don't push me Sharon."

"Oh, but I'd love to! Which button is it now eh? C'mon Dennis, I'm so interested!"

Dennis turned away and concentrated on training his breathing cos he could feel the tension winding in the centre of his chest.

"What kind of man turns his back eh? You losing it Dennis? Well enjoy it sweetheart, cos my dad will tear you into shreds. Because he loves me. Like no-one would ever dare love you!"

Sharon herself jumped back in alarm as Dennis whirled around again, shivering furiously as fire raged in his eyes. She could not move quick enough, unable to assess him and found herself thrown hard against the wall, Dennis' hand jerking her head up as his rough hand closed around her throat.

"Do you want a taster darlin'? Eh? Cos I've got the full menu up here, and I know Jack would rather you tried a bit of everything. He thinks you're a bit like that. Is he right Sharon? Cos you can have anything you want, he says. I am the mug that has to give you anything you want! And bloody Hell, I know what I wanna give you right now. You need to learn when to shut that nasty little mouth of yours... split lips ain't attractive. And believe me, that's kindness. You don't know me, and you can't guess me so don't try! You're making me angry Sharon and if I lose my rag, your Daddy ain't gonna see you in this pretty piece ever again. So let's try and keep it friendly yeah?" 

Sharon tried to turn her head away, but Dennis pulled her back to his gaze, his cold eyes glittering so manically that Sharon's stomach squirmed with an untold fear.

"Yes?"

Shaking, Sharon nodded desperately, a painful twinge shooting up her neck. "Y-Yes." she stammered in a broken whisper.

"Great." he replied flatly, shoving her away. "So let's start again. No point in making yourself miserable, Sharon. Me and you... we've got Jack for that."

Saturday 25th October 2003

12:40 am

Not a word was said between the two of them after that. Not one. Sharon had been terrified into silence. Dennis no longer made the effort to stay within the room, relegating himself to the corridor. Sharon spent the hours that trudged by staring miserably at the walls, hunched over her bent knees and just wishing she could cry. She needed to know there was some emotion still inside her, terrified further to consider that to have been in such company for these few days that she was becoming like them. She didn't want to be cold. What she really wanted was to stop shaking so violently and to sob her wasted heart out. But she hadn't dared because the last thing she wanted was to be heard, ridiculed by anyone. Especially not Dennis. Because now... he did scare her a little.

She'd seen the white-hot venom in his eyes and alone now, couldn't help but wonder what it was she had been probing so viciously in his life that he might throw her against the wall, truly hating her, perhaps needing to threaten her. Oh, and he'd definitely done that, the flesh of Sharon's neck still tender and sore as the angry bruise undoubtedly formed. She could almost feel his hand tightening around her throat as the pain coarsed. And yet she felt nothing towards him. Nothing more hateful and nothing less.

She'd simply stayed hunched on the bed, watching the clock, waiting for nothing and no-one.

It had been about half past eleven when she leapt a foot of the bed in fright, forced to register the activity around her once again as the door crashed open. She recoiled immediately, the need to protect herself instinctive. Because the man that stood in the doorway was not one she knew, and she could feel inside that he also was not one she wanted to know. There was something about him that was all wrong. And the fear itself was sickening.

He'd given her a cold, toothy smile that made her feel like she wanted to retch. He'd swaggered over and dropped two very expensive looking bootles of wine on the bed before pulling a corkscrew out of his deep pocket and swinging it menancingly. Sharon flinched and that toothy sneer mocked her. God knows how much ale was stale on his breath as he leaned in towards Sharon and leered; "Summat ol' Jack wants ya to 'ave, gorgeous." His piggy little eyes never moving higher than her breasts, he added; "Wouldn't mind a bit meself."

The look on Sharon's face was all he needed to recognise how repulsed she was, but that seemed to make his grin wider. Thankfully, Sharon's flesh was allowed to crawl a little less as he drawed back. She had expected so much worse. Well, maybe not from...

She felt her stomach jolt. "Wh-Where's Dennis?"

"Rickman?" the intruder puffed. "Out on business ain't he? And that ain't none of yours." he added warningly. Sharon dropped her gaze obediently, careful not to raise it should bile come up in her throat at the sight of him. "It's just you and me tonight babe."

"No thanks." Sharon shivered with a scowl. "I don't fancy the company."

"That's a shame cos the company definitely fancies you."

His grubby fingertip trailed down Sharon's chest and as it skimmed across her breasts, she shoved it roughly away. "I'd rather you killed me first."

"Oooh." he winced playfully. "Saying it like you mean it eh? Don't tease me, babe, don't tease me."

And he backed out of the room, blowing Sharon a kiss. She turned her head away in disgust, waiting for the door to click shut before she found herself betraying her every instinct and principle - she agreed with Jack Dalton. It might well have been time to get blind drunk. The lack of glasses did not pass Sharon by as she set roughly to work with the corkscrew and neither did the possibility that the liquid was laced with something. But she drank it down steadily from the bottle anyway, hardly caring. Maybe she was bored of loneliness, of this nothingness.

The two bottles saw her through to the first minutes of the new day, and Sharon's head was happily clouded with drunkenness as she slumped back on the bed, cradling the bottle like a child. She laughed to herself about nothing at all, relieved to feel something that so willingly masqueraded as happiness inside her. She was normal again.

She heard the doorhandle creak, but could not even be bothered to entertain the idea of turning her head to take in the presence of the intruder.

"Oh... you're still awake."

The voice registering, Sharon jumped a little, snapping her head round. She bit down into her lip, needing desperately to keep down the relief she felt.

"Hello Dennis. Where's Shrek?"

"Dave you mean? Off to get his beauty sleep. Kinda needs it, don't'cha think?"
 
Sharon nodded. "I'd offer you a drink, but there-" Giggling she glanced pointedly between the two drained bottles. "-there isn't any!"

Smirking, Dennis glanced at the floor, shaking his head. "Not big on wine Sharon, don't worry."

"Oh I wasn't worried." she assured him brightly, shrugging. "Why?" Suspicion, Dennis saw, flashed in her eyes. "Should I have been?"

"Who are you, my mother?"

"Would she have been worried about what you've been doing? Really? What was it tonight eh? Robbery? ABH? Manslaughter?"

Dennis tilted his head back and laughed dismissively, obviously humoured by Sharon's attitude. "Yeah. Course. Me and a couple of the boys went up to the Stanton Estate, and pinched a few old ladies' handbags. Then we sold a crack haul to a load of teenage zombies on the stairs. Then when they couldn't pay, we roughed 'em up a bit for a bit of light relief, y'know? Not sure how many of them still have pulses, but... Jesus... you're just never gonna have any idea are ya?"

"Where have you been?" Sharon demanded.

"Hackney." he snapped back. "So will you stop with the fuckin' questions? I can't stand talking to pissheads, they do my head in."

"Well excuse me for needing a little pick-me-up, not exactly having the time of my life here!"

But Dennis rolled his eyes. "Do you wanna know how much worse it gets? Cos y'know what, I'd tell ya if I thought you could take it. But Jack'd go spare if you threw up on these carpets. And I reckon you would. Get it?"

Scowling, not quite able to look him in the eye, Sharon nodded and winced as a flame of pain shot up her neck, her hand flying up instinctively to rub it gingerly.

Dennis frowned in confusion. Sharon smiled weakly and looked away again. She continued to rub at her neck in wider circles, the movement of her hand displacing the curtain of her hair and revealing the large, angry bruise.

"Jesus..." Dennis' mouth went dry. "Did I...?"

Biting hard into her lip to keep any accompanying words back, Sharon nodded, wishing she hadn't and wincing as the pain came again.

"I shouldn't have..." he mumbled distractedly after a few minutes, rolling the other empty wine bottle between his hands.

"But you did." Sharon stated simply, shrugging.

"S'way over the line."

"Oh shut up." Sharon scoffed. "You don't know where the line is. That's why you live like you live!"

"Don't blame the lifestyle love. God, even Jack knows there's some things you just don't do to a lady. And I've done one of 'em right there." His guilty eyes traced out the mark. "I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did. You have to. Everyone gets what's coming don't they?"

"Yeah, I guess."

As Dennis smiled uneasily, Sharon was staggered to find the same expression had stolen her own lips as they looked at each other. For a second, it was almost as if they understood each other but it disappeared quickly enough however and unease swamped Sharon.

"What does Jack want, Dennis? From me?"

"I dunno." he answered honestly, not quite comprehending how the need to be such had overwhelmed him. It never had before - Dennis' skill at deceit was what set him apart in this world. And yet to her, he could not lie. Maybe it was the fright in her eyes. He'd seen it in too many other faces not to understand it on some level, however cold he was. "I don't think he'll hurt ya though. Not you."

But Sharon could not be placated, hugging her knees anxiously. "But you don't know do you? No-one can know Jack Dalton. Cos that's what Jamie said, and where's he right now? Where did you send him?"

"I told ya... he'll be alright."

"That's not the point!" she cried out desperately. "It's just Jamie... or...me - it's my Dad, it's my sister and I'm scared! Scared I'll never... oh I don't know!"

"Sharon..." Dennis began uneasily, tugging the bottle from her hand. "...you're drunk."

"Oh so what? You're gonna kill me anyway right?"

"I said... I ain't here to hurt ya."

"Well I don't believe you."

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered hotly, pulling himself up from the bed, an empty wine bottle swinging from each hand. "You think if I was meant to, I'd have waited this long? You do my head in! But you never lay your hand on a woman. You just don't. And it don't matter whether you believe this or not, but I am sorry. I really shouldn't have lost my rag like that."

"You've had the frighteners put on you." Sharon said thoughtfully, scooting forward towards the end of the bed. 

But Dennis just laughed weakly. "Listen to you. The frighteners? Do you know they mean to men like Jack? Yearly stints in Intensive Care usually cover it. And in case you hadn't noticed, I still have the use of both legs. Lucky old me eh? Still, clock's ticking right? I shouldn't have touched you."

Sharon's expression was unchanged and Dennis sighed gently, understanding as he turned towards the door.

"Dennis?"

"Hmmm?"

"You'll be alright, won't you?"

He tilted his head, the smirk in the corner of his mouth definitely one of disbelief. It almost sounded as if she was scared of the possibility enough to care, but he'd been alive long enough to know it was never going to be true, especially in the case of the first woman whose throat had so obviously suffered in his own hands. He felt sickened at himself, not least because he knew the ways in which he would be made to suffer and yet somehow, what he felt towards Sharon hardly allowed him to feel that way at all.

He pushed down the door handle and pushed open the door with his elbow, giving her a tight smile as he hunched his shoulders.

"Doesn't matter does it? Neither of us care."

1:00 am

Dennis turned from the room, carefully shutting the door on the darkened room and thinking that was it - that he was simply in for his only available variation on a quiet night. He was very wrong. Slumped against the smooth wall and about halfway down a much needed cigarette, he found Sharon staring at him, almost in disgust in the doorway.

He waved his hand casually, making no effort to extinguish the cigarette at all. "Sorry." he said casually. "I didn't realise we weren't done."

Her scowl only tightened. She drew the door closed behind her and stood against the opposite wall, never taking her glazed and mistrusting eyes from his form. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded in a sharp hiss.

Dennis felt just the one corner of his mouth rise insincerely into a half smile as he tilted his head back against the wall. "Maybe you should try thinking what isn't the matter with me, eh darlin'?"

Sharon scoffed, nodding knowingly. "Oh c'mon then... let's hear it. Bad childhood right? Wore you down, made you weak?"

His eyes flashed again, but Sharon dismissed it simply, too involved in challenging him.

"What the fuck is it with you?" he hissed warningly. "If you were pulling this shit on anyone else, you'd be hard pushed to find a pulse by now, y'know that? I'm a nice guy, Sharon alright and you are seriously trying my patience right now."

"Then put me in my place, c'mon!" Sharon goaded. She hadn't meant to become drawn into another of these exchanges, especially not so soon, but there was just something about him which meant she couldn't stop herself.

Scowling, Dennis looked down, sucking hard on the cork tip of his cigarette. "I told ya..." he said darkly, breathing out the murky plumes. "...more than me life's worth."

Sharon pursed her dry lips, mocking him with one simpering glance as she tilted her head to the side. "Then maybe you should learn to control your bastard temper hmmm?" She purposely pulled her back from her neck, letting it rest behind her shoulders so that the slope of her neck was entirely exposed. She was sure she saw Dennis bite harder into his lip as he continued to stare at the floor. "What happened to not marking the goods? You hurt me, Dennis..."

"You were asking for it." he growled accusingly. As it happened, Sharon half agreed with him but did not miss the way his stormy eyes refused to settle on her neck.

Laughing quietly, Sharon let her hair hang naturally and looked piteously upon him. "Ain't you playing God though is it? It's me, right up til the second you put a bullet through my head or whatever the Hell else you were doing in Hackney."

"I told you-" he repeated angrily as he straightened his back ready to defend himself. "I'm not-"

"But what if I am?" Sharon challenged stiffly. "What if I wanna hurt you back?"

Dennis shrugged lazily. "I can't stop ya. And the good news is, having blood on your hands never goes out of fashion, so congratulations." 

"So he would kill you then?"

"Oh yeah. Slowly. Painfully. He's quite imaginative, Jack."

Sharon shook her head sadly, eyes narrowed as she tried to comprehend the man in front of her. "Why does he have so much power over you?"

His soft laugh was cold, born simply to mock her. "You know what I really can't stand about you Sharon? I mean, really can't stand? You've got a really sugary voice. Make out you're all heart, and you know what? You're just as cold as the rest of us!"

"Us?" she spat fiercely. "I'm nothing like you. I'll never... I don't have to half kill people to get through every day!"

"Don't you fuckin' dare judge me, cos you don't know shit, love alright? What do you think would happen if I didn't... didn't-"

"I don't care." Sharon looked away in disgust.

"You don't have to." Dennis seethed resentfully. "You're gonna get out of here fine, go back to people that love you. And the rest of us? We're here til the day we die. Dunno when that is exactly either. Jack's probably crossing off the days on a desk calender. But this... it's life."

"But there's... a world out there." Sharon began to tremble, inwardly kicking herself as she realised how naive the words sounded, even just leaving her mouth.

"You obviously ain't been out in it that much have you darlin'? No-one else lives out of a picture book Sharon. The whole fuckin' world is cruel and ugly. You just have to get used to it. You look out for number one. Nothing else to do."

Sharon sighed heavily and slid down the wall to the floor. Dennis threw her an odd look as she looked up at him, knees bent up to her chest.

"So this-" she began with a defeated gesture. "-this is all you ever wanted to be, what you wanted out of life? Just to be another one of Jack's thugs? Where's your drive? Your ambition to do... anything?"

"I made it to 21, di'n't I? Not even sure I'm worth that. But yeah, I gave up hoping long ago sweetheart."

"Well then... nothing in your life means a thing to you. You're just waiting for your number to be up!"

Dennis smiled wryly and straightened up away from the wall, settling himself down on the carpet beside Sharon. "Yeah. You're getting there."

"That's horrible."

"Well, I weren't expecting a bed of roses..."

But Sharon was barely listening, too content with studying his face and suddenly realising how drained he looked. "What are you doing here, Dennis?"

Resting his head against the wall, he turned to look at her, giving her a weak smile as he hunched his shoulders for a moment. "Ain't sure. I got this feeling you're trying to make me better than I am. Don't bother Sharon, yeah? I was past redemption before I was in double figures. This is just what I have to do. There ain't nothing out there for guys like me. I just hope I piss off memorably you know? Doubt Jack'd do me the honour though. And when it's your time, I'm guessing there ain't much time to think about where you'd like your body parts to be found. I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't talk like that." Sharon pleaded shakily, ill feeling swirling readily in her stomach.

Dennis shrugged. His chosen topic of conversation didn't seem to be causing him the slightest bit of unease.

"Jack... trusts you, don't he?"

"Jack? Trust? Nah. It's do or die round here - your old man must be the only bloke in history that's managed to do both. I think I like that." Seeing the pain that swept across Sharon's face at the mention of Den, Dennis straightened his head and concentrated on a spot on the opposite wall. "Jack picks us all off in the end. S'pose he gets bored. And I've been around for twelve fuckin' years more or less. He must be sick of the sight of me. So yeah, whatever. I ain't fussed."

Sharon flinched, feeling sicker and sicker. "How can you say that?"

Dennis' neck jerked and his eyes burnt into hers again, telling her simply; "Just can."

Something new kicked inside of Sharon. Sympathy.

That was until fear shook her. She almost screamed at the shrill sound that shattered their uneasy tranquility, only managing to bite it back as she realised it was Dennis' mobile phone. He leapt up like someone had just dropped scalding water in his lap, frenzied as he tugged the handset from his back pocket. Sharon's stomach muscles tightened frightfully as she watched him. He could feel her eyes upon him and turned away anxiously, striding up the length of the corridor to be out of her earshot as he accepted the call.

But Sharon refused to be shaken off. Her eyes itched with tiredness, her head had begun to throb as was her level of drunkenness. These were the things that told her how late it was. She could feel that for Dennis to receive a call so late meant bad things and mistrust was threatening to tear apart the every conflicting emotion that had presented themselves in these last few minutes. And somehow, Sharon didn't want that to happen. Dennis was the man that held her life in his hands and she wanted to be able to trust him. She couldn't quite make herself believe she liked him, but she knew how true it was when he said to her that so much worse could have happened to her by now.

But maybe this was it. She crept closer and closer to where Dennis stood in the middle of the dimly lit hallway, not saying a word, head bowed as he listened intently to his instructions. And maybe the instruction was Sharon. To silence her... to get rid of her.

Catching sight of her creeping ever closer out the corner of his eyes, Dennis glared at her, frowning and therefore warning her off without words. But she tilted her chin defiantly, listening to him murmur;

"Be right there. Yep."

He clicked the phone shut and released a heavy sigh as he clutched it tight in his fist. Animation flooding through his body as if a switch had been flicked inside him, he spun round a quarter turn on his heel to face Sharon. Her own troubled breath got logged painfully in her throat as she waited for some sort of furious explosion on Dennis' part. Well, really she didn't know what she was expecting, but then she had no idea how a man psyched himself up to commit murder.

"I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"What?" she bristled, stunned. This definitely wasn't what she had expected. "Why? Where are you going? What was that about?"

Dennis dismissed her frenzied questioning with a calm shake of the head, even before she had finished speaking. Blanching his lip, he said; "Goodnight Sharon."

"No! No, this isn't right!"

Growling quietly in irritation, Dennis pushed past her and forced open the door to her room, standing against it to hold it that way and looking at her in a way that said he had no time to wait for her to pass through.

"This is Jack fuckin' Dalton we're talking about, course it ain't right! Now for fuck's sake, just do what I'm asking yeah?"

Scowling, Sharon stomped past and threw herself dramatically on the bed. Dennis, however, smiled apprehenseively.

"Thank you..."

Sharon sat there, her spine rigid with fear as she soundlessly counted the seconds away. The door clicked shut, Dennis' footsteps faded away along the landing... and Sharon stood up. She went across the dark room, groping blindly for the doorhandle, her sweaty palm pulling it down. She winced as the door creaked on its hinges, but with one daring peek found that with Denis' departure, the hallway was deserted. Her heart beating dangerously fast against her ribs as she went the way Dennis had gone.

But all the doors were closed and she didn't dare open a single one. Instead she crept down the staircase, her steps feather-light in her bare feet. She turned the corner to continue down the flight and found that the fire door was swinging noisily on its hinges in the night breeze. Sharon stepped towards it, suddenly desperately aware she hadn't felt true air upon her skin in days. Nothing else seemed to matter much in comparison. Cautiously, she pushed against the bar and stepped out, the cool stone of the outer staircase soothing her burning soles. 

There was nothing much to be seen around. Expanses of potholed tarmac held pools of the moonlight. Vines seemed to tumbling off the side of the crumbling building. Sharon wondered if it looked this bad from the outside, in the hope that everyone in the real world would pass it by, considering it disused and unimportant - and indeed not done up in grandeur on the inside to accommodate hostages!

But Sharon didn't care. To her, it was beautiful, and had it not been for the high security fences around the perimeter, making this place feel even more like a prison, she might really have believed she was free. And to some extent, she was. For the moment anyway and to Hell with the consequences. She considered this whole situation only held one consequence for her anyway.

So she settled herself on the top stair and tilted her head up, allowing the gentle breeze to kiss her face as it danced along. And at long last, she found some company - the millions of stars twinkling in the sky. There were still so beautiful and nothing about her surroundings could change that. Unlike Dennis, Sharon wasn't ready to give up hope.

1:15 am

Dennis sighed heavily as he walked across the wrecked tarmac. This was the last bloody thing he needed. He tilted his head to the side, massaging roughly at the stiff muscles of his neck. His hand dropped away into his pocket and withdrew a heavy pair of leather gloves. His knuckles seemed to throb in protest as he was left with no choice but to pull them on. He'd been a bit of an idiot really, thinking that his only charge for the next few days, weeks, whatever, would be Sharon alone. It was a shame, cos he was just starting to get into it, their hourly spats and all that. There were so many sides to her. He didn't think he could force himself to get on with a single one, but it was good to be unpredictable. Dennis knew that well. There was little other reason he had survived so long.

But at the same time, he hated how damn right she was. Naive, sheltered Sharon was right. Just another of Jack's thugs. A cold brutal nothing.

Dennis tried to shake the words away as he slowed up, sheer emptiness surrounding him as he waited. But he somehow couldn't. One of the first things he'd learnt in this life was to trust no-one and nothing. And yet he still knew she was right. He didn't want to be nothing, but he knew it was far too late to hope to be something. This was all he was now. He lived in a spiral turned by respect. And unless he wanted to slide down into oblivion, he had to earn the respect he was due. And he'd learnt one failsafe way of getting it. And the rule wasn't so much "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!" as "If it ain't broke, then fuckin' break it."

He didn't turn around as a pained groan filled the air. He closed his eyes and pretend he hadn't heard it, but the adrenaline pumping a little faster through his system now betrayed him.

The voice shook with fear, speaking with a heavy French lilt. "I'm sorry! Please! Non... non..."

He was promptly silenced by the two burly men that only managed to keep their victim on his own two feet by kicking him repeatedly in the shins to force him to place one foot in front of the other.

"Fabian." Dennis whispered tiredly to himself, almost wincing in sympathy. "Oh, you idiot."

He hit the ground hard as he was thrown down, left to roll around on the tarmac in front of Dennis, screaming in agony.

Dennis took a deep breath and let his mind close off completely. There was no way he could do this consciously. There were some out there that deserved their punishments when they were delivered and there were some that Dennis pitied for ever having met Jack Dalton. Fabian was one of the latter.

He'd bolted from France when he was barely fifteen, certain that his drunken father would kill him when their next brawl came. His mother, a woman everyone around knew he idolised was presumed dead, so vicious were her share in the beatings. Fabian's father had said she'd run off with a city banker but Fabian had protested this til he was spitting blood. Literally, Dennis had seen it the first time the man had fallen foul of Jack's many intricate, ever changing rules.

The worst thing to have in this life was a weakness. Fabian's was his mother. Dennis envied that somehow, but knew to keep it down. Because Jack, oh he used it, towering above the man, sprawled on the floor precisely as he was right now in fact and goading him even as he was beaten from all sides, calling his mother everything imaginable. Dennis had always wondered how Jack had managed to forge such steadfast and savage opinions of people he had never met. 

And to begin with, Fabian had screamed angrily back at Jack, needing to defend his mother. After all, everyone also knew that the last Fabian had seen of his mother, her body was shielding his as she screamed at his raging father that to get to their son, he'd have to kill her first. After that, Fabian had been forced from the room and left to bury his head under a pillow and try and block out his mother's screams. Jack didn't appreciate the will the man still had inside of him, and his anger was beaten savagely out of him. Dennis hadn't been a part of that first attack. He'd been stood rigid against the wall, unable to do little more than blink in horror. Fabian had been left a mass of broken bones on the warehouse floor, his ribs never likely to heal and his mouth filled with blood and smashed teeth. And no-one seemed to give a damn. Therefore, Dennis couldn't either.

"Get up." he hissed. 

Fabian was promptly dragged up. Dennis bit into his lip to hold back a wince. He was trying to help the man, really. Surely it was better to die standing. Living on his knees had never gotten this man anywhere. Anger had kept him alive day to day - in fact a rather bloody brawl in the Imperial Rooms when Fabian was a little off sixteen had been what had gotten him noticed by Jack in the first place. And once that happened, there was no escape. At least not until the day you died.

So Fabian... he was free tonight.

"Why don't you learn?" Dennis demanded, stepping close and tilting up Fabian's stubbly chin so savagely that the bones in his neck ground painfully together. "I've tried to help you, Fabian, remember?"

He whimpered.

"Remember?"

"Oui! Oui! Je suis désolé!"

Dennis laughed scornfully. "Well, that's never meant nothing has it mate, eh? If you were sorry, you wouldn't have repaid me like this! I stuck my neck out for you, cos I thought you were better! I thought you had the brains not be dragged back! What was it, eh? What?"

He counted in ten seconds that were filled only by Fabian's whimpering. Without focussing on his face, Dennis swang his fist forward into his stomach. The man slumped to the floor. Dennis flexed his hand, wishing his knuckles would throb a little less. 

"You should know not to keep me waiting..."

His gaze flickered to the two that roughly kept Fabian on his feet.

"Slimeball got caught with 50K's worth of H in his flat Boss."

Dennis winced audibly. "Fifty eh, Fab? Oooh, that's gonna hurt."

His two colleagues sneered cruelly and dutifully let their support drop away, leaving Fabian at the mercy of their boss' relentless fists.

"What'd you get for possession these days eh? Seven... ten years? The shame you're gonna bring on that precious family of yours... your poor wife-"

Dennis pretended he could not hear bone after bone shattering. He pretended he knew nothing of the pain as his attack continued. Fabian's face by now was not only tear-streaked, but dangerously bloody too, left to choke on the forming pool as it poured from his flattened nose and into his reluctant mouth.

"If you'd just learn-" Dennis roared angrily as Fabian screamed.

"Please! No more! No more! My... my wife!"

Dennis drew back his foot, his victim's body rigid as he awaited the next attack. It didn't come. Dennis crouched down and jerked up Fabian's head, holding it roughly in his hands and smearing blood all across the poor man's drenched face.

"She won't wait." Dennis hissed cruelly. "They never do. And why would she eh? Look at you, you're an embarrassment. I gave you chance to be something, Fabian, anything. And you're nothing. That's all you're ever gonna be y'know. Worthless scum..."

Dennis shoved Fabian away and he landed with a painful thud into his own blood. Dennis bit hesitantly into his lip, finding that one of his workmates had placed a heavy, commanding hand on his shoulder.

"He deserves this, Dennis, man. He let the Boss down."

"Yeah." Dennis answered jerkily, quietly repeating his own words, as if to assure himself that what he was doing was right. "Worthless scum."

"Exactly."

Anger roared dangerously in the centre of Dennis' chest. This was one kid he seriously had tried to help. He'd seem too young, too fragile to exist here. Nearly ten years later and the thread the bastard had been hanging from had finally snapped. And so had Dennis. Why did he bother? Why had he even bothered to try and help someone, anyone, when this was all he was reduced to in the end.

His lips set in a stiff sneer, he savagely kicked the broken hand in the chest, over and over, furious tears pouring from his eyes as he yelled;

"Just... like... the... rest... of... us!"

Fabian's screams of torment and sheer agony wore on. Dennis' colleagues had to pull him desperately back as his attack intensified.

"Get off me!" he roared as hands clamoured for him and he still needed his release. This was the only way he knew, the only way it could be. This was supposed to be what they wanted!

"Boss!" Trevor, the skinhead that was exerting way too much pressure on Dennis' right side bellowed in his ear.

"What?"

His gaze lifted anxiously. Dennis' neck ached again as his went too - and he found himself looking into the big, brimming eyes of Sharon Watts, flared in repulsion as she looked down from the fire escape on this ugly scene. His glistening lips were set stiff as tears shook her and she tried to hold back a sob, her quivering hand pressed to her mouth to silence herself before one of them might. She'd seen it. What they could truly do. Just to survive.

She flinched as Dennis' eyes settled on hers. She leapt back, her bare feet heavy against the concrete.

She shook all the more, one shattering sob escaping her as Dennis took one instinctive step forward. She backed up against the door and fled back into the building, choking loudly on her sobs.

The help stood at either side slid him an uneasy glance. Dennis' mouth went dry.

"Shit!" he cursed loudly, bolting forward up the staircase, finding now that the adrenaline shook him in the unkindest of ways, his blood pounding away in his ears. "Sharon!"

1:30 am

Dennis' chest was painfully tight by the time he reached Sharon's room. But he barely cared. All he wanted to know was that he had truly followed her to the right place. He'd heard her sobs, carried back to him on surrounding air that was barely there to be breathed, and he'd followed them. He didn't know what he was supposed to do exactly when he met them, but Jesus Christ, she'd seen too much!

He knew she could have fled to some part of the building that she didn't know, but considered she would be too terrified by what she had seen to dare, in case she found herself facing more danger. But oh, that was never supposed to be it. At least, Dennis didn't think so, not yet! Oh God, he didn't know anything, did he?

"Sharon?" he called out breathlessly as he crashed into the dark room. 

He cursed hotly under his breath as he turned blindly and kicked the base of the bed hard. Blinking furiously, he realised then that the room was deserted apart from the harsh strip of light pouring out from beneath the bathroom door. Dennis breathed a soundless sigh of relief.

"Sharon?"

"Stay away from me!" she yelled venemously, her voice so obviously shattered by the thousands of sobs tearing her own chest open.

Dennis frowned slightly as he found that words for once had failed him. "Look, I-" He sighed heavily, realising he was all out of excuses. "Sharon, please... I just... I need to talk to you, yeah?"

"Talk?" she shrieked dismissively. "Oh I know what that means Dennis, can't wait to lay your hands on me now eh?"

"No! I'm not... Sharon, open the fuckin' door."

"Fuck you!"

"Then I'll kick it in!" he warned her sharply.

He waited, eyes fixed firmly on the lock. It did not twist. Irritation flared inside Dennis, and he forced his weight through his shoulder and the door gave, Sharon crying louder and louder as all the fresh sobs threatened to choke her. It took Dennis a few seconds to realise that the scene in front of him was all his fault. Sharon's bare feet were pressed into the bottom of the deep bath, her knees hugged tight against her chest as she perched rigid on the edge, her back pressed against the wall. Tears poured down her flushed, crumpled face by the thousands, her lips twisted in such a way as they quivered that Dennis knew she had long since lost the battle to keep all these ugly sounding sobs in her throat.

Dennis took half a step forward and she almost screamed, backing further up against the wall than it was even possible for her to go.

"Are you... Are you going to do that to me too?"

"No!" Dennis snapped, repulsed. "Sharon, you... you weren't supposed to see that, anything like that!"

"Wh-What had he done? Why were you-?"

Desperate to not have to answer her, Dennis rounded on her in accusation, demanding; "What were you doing there, for fuck's sake? I asked you... I told you to stay here!"

"I thought it was me OK?" she screamed out, coughing dangerously on her next sob. "I thought tonight was me! But you... you left and- why'd you do that? Why?"

"Because I had to!"

"No you didn't! You bastard. You just don't care! I was watching Dennis, the whole bloody thing! You did all of that! How'd you feel eh? Give you some sick little high did it, breaking every bone in his body? Who was that guy? What had he ever done to you?"

Dennis bit into his lip and mumbled guiltily; "It's not about me anymore."

"Who are you?" she demanded through narrowed eyes. "Because I... I thought-"

"What?" Dennis spat dismissively. "What is there to think Sharon? I told ya, you don't know me!"

"I don't think you know yourself. I don't think you ever have! How do you sleep at night, Dennis huh? When you've got blood drying on your hands?"

Her fiery gaze dropped accusingly to the gloves covering his hand. Dennis' stomach lurched as he tore them off. Then he turned over his hands, smirking cruelly as Sharon's next breath got lodged painfully in her throat.

"You make me sick! You were going to kill him!"

"So what?" Dennis said stiffly. "You ever thought he might have deserved it?"

"He was begging you! For his wife."

"Yeah." Dennis answered in a scoff. "They've all got one when it suits."

"So you're saying he was lying?"

"Won't matter what I say will it, Sharon?"

She threw him a dark look, a shock of repulsion shaking her entire body. "Seems to me you do your talking with your fists."

"That's right darlin'. No feeling in 'ere, no nothing. I don't know what it means to break a man, rip his soul in half..."

"Shut up!" she screamed dangerously. "You won't make me believe it, Dennis, never! Cos I saw it out there... you're cold, emotionless. Y'know, you're the one that's nothing... you're the one that should be better than this and you're not!"

With an infuriated scream as she tangled her clawed hands in her hair, Sharon buried her face in her knees, sobbing like she might never again. Dennis watched her for a few moments, but his guilt, the tiniest hot prickings of it, died away as the ludicrousness of this scene overwhelmed him. Scoffing bitterly, he shoved the bathroom door so it shut hard; the impact making Sharon scream fearfully, her attention once again Dennis.

"I ain't cryin' about it." he informed her icily, a sneer twisting his lips. "Should be my call, dont'cha think? Or are you there sobbing for my wounded soul?"

"Don't you fuckin' dare mock me!" she hissed angrily back.

"Then stop makin' it so fuckin' easy, Sharon, you're embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? Well, I'm so fucking sorry I ain't up to your standard Dennis. Though... just looking at you, I reckon I could be. Hateful, violent, murdering scum! Cos you'll go back won't you? Once you've shut me up, you'll go back and you'll kill him! Bet you're well on the way to Employee of the Month aren't ya? You're pathetic." 

"And you're pushing it." he warned her darkly.

Sniffling to compose herself, Sharon lifted her chin defiantly and swung her legs over the side of the bath, sliding onto the floor, straightening her back stiffly.

"Oh, I don't wanna push Dennis. I wanna hurt you. I really wanna put my hands around your throat, like yours were around mine and I wanna make you see stars. Painful, glaring stars. I want you to feel pain like that poor bastard. But I can't do that, can I? Cos I'm just another woman. A weak-willed, irritating little woman. And you're gonna get rid of me. I don't know how and right now I don't care. I hate you too much."

"You can't hate what you don't know."

"But I wanted to! I wanted to believe I could trust you, just for a second."

"Why?" he demanded coldly, eyes narrowed as he looked back at her. "That ain't what I'm here for, you knew that!"

"Well, I know now don't I? You disgust me."

"And yet..." Dennis said quietly, grappling for control of both her wrists before they again got the idea of striking him. "...I'm all you've got right now."

Forcing her weight forward, Sharon pulled back, freeing herself painfully. "The sooner you kill me the better."

He gave her a ludicrous and started laughing, a cold, calm sound. "Y'know what? I really do like you. You're impressive." 

With a grin, he wrenched open the door and flicked on the light, pacing the well-lit bedroom. Sharon, shaking dangerously still, leant heavily against the doorframe as she watched him.

"So how d'you want this, Sharon, huh? Cos we like to give choices round here. Tell me, what d'you fancy, I'll do ya anything you want, that's my brief, see. Nice, clean gunshot wound? Head, neck? Knife even? Where'd you like it? Cos being stabbed in the back ain't metaphorical round here, I promise..."

Sharon somehow found that as she looked at him, she was smirking. She didn't quite know why because in truth, she was terrified. But still, there was that something about him.

"You're not just gonna kill me, Dennis."

"I love how sure you are, darlin'." His eyes glittered as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You should come back and watch Fabian's encore! Trust me, it's gonna be a killer."

"You're the fuckin' killer. How many's it been Dennis? Cos whatever number that poor bastard is, I'd hate to think that when mine's up, I meant to nothing to you."

"You Sharon? Oh... never. Not gonna forget the pretty little Princess now, am I?"

Sharon glanced down at the carpet, somehow finding strength in her weakened legs to pick her way across to him as she folded her arms defensively across her chest. "Glad to hear that." she answered softly. "Cos I'll never forget you. And neither will the police when you're through with that poor bastard down there. You'll be having just as many nightmares about me, Dennis, I promise."

"I don't believe this!" Dennis chuckled, highly amused. He really loved how this woman could pick up her own pieces and spring back up fighting. She definitely kept him on his toes. "You're threatening me?"

"Oh, I don't think we can call it that can we? I'm the victim here." Biting hard into her lip to keep back another shudder of repulsion, Sharon stepped up against his shoulder, her mouth dry and her breath dancing across his neck as she whispered in his ear; "Do what you have to, Dennis, go on. Just remember, I'll still be here, long after you've left me for dead out there. I'll break you, like Jack wishes he could break me. I'll destroy each little part of you, I'll send you crazy, just to justify every life you've ever tainted. Don't forget me, Dennis. Don't ever forget me. Cos I'm never going away."

He shoved her blindly away. "Who the Hell do you think you are?"

"Me? I'm the one with the pretty face. You're the one with the ugly heart."

He turned his head in disgust. "You think you're gonna start picking me apart with lines like that? Ah, Sharon, you disappoint me."

"Well, I would say I'll live but..." She shrugged lazily, scowling over at her captor. "Guess that ain't so likely now, eh?"

"You really are asking for this, aren't you, Sharon?"

"And what do you want eh? More tears? Me begging for my life? Get some sorta kick outta that too, do you?"

Dennis glared at her. She roughly wiped tears away from her eyes, forcing herself to throw back as venemous a look.

"Or do I not look scared enough anymore huh? Make you feel like less of a man?"

"Do you have any idea what's coming to you, you stupid little bitch?"

"In your expert hands, Dennis? Oh I think so!"

Casing her shoulders, he threw her back against the wall. She cried out as she felt where very large bruises would form, but still she stood straight, her balance only threatened as Dennis forced his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. She tried to force him off, but of course, he was too strong, one of his hands again around her jaw and forcing her head up against the wall, her brimming eyes looked on his.

"Do ya?" he spat. "Oh, you have no clue. Cos me and you, Sharon, we've been playing nice... and I'm getting bored of that now."

With the force of his hand, he twisted her neck so her head rested on the wall as she gasped for breath. She kept one anxious eye on Dennis the whole time, gulping down air as she fought for the strength to look him full in the face again. She refused to let him see her weakened.

"So what is there now?" she gasped. "Cos we both know what the end game is."

"That's right." he told her with a slow nod, that insincere smile all in his face that would humour her. "So until then darlin', it's up to you. Wanna play rough... or dirty?"

Sharon's heart pounded desperately. Only it wasn't fear that coarsed through her as she looked at him, those deep eyes flamed with something so indecipherable, something she needed to understand.

"Both."

Sunday 26th October 2003

10:00 am

Sharon had been awake since first light. In fact, she wasn't all that sure her eyes had closed at all. She was too... she didn't even know what the right word was. Shell shocked? Disgusted? Her gaze had been fixed on the clothes still strewn across the room, her naked body shivering of its own accord beneath the thick duvet as she took in each and very article. She wanted so much to jump up and pull them on again, to cover herself. But each of her limbs were too heavy to allow her to move, so she shivered still, otherwise a dead weight upon the mattress.

She wanted to believe it wasn't real. But she knew it was. How was the question that really flummoxed her. It had all just spiralled into this madness and... for God's sake, she didn't even like him. And it appeared he still didn't think all that much of her. Because Dennis, with one quick glance over his shoulder, so careless that he didn't even recognise she wasn't asleep, had gotten up and skulked soundlessly from the room. And even as she scooched further into the pillow, wishing with all her remaining might that she might sleep, or better still, that she might wake up from this very hideousness, resentment flooded her.

Not just for Dennis, the hateful, using arse, but for herself. Because she'd let this happen as much as that bastard had pushed for it. And why? Had she... gone mad? Because now, now she was everything Jack Dalton wanted her to be. Weak. Pathetic.

And Sharon refused to be that way. In one great rush of determination, she kicked back the duvet abnd rushed round, snatching up her clothes, repulsed even as she simply touched them, as if they were contaminated. She threw them behind the bathroom door and got into the shower. The spray was scalding and Sharon flinched, but bit hard into her lip to force herself back into it, needing to burn every trace of his filthy touch from her skin if that was the only way it could be.

Her skin was sizzling as she dressed. It was insane. She was a hostage, probably days away from her own slaughter and yet the first thing Jack had insisted she do was max out a credit card. "Making the lady comfortable" was how he put it, in that hideous hiss of his. Sharon, well aware she was probably committing fraud with every transaction given that she was not K S Jones, and that K S Jones was more probably at the bottom of a canal, or chopped up in a bin bag, she shopped spitefully. Oh, she intended to be comfortable. Covered in labels, not giving an ounce of her pride for these animals. Not ever. 

At least, not until now. Was that the new game plan now? Seducing the victim, instead of just killing them? Oh, Sharon thought bitterly, her reflection scowling back out at her from the surface of the mirror as she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail; that was so damn classy. And an easy way to get laid for free in the line of duty. God, she was such a whore!

She whirled round in accusation as the doorhandle creaked. Recognising Dennis, she smiled sarcastically. "No chance you might wanna avoid me today then?"

He barely even blinked, his hands stowed in his pockets. 

This made Sharon's scowl tighten, shaking her head in disgust  as she narrowed her eyes. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

A jerk in his neck brought his gaze away. He nibbled at his lip and went over to the dresser, setting down a tiny, round container.

Sharon frowned. "Whatever that is, I don't want it. Or are you supposed to force it down my throat?"

"It ain't like that." he said gruffly.

"And I don't care what it's like. Whatever that nasty little poison is, I won't take it!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's not gonna hurt ya. It's from the soddin' chemist." Sharon reeled in confusion. Dennis looked awkwardly away and mumbled; "Look... last night, whatever..."

But she cut him off abruptly, snatching up the little container and rattling the little container accusingly. "What is this?"

Dennis stared at the floor. "S'Morning After pill."

"My God, you think a lot of yourself..." Sharon said icily.

"Look, just take it and then we can just... forget it... just forget it!"

"I don't need to take it, you bastard!" she yelled, flinging the container at him in her rage. "This new to you is it Dennis? Having a name... a face to put your night's worth? Cos believe me, I've always worked that way, and you darlin'... you weren't all that."

"Yeah." Dennis chuckled, scratching at the nape of his neck as he looked up. "I mean, everyone knows your reputation, maybe I just couldn't wait to get in on it?"

"What reputation?"

Dennis arched an eyebrow, smirking. "Both Mitchells? I'd expect to be a disappointment after that sweetheart - I haven't got a brother, see."

"Haven't got much have you Dennis?" Sharon retorted smartly.

"Oh... you weren't complaining." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Mind, I've never really had much of that. Gotta be doing something right."

"Yeah... you keep telling yourself that."

Dennis just smirked. "I don't need to, darlin'." he assured her softly. "You were doing plenty of that for me."

"You make me feel sick."

"What, and nothing more than that? God, you're an awful liar. Jack'll enjoy that y'know. Did I mention he wants a word later?"

Sharon tilted her head. "He can have several. None of them look good for you though Dennis. I mean, there's touching... and then there's touching. Get what I mean? You must seriously have a death wish."

"Oh I get what you mean, Sharon." he told her calmly, nodding. "You're saying you used me. Smart. Except... you weren't."

"Oh, I so was."

"Yeah? So why aren't you taking the pill? Don't want any nasty little surprises come the end of the month do we?"

Sharon threw him a dark look. "Well, I'll tell you what Dennis, you give me the list, I'll get myself tested eh?"

"Take it." 

"I told you... I don't need to."

"Well, I'm telling you you need to."

"What's the matter Dennis? Can't handle your responsibilities? Cos that's what I am right now. Unless of course you've already impregnated half the Red Light District? God, I pity men like you."

"Weren't pitying me last night were you, darlin'?"

But she smiled sweetly as she shook her head. "Course not. How could I? One word and you're a dead man. Just like that French guy last night? The one you were going to kill in front of me? Had to hold your attention somehow. And I have to hand it to you... you look pretty sexy when you're angry. Really must mess with the latest intake Jack hauls in eh? All that new blood? So young... impressionable, confused? I bet they think the same." 

Dennis reeled back in disgust. "You're twisted!"

"Me?" Sharon shrieked, glaring at the little container on the carpet. "So are you if you think you can make me take that! One last time Dennis, loud and clear, darlin' - I don't need the Pill! Wouldn't matter if I was working my way through all the lowlife in this place just to stop you killing each other to fill the time... none of you sad, pathetic little men are gonna manage it, alright? I can't have kids. Fuck knows why that has to matter now anyway - or have you forgotten that your Boss wants to kill me?"

As Dennis listened, his smile became a little wider with every word until he looked up into Sharon's face, absorbing the etchings of fright in her face. "Kill ya? He wants to take you for dinner. Enjoy that won't ya? I'll be getting an early night... someplace."

Sunday 26th October 2003

10:00 pm

Someplace had a name Dennis had long since forgotten. In fact, he'd drunk so much vodka since he had slunk into the dark, smoky, loud bar, he wasn't sure he knew his own name anymore. Oh, he knew plenty of others. Only, with them, it was conviction first, name later. There was Dave Rushton; seven years for ABH, still tagged. George Reynolds, lost the best years of his life (and quite probably his mind) after stabbing his wife's most recent fling with the bread knife. Rumour had it that there had been bread crumbs in the hole carved into his stomach. Kai Undershaw, whose knuckles were a map of scars that told many stories of the times they had been so heavily used. The last person that suggested he return to his abandoned anger management classes had been fast-tracked to the local mortuary.

Dennis stayed silent. The kind of moody silence that earnt every man in a place as seedy as this instant respect because like a dormant predator, it warned that if you didn't fancy your chances in an attack, then you better fuck off. Unless of course, you happened to be a leggy, brash and ultimately easy blonde... like Lesley here. Or was that her mate? Dennis couldn't care to remember. There was only one thing he wanted right now and luckily, women that got sucked into this kind of a world were more than happy to give it.

He felt his heartbeat quicken dangerously as his eyes swept incredulously over her defiant face. Colour had flooded through her skin, but it didn't seem to affect her. She kept gasping in those shallow breaths that somehow made her whole chest heave as she refused to break his gaze. Oh God, her nerve drove him crazy. 

No other thought had time to enter his head. Some other power had taken control of his body and he knew of no way to stop it. He didn't want to. His lips crashed down to hers, demanding her taste even through that gasp of surprise that had the nerve to be be born as she kissed him feverishly back, hardly knowing why. 

His hand tangled in her hair, he pulled her closer and she instinctively arched her lithe body against his, needing to be closer even though she knew she could barely stand to be near him. It didn't matter now, her mouth harder on his as she clawed at the shirt on his back, the ridges of her nails sinking desperately into his shoulders.

Dennis blinked, inwardly furious to realise where his thoughts had wandered. So totally off limits, especially tonight, especially now. Cos right now, Sharon was at dinner with Jack Dalton, being treated like some trophy rather than the latest hostage, the latest pawn in a plan for revenge. If he knew how, Jack was treating Sharon like a human being right now. Was she hating it? Dennis felt the satisfied smirk perk up the corner of his lip just at the thought. But it died away into a scowl as the next thought occured to him. Was she loving it, just to spite him?

Lesley's over-glossy lips twitched hesitantly. Dennis realised she'd stopped talking and quickly refocussed his attention, leaning a little further in.

Curling the ends of her hair around her fingertip, she smiled flirtatiously and slid slowly forward on her stool so that her short skirt rode up her thigh. Dennis looked down instinctively. But he wasn't quite seeing what Lesley had hoped.

Pushing his weight slowly against her frame, Sharon buckled willingly back against the bed, bracing herself for the drop by keeping Dennis' body hard against hers. Her top fell to the floor like another layer of shed skin as she softly hit the bed, writhing beneath Dennis as she fumbled desperately with his belt, her attention not even focussed on her occupation as she tilted her head to the side, resting on the deep pillow, her moans unreserved as Dennis sucked gently at her neck, the shocks of pain as he bit fleetingly at the base sending her wild with need.

Dennis, he had only one. He wanted her. And what he wanted he had to have. He pulled himself away from her feverish body, kicking his jeans away to the floor as his hands swept teasingly over her burning thighs, easing them apart as soon as the pabs of his thumbs slid over the glistening wetness on the inside. And she was moaning still as he moved up, begging to be touched.

"Please.... just.... mmmm, like that... ohhhh..."

It really was the sweetest sounding moan. Sexy as anything. Made him just want to keep tasting her, touching her. And...

"So why don't we... slip off?"

Jolting back to reality, Dennis stood up obediently. He was not a man that needed asking twice. Besides, this woman, whatever her actual bloody name was, was bloody fit. Oh, he'd enjoy her just as much. And anyway, what sort of right did these bloody thoughts have to be in his head? She was nothing... that's all she was allowed to be.

"Please.... I want... I want... oh God..."

Oh, Dennis knew what he wanted. And he wasn't sure he could wait. Luckily, Lesley seemed to have understood him well and took his hand, her long nails scratching lightly against his palm as, giggling, she pulled him into the dark, damp alley that ran between the entrance of the club and the railway line. The rumble of the latest direct service to Paddington, always a good fifteen minutes late on principle could be heard in the distance and cats could be heard yowling a few feet away as they dived into the rubbish behind the club, sending dustbins lids to the ground with a defeaning clatter. But such distractions only served to annoy Dennis and he made a momentary decision to block it all out and just enjoy a perfectly normal experience.

Lesley tilted her head back against the grimy brick wall and grinned wickedly, drew Dennis towards her mouth. Her lips felt rough against his. He knew a softer mouth, he knew it instantly. And it tasted so damn sweet in the place of the bitterness of this one, a nasty tinge in the garish gloss.

Stop it Rickman!

"No... don't stop. Don't!"

"Now..." Lesley chuckled throatily, smugly wiping smudges of gloss from the corners of her lips. "...what can I do for you gorgeous, hmmm?"

But he did not hear her. Not really. He was waiting for a sugary, disbelieving giggle. He'd heard it hours ago as, breathless and satisfied, Sharon had leant back and fallen asleep. Dennis didn't want to contemplate what Lesley looked like as she slept. He was willing to bet she didn't even take off the inch thick mask of make-up, that all the colours sank into every well disguised crack in her skin. He knew he'd never stay around long enough to see that sight, never wish to. It wasn't his style.

His stomach was wrung with nausea as Lesley slid from view, somehow thinking he'd find the way she crouched so awkwardly in front of him wearing four inch heels in this cramped alleyway a turn-on. She was smirking audibly as she reached out to unzip his fly, and he found that his hands caught hers in mid-air and pushed her back.

She frowned in confusion.

"Don't think so." he said simply.

The lines deepened as she scowled. "Why not? You were well up for it back there. Or maybe that's your problem eh? You like an audience?"

Dennis offered her a sympathetic smile that only served to patronise her as she struggled to get up.

"Not with you, love. Not tonight. Headache, sorry."

"Oh, sod off!" she snapped angrily, wincing as she overbalanced on her heel and was reduced to limping out the alleyway with Dennis those few confident paces in front. "Advice for you though, ratbag? Women like a man who knows what he wants. Make your mind up before you start givin' out the pissin' signs yeah, or one day, you're gonna find things get ugly."

But Dennis went off without a backward glance, shuddering in relief as the cold night air swirled around him. He knew what he wanted alright. She just wasn't here right now.

Sunday 26th October 2003

10:00 pm

The restaurant was so dark that the flame flickering atop the candle seemed to mock Sharon, burning intrusively against her tired eyes. She had been sat opposite Jack across the little table, rigid. She didn't know if she dared move. She hated the whole idea of what this atmosphere was supposed to represent. She'd conjured it herself enough times, but oh, that was for lovers... and this.... this? She felt sick. She didn't know whether she dared let her hand relax against the table. Because she knew by the way Jack's small watery eyes; never mind the ever present back up over his shoulder, looking naturally menancing as he stood against the wall; never left her brimming glass, he was expecting her to drain it. And she didn't for a second believe the extortinate price tag had anything to do with it. She was more suspicious of what was inside it. 

So she left it and picked at her food, nervous of that too. But then it had been three days and as far as she knew, she hadn't been posioned yet. In fact, nothing that had her feel threatened or uneasy had happened to her directly. She in herself was as fine as she could be, given that she'd seen two innocent men be given savage beatings to give her nightmares and yet, somehow... somehow, she was sat here, terrified for her every gesture, wishing that maybe someone else could be sat opposite her. Not for any reason. She didn't want conversation, she didn't even want expensive wine and rich food. She just wanted to feel less sick. Of course, being aware of such a desire, the nausea intensified.

Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? This was Dennis for God's sake, Dennis! The one that had been pretty happy to half kill a bloke for a bit of light relief until he was made to realise she was watching. 

The one she'd tumbled into bed with half an hour later...

She flinched reproachfully as the thought began and forced herself to squint against the candlelight and at least appear focussed on what Jack was saying. It was hard, he always spoke so quietly. Firmly of course, but the theatrics in his speech delivery meant he never had to yell or any such thing to have his emotions understood. Not that Sharon was all that willing to believe he harboured emotions himself.

"What do you make of him, Sharon?"

"Sorry... who?"

"Who." Jack echoed, chuckling as he sipped at his drink. "Rickman of course!"

Sharon blinked. "Dennis? Well, um... what am I meant to think, Jack?"

Oh, Sharon knew what she thought alright. She knew what she knew. The words had come from Dennis' own mouth - he was somewhere, screwing some nameless, brainless bimbo most probably up against an alley wall cos he knew no other way to pass an evening. She wasn't sure who she pitied the most. Him, her... or herself? After all, what the Hell was she doing here? Being wined and dined by one of the most dangerous men in the East End. Surely it wasn't right? Jack wanted Den's attention, Sharon was bait! She understood how that worked but... otherwise?

Was that truly what this monster wanted? Was that what they all wanted? Even Dennis?

"Oh no..." Jack grinned, making Sharon's stomach squirm as he shook his head. "Hold your own Sharon, don't need my permission to wrack them brains of yours, do ya eh? Just tell me what you think!"

Sharon suddenly found her throat was dry and momentarily, she couldn't have cared whether there was arsenic floating around in her wine; she took up the glass and drank in a deep sip, relieved to feel it enter her system. "I think you already know what I think, Jack." she said sternly. "Or are we conveniently forgetting you had my father shot?"

Jack bowed his head, his smirk directed at the table cloth as he laced his podgy hands together. "Ah, but I think we both know you can't keep Den Watts down."

"No." Sharon smiled tightly, her eyes flashing with a warning. "You can't. You won't break him, Jack. Not unless you break me. Well, not you of course... or is there some other reason I've got Dennis hanging over my shoulder day and night?"

Jack's eyes widened, and all Sharon could read from that was that he was affronted. She wanted fear to grip her, but somehow, it just wouldn't.

"Dennis is the best." Jack told her curtly, fleckles of spit threatening to hit her square in the face.

"You mean he doesn't get caught." she muttered dryly by way of reply.

"He learnt well."

"Oh, so that's what you call what you do is it, Jack? Teaching? Teaching brutality, selfishness... murder? Have they all done that for you, eh? Picking off the insects..."

"Oh..." Jack chuckled, his chair creaking as he leant back, smugly surveying Sharon's features. "You don't care about them all sweetheart. I think you're starting to enjoy young Dennis' company."

Scoffing, Sharon looked away.

Sense had long since left her and now it was too late for it ever to return. She wanted this, without the logic to fend it off, deny it. She wanted him so damn badly. Her regard for him was unchanged, her need to feel his fiery touch upon her eager body was not. Reason was too late now, her breathless moans escaping her in dozens as he began to make a selfish kind of love to her. And she couldn't have cared. She just wanted to... to feel... oh God... to...

"Hmmm..." Jack frowned thoughtfully stroking his chin. "...not having the same effect on you eh? That'll upset the lad."

"Let it."

"I don't know... Rickman's always been a hit with the ladies. He must think you're made of stone."

"He's a pretty face Jack, nothing more than that."

"Sharp." Jack murmured, nodding his head approvingly as he raised his glass to Sharon. She felt bile rise in her throat but swallowed it down. "One thing I will say from Dennis Rickman though... he's always done what he's told."

"You don't sound too impressed by that." Sharon pointed out, unease writhing in her stomach.

Jack's hairy lip curved. "I get bored easily."

"Doesn't loyalty mean anything anymore? If he's done... everything you asked..."

"Oh he has. With a flourish. I'll be sad to lose him. But I won't bother with the retirement present. I doubt he'll need it." 

Sharon bit hard into her lip, repulsed by how blasé he sounded. Jack stopped speaking and peered at her before turning to the motionless hulk behind him and snapping his sausage fingers as if he was bringing a puppy to heel.

"Get the lady some water, Pierre. She's gone extremely pale, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm fine!" Sharon said anxiously, steeling herself to cover her nerves with the safety of lies. "Can't say I'll be too fussed... Dennis' early retirement? Assuming this is early. I mean, he's what... thirty?"

"Sharon..." Jack mused gleefully, his tiny eyes glittering. "...you make me sound so callous. Our friend Dennis is fine for now, I assure you. Unless of course, you'd rather I drafted someone else in?"

"Well, that's my problem isn't it? I don't know what he's there for. He just is. Not even one imaginative threat to come my way, Jack?"

"We'll have to wrack our brains." he drawled with a wink as Pierre reappeared, looking like he could shatter the glass of water in his hand just by holding it. He set it down in front of Sharon and dropped back on his heel, ready to slink back into the shadows when Jack snapped his fingers again, one eye still on Sharon, a most unattractive smirk in the corner of his lip as he barked, "Champagne."

Sharon tried to hold back a grimace. She didn't want a drink. Still, if Jack emptied the bottle, she was quite sure she'd have a fair few uses for that. Oh Jesus, this was what Hell must have felt like.

1:00am

The only thing to challenge the way Sharon's head pounded as she was returned to the hotel was the way her feet ached. Pierre had been given the task of walking Sharon to her very door. She deliberately walked a pace and a half in front of him, every corridor completely bathed in darkness. So it was difficult to keep her distance from him, forever wandering into one side of the wall and then stumbling into the other, cursing hotly.

She felt that alien hand reach out for her many times, but she always leapt away before his touch was secure, growling; "Just cos your boss fancies his chances... get the fuck off me." And she wandered off, muttering; "Fuckin' repulsive arseholes." 

Pierre's footsteps always quickened to match Sharon's, but she wrenched the doorhandle of her room down and crashed over the threshhold, standing against the door as she blocked the way for Pierre to follow her into the equally pitch black room.

"I'll be fine, thank you!" she snapped, slamming the door shut in his emotionless face. Tilting her head forward, she rested her weight against the door, groaning. This whole evening had been utterly hideous. Why couldn't someone do something that was... normal around here? Beat her? Kill her? She felt like with every snippet of information she had been forced to take in she was being tortured, and she couldn't even try and blot it out with alcohol, given that if she drank, Jack was probably watching thinking he was about to get lucky. Jesus, they really would have to kill her first.

Balancing awkwardly on one foot and then the other, she wrenched her heels from her feet and let them each drop to the floor with a thud. Then she collected up her hair and loosened the tie of her halterneck, let the front of the dress drop away from her breasts. She couldn't wait to shake the material away, hoping then she would feel a little less dirty. The dress had not been her choice. No, it had apparantly been Jack's insistence, so Sharon was well aware that in the silent moments tonight, he had been leering at her as she had been sent crazy with all these thoughts.

"Need any help with that?"

Sharon's hand flew to her mouth as she whirled around in the darkness, slamming hard up against the wall and grappling to pull the material up again to cover herself. She blinked furiously against the light the lamp threw out, illuminating the features of a face that had haunted her all night. And he didn't seem to look any worse for it.

Dennis was sat on the edge of the bed, an unlit cigarette sat between his fingertips, his lighter lying as yet unused on the duvet. Drinking in Sharon's surprise, his smirk stretched that little way higher.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Sharon seethed.

"I got bored." he said simply, tossing the cigarette away onto the bed as he got up, his attention very much focussed on the way Sharon was struggling to cover her breasts, she was shaking so furiously. "Thought I'd come see how your night was? How's Jack, did he move your earth? Or did he need a bit of help, cos you know what, that Pierre, he's like a school kid, really eager to please. Probably still thinks it'll get him somewhere. Poor bastard, it's embarrassing more than anything..."

"Shut up." Sharon demanded bluntly. "Just shut up. It was hideous and you knew it'd be like that!"

But Dennis was unmoved as he came towards her, smirking still. "I dunno... it ain't looking too bad at the moment!"

Scowling, Sharon turned towards the wall and began trying to re-tie her dress. Dennis stepped up behind her and she froze, wondering whether he was about to do a half human thing and tie it for her. Or maybe he was going to choke her. She realised now, anything was possible, but wasn't all that sure she cared as long as she never had to repeat a night such as this.

She felt his breath, warm on the back of her neck. Anticipation began to make her tingle without her permission. And yet, before that could truly irritate her, his lips were skimming her skin. She tried to stop herself falling backwards through shock and similarly, relief.

"One word." he murmured. "One... and I'll go."

"You can't." Sharon replied shakily.

"Oh I can, darlin'. I've never stayed where I'm not wanted."

Silently, he secured the tie around her neck, pulling her round by the hand to force her to level with his gaze. She stood hard against the wall, her heartbeat quickening dangerously, just like before.

"Well?" he pushed.

"I... I don't know what you're expecting me to do."

He smiled softly, humoured by such a response. "OK. Then I'll see you tomorrow. No problem."

But there was. Cos he moved away to the door - he really was going to leave. He wasn't forcing anything when Sharon knew she'd be powerless to stop him if he wanted to play it that way. He was going to just go - and she couldn't let him, lurching for his hand and levelling with his step. There was no doubt what was coming next. Oh, she welcomed it. His mouth was immediately fierce upon hers and she had never quite tasted a kiss like this, so demanding starved. He sent her half mad in every way she knew. And yet, now, this was all that made sense. And Sharon wanted so much to just be swept up in the madness of this frantic connection, but fear beat erratically inside her and she needed it to be soothed, even as she tore again at Dennis' clothes. This wasn't a fear he had created. But it was his, because...

"Dennis...." she gasped, breaking desperately away from the insistence of that sweet mouth. "He's going to kill you."

"I know." was her only breathless reply, his kisses forced back upon her lips as his hands went wildly across her exposed, beautiful body.

"No!" she whimpered, fighting to regain some of the strength stolen in each touch. "He told me... tonight! Soon, he's going to... to..."

Dennis twisted his hip in against Sharon's, which caused her to lose her balance and rely on him to lower her down on the bed. For the moments their bodies were apart, Sharon was feverish, consoled only as he covered her, hands caressing as his lips teased her body, making her desperate for his touch all over again. And yet, as the pleasure built, that fright kept her eyes wide, not quite believing Dennis had heard, or less understood her words.

But he had.

"I know."

Monday 27th October 2003

2:00 am

Even before the bliss had left her body, Sharon was cold. She was shivering, even as the heavy duvet covered her naked body. Blanching his lip, Dennis recognised the rigidness of her body against his for everything he was meant to. Sighing soundlessly, he pulled himself up, tiredly getting dressed again, the material of every item of clothing suddenly feeling soiled against his skin.

His back to her as he became lost in this occupation, Dennis did not see how uneasily Sharon wriggled beneath the covers, drawn up to her chin as she scooched childishly into the pillow and murmured; "Why don't you care?"

This time, he didn't appear to have heard her. So she tried again.

"Dennis!"

"What?" he questioned airily, working his belt back through the loops.

Sharon scowled. "Didn't you listen to me? Jack's going to... and you just don't... care! I... don't understand."

"You're not supposed to, are ya?"

"He's going to kill you!" she repeated desperately, trying to ignore how sick she felt as she was forced to say the words. 

But Dennis dismissed her frightful look. "Yeah, and I've always known he would, so where's your news?"

Sharon shook her head in disbelief. "What, so now it's OK to just-? Jesus Christ, what kind of person are you?"

Belt fastened, Dennis rounded on Sharon, a disapproving frown slanting his lips. Sharon blinked, unnerved by his expression, even as it gave way to that more recognisable smirk in the corner of his mouth. He sank down on the edge of the bed and Sharon reluctantly pulled herself up into a sitting position. The smirk softened into a smile.

"You're not so different really, are you Sharon? Act first... ask the awkward questions later." He reached and stroked strands of her hair away from her face, smile flickering knowingly as she tried and failed to move away. "Mmmm, you should be able that question now, don't you reckon?"

Sharon flinched, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Oh God... that's all this is, isn't it?"

"All what?"

"You're the one using me."

Rolling his eyes, Dennis got up, muttering; "Oh... fuckin' hell."

"What is it, Dennis?" Sharon demanded bluntly, drawing her knees up to her chest. "This what he told you to do? Make me a sweeter victim?"

"How self-absorbed can you get?" Dennis snapped back. "No, Sharon, alright? No! And if he knew... he'd kill me twice over!"

"Then I don't... why is this even...?"

Dennis threw her a withering look. "God... women have always done my head in with that! There isn't a "why"! Stop thinking it answers everything, cos it don't! There's isn't one!"

"But there is isn't there?" she replied curtly. "I mean, if you're a dead man, if you know it's coming... then what have you got to lose? I'm already here, aren't I?"

He scowled at her. "Nice to know you think so much of me, Sharon."

"I can't think anything of you!" she argued in frustration. "I don't even know you."

Dennis smiled, amused by the truth in her words. "Course you don't. I wouldn't want you to."

Sharon felt her lips fall, sympathy once again kicking her on the inside. "But this... it's OK? Me? What Jack's going to do to you?"

"Well... I'm not exactly looking forward to it. I might know it's coming, but it's not like I've ever known how. Don't suppose he told ya?"

She shook her head sadly. "He just said he got bored easily..."

Dennis laughed bitterly, wringing his hands. "Yeah, that sounds about right. He's had me skulking round doing God knows what on his say so since I was sixteen. Poor Jack must be bored stiff."

Sharon jolted frightfully, her mouth running dry. "You... You can't just stand round waiting for it!"

He shrugged lazily. "What choice have I got?"

"Get out of here!"

Laughing faintly, Dennis shook his head at her naiveity. "And then what? I told ya, there's nothing. Jack made me..."

"That doesn't give him the right to break you too!"

He kept looking at her, trying to ignore the way it almost sounded as if she cared. Of course she didn't. Because she was right. He was a user.

"I can't make you understand Sharon. Give it up."

She stared bitterly at her knees, self consciously pulling the duvet even further up as she mumbled; "I thought I already had..."

Dennis looked down, biting guiltily into his lip. "Yeah well... we don't need to go there again."

"So... why?"

"Why's it gotta be me with all the answers?" he returned softly.

Sharon smiled in spite of herself as she hunched her bare shoulders. "Cos... right now... I don't know anything. I don't know what's gonna happen and I hate it. You were right y'know. You're all I've got right now. And I don't trust you Dennis. Sometimes, I don't even like you. But... the idea you're just gonna let him destroy you... makes me sick."

"Well, that's cos you're there... trying to make me into something I'm not. You don't have to trust me... bloody Hell, I wouldn't. And you shouldn't, because nothing tells you I'm any different to any of them. I could be lying, just to use you. And you can't let the fact I'm telling you I'm not make any difference, OK?"

Sharon's mind reeled. What was she supposed to think when they'd just...?

"But..."

"No." Dennis said firmly, needing to dispel her uncertainities should she act on them. He sighed gently and sank back down onto the edge of the bed, awkwardly trying to make himself look her in the eye. "I wish I knew what it was about you..."

"H-How d'you mean?"

"I don't know. That's the point. You piss me off to distraction without even trying and I... yeah... well, we all know what I did about it. And then... the next minute-" His gaze swept pointedly across Sharon as she sat there, covered only by the duvet. She giggled faintly.

"I did wonder..."

"Don't. Just forget it. Please."

Sharon nodded slowly, but it was not in agreement. She was instead absorbing his words, trying to comprehend the anxious glittering of his eyes as his gaze implored her.

"Why?"

Dennis looked at her, slightly aghast. "Because I'm already a dead man. You've still got a chance and you have to take it, understand? I just ain't worth remembering."

Tuesday 28th October 2003

7:00 am

Sharon had wanted so much to argue with him. But how could she? They both knew she knew nothing of him. And yet she knew the time she had spent with him could have been so frightfully different. But she felt as though he was halfway to respecting her and in the facing of all this nauseating uncertainty, that meant a lot. Attraction, if that was indeed what it was, couldn't possibly be all that was between them now. He had been ready to leave, not prepared to enforce anything Sharon herself didn't want. And maybe it had primarily been their proximity that had meant Sharon found herself succumbing to him. But now... now she wanted so much more. She wanted to know he'd be safe, that he might come to her again.

But she knew nothing. And she hated it. With those last few words, he had left her alone, still naked in her bed. And all at once she felt cold and lonely. Not used, whether or not that was what she had been. Of course Dennis might be using her! But at least he'd had the guts to make her face up to the possibility. Only, it didn't matter anymore. Because whether or not she trusted him, liked him... he didn't deserve to die. She spent hours shivering beneath the covers as Dennis' warmth died slowly away from the sheets. Just the thought that he... oh God!

She wasn't all that naive - she'd seen what he'd been willing to do to that French guy hadn't she? She knew how much worse it would have been. She knew he would have undoubtedly done many things to make her blood run cold. And yet it was not one of these things that were going to cost him his life. Someday soon, the man was going to die simply because. There was no reason.

She'd listened intently to the stillness of the blackened room for most of the night. She did not hear the shuffling of footsteps outside her door like seemed usual to her now. Dennis was not there. Nor was anybody. She could have just got up, pulled on her clothes and ran, maybe not to come into contact with anyone that might have stopped her. But fear kept her pinned, sobbing quietly into the bed.

And now, she did not feel any better for the hours she had slept. Terrors had plagued her - filled with pained screaming, cold eyes and blood... so much of it. She'd been trapped in the eerie, black surroundings, her heart pounding as she searched for someone... anyone. Who could be so tortured as to cry out as if their soul was torn? Was it Jamie? Had he yelled like that as he was beaten so savagely by so many with the resolve to kill him? Was it Fabian... still screaming out for his wife, for mercy, just to return to her? Or... was it Dennis? Because the threat to his life was now true, it was coming. And Sharon, she was powerless to stop it, even as she frantically called his name. No-one answered her. Only the screaming as if it was never going to stop...

She'd woken in a rather drenched jolt just before six. She'd lain there, rigid apart from the way she shook, absolutely terified. She tried to train her breathing, to take in the normality of her surroundings. She tried to tell herself that everything... everyone was fine. Dennis was not broken. No. He was somewhere close. He was fine.

Her shaking subsiding only a little as she pulled herself up, shivering as the morning air licked menacingly at her bare skin. She was barely warmed by the scalding spray of the shower as she climbed into the cubicle. She dried off and dressed quickly, hiding herself away in a roll-neck jumper and long trousers. She took her time with her hair and make-up, reapplying the latter a good few times as she fought to steady her hand.

She had just replaced her mascara brush and was carefully brushing through her hair, that was practically dry she had taken so long to compose herself, when someone crashed through the door. She whirled round, hope swelling in her chest and then bursting like a bubble as she recognised Pierre. She scowled instinctively, but as ever, his expression was unchanged.

"Boss wants to see you." he said gruffly.

Sharon's stomach lurched. "Wh-Why?"

"You don't ask questions like that."

Taking a deep breath, Sharon hurriedly twisted her hair and pinned it up, swallowing to lubricate her dry mouth as she stood up. She slipped past Pierre and stood nervously in the hallway, biting down into her lip to control her shivering. She didn't want him, or anyone to see her weakened in any sort of way.

He closed the bedroom door and cleared his throat, moving off down the hallway without so much as a glance at Sharon. She was grateful, but it didn't make it any easier to follow him. Flight after flight of stairs, she felt sick. She could feel her knees trembling, but kept her pace at steady strides, her palms sweating as she gripped each length of banister.

The foyer was dim, but expansive. Without a word, more of a grunt, Pierre ushered her across to what would have been the reception office. But she knew she wasn't about to come face to face with a bubbly, talkative receptionist. No. Because as she looked anxiously to her left, into a small corner hidden well by the position of the walls, she found herself looking at Dennis, who flinched the moment their eyes met.

She tried to smile, but... he wasn't looking at her. His fiery eyes had found Pierre.

"What's going on?"

"What's it gotta do with you?" Pierre demanded dryly.

"Don't piss me about. What's she doing down here? What's he want?"

"A word." he was informed dangerously.

"You can drop the attitude - and you can fuck off. Anything that goes between 'im and 'er is my business, not yours."

Pierre smirked. The idea that he had any control over his facial muscles after so long surprised Sharon more than anything. "Already briefed you though hasn't he? You ain't... needed."

Sharon saw Dennis' eyes flare and wanted to say something, to stop... everything. And she couldn't. All she could do was walk through the door. Alone, unprotected - with only Jack Dalton for company.

"What happened to knocking?" he barked.

"Sorry Jack." Sharon whispered as she closed the door. He looked up at the sound of her voice and straightened up, that repulsive smile curving his lip, his small watery eyes darting hungrily over Sharon's form. Her stomach twisted.

"Sharon..."

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she held her head steady, even finding the courage to force herself to smile. "What can I do for you, Jack?"

"Take a seat."

She wanted to refuse, just to irritate him, but she daren't. She could feel the fear tightening her chest, even as she sank down in the chair opposite the vast, littered desk.

"My boys keeping you entertained then Sharon?"

A chill rocketed down her spine as she looked at him. Did he... know?

"...he'd kill me twice over!"

 "S-Sorry?" she blustered.

"That's what I thought." The folds in Jack's flabby neck creased further as he nodded. "I'm thinking you should get out for a while. A drive maybe?"

"Well, that's... generous Jack, but... why? I thought the idea of being a missing person was that I'm not seen."

"Oh, you won't be." he assured her brightly, as if they were discussing options in a hairdressers. "No. Dennis knows to make sure of that."

Sharon shivered. The idea of any amount of time alone with Dennis should have placated her a little. But... a drive? Oh, she knew what that meant in this existence. It meant the end. But who for?

"Yeah? So what else is he supposed to make sure of?"

"Now, now!" Jack mused with a sharp intake of breath. "We shan't touch a hair on your head... you have my word."

"Then you'll have to forgive me." Sharon replied tartly.

"I'm sure of it. You see Sharon, I haven't heard a word from that good-for-nothing father of yours! Anyone would think he didn't care."

"He's looking for me, Jack." she assured him. His smile widened as he nodded again.

"Wouldn't expect anything less. Not of Den. Problem is... I think we need to point Daddy in the right direction. So... off you go."

"What are you going to do?" Sharon scoffed. "Wave me in front of him like bait and expect him to come to you and get himself killed twice over?"

Jack heaved himself from the chair and moved around the desk, his podgy hand falling heavily on Sharon's arm, making her flinch in disgust that she tried fruitlessly to control as his fingertips stroked across the material of her top. She was only thankful that he could not reach her skin.

"I wouldn't dream of it." he whispered thickly. But Sharon could almost taste the threat on his foul breath. 

He stepped back and opened the door, tilting his head and indicating it was time for Sharon to get going. She did so gladly, grateful to get back into the foyer, which, however dank, suddenly appeared light in comparison to the office.

"Here she is then, Dennis!" Jack boomed happily. "All yours..."

Dennis glanced at Sharon distractedly as he straightened up away from the wall. "Right. Well..."

Sharon turned smartly on her heel and began to walk off without his direction. She barely cared where she was going. She just wanted to get out. She heard Dennis' footsteps behind her and little else beside a bunch of keys jangling in his hand so he was obviously unconcerned at her pace. It felt strange to just be able to walk out the door. It made uneasy butterflies dance in her stomach as true sunlight, however weak, poured down into her all-seeing eyes for the first time in days. She drank in every unremarkable detail in wonderment as her heel scraped the uneven pavement.

This moment had allowed Dennis to catch her up effortlessly, but he did not stop once he levelled with her. He kept going and that wrenched at her a little bit as she quickened her step to follow him. There was something really wrong in the way he was holding himself. Head down, shoulders hunched, like he didn't want to be seen. Sharon supposed that was normal when you were having to go about the business of a man like Jack Dalton but... no. It was almost as if he didn't want to be seen by Sharon herself either.

She rounded the corner and almost leapt out of her skin as she half collided with Dennis, half slumped back against the side of the brick building. But he didn't even flinch, his eyes dead and unregistering as he looked at her as quickly as he looked away again. 

Sharon bit anxiously into her lip and dared to breathe his name. "Dennis?"

He shuddered at the sound and Sharon watched his hand curl into a fist around the keys.

"Hey..." she murmured, rounding on him and pressing her hands gently around his face, before stretching up to brush his quivering lips. "...what's the matter?"

Sighing heavily, he pushed her back and raised the key fob to the dark BMW sat at the kerb. The sound of the unlocking made Sharon jump, but she forced herself to step into the road, her unsteady hand caressing the gleaming bonnet as she moved round the front of the car to the passenger door. She looked over the roof at Dennis and he inadvertently found himself looking back at her. But to her, it was still as if he did not see her. And right now, that scared her more than anything.

She sank heavily into the passenger seat, her hands shaking in her lap as she waited. For something... anything. But Dennis was motionless beside her. He'd put the key in the ignition, but he still held it tight in his fist. His whole body was rigid. He couldn't twist the key and suddenly, his eyes were all that were alive, with so much Sharon didn't even dare try and understand. It took her several lonely seconds to realise that Dennis' lips were quivering. 

He was speaking. Feverishly, in a whisper she could barely allow herself to hear.

"I swear... I don't want to do this..."

Tuesday 28th October 2003

9:00 am

"Do... what?" Sharon pushed anxiously as her mouth ran dry. "Dennis?"

But he made no effort to even register her presence beside him, steeling himself to turn the key in the ignition. His hands weren't all that steady as they curled around the steering wheel, but somehow, the mechanics of how to drive were still known to Dennis, Sharon's stomach lurched fearfully. He knew... oh God, he knew she hated not knowing - but was to know somehow worse?

Was Dennis truly about to become her killer?

She began to tremor as she settled back. She tried to take in the surroundings that slipped past her as they drove, wishing desperately she could just place herself somewhere. But she was as lost as ever, left with only Dennis to trust. And now, she felt as though she trusted him less than not at all. And she didn't want it to be that way. But now... now she was scared.

Sharon looked over at Dennis so many times, but he'd never meet her eye. He looked as terrified as she felt. Sympathy would have kicked at her again if only she knew what was coming. Dennis was the only one that knew, and he was pointedly silent. Inwardly, he was going crazy. Still, he wanted to know what it was about Sharon that had weakened him so much as to break the golden rule after so long. Any free woman out there could have been his, however fleetingly. Why had he been so unable to stop himself going back to Sharon?

He supposed it was her strength of character. Threat had been all around her from the moment she had been taken from her club and yet she was still brave enough to... snipe, hold her head high. He respected her. He'd never felt anything like that for a woman before. They were there to be so willingly used and enjoyed. And perhaps, he'd already done both. But as a result, the idea that he'd have to be the one to destroy her...

God, he felt so sick. And he couldn't miss the way Sharon was curled up on the passenger seat, shaking. He had her scared on Jack's word. And he hated it. So damn much.

There was a satisfied wrench in his gut as he, with his last surge of rebelling strength, turned off their course and travelled another half an hour in such heavy silence. Sharon's eyes were dull and unregistering, full of unshed tears. She did not bother to lift her head and take in her surroundings until she realised they were known to her.

Jolting as she straightened up, she craned her neck jerkily to take in the staggering normality of George Street.

"What... What are we... here? Dennis... what's...?"

Still he could not make himself turn his head to look at her. He kept staring straight ahead, his hands gripped so tight around the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. He blanched at his lip, forcing himself to think of nothing besides how much he would despise himself if he hurt her.

"Get out, Sharon. Go home."

Staggered, Sharon could do little but blink at him as she cautiously unplugged her seatbelt with shaking hands.

"This... isn't what Jack wants, is it?"

Though he still did not look her in the face, she saw him flinch.

"Dennis!"

"It's what I want." he cried out desperately, his anxiously shimmering eyes locking on hers. "Go!"

Reading his fright, she realised that whatever it was Jack did want, it was more than Dennis could stand. "What are you supposed to do?"

"That don't matter." he answered distractedly. "You'll be with your family, you'll be safe, you'll-"

"You'll be dead!" Sharon threw back instantly, chest constricting painfully at the realisation.

Dennis cast his eyes down. "So what?"

"What d'you mean "so what?" When Jack realises... he'll tear you into pieces."

"He's gonna do that anyway!" he argued hotly. "Don't make me do it to you too."

"Dennis..." Sharon whispered frightfully, scooting across her seat, her back straightened against the dashboard as she pressed her hand forcefully over his around the steering wheel. "...look at me, please."

Biting so desperately hard into his lip that Sharon realised it was stained with blood, Dennis looked at her, shaking so furiously in repulsion that he could barely hold his head steady.

"What does Jack want?"

His lips quivered, the words he needed to speak faltering so many times. "Send... a little warning back to your dad."

Sharon nodded slowly, swallowing down her fear. Enough of such an emotion was present in Dennis' own face. "How?"

His tortured eyes narrowed and he shook his head furiously, rebuffing her words. "I won't do it."

"How Dennis?"

"How d'you think?" he questioned weakly.

"Are you supposed... to kill me?"

In the moments of silence that followed, Dennis' desperate shaking transformed into violent convulsing. "I'm supposed... to stop short."

Clawing back her own anxious lips, Sharon sank uncomfortably back onto her knees. Her heart was beating so erratically against her ribs as she tried to comprehend it all that she was hardly sure she was breathing anymore.

This was a man that was supposed to be cold on the inside, to think nothing of any instruction he was given. And Sharon was just a woman. A lesser being in these circles. She'd rubbed Dennis up the wrong way from the moment they had met, still they barely liked each other and yet so much that was unexplainable had passed between them. Sharon knew what he was capable of and yet... he'd taken care of her. He'd treated her so well, even in their most vicious of moments together. And now he was a condemned man. And somehow he was less cold. There was real emotion to be seen coming from him. Fear... remorse, everything she never expected to see in the face of any of Dalton's men.

Maybe that was just it. Dennis was not Dalton's man. Once, yes, of course, but now? He was going against the man who held his life in his hands - to save Sharon.

And she wanted so much to get up, to get out and run back to her family. But Dennis was so very wrong on one count. She was not going to be safe there. If he wasn't supposed to kill her, then she was meant to go back with him, barely alive, all for Jack's viewing. And then, at some time, Dennis would be murdered just as senselessly anyway, dying a man so full of self-loathing. 

And yet, if she went now, if she ran and Dennis went back alone, she knew he would pay violently with his life for failing the simplest and worn of instructions. And she simply couldn't live with the guilt of taking his life. Especially not when she knew there was nothing to stop Jack coming for them all. And in that case, she doubted very much that Dennis would be the only one to pay. Because, and oh, Sharon's blood ran cold, there would be Den, there would be Vicki.

So bravely, Sharon turned back to Dennis and said; "You have to do it."

His stormy features twisted in disgust. "No! I want you to go.... now!"

"But I can't! And you know that!"

"Do I?"

"Dennis... you don't do this, you know he'll kill you."

"Let him." he replied darkly. "Cos I couldn't live with myself."

"You think I could live with myself, knowing what happened to you because of me?"

Dennis shrugged. "Why not? I don't mean nothing."

"Yes you do!"

"Why?" he demanded viciously, snapping his head round to look at her. "You don't know what you're talking about Sharon, you never will. So just go."

Sharon turned away, reaching over to the doorhandle, her palm sweaty as it closed around it. Through the glass, she looked longingly around the quiet street. She was home. But it was little comfort, knowing what she would cause if she went now.

"I'm going with you, Dennis." she said simply, pulling her hand back.

"No you're not." he retorted angrily. "It ain't an option."

Sharon sighed heavily and twisted so she sank properly back against the passenger seat. "Listen to me... if they're gonna come for you anyway, don't make it be my fault. Please. That's not fair."

"You don't have to care."

"But I do!" she insisted shakily, her voice heightened by a swell of emotion. "I do care, don't you know that? I have to go with you... and you have to do what Jack wants."

"No!" he insisted in frustration, slamming his fist against the steering. "I told ya... I can't. I won't." 

"I'm asking ya, Dennis. Please."

A sharp laugh of disbelief sputtered from his mouth as he turned to look at her. "But you don't know what you're asking Sharon. You don't. And I don't wanna be the one to open your eyes. I don't want you to see the truth, I don't want you to feel it. I just wanna know you'll be alright."

Sharon tilted her head thoughtfully. "You don't have to care either."

Dennis scowled. "You mean I'm not supposed to know how. Believe me darlin', I wish I didn't, but it's you, i'n't it? You've done somethin'. I dunno what and I wish you hadn't - but I ain't gonna touch you."

"You have to!" Sharon pushed. "If you don't... someone else will and they'll mean it. No-one else is trying to protect me like you are. I... I need to do the same for you. So I'm going with you... and you'll do what you need to, OK?" 

Dennis swallowed down a lump in his throat and shook his head fiercely. "I'd never forgive myself."

Sharon sighed gently and leant across, the pad of her thumb stroking just beneath Dennis' eye to quash the tears that had begun to fall.

"I'll forgive you, Dennis."

Tuesday 28th October 2003

10:00 am

Though her heart was pounding painfully in her chest, though her palms were drenched and she couldn't control the amount she shook, Sharon sat up proudly, alert as she took in the path they drove. Turning off a roundabout towards Hackney, Sharon smiled wryly as they flew past the direction posts. Dennis seemed to have his eyes half closed in disgust as he drove. But in all this madness, Sharon was somehow settled. She knew where they were going. Heading straight for the abandoned warehouse Jack had told her about. Where he'd had countless people dragged and slaughtered. But all she had to do was look over at Dennis and she knew, whatever he did to her, she was safer in his hands than in any others. It was going to be OK.

Dennis didn't appear to be of the same opinion as the pulled into a side road and the warehouse lurched omniously from the shadows. Sharon's own stomach twisted a little, but Dennis shook violently, hardly able to pull up the clutch as they swung to a stop on the gravel, sending up dusty clouds.

"Let me take you home." he pleaded in a whisper, his eyes not daring to seek out hers. "Please!"

Sharon shook her head gently. Dennis hung his in shame, watching her climb steadily from the car, shivering against the wind. She moved around the front of the car and pressed her hands flat against the bonnet as she leant back, waiting for Dennis to step up beside her. He did so slowly, biting guiltily into his lip. But a soft smile curved Sharon's.

"Just you and me, right?"

He nodded jerkily. "Yeah, I... I think so. Wasn't supposed to be that way but-"

Sharon tilted her head. "What d'you mean?"

Dennis lifted his head and threw over a piercing look. "You think I coulda left you to three of 'em?"

Sharon shuddered. "Three? Wow, you musta promised Jack a good job."

"Stop it!" he hissed angrily. "Stop being so fuckin' flippant!"

In that second, she realised how hurt he looked and was silenced, reduced to staring at the ground. Recognising out the corner of her eye that he was looking the other way, she straightened her back and walked towards the warehouse, her head high as the gravel crunched threateningly beneath her feet.

"Sharon!"

She only slowed as Dennis called her name and bolted towards her. He stood in front of her, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. Sharon recognised his unease and... shaking a little herself, she offered him her hand. He blinked, stunned, before looking up at her like she was mad, as if she didn't know what the two of them were here for.

Sharon didn't pull back however. She just laughed nervously. "C'mon Dennis, you're either with me here, or you're totally against me. And I know you're not."

No, he wasn't. So he reached and took her hand, the two of them shaking a little more fiercely as this connection was made. But they each hung on a little desperately as they walked on.

"So..." Sharon began, suck in a breath as they stood before the huge doors. "...I'm guessing you have the key or whatever?"

Dennis was more frowning as he uncurled his palm and set to work. Sharon was reluctant to drop his hand, but saw that he required both and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered against the cold - that seemed to be coming more from the warehouse than the air around her. But still, when there was room enough, she stepped bravely inside.

She was immediately dwarfed. The place was so empty it was terrifying. It was absolutely huge and there was literally nothing inside it besides the pillars that held it up, right from the cold concrete floor to the drafty rafters. Absolutely nothing. And people, more than she would ever believe, had been left to die in this.

Sharon spun round in a terror as the doors were wrenched back again, clanging deafingly together as they closed. Dennis smiled in an apology he knew he could barely mean given their circumstance, but Sharon didn't care. She didn't allow the sound of her amplified footsteps to frighten her as she went to him, shivering still. But it didn't matter. She could smile as she stretched up to kiss him in a way he just couldn't understand. As she dropped back onto her heels, Dennis caught her hand and dropped the keys into it.

"Go." he pleaded again in a shallow breath. "Please Sharon..."

"I can't. You know I can't."

His lip trembled. "I won't do this."

"Yes you will." she whispered tenderly, nestled into the crook of his neck and gently kissing a trail all the way up to the unwilling ear she whispered against. "Because I'm asking you to."

"You think that makes it better?" he demanded bitterly as he pushed her away. "I don't wanna hurt you..."

"But you have to. There's no choice. Dennis, I'll think so much more of you for this..."

"You don't think anything of me, Sharon, remember?"

"I didn't mean to say that."

"You were right to."

"Shhhh, that's not true." she insisted shakily.

"Why isn't it? I'm the one... beating the life out of innocents aren't I? Using you for what I can get?"

"I know that isn't true." Sharon said fiercely.

"Do ya?" Dennis challenged.

"Yes! You might be a user, Dennis, I can't deny that. And I should imagine it was pretty easy to pick up whoever you wanted. So why choose me when you know Jack'd kill you for it? That's not why any of this is happening. If it was, you wouldn't care. You'd just have used me like you have everyone else and you wouldn't have a problem with beating me already. And I know you do. But I... I need you to do this. I trust you."

He laughed coldly. "Yeah, cos that's totally what you have to say to the guy being paid to half kill ya. You're lying, Sharon. I remember, see. You don't trust me - and most of the time, you don't even like me."

Sharon scowled. "That isn't what I said."

Dennis shrugged. "It's true enough."

"No! It's not. I'll admit alright, I ain't exactly relishing this prospect, cos yeah, everything you've come from scares me a little. It cost me my dad for half my life. But where is he eh? Why are you here, having to do this? Because he ain't paying enough attention, cos he don't care! And you... you've been in my life days and you... you're the only person I'm sure of and that scares me even more, especially now I know what Jack wants with you, and I... I can't lose you yet. I'm too terrified."

"Right. So this is what you want from every bloke you trust? Bruises halfway across your body?"

"I told you... I wanna protect you too. And to be honest, I'd rather anything than be on my own right now. Just to tell me what you need me to do..."

"Do?" Dennis hissed. "To make me flip you mean? To make me wanna beat you senseless?"

"Exactly." Dennis glowered at her however and she was forced to bite into her lip and surmise, "I'll have to use my imagination then eh? Tell me... what was your mum's name again?"

11:30 am

Curled up on the passenger seat, her arms folded protectively around her tender stomach, Sharon bit desperately hard into her bloodied lip to fight back a whimper of pain. She'd sworn to him before he'd laid so much as a finger on her, that she would not cry as a result of any injury he inflicted. She had never seen so much self-loathing in one tortured face. She would not allow herself to take her eyes from it, should she realise where he intended to next place his fist. He'd been in very silent tears the whole way through. It was as if their roles were reversed as he so reluctantly hurt her. He was the one begging for it to stop, pleading with her in such shattered whispers after every single strike. And she was the one that refused him, sniping to urge him on.

He'd known she didn't mean a word of it, and it was torture trying to pretend that she did so that it might anger him enough. His life with Paula, his life with Jack, their own few days together, she tried everything she could think of, her frightened eyes somehow so very cold. But that was because neither could allow themselves to be reached on an emotional level. Dennis had always believed himself safe from such an approach and yet... this woman, one he knew next to nothing of, had him in pieces. He just wanted to stop and to pull her into his arms. He wanted to protect her, that's why he'd sworn blindly to Jack he could do this in the place of any number of men. Because to have Sharon alone, oh, he'd wanted so much to deliver her to safety. The thought that she had so stupidly refused was the one that made him angriest, but still... he'd never wanted to hurt her. 

Irritating she may have been, but she did not deserve what Jack was demanding. Dennis hardly cared that had he returned to Jack without evidence of Sharon's injuries that he himself would have been dragged here and destroyed. Slowly, painfully. Just to know that that one good presence in his miserable life was safe then... oh, just once, he would have done something.... honorable. Of course, the idea was laughable now. Because there she was; the woman that had welcomed such injuries with the sweetest of kisses and pleas, tears welling guiltily in her eyes and he knew. He was an animal. How could he have done so much to her without any true provocation?

He knew that somehow, there was a deep gash in her thigh that by the look of the darkened patch on her trousers, was still bleeding. Her lip was thick and bloodied, perhaps split. Her stomach was nothing more than a palette of bruises and her shoulders were marked by the imprint of his fingertips he had held her so roughly. He still was unsure whether he had indeed shaken her with the true frustration of the corner she had forced him into with her words. But guilt tore him open anyway. She couldn't help but rub at her neck as she curled up helplessly there, new colour having brought old injuries to life. She was hoping that with the curtain of her hair, he would not see the movement, but he did and it made him feel sickened at himself. There was a great red outline, about the size of a fist, strangely enough, that had swamped her right eye, an oozing cut above the left where his fingernails had caught her.

And he had taken all of this in before they had torn up the side street. They almost spiralled off the road as he slammed on the brakes, but Sharon was too engulfed in pain to care. Hardly daring to breathe as that ill-feeling tightened in his chest, Dennis kicked at the door and fought his way out into the open air, before he found that he was thrown helplessly forward, leaning heavily against the brick wall as he was violently sick.

Sick at himself.

He spluttered groggily as the upsurge of acid burnt at his throat, such sickness not done with him yet as he reeled again.

Sharon was bought to some kind of half life as she heard him retch and fought back the pain seering through her to push at the door (her shoulder twinged sharply in protest) and climb down from the seat (her trousers immediately felt damper as the tentaive knitting of the gash in her thigh promptly split and released the blood seeking to heal the wound).

"Dennis? Are you...?"

She reached out to place her blood stained hand (it had been covering her lip for a long while) comfortingly in the small of his back, but he reached out blindly to force her away as he coughed.

"You shouldn't... have moved."

"I want to know you're alright!"

Needing a good few moments to let the blood rush away from his head and totally comprehend the sincerity of what she was saying, Dennis drew in many ragged breaths before he could force himself to straighten up, biting guiltily into his lip.

"How can I be alright? Look at you... look at what I've done!"

"It's no different than everyone else." Sharon said softly. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does!" he snapped. "Because I did that! To you! I did all of that! How can you say you'll forgive that?"

"Because I do. We had no choice. And it..." Unfortunately, she was betrayed as she winced at a sharp pain coarsing like electricity through her side. "...doesn't hurt all that much."

"I should never..."

"Shhhh." Sharon advised shakily, pressing a fingertips briefly to his lips. "You need some water now."

He looked at her ludicrously and offered up his own suggestion. "I need a good kicki-"

"Stop it!" she said sharply.

When he was silenced, she took a deep, sobering breath.

"Will you be alright to drive?"

"Why?" he asked dryly. "Wanna give it a go, did you?"

With no words to answer him while he was so determined to despise himself, Sharon watched him turn back towards the car. She tried to follow himself, but found herself screaming out in uncontained agony as she took her first limping step. Dennis whirled round in a panic, completely stricken as he bolted forward to support her. She fell against him grateful as tears built in her eyes and she gasped; "I'm sorry... I know I said I wouldn't-"

"Shut up." he whispered guiltily. "I'm the one that should be sorry. And I am darlin', I... oh God, I-"

But Sharon shook her head desperately to dispel his words, whimpering through her pain as she went back and curled up on the passenger seat in the only way that was comfortable. She was snuggled down, twisted so many ways at once she wasn't all that sure she was still in one piece. But she was content to watch Dennis, just there as he drove. She was sure she could see his regret pulsing away in his throat, but it was thankfully never born into anything that would serve to torment her. They didn't say a word to each other the whole way. But that was OK too.

Dennis sighed heavily as he parked up behind the hotel and withdrew his mobile phone from his pocket to send for them. A few of the animals that would no doubt have killed Sharon today in his place. He wanted to go to her, carry her carefully back to her bed and hope she might sleep some of the agonies away. But he couldn't.

No greeting came as the call connected. So Dennis simply spoke. "She's here... mmm, out back."

"Job done?" Pierre demanded stiffly.

Guilt threatened to split Dennis' chest as he cast his eyes over Sharon's pained form, and replied bitterly; "You couldn't have done it better yourself."

Then he hung up, replacing his phone in his pocket and sitting back. It was then he realised that Sharon's eyes were still fixed upon him, as if enthralled.

He struggled for words to fill the unnerving silence. "Feeling... any better?"

Smiling dreamily, Sharon shook her head. "No. You?"

"No."

He flinched as Sharon's bloody hand crept into his lap, dropping through his own idle fingers and squeezing fiercely. "I'll need to fix that."

"You can't."

"Yes I can." she assured him innocently. Fright stole her next breath as she recognised Pierre come storming down the fire escape, striding towards the car. Instinctively, she held Dennis' hand tighter. "I'll see you tonight, won't I?"

Silence. Heavy, guilty silence. And Pierre was almost at Sharon's door.

"Promise me, Dennis." 

Tuesday 28th October 2003

10:30 pm

Pierre was stationed outside Sharon's bedroom door for the rest of the day. She didn't move. She lay rigid beneath the covers, wincing her way through the shocks of pain. He'd been told to check on her regularly and she got used to the way she went cold every time the door creaked and convienently, Pierre always found her asleep. She even got used to the pattern of his breathing and she began to resent it as the hours passed. She hated everything about him. He'd jerked her arm roughly and pulled her in to face Jack. In turn, Jack had barely looked up from his occupation, apparantly recognising his visitors by little more than the abruptness that Pierre entered the room.

"You know what to do..."

And for perhaps the first time, Sharon feared she was really about to meet her end. She was so weak anyway. And the pain that had been caused in Dennis' forced touches was nothing compared to what Pierre caused her to feel as he forced her on. Blood was still upon her lips she had bitten it so hard trying to keep back her screams of agony. And when she found she couldn't, tears pouring desperately down her face, Pierre seemed only to feed off it, the cruelest smile curving his lips. Sharon thought instantly of Dennis, how he had told her even Jack believed there were certain things you didn't do to a woman. How false was all that now? Jack had had her beaten at the most unwilling of hands, just to get her father's attention.

Of course, beating her was not enough for Den to know it had been done. So it wasn't to be that Pierre's thick hands would find themselves wrapped around Sharon's throat, or his knee forcing hers roughly apart as he degraded her, and oh she feared it, never quite trusting how any man, besides Dennis and the absent Jamie had looked at her. But no. He instead took a perverse pleasure in photographing every injury, glorifying every glistening drop of blood. Sharon felt so criminalised, but said nothing, supposing that that way, it would all be over quicker.

And so, she had come to lie in her bed for hours, cold and lonely. She just wanted Dennis to come back. She knew she'd feel safer then. It didn't make her feel safe in any kind of way to consider where he was and what he had been doing since he'd had no choice but to surrender her to Pierre. She thought that maybe he was slumped somewhere, drinking heavily straight out of the bottle and hating himself more and more. Sharon hated that she doubted what she had done. But at least... he was still alive? Right?

It was a good few treacherous hours before she was aware either way. She was tired, but her body was too pained to allow her to sleep. So to see the doorhandle go down and not hear that foul rhythm of such heavy breathing was a welcome relief. Pierre was no longer outside. Because Dennis, looking rather bleary eyed even in this darkness it was true, had slid determinedly into the room, the door clicking shut as he backed against it.

"Where is he?" Sharon murmured thickly.

A smile flickered across Dennis' drawn face at the sound of her voice. "Gone." he assured her quietly. "My shift."

Warmth flooded through her as she realised they were alone. Smiling coyly against the duvet she was snuggled into, Sharon wriggled to pull herself into a sitting position.

"Agh..." she winced.

"Don't get up." Dennis advised her gently, rushing anxiously across the room. "You shouldn't."

"I'll heal."

"Not the point." he replied, a little softer this time as the guilt crept into his voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." she confessed truthfully. Dennis looked away, biting into his lip, and Sharon regretted it. "Hey..." she whispered, reaching to press her palm against his cheek, still chilled by the elements. "You know I'm alright."

But he shook his head gently, turning to kiss her fingertips as they rested against his cheek, not saying a word.

"Worried about you, though."

"Shouldn't bother."

Sharon ignored those words. "Where have you been Dennis?"

"I don't know. I just... walked. Thought I'd... have this straight my head but I don't. Why'd you let me do this, Sharon? Why?"

"I told ya... I'm too scared to be alone right now."

Dennis frowned. "What did Pierre do?"

"Nothing." she assured him instantly with a simple shake of the head. "Well he... uh... took photos actually. My dad used to tell me I coulda been a model. Bet this weren't the way he was imagining it."

"You'll be OK now. Den ain't gonna stand for... he'll be round here like.. you'll be safe with him."

"Doesn't matter." Sharon told him kindly. "I feel just as safe with you."

Dennis smiled at her dismissively, giving her a look as if she had lost her mind. But she didn't care.

"I mean it. Today... you..."

"I know what I did." he said abruptly.

"No, listen to me..." she continued soothingly, caressing his face to hold his attention. "...you did something you hated, but I'm telling you, you did it for the best reasons. So I trust you... more than I trust my own damn father to care about me right now. And I think so much of you, because you had the courage to do something you didn't want to. Me... I've always run."

"You should have done."

"No." she murmured, her breath teasing his lips she was drawn so close. "Cos where you would be now if I had? I want you here with me."

Her lips pressed hungrily to his before their next collective breath was born. But he had to be painstakingly careful even returning her kiss at the intensity he needed to, able to taste the remnants of blood on her swollen lips. She felt him try and pull back a little, apparantly disgusted with himself. But Sharon was fierce, breathing; "No..." before she kissed him again, soothed by his perfect taste.

But he pushed her back as forcefully as he could bare before really causing her pain.

"It can't be like this, Sharon."

But she was unfazed, gasping a little in pain as she guided her knees to her chest. "You can't stop it, Dennis."

"What you tryin' to achieve here, huh?" he demanded as he began to pace the length of the bed. "You reckon you can save me or summat? From Jack Dalton?"

Sharon's eyes flared passionately. "If I thought I could, do you really think either of us would still be here? I'm terrified for you! So yeah... if taking this..." She gestured to her own battered form. "...means I'm trying to save you, then I am. What d'you want me to say? Sorry?"

"You're gonna get yourself killed."

Sharon shrugged her bruised shoulders. "Then I deserve this one night don't I?"

"Why?" Dennis questioned, aghast. "Why is that what you want?"

"You're dead... I'm dead... it doesn't matter which. Right now, we deserve each other."

"No!" He shook his head fiercely. "No! I... I coulda killed you today."

"No, you couldn't. It wasn't like that."

"But you don't know what it's like! I hate it so much. I hate that you've been made part of it! You don't belong here."

"Well, I can't exactly go anywhere right now."

Furious tears burnt in Dennis' eyes as he asserted; "You should have gone home."

She looked back at him defiantly, at last kicking the duvet back and forcing herself up onto her feet, idly twisting the sash of her dressing room. "I won't go anywhere until you do."

"Do you know where I'm going Sharon? Do ya? I mean, what the Hell do you want from me?"

"Your promise."

Dennis flinched, jerkily shaking his head. "I didn't promise you anything."

"But you came." Sharon replied faintly. "And for a while you were doing really well..."

His voice cracked desperately. "I can't be what you want. Not now."

"But you are. Don't you get that?"

"I get that you're scared. And you know what... I would be too if the only guy in my company had done that to me..."

"Then you don't get it." Sharon said sadly, dropping defeatedly back onto the bed as she watched him. "I'm not afraid of you. Terrified of everything that's around you, yeah. And I'll admit to a couple of moments. But the only thing that scares me right now is what's gonna happen to you. So don't use today as an excuse cos it doesn't work. If you need to get out of here, Dennis, then go."

His eyes filling, Dennis nodded desperately as his gaze fell to the floor; only listed again as Sharon climbed from the bed, wincing at the seers of pain as she came unsteadily towards him. It was his guilty instinct to reach out for her and she smiled weakly as he drew her into his arms and took her weight without complaint as he held her. Sharon smiled weakly and straightened her bruised back with a grimace, nestling against Dennis' ear, kissing the chilled lobe fleetingly and whispering;

"Don't turn your back on me cos you feel guilty, Dennis. We did this together because we had to, it's not your fault. I will never blame you. Just please don't leave me on my own tonight."

Tuesday 28th October 2003

10:50 pm

Shaking furiously, Dennis slowly released a shuddering breath as he looked at her. It didn't feel right in his chest. It felt even more alien breathed. And Sharon looked back at him, panicked, just for that second. Carefully, he tightened his arms around her, not wanting to cause any painful pressure to the many injuries that were his fault no matter how many times she forgave him. Gently pushing back the strands of her fringe, he kissed the cut just above her eye, the softness of his lips drinking away the sting. And she dared to smile as she snuggled cautiously against him, realising that he wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm sorry darlin'." he shivered in a whisper as he held her. "I'm so sorry."

"I know." she murmured. "So..." And she stretched up to press his mouth, inviting his reaction, hardly believing how tender a man made so violent could be. It made her shiver. It made the pain a throbbing memory. It barely mattered as he stood close, finally allowing her to let her hands dance teasingly up the nape of his neck as she forced him closer. She felt him smile anxiously against her kiss and butterflies flittered in her aching stomach.

He guided her to the bed, lying her carefully down before she could wince with the pain.

One hand pulled hesitantly at the sash of her dressing gown, unravelling the knot. Sharon felt his hand draw back and she had to encourage him by wriggling as slowly as she could so as not to aggravate her every injury. She watched Dennis bite into his lip, but she knew he understood. And he stroked the silky folds of the dressing gown apart. They fell away like a second skin, revealing her bare and battered body.

"It doesn't matter." Sharon breathed, anxious to catch his lips again and with it, his attention. 

He kissed her briefly, but felt the tug of his conscience and answered; "Yes it does..." before he pressed his lips to the huge, angry bruise that seeped out from the crook of her neck and threateningly across her shoulder.

Sharon was burning almost instantly. She felt... safe... she felt pain... she felt anticipation... she felt excited. God, how could he do so much? His lips moved across her every bruise, graze and injury, and his every kiss seeked to soothe as they went on. And as he began to make love to her, oh God, there was nothing she wanted more. There was nothing that made more sense. And she knew that he was still torturing himself on the inside, but she couldn't let it matter, Because he was here, so beautifully different to the selfish, sarcastic thug she had met just nights ago. There was feeling. The fact they didn't understand it meant nothing in comparison to its presence.

Sharon, however, became nervously rigid in his arms as they lay together. And Dennis' first thought was that he had hurt her in some unspeakable way, and he couldn't bear it, hating himself even more intensely for the weakness Sharon had demandingly created within him. But that wasn't it. Not for Sharon. It was simply that... their first night together had been born out of madness she was resigned to never understanding. Their second had been at Dennis' insistence, and Sharon could well believe many women before her and been manipulated by him for such an episode.

But this, their third... it was true. Because Sharon knew she wanted him, even after he had been forced to beat her in such a way she didn't know that the physical pain would ever leave her. But Dennis had also unintentionally caused her other agonies. Because she stood to lose him, and she believed more and more with every passing hour in this horrible place that Dennis was the only one she trusted. He was the only one she cared to see. To know he was alright. This was not just lust. In some frightening way, it was a connection she knew she would be lost without. And... she'd never come to lay in his arms before. He'd always gotten up and left with sharp words. He was still here... holding her. And it felt so nice... normal.

So her stomach dropped as she felt him tug his arm as gently as he could from beneath her. He wasn't going to stay to endanger her, to hurt her in any kind of way. She'd recover without him. There would be nothing to recover from had it not been for him.

"No..." she whispered desperately, deliberately snuggling closer against him so there was no hope he might manage to move the arm he had tried to. "Stay..."

Dennis let his head drop against the pillow as he turned to face her, offering a small, but warm smile of disbelief. "I've never..."

Sharon tried to giggle, but found that the sound died away because the birth had hurt. "Try it." she challenged softly, kissing lazily across his jawline before peppering his lips as she spoke. "You might like it."

Dennis couldn't quite comprehend her. She really was unlike anyone he had ever met before in his life. So damn strong, so full of nerve and will. So beautiful, like... truly. And really able to find any kind of softened regarded inside her for someone like him. He wanted to hold her forever. But of course... that wasn't gonna be all that long anymore.

"I should go..."

Her deep eyes glimmered happily as she whispered; "Tell me what you're so scared of..."

"Right now darlin'... everything."

"No, I don't mean them, anything like that. I mean, what makes you so scared of... just staying here with me? It's normal, I promise."

He chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well you should know by now I don't do normal."

"Well, I want you to. Please..."

Dennis sighed, lying against the pillow, studying her face, all that incredible beauty shining out so effortlessly from beneath the every ugly mark that bore his name. She kept blinking slowly back at him, fighting off the tiredness that had swooped upon her to steal her pain for this one night. He could see she was stubborn and would fight it off until the moment he gave in. He wanted to... so much, but knew he couldn't for the sake of protecting her.

But he wanted to. So much.

And he wasn't going to watch her in this pain all night.

"I'll try, alright? I promise I'll try."

His hand idle beneath the covers began tracing the raised gash on her thigh, somehow drawn to it. Sharon didn't seem to mind, comforted even by the tickling circuits. She was almost smirking as she let her eyelids close, permitting sleep to take her as she lay in her guilty lover's arms.

"You allowed to make them?"

"Promises?" Dennis laughed so very gently, afraid of stirring her as she fell. "No. In fact... think that one's my first. Scary thought, right?"

"No." she answered dreamily. "I trust you, don't I?"

Wednesday 29th October 2003

4:35 pm

Nothing had touched Dennis all day. He even managed to ward off the guilt as he looked at Sharon today, comforted beyond all belief at the realisation he'd woken up to her still laying in his arms, sleeping like a fallen angel. She'd looked so beautiful, so completely out of pain. And even for the injuries to mark her, Dennis felt something for the very first time in his life. Lucky. Not just to be alive like was usual,o have escaped from a blow-up with all four limbs in working order - all working order meant anyway was being ready to go out and bust yet more kneecaps, destroy more innocent lives with every reckless consequence; he felt lucky... not to be alone.

He'd never felt a regard for any woman he had ever known. Always taking what he wanted and heading off to live through the next day of his mindless existence. He'd honestly thought they were there to be used, to gratify him when they were needed. He'd never considered anyone halfway to human. And now there was Sharon and she was so different. She'd made him so different. It scared him because she'd created something in him he didn't understand. But what he knew didn't make him feel any better, so... why not take this risk? One of them would be gone soon enough anyway. Sharon, back to the safety of a family that he knew couldn't help but love her, whatever doubts she'd been having. Or him, in a way he didn't dare to imagine. 

Sharon didn't need to feel anything for him in all this time. She'd go back to her life and she'd forget him. The fact that he knew he was feeling something after so many cold years meant more to Dennis than he'd dare contemplate. Terrified him, yes, but why shouldn't his heart pound a little quicker? There was no point in taking his time anymore, not even with such simple things as breathing.

In fact, the only thing he chose to do at his leisure, was watch her. She was sleeping, she was inanimate apart from the mechanics of her sleeping body, warm against his, but still, she was mesmerising. Because somehow, this wasn't like any other time he had known. He didn't want to jump up and bolt from her bed because he had an all-consuming existence to return to. He didn't feel nothing. He wanted to stay.... he wanted to stay with her. In this warm and blissful haven, where they seemed to fit so well, where only the two of them would fit. She made him believe, even if it was only for a moment, that he had a place. He'd never have thought it before. But lying beside her was the kindest place he had ever found himself. He was loathe to go.

He had forced himself to before she had stirred, although she had whimpered in her sleep as he taken his arms from around her. He believed they ached in protest, not because of the body that had lain against them, but because it no longer did that so contently. But still, although he did not let it show, there was a smile on his face. It felt so strange but all at once it felt so... right. Not much ever had before. 

"Word."

Dennis' eyes instinctively narrowed in contempt as he took in Pierre striding towards him, shoving roughly against Dennis' shoulder as they collided. Dennis held himself straight and, clearing his throat, turned on his heel to follow him. Scumbag. Really was a jumped up little shit. Dennis supposed he despised him so much cos Pierre reminded him so bloody much of his bastard self ten or so years ago. So full of it, still thinking there was summat to come outta livin' your life like this everyday. Summat good... not just your boss killing you off cos he was getting bored. Dennis wanted to at least give Jack a reason to kill him if it was coming anyway. As long as this irritating little bastard weren't the one to do it of course, cos oh no, he was not gonna be able to take that kinda demise lying down, tied up, whatever. There'd end up being a very different name on the coroner's report.

"What?" Dennis demanded sharply.

Pierre settled back, smirking as he folded his arms smugly across his chest, his cold eyes studying Dennis' form.

"Look at you.... really think you've got him fooled, don't you?" Dennis simply blinked. "Jack."

"Oh, I gave that up years ago."

Unimpressed by the sarcasm and obvious disconcern, Pierre's eyes glittered coldly. "Liar."

Dennis smirked and answered confidently; "I don't think I like your tone."

But Pierre was unmoved. "And I don't think the boss'd like it if he'd seen what I saw last night."

"Been staring at your reflection again?"

He smiled tightly and spat; "You, spooned up to her."

Dennis stumbled. "You what?"

"I thought you were a "love 'em and leave 'em" type of guy, Rickman? Easier that way innit? Stay longer than it takes ya to do your fuckin' fly up and you're committed. What's it about her eh? What's she do for ya?"

Dennis' mouth was dry. "How do you... how did you...?"

Pierre smirked, much like a cat that got the cream. "Wow. Not even gonna humour me and deny it? I went to check on her last night... this morning, about three? And there you were. Something's wrong with you Rickman. Or at least it will be by the time Jack hears from me."

"You'd love to think you're scaring me wouldn't ya?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. The blonde though? Oh, it's amazing what women'll do when they're running scared. Course... you already know that. Cos it's you she's doing!"

Wednesday 29th October 2003

4:45 pm

Dennis, unmoved, kept his head level, barely blinking as he took half a step forward, his lips set straight as he snarled; "You wouldn't dare touch her."

Pierre however, was still amused, his smirk very much in place as he returned, "Oh, but I'd love to. Obviously worth it, ain't she?"

His neck jerked stiffly as he shook his head. "Course she ain't. We both know what's gonna happen now, don't we eh?"

"Been nice knowing you, Rickman."

"Oh shut up for fuck's sake, you ain't impressing anybody. He'll kill me and we both know that."

Pierre nodded sombrely. "Didn't stop you though did it?"

Dennis shrugged. "Why should it? Might as well die for a reason, hadn't I? But Sharon? No. Cos if you... if anyone touches her, then you're coming the same way and you have got some much to learn."

"You flatter me." he answered dangerously.

"Dunno why, cos I ain't trying. This is nothing, y'know that? Living like this, it's nothing. You woulda been better than this once."

"What, like you?"

Dennis laughed gently at the sneer against Pierre's smooth lips. "Oh, I was never better. Always known I'd only be leaving one way."

"Ain't no more than you deserve."

"But you're still talking me. And I couldn't give a fuck."

"Your whore know that?"

Dennis flinched angrily, sharpening a breath that was soft as he drew it in warningly. "You wanna be careful, Pierre, you know that? Jack's never appreciated name-calling. Ain't operating a playground, see."

But Pierre remained rigid apart from the defiant tilt of his chin, glaring over at Dennis through narrowed, venemous eyes. "He ain't never going to appreciate you knocking off the victim either is he?"

"She ain't a victim." Dennis snapped angrily.

Pierre's cold eyes flared with interest. "Oh no? Then you tell me, Rickman, gotta get the details right, ain't I?"

Dennis scoffed. "Like the bruises you mean? Cos she took every single one and she's wearing them damn well."

"Do summat for ya does it, the battered wife look?"

"She wouldn't let me stop!" Dennis yelled, finding that his hand was caught fast around Pierre's throat before he was even aware of animation in his own body. "I didn't wanna touch her!"

He was only satisfied by the ugly sounding crunch Pierre's spine made when it came to very forcible contact with the wall. His composure was gone, having cried out in agony before he remembered he was supposed to keep all displays of weakness down.

"Still couldn't keep your hands off her though could ya?"

Pierre regretted uttering such a rise as Dennis rammed him hard against the wall, causing his neck to jerk agonisingly as his head jerked back and thudded against the wall, a blinding pain ensuing.

"I ain't expecing this to mean anything to scum like you-" Dennis hissed dangerously. "-cos in the end you ain't gonna mean nothing to no-one. But she's someone. She's someone's daughter, she's got a kid sister, people that'd have nothing without her - and Jack just sits back and tells me to destroy her? What fuckin' right have I- has Jack got? She ain't even Watts' blood and Jack's still using her! And what for eh?"

"Same as you..."

"Shut up!" Dennis seethed, his fist slamming hard into Pierre's stomach, sending him reeling in agony. Dennis let him fall heavily to the floor, kicking t him savagely before he's even heard the thud. "Who'd know? Who'd care if I kept going, Pierre? Left you here... for dead. You don't deserve any more than that. And I'm gonna get such a... kick out of it. Cos I care about her... and she ain't staying here to be mauled and wrecked by fuckers like you. Make sure you tell Jack that. Cos if it's gonna be over my dead body that she gets out of here, then I'd like to leave... a trail. Starting with the every bone in your body!"

Roughly forcing the crumpled Pierre to roll over onto his back with a sharp kick, Dennis promptly forced his weight down through his raised foot - settled squarely on Pierre's nose. Dennis released a despairing breath as the hot jets of blood gushed out, threatening to stain his shoes.

"You ever broken a rib? A limb? You ever lain in a ditch for three days in your own blood wondering if it'll ever stop hurting? Have ya?"

Reeling as Dennis kicked him hard in the chest, regardless of how Pierre had instinctively curled up fetally to protect himself, he was left to splutter desperately for breath as he shook his head. Dennis tilted his head, false sympathy sweeping across his face.

"Oh... you need to try it, man, really. You ain't lived til that second you know you're gonna die... and believe me, it couldn't happen to a nicer bloke."

Pierre was almost weeping as Dennis continued relentlessly in his assualt, such hatred and disgust raging inside him for this one man and everything beyond him, everything he was part of and couldn't possibly understand. He just wanted to hurt him. So much, just for threatening the one hopeful thing left in what Dennis was going to be his last few days of one miserable and sickeningly memorable existence.

And even as this anger burnt, everything in his mind was clear. He wanted Pierre found, broken, half drowning in his own blood, whatever, long as it weren't gonna be forgotten. Sharon... she'd be gone... back to her baby sister, her dad... and Dennis... he'd find something worth remembering in his own destruction. He wouldn't feel the pain. Cos he'd have done that one honorable thing, just to prove how much he wanted to cancel out some of this repulsive things he had done surrounded by so many without consciences.

Trying to soothe the seering agony in his stomach and ribs simultaneously with crushed hands, Pierre lolled desperately over onto his side, tears built in his eyes as he tried to plead with Dennis, who stood above him as cold and unfeeling as Jack had always wished him to be.

"Rickman... please..."

Calmly, his breathing strangely in sync even with such violent exertion, Dennis shook his head and answered; "Fuck you. You've gone too far. Too fuckin' far."

Ready to turn from the room, with just another sharp kick reserved for Pierre simply for Dennis' own satisfaction, he was more irritated than anything to hear him yell out; "No! Don't you wanna know what-"

"I ain't interested in anything you've gotta say."

But Pierre was not deterred by this dismissal, more by the way he seemed to be choking on mouthfuls of his own blood.

"He wants her." he spluttered.

Dennis span round, his attention definitely refocussed. He narrowed his eyes venemously. "What do you mean "he wants her"?"

But Pierre was left to groan and cry at the pain of his injuries which enraged Dennis, causing him to swoop down and wrench him carelessly up by the collar, shaking him furiously with no thought to his obvious agony. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." he cried out. "You know why he'd kill you. You've taken what the Boss wants, Dennis."

"No. Nah... he just... wants to get her old man close. He wants to hurt him, he doesn't really want- no! You're lying!"

"Am I? So why do you want her?"

"Shut up." Dennis warned, feeling the coil in his chest tighten dangerously. "Shut up." 

And to ensure it, Dennis made sure he kicked him savagely on his way past, so blinded by the gut wrenching fear, the repulsion that he barely knew where he had struck him so viciously until he realised that blood was pouring from Pierre's mouth and soaking the carpet as he tried to stop his loosened teeth choking him.

But Dennis didn't care. There was nothing, no-one to care about anymore. He didn't care if Pierre never got up from that spot, whether he was found dead or alive. There was only Sharon.

5:25 pm

Sharon had been sat rigidly on the bed, her knees bent up sadly to her chest from the moment she had realised that the warmth she and Dennis had created together upon it had died away. It was then she was left to think about the life she had been removed from. How was Den? Why had Sharon been left without a word? Had he not... contacted Jack in any way? Didn't he care... was he hurt? Was Vicki alright? Oh God, to even imagine Vicki over these last few days shattered Sharon's heart. It wasn't Vicki's correspondance anyone was counting on. She would have just been left to fret and worry until she was sick. Sharon had been the one there to see it happen all the other times in Vicki's life. Sharon felt so lonely here, her arms ached to hold her little sister, to swear it was all gonna be alright. But the truth was, Sharon was here, shaking with an unknown fear. Because she knew nothing herself. 

She considered that Dennis was the only one likely to know. But he wasn't about to tell her. She just... knew it. And that scared her even more. Especially seeing as Jack himself had made her very aware that she stood to lose Dennis just as she had seemed to lose everyone in her life.

Soon.

So there she sat, staring at the chipped polish on her toenails as she tried to ignore the tears in her eyes. She barely heard the door creak, but catching sight of Dennis out the corner of her eye, she had to look again. She hadn't been wrong. Relief flooded through her and she clambered off the bed, throwing her arms round him, just... needing to be held before she was all out of everything. She just needed to feel the warmth of a willing body against hers... a heartbeat, anything...

But his arms were rigid around her and did not dispel her tears. It made her cold with a new extra anxious fear.

"Dennis?" she whispered fearfully as she drew back, shivering.

But he bit hard into his lip, his glimmering eyes somehow glazed as he looked back at her, making her stomach churn.

"Wh-What's wrong?"

Dennis looked down slowly. Sharon was loathe to let her own gaze follow, instead watching a miserable pulse in his throat.

But when she did look down, she recoiled in horror at the streaks of blood that stained his violently shaking hands.

"What have you done? Wh-Why did you- Dennis!"

He didn't say in a word in reply. In fact, he couldn't even meet her eye. He pushed past her and rushed into the bathroom. She stood rigidly on the spot and listened to the thundering of the taps. Then she steeled herself to turn on her heel and follow him. She leant heavily against the doorframe and watched him at the sink, billows of steam rising from the basin. He winced as he lowered his stained hands into the scalding water, tinging it immediately.

"Please..." she pleaded in a steady whisper. "...tell me what's going on."

"I think I killed him."

Sharon's breathing quickened dangerously and she saw Dennis flinch in accusation as he scoured madly at his hands. She fought to control herself, questioning shakily; "Who?" Silence, all apart from Sharon's erratic heartbeat. "Dennis, you're scaring me!"

And Dennis' lip trembled and as he lifted his gaze to level with Sharon's frightened own. "Did you mean it?"

"What? What am I supposed to have-"

"Last night... you said you trusted me. Did you mean that?"

Sharon sensed the urgency in the question and it made her even more nervous. And so did the fact that blood that was evidently not his was streaking the water.

"Y-Yeah." she replied shakily.

"Don't lie to me, Sharon, OK? Cos I can't stand liars... ah!"

She rushed forward to wrench his abused hands from the water before they blistered as was the scalding heat of the water. She clasped his soaked hands, shaking desperately. "I'm not lying... I'm scared. That's different. I trust you. I do."

He scoffed bitterly, pulling his hands back and drying them roughly on the huge towel folded on the radiator before he stormed back into the bedroom, pacing like a caged animal.

"Well, you shouldn't! You know that? Cos this is what comes of trying, this is what comes of making promises!"

"What? What comes?" Sharon questioned feverishly, scanning his face with darting eyes. "Dennis, please! Just tell me... who did you-"

"Pierre." 

Sharon frowned in confusion. 

"You know, jumped up little bastard living in Jack's shadow?" He laughed bitterly. "That was me, fifteen years ago. Never thought I could make meself sick. But that's what he is. He's me. And he's the one that's coming for me... for us."

"Us? I don't-"

Dennis tilted his head up, speaking steadily when all he wanted to do was pummel his fist into the wall with frustration. "He knows Sharon."

Staggered, Sharon fell back a step, mind reeling. "How can he... did you...?"

"Do I look that stupid?" Dennis scowled, softening only as Sharon shrank further away in regret, childishly shaking her head and causing wisps of her hair to whip her across the face. "He... uh... saw me here last night. I told you I shoulda gone..."

Sharon pressed her shaking hands over her mouth. "But I just... I just wanted... oh God, no! What are you... gonna do?"

He shrugged. "I told ya... I've always known it's coming."

"No!" Sharon insisted tearfully. "No! You're not just gonna wait for this!"

"No." Dennis assured her simply, shaking his head. "Because I need you to trust me to get you out of here first. And I will do that, Sharon, OK, I will. Somehow. Just..." 

Sighing gently, he stopped pacing and looked at her. She didn't seem so strong anymore; frightened and regretful tears burning in her big, sparkling eyes. Dennis hated what he was reducing this one woman too. But at least he knew his last promise would stand, even if... even if it would feel as though he'd been ripped in half. But nothing was going to be about him for all that much longer. He barely mattered. He never had.

But she did. People out there going frantic for her, just wanting her to be safe and to love as they had done their whole lives. Time for the Princess to go back to the safety of her castle.

Dennis wrapped his arms tight around her, feeling her body tremor against his as she snuggled down against him. They held each other as if they were never going to let go, their two bodies creating a safe cocoon in this miserable panic. It was going to smother them, wrench them apart.

Soon.

"...just trust me for a few more hours yeah? You'll be alright.... I promise."

Wednesday 29th October 2003

5:50 pm

Sharon, trembling still, tilted her head against Dennis' chest, almost relieved to feel the erratic pounding of his heartbeat. And yet at the same time, it unsettled her desperately. For how much longer could she hear it? For how much longer was he out of harm's way?

Dennis didn't bother to think such thoughts. He concentrated on the strength with which he held her, loathe to ever let her go. But he had to, and perilously soon or... or...

"What's going to happen, Dennis?" Sharon whispered tearfully.

Biting hard into his lip, refusing to accept that hot tears were pricking in his eyes, Dennis bowed his head, burying his face in Sharon's sweet smelling hair and mumbling awkwardly; "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

"Then you're scared too." she surmised sadly.

Dennis' mouth was dry as he tried to reply. "I ain't gonna lie, darlin', alright? I am scared... scared there ain't enough time."

"Stop it!" Sharon pleaded, pushing back from him and covering her miserable mouth with her hand to smother the sound of the sob that threatened to choke her. "Why can't you just think about you? You can't stay here... you can't!"

"And neither can you." Dennis argued stubbormly. "Jesus Sharon, if you knew-"

"But I don't!" she shrieked angrily. "I don't because you won't tell me!" 

She couldn't fight the urge to strike him, her frustrations all crucifying her slowly on the inside. Dennis allowed her to catch him a few times, willing to feel even just a fraction of her pain. He'd carry it all for her now if he could, there wasn't long before he would be free too. But as he saw how much of a dangerous frenzy she was working herself up to, he caught her wrists and restrained her flailing arms. Sharon writhed desperately, definitely not done in her attack just yet.

"What is it Dennis huh? You liking putting the fear of God into me? That doing it for you as much as everything else?"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Dennis hissed in reply as he released her.

"No! I don't! And the rate we're going, I never will! What the Hell are you playing at?"

"I'm trying to get you out of here with a pulse if you can imagine that!"

Sharon steeled herself to keep looking at him, tilting her head defiantly up. "At what cost, Dennis... c'mon."

But he shook his head dimissively as she glared demandingly at him. "What d'you want me to say, Sharon? Game's up, that's it."

"So you're just gonna let 'em kill you? What for, what are you even supposed to have done?"

Dennis managed to smirk as he inclined his head, gesturing towards Sharon herself. "You."

She shuddered in repulsion at the way he had chosen to put it, but tried to force the disgust away and keep her voice level. "Well... so what? I'd have thought anyone with a pulse was fair game around here."

"Ah, but that's it, isn't it? You aren't just anyone, Sharon. You're what Jack wants. He did warn me... but I guess there's just something about ya."

Sharon frowned in confusion. "What d'you mean... what Jack wants?"

He nibbled guiltily at his lip, sighing as he realised he had no way to get out of delivering an answer. "I wish I knew how to wrap this up prettier..."

"No." she said bluntly, shaking her. "Just tell me what you mean."

"He could have you killed, I don't know. I haven't heard anything about your dad or... but I do know..." He blew out a shallow breath, not sure whether he had the nerve to complete this one sickening sentence, even as it sat in his mouth. "Look, Jack laid down the rules as soon as you turned up alright? I was supposed to watch, nothing else."

Sharon scowled as realisation hit. "You mean we weren't supposed to end up at it?"

"Don't start on me Sharon. You ain't proud of yourself either. I know what you wanna think alright, but it ain't true. I'm no different to anyone here. And if Jack wants rid of me, it's only cos I've done enough to deserve it. I mean, look at you for God's sake!"

"No!" she snapped hotly. "Don't! Just tell me what you mean!"

"Oh you know what I mean, you just don't wanna admit it. The way he looks at you, touches you... he's all over you. You've gotta be the only woman of the last five or so years that can really make Jack Dalton salivate and that ain't pretty. Whether or not he decides to kill you is gonna be an afterthought, you get where I'm going with this? He knows what he wants from you and if you don't give it to him, he'll take it anyway."

Sharon reeled back, bile rising in her stomach as she shook, nauseated. "He wants to rape me?"

"Nah. He'd much rather you were willing..."

"Well, I'm not! Just the thought of... I feel sick. I wouldn't do that to myself... to you!"

Dennis flinched. "I don't matter. It ain't about me."

"No?" she questioned fiercely. "So what are these last few days, Dennis, hmmm? Cos unless you can stand there and convince me you were using me like everyone else you've ever known then I... why are you trying to protect me?"

His soulful eyes locked on hers as he mumbled; "Cos this... it's my last chance to do something right. And you don't have to believe it Sharon, but I care what happens to you."

She nodded painfully, another sob swelling in her throat as she demanded childishly; "So why won't you let me care too?"

Lazily, Dennis hunched his shoulders. "Lost cause. I know what's coming to me Sharon and I accept it. But if he thinks he's gonna touch you, then bloody hell, he will be doing it over my dead body."

"Don't!"

And as she began to cry helplessly, Dennis stepped up and wrapped his arms around her shuddering body, soothing her quietly as he murmured in her hair; "I'm sorry... shhh... you're gonna be alright... shhh..."

"Come too." she whimpered. "Please... come with me."

Dennis shook his head stiffly. "Not an option."

"Yes it is!" she insisted desperately. "If you can get me out of here then... then you're out of here too. You just... you don't turn back - you come with me!"

Dennis swallowed down a painful lump in his throat and bowed his head, able to feel Sharon's own pulsing agony as he tilting up her chin, casing her face with slippery palms. "I would never survive outside these walls. Never. They'd hunt me down Sharon and if they found you too... why can't you understand... there is nothing out there. I can't stop this..."

Sharon fought to control the pattern of her breathing, her vision misted by threatening tears as she looked back at him. "And I can't leave you here..."

"Yes you can." he whispered tenderly as he stroked the fat tears away. "I'm not leaving you a choice."

"Please..."

"No. You have to stop this; I can't be what you want, and I will never be what you need, alright? I'm just me and believe me darlin', you ain't even scratched the surface. If you had, you'd already be a hundred miles in the other direction. That's where you need to be, you understand? Cos your dad's waiting Sharon... and Vicki's waiting. I don't matter."

5:55 pm

Was an hour enough time? Jack smiled to himself as he stormed up onto the landing, his lumbered walk more a self assured strut. He was feeling very confident tonight. But then of course, he paid his workforce to make him feel nothing besides. They were the little people, he was the one with the power and he wasn't about to let anybody forget it. That was precisely why he thought nothing of strolling into Sharon's room without pausing to knock. Why should he? He was the host, and she should have been grateful he was keeping her in such a hospitable manner. So many had truly suffered. But Sharon, even with the bruises discolouring so readily across her body, from her face to her ankles, she was still a very attractive woman and Jack knew many would agree. He wasn't about to leave her a choice in this. While she was here, she was his. Nobody was going to say otherwise.

Jack smiled privately to himself as he took in the way Dennis leapt away from his charge, like their proximity burned him. Oh, Jack was willing to bet on that, but that certainly wasn't for tonight. Oh no, Jack had plans for tonight, very personal plans. For one night only, Rickman was free to please himself.

"Sharon..." Jack began steadily, puffing out his chest. 

Dennis smiled uneasily as he caught his boss' eye and backed off into the shadows, leaving Sharon to stare awkwardly at the floor, preferring anything to looking at the vast, vile man stood in front of her, demanding from her in just his tone.

"Jack."

"Looking much brighter today."

She wanted to recoil she was so damn repulsed, but found all she could do was glare venemously at him. "I don't feel it."

"No, of course you don't." he answered with a false sympathy that made her want to retch. "That's because you need a good, stiff drink inside you. And that's fortunate, I'm having a little get-together this evening see, close contacts, associates..."

"Henchmen... enforcers... killers?"

Jack smirked. "Such a suspicious nature..."

"Fourteen years without your dad does that to you, Jack."

"So..." he mused thoughtfully, smacking his lips together. "I'm guessing that these few extra days aren't changing much then? I must say Sharon, I really wasn't expecting old Den to be so... quiet. It's almost as if he's... dead or something!"

And that intense volume of hatred subsquently exploded out of the emotionally woman and she threw herself furiously forward, blinding striking Jack wherever he could be caught.

"You evil... you lying- how dare you! If he's-I hate you... you're-"

"Dennis!" he barked desperately as he tried to fend her off.

Dennis had been watching, somehow mesmerised. He knew how wrong it was to allow Sharon, such a precarious physical state as she was already in, to enter into such a grave situation and yet it was as if the intensity of her hatred, her despair made her ten times stronger in the face of everything that threatened. And even as tears poured from her watery eyes as if they would never stop, she was still stronger than any woman he had ever known. They had all been weak and... easy. And even her presence right now was a threat and somehow all he wanted was to protect her. He let his arms surround her, pulling her forcefully back, even as she struggled.

"Sharon, for God's sake! What are you doing?"

"Get off me!" she yelled angrily, unable to keep her glaring eyes from Jack, who stood there looking thunderous.

"No, look, just-"

"I said, get off me!" In a desperate bid to free herself, without thought, Sharon thrust her elbow sharply back into Dennis' stomach. With a pained yell, he staggered back. Sharon whirled round, gasping in horror. Her apology was ready on her lips, but she bit hastily into it to stop herself.

"Jesus..." Dennis muttered, forcing himself not to wince as he straightened up. "...anyone would think you were trying to make it hurt."

Sharon blanched at her lip, realising with a shiver that she had no choice but to talk back just as coldly. "Sorry." she answered bluntly. "Shall we go again?"

Jack, thankfully, was completely taken in by the stormy looks that passed between the two of them and chuckled, humoured.

Unable to stand the sound, Sharon whirled round and demanded viciously; "What the Hell do you want Jack?"

"Ooooh." he winced. "We're gonna have to work on your manners a little aren't we Sharon? Like I say... we should start with that drink."

"Or what?"

"Or... you're going to make me very upset."

Stood rigid behind Sharon, Dennis carefully nudged her in the back, out of Jack's view as he added firmly; "You don't want that."

"I never wanted any of this." she snapped back before she could stop herself. But she straightened up defiantly, flicking her hair from her eyes and looking coldly into Jack's small eyes. "What's in this drink then Jack, what's the kick?"

"I'm not sure I like what you're suggesting."

"Oooh, well look at that - me either!"

"I want you downstairs by half six, you understand?" Jack told her warningly. Sharon tried not to shake as his eyes flashed dangerously. "Doll yourself up... never know, you might enjoy yourself. Make sure she makes it down Dennis, alright?"

Dennis inclined his head sombrely. "Yes boss."

Fear suddenly struck Sharon square in the chest. "Where's he going?" she demanded, glancing in panic at Dennis.

Jack slowed up and turned around, heaving his vast shoulders. "Anywhere he wants. Likes a bitta socialising, don't ya boy?"

Sharon laughed bitterly, totally unable to bring her eyes from the carpet. "Just not as much as he likes the rest of it, right Jack?"

He gave her an ugly, toothy grin by way of reply and backed out of the room. Sharon barely allowed herself to breathe as the door clicked shut. Dennis' hands reassuringly squeezed her shoulders and he nestled against her, murmuring; "You'll be OK..."

"Will I?" she retorted doubtfully.

"I'm gonna be right there, alright?"

Sharon sighed and pushed him off. "No you won't. It's too dangerous."

"Yeah... course. And being left on your own with Jack ain't?"

"Have to take my chances won't I?"
 
"Sharon..."

"Shut up, Dennis." she answered shortly, turning away from him.

He was affronted, and bristled as a scowl slanted his lips. "Fine. Whatever. Just... when he's all over you, groping you in a room full of people, don't say I didn't warn ya. Enjoy it if you can."

9:45 pm

Sharon had never experienced anything less enjoyable in her life. Jack had stressed half six, but Sharon had tried so desperately hard to stay away. There were only so many calls of nature Sharon could hasten to answer before Jack was bored. It was barely quarter past seven before he'd demanded in that dangerously soft tone that Sharon stay by his side all night. "Stay" made it sound like it was voluntary. Perhaps clamped would have been a better word, because the hand Sharon had been forced to weave into the crook of Jack's thick arm was almost crushed he held it in place so fiercely. Sharon's every forced smile was more a grimace as she had been steered round, as if on auto-pilot, to meet dangerous men and shallow women with sour faces that said they didn't much care where the money came from as long as they were kept accustomed, probable stolen diamonds dripping from them.

Sharon felt so much like she was being showcased, like some trophy. Her gut was knotted and she definitely sensed she was in some kind of danger she wasn't likely to escape. Jack introduced her smugly as an acquaintance. She wondered continously what that masqueraded, because every man looked at her with that same knowing glint in their cold eyes that unsettled her beyond any understandable fear.

Victim? Prize? Bait? Whore?

She felt dizzy and sickened without touching a drop of the champagne that was continually forced into her unwilling, often tremoring hands. She didn't trust that it wasn't laced with something to make her weaker and she was more aware than ever that her own already waning strength was all she had left. The contents of her every glass had been abandoned or poured over one of the plants when, just for once, no-one's eyes seemed to be upon her.

Well, bar one. See, Dennis' eyes never left her. He stood round, keeping his distance and chatting idly to anyone and everyone that demanded his attention. And the women that stood smugly beside each and every man seemed to have no problem on launching a flirtatious attack on him, even as their meal tickets listened in. Where he didn't think it'd cost him the sensation in both legs, Dennis flirted almost instinctively back, realising, his eyes forever searching out Sharon, how damn empty and pathetic every word sounded.

He was perhaps the only one that did not miss how frustrated, frightened tears built in her eyes, perhaps the only one around willing to realise it in such dim, suffocating lights. He wanted so much to go over, to have an excuse to draw her away from everyone she was being paraded in front of. It made him sick to think that Jack was duping all these people that respected him out of nothing but fear into believeing that Sharon was his. 

No-one seemed to see through the inch thick layer of make-up that was concealing the every injury Dennis himself had so brutally, so guiltily bestowed upon her. No-one chose to notice the way she shook, or how her chest was pumping so rapidly up and down as she fought to retain her unease, her fear. Dennis saw it all, and oh, he wanted to save her. But he didn't know how, so was reduced to looking away everytime she desperately caught his eye - making like he didn't care and that maybe the latest pretty blonde in front of him was all that mattered now.

Dennis hated himself more intensely than he ever had before - but from the distance of their places in the room, how was Sharon to know that? She didn't believe he had forgotten all that he had promised her and she knew for certain that he was keeping up an act for Jack's sake, perhaps it had always been that way for Dennis. But she knew too that he was upset with her and that made her more anxious than she could bear; in this room full of unsettling strangers, she was stifled. She couldn't breathe. Dennis was all she knew, all she trusted and right now, he was too damn far away. And with every man that leered at her, she sought out her lover, wordlessly pleading with him to make her feel less vulnerable. But he would not catch her eye and Sharon, she was lonelier than ever.

No word from the father that loved her. No help from the lover that used her.

Nothing.

And yet they were all she had.

She was so frightened. So suffocated. It was like the walls leapt in and... oh, she needed to be free.

Jack seemed to have tired of her too and dismissed her without a care as she complained vaguely of fatigue.

"Need to keep that one in good shape, Jack!" his latest companion leered, his dirty gaze following Sharon as she leapt away, needing to be gone before he could change his mind. But with a huge, smoking cigar protruding out the side of his mouth, Jack and his captive audience were otherwise occupied, with "business" to discuss that Sharon realised was not for her to hear.

She raced from the room, her sides feeling incredibly tender, her feet sore from the agony of standing tall in heels and it was like time itself exploded. From the moment she had walked into the disgustingly smoky room, it was like the world stopped and time dragged by to torture her, to suggest that from now on she might only live to be Jack Dalton's trophy.

Oh, she felt so sick, to taste air in her lungs almost knocked her from her feet it was so sweet. The metal clattered beneath her feet as she edged out again onto the fire escape, reaching out to hold the banister tight. Tonight was calm and still. No beatings scheduled for tonight it seemed. Or perhaps later. Sharon didn't know or care. She just wanted to be gone. But there was nowhere to go.

Nowhere except...

Taking a deep breath, she climbed steadily up the stairs of the fire escape until she reached the roof, perhaps closer to the stars than she had ever been. She tilted her head back, twisting round in wonderment, wanting to take in the sight of as many as possible, to believe there was still something beautiful left in this world.

But Sharon only had to remember that beings such as Jack Dalton lived only to destroy all such hope and she scoffed, despairing of her own desperate naiveity.

Her father had abandoned her again. Her lover would be dead before another sundown. There was nothing anymore, no-one and oh, how Jack had strived to prove that to her. She was empty.

And Sharon refused to lose control. She took off her shoes, her aching, burning feet soothed by the cool, smooth concrete underfoot. She walked slowly to the low stone wall that enclosed the roof, and she reached out to let her feverish palms curl around the metal barrier. Holding her weight steady, Sharon pulled herself up onto the wall, lifting each foot to slide over the metal barrier, her hands held fast as she lowered herself onto the slender ledge.

She'd be alright...

10:00 pm

Dennis tried to swallow down the foul taste that had been building in his mouth. But it was refusing to leave, and it didn't seem to matter how mature or "fine" the liquors he had been drinking were, he could not cover it. He was so disgusted with himself, he could barely explain it. He barely understood. This was just one woman, getting to him in so many dangerous ways, he hated the situation he had drawn her in to. And he hated even more how he had had to step back and leave her to suffer it alone. Nausea had twisted Dennis' gut everytime he'd caught sight of her, flanked sternly by Jack, looking so smug and so undeniably eager to touch. He'd really battled to keep down his anger, stop himself tearing her away from his menances. If he knew it was coming to him, then why not sooner die than let him touch her?

Because he was a coward. There was no other reason, however hard he fought to conjur one as he stood, stifled in these smoky, dark surroundings, hating the company he kept. Was he really like all these? Glorifying every beating he had given so thoughtlessly, revelling in the seemingly insignificant lives he had destroyed? He really hoped not, but he feared it, his stomach knotted and his throat constricted as he fought to breathe steadily.

Muttering about his desperate need for a cigarette, Dennis left the cluster of men barely noticed. Jack caught his eye as he headed for the door and raised his glass of whiskey in recognition. Dennis nodded, sickened inwardly. Jack really must have thought he was stupid. But then, maybe he was, living like this, never really thinking about the ways in which they would end, even though he was well aware how very true they were.

Dennis bounded down the stairs towards the basement, wanting so much just to fade from view. And this was the only plausible way the ground would be willing to swallow him up. He pulled his ever present and further crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket and had sparkeed up before he even pushed against the bar of the fire door, the blast of icy air hitting him much like a slap in the face. That didn't mean to say it wasn't welcome. It just felt weird breathing actual air rather than boastful recounts and stale clouds of cigar smoke. Cos fresh air only forced clarity and Dennis suddenly realised he wasn't ready for that cos it was more likely to send him crazy.

Toking on his cigarette, barely offered a distraction, just that same old taste. His hand still shook and there was nothing to hold his attention away from all these whirring thoughts. He began pacing the rough tarmac, his head tilted back as he examined the sky, laughing bitterly to himself. Up there, things looked so hopeful. He felt pretty much out of that. But then... the morning would come and Sharon... she'd be safe. It hardly mattered what she thought about the rest of it - he was hardly gonna have time for all her thoughts in the middle of his own murder scene was he? Just to know that she was back with people that loved her was enough. It had to be cos it was all he was ever gonna have.

But still, that was better than what he had right now. The stars span out of focus as he spun round in a circle, taking in the misery of his surroundings; the wrecked tarmac, the crumbling buildings, overgrown vines tumbling threateningly off, trying to disguise the sheer mess it held within. And he was part of it, left it too late to be part of any different, never mind better.

His breath was smoky on the air without the effect of his cigarette, Dennis wtched the plume rise higher and higher, wishing he could go too. Anywhere had to be better than here, didn't it?

Wrong.

His heart was in his mouth, still thumping dangerously away. "Sharon?"

Of course, he was without the energy to announce her name at the level he needed to, muted with panic. He was seeing things wrong right? He blinked furiously. But no, she was still there, poised on the ledge of the roof, dropped forward by the way she was gripping the railing. The wrong side of the barrier Jesus, what was she playing at?

Not even leaving time to let this observation form into a thought, he raced back and leapt up the fire escape, two or three steps at a time. His every breath was painfully sharp in his chest, but he could barely allow it to hurt. The only thing that came to his attention was... Sharon's shoes, abandoned so casually in a pile, ten paces away from her on the roof.

Sharon knew it was him. She'd seen him come out, spinning round and staring at the stars with the wonderment of the little boy he had perhaps never been. Everything in this world was too damn late.

"Stay away from me." she called out shakily, very aware of his presence. Her arms tremored a little and Dennis' stomach was wrung with nausea, terrified she was about to fall.

"What are you... Sharon, do you have any idea-?"

"I said stay away! I mean it... I'll let go!"

Nervously, he leapt back. "Alright. OK..."

His hand shook violently as he kept toking on his practically forgotten cigarette, loathe to look at her even though horror meant he could not stop. And Sharon could feel his gaze burning into her back.

"Is this what it feels like to be you?"

"H-How... How d'you mean?"

"Looking down." she answered calmly. "Knowing how far there is to fall before you even drop."

"You're not gonna-"

"You sure about that?"  

"Course I fuckin' am!" he snapped, knowing that the way his voice swayed betrayed him desperately. 

Sharon bowed her head, smiling cruelly as she edged carefully along, her toes curled around the rough ledge as if she were a bird on a perch.

Dennis' stomach lurched and he threw himself forward, his hand slamming forcefully down onto hers, his weight pressed upon it so that she would not be able to move again.

"Jesus Christ Sharon, don't-!"

She turned her head accusingly to the side and sneered coldly; "What's it like having no control, Dennis? What's it like knowing there's nothing you can do to stop me? Pretty precarious up here isn't it? This place has been crumbling since before my time!"

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded quietly, terrified of how calm and collected she sounded even as nothing but a hard and bloody death waited for her below.

She smiled sweetly. "There's nothing wrong with me, Dennis. This... is my choice. What? Want me to look scared? Cos I'm not. This is all me. And you know what? I don't matter either."

Frustrated, he jerked her arm straight, ignoring her as she winced angrily in pain. "Listen to yourself Sharon, will ya? What are you even doing here? Your dad... Vicki, you thought what this'll do to them? Cos you're right. You drop, then you fall. There's nothing after that which is why no-one ever drops. You stay strong!"

Her burst of laughter mocked him. "Me? Yeah right! What for? My dad... he doesn't care! Where is he, Dennis, where? Did they hurt him, did they go after him like you came after Jamie? Is that what happened? Is it?"

How he wished he could lie to her. But he simply couldn't, looking guiltily away as he mumbled; "I... I don't know."

"So what? I stay... I wait? No! The way he looks at me... I can't... I can't stand it, it makes me wanna be sick. And I... I kept looking at you... just for something... anything... and you wouldn't-"

"I did." he assured her feverishly as he tossed his cigarette butt away, quashing beneath his foot. "I... wanted to know you were OK."

"Oh, well, I'm fucking fine aren't I? You're... just like the rest of them... like my dad! All you know is lies! You don't stay strong Dennis, you just die standing. You looking forward to that darlin'?"

Dennis bristled, choosing to ignore her. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one hanging off the roof."

Sharon scowled, biting into her lip to stem the way she shivered, her bare arms quaking dangerously all the way down to her fingertips.

"Why are you doing this?" he questioned sadly, stepping up cautiously closer. He heard Sharon's sharp intake of breath, but she released it again steadily, not about to reprimand him.

"Maybe I fancy feeling what you're going to, hmmm? Maybe I'd like to know you feel!"

He recoled a way back in disgust. "What do you think I am? Jesus Sharon, anything happens to you and you know... you know I-"

"No." she cut in sharply. "I don't."

"D'you want a reaction, is that what this is?"

"Do you want rid of me?" she demanded hotly, her brimming eyes ablaze with anger as she glared at him. "Cos all you've gotta do is say the word!"

"This is mad!" he hissed desperately, pulling on her hand.

"It's all I've got!" she shrieked, her voice shattering upon reaching a certain level. "It's the only way I'll get away from here without knowing what I did to you, without suffering for it!"

Dennis narrowed his eyes in incomprehension as he tried to process her tirrade of words. "What are you talking about, suffer? Sharon, I told ya, I'm gonna get you out of here... tomorrow!"

"So what?" she wailed. "After that... what is there? There's knowing you turned your back on me just to go and be slaughtered like... like an animal!"

"I seem to remember being labelled that way a few times darlin'!"

"Shut up! You wanna be a hero then fine! But you'll never be mine, you know that? Cos whether I get back to everything that was mine or not won't matter. It won't ever be normal again cos you woulda been selfish enough to... be killed and that's... that's all I'll ever see, every time I close my eyes. Wondering how brutal it was, how much pain you were in... you'll crucify me - just like they're gonna crucify you!"

"Why do you care so much?" he demanded despairingly, curling his hand into a frustrated fist.

Sharon laughed bitterly as she stared down at the ledge again. "That answers that question then don't it? You don't feel, maybe you don't know how, I don't know. I just know if you did, you'd know why cos you'd have felt it all too. Typical bastard male, you are."

"Bastard yeah, but not typical." Dennis replied softly, shaking his head. "No way. Cos I've thought about doing what you're doing enough times. I've walked to the edge, got up onto the barrier. Never climbed over though. Never had the guts. But... you wanna know how I feel, I'll tell ya one thing... you let go, then I'm over too. No question."

"Oh... there's plenty of them." Sharon scoffed.

Dennis smiled, nodding. "Cos you don't believe me. Yeah, I know. Why should ya?"

A lump rose painfully in Sharon's constricted throat as she fought to breathe in air. "Because I... I don't wanna lose you. Not like that. Right now it feels like you're the only one that... wants me and..."

"Shhh." he soothed, but Sharon heard the dismissal in his tone and shook with silent fury. "By the time you see your dad tomorrow... you won't even remember my name."

Sharon's facial muscles twisted in contempt of their own accord. "How can you... you really think so little of me?"

"On the contrary darlin', I've never thought more of anyone. Frightens me a bit. Fuck Sharon, you're scaring the life out of me right now!"

Her lip quivered as she fought back another all consuming sob. "What am I supposed to do about it? There's gonna be nothing of ya by tomorrow and I can't stand it!"

Stroking tenderly down her fingertips, Dennis tentatively squeezed the hand he had pinned to the barrier. "So what? You gonna throw yourself off and hope we end up in the same Hell?"

"I don't know." Sharon mumbled miserably. "But pretty much anything's preferable to knowing Jack wants to put his paws all over me tonight. With you and me, it's-"

Dennis flinched. "Y-You and me?"

"Well y-yeah." Sharon stammered, smiling uneasily through her tears. "That's what we are isn't it? Until tomorrow anyway. And I... I don't want tomorrow to come Dennis and I... I don't want to leave you here."

He nodded slowly in understanding and softly questioned; "So... why are you up here, telling me you're gonna let go. Cos... you do that Sharon and that's exactly what you've done. You've left me here."

Sharon shook as fresh tears poured from her eyes. "I know." she mumbled guiltily as she stared at her toes. "And I'm sorry. But isn't that what you're gonna do to me tomorrow? We're not just walking in opposite directions - they're going to kill you!"

"Yeah they are." he answered quietly, biting at his lip as he squeezed her hand again, wanting her attention without endangering her position. "And you wanna know why?" Sharon winced and turned her head away. But Dennis smiled gently and leant carefully across the barrier, strands of her hair caught up in the icy breeze and whipping his face as he whispered against her ear; "Cos they're never gonna get an apology outta me. And I ain't gonna be scared and darlin', it ain't gonna hurt, so long as I know you're OK. And right now, you ain't and it ain't helping."

"I don't want to help." she sobbed miserably. "I want you!"

His soft breathy laugh danced warmly across her bare shoulder. "How can you want what you don't know?"

"How can you?"

Dennis lifted his other hand and stroked along Sharon's right shoulder, trying to warm her bare skin. "You... are better than anything I've ever known, that's how. And you know you can't say the same."

"But I... I don't want to be on my own."

"How long's that gonna be for Sharon, really? Look at you, you're amazing."

Tenderly, he stroked strands of her hair away from her face and tucked them behind her chilled ear as she giggled forcefully. "I'm still jumping."

"No you're not. Cos really you know there's someone out there... someone who'll give everything you want and darlin', you don't deserve no less. I've never been anything. I could be stood where you are now and no-one would bat an eyelid. You fall and the world's gonna stop, wanting to know what made someone so strong and ambitious, so gutsy and beautiful wanna do this... here. Don't make me the reason Sharon, don't make it be me that breaks your dad's heart cos... he'll want answers. He'll deserve 'em too and you and me both know I ain't gonna be here to give 'em to him."

"No." Sharon sniffled begrudgingly. "But we might... be together someplace."

"Yeah." Dennis smiled weakly. "And we'd be happy right? Cos I know how to do that don't I?"

"Don't you have any self belief at all?"

He laughed uneasily. "Hey, the only person I've ever given a damn about is about to chuck herself off a roof, self belief's a bit wasted i'n't it?"

"I don't think so."

"Why? Why don't you?"

"Because you're just like me. If anything happens to you, I- and you just said that if I..." A moment's silence as she looked down in wonderment at the far off ground and she immediately sounded fearful. "I don't want to let go Dennis, I don't!"

Her breathing suddenly exploded into a very quick succession of sharp shallow breaths that left her unable to breathe at all as she back up against the barrier, frozen in fear as she fought to be sure of Dennis' presence behind her.

"Please... please don't let me go!"

"Sharon, it's alright... it's-"

"No it's not!" she cried out in a panic. "I'm scared! I'm going to fall! I am, I'm-"

"I've got you alright? I swear... I've got you. Now just... turn round, slowly."

Sharon whimpered at a level that suggested she was containing a scream inside.

"No, don't... don't look down OK? Just... look at me, right here."

"I don't want-"

"And you're not going to." he told her firmly, even as panic rose up inside of him also. 

Keeping hold of her hand, he reached with the other and guided her very slowly round, their terrified gazes locked together as Sharon's toes circled on the ledge.

"OK?"

She nodded jerkily as tears welled in her eyes.

"What... what do we do now?"

"You trust me?"

Sharon felt her already wrecked stomach drop. Was that fear she heard in his tone? Did she have him scared or did he not... did he not know what to do next? Unable to contemplate the terrifying prospect of either, Sharon forced herself, as she shook so violently to consider only his question. And the weight of it made her so damn miserable she found she could not lie to those mesmerising eyes.

"But you're just like everyone else. You're leaving me..." she murmured, breaking down all over again as she did so and Dennis felt his already precarious and much needed hold around her slip. He was all at once so much more than desperate.

"No!" he yelled. "No, I'm not!"

"Stop lying! You've made your choice. I told you... this was mine!"

"Then tell me how I change your mind, tell me what you want!"

"I want us to get out of here together. I want you to come with me, be with me!"

"Alright! I'll go with you. I will! Just... climb onto the barrier now darlin', please!"

But she shook her head fiercely. "You're lying to me."

"Look at me Sharon-" Dennis said sternly, demanding her attention as treacherous tears stained his face too. "-keep looking at me alright... I swear I'm not lying. I'm not. But nothing you want for... for us can happen unless you climb over now!"

With nothing to be heard besides the sound of Sharon still struggling to breathe as she cried, she climbed over the barrier. Dennis' hand, wrenched with sweat still held hers as if he never dared to let her go, darting eyes taking in the fear in her feverish face. With no thought, only need, he pulled her tight into his arms, grateful tears welling in his eyes even as his lover sobbed still, clinging desperately to him.

"I'm so scared, Dennis."

"No darlin', not you. You're alright."

Sharon spluttered through her next explosion of misery, finding that instead she managed a lukewarm laugh.

"I didn't mean to scare, I'm sorry."

"Hey shhh." he soothed, rocking her against his own wrecked body. "You're with me now..."

Thursday 30th October 2003

8:50 am

Den Watts sat in the dark lounge. It had been dark for a few days now and the man had barely moved. The curtains had remained closed, blocking out the world outside. Without his Princess within the safety of these walls, there was no world outside. There was no life, only existence. His bloodshot eyes itched with sleep he silently refused to adhere to. The only movement he made was towards the kitchen to make endless cups of tasteless coffee that he only forced himself to drink so he would not sleep. How could he dare when Sharon...? Oh Sharon.

Today was a week without her and he knew nothing. A failure as her father and so much less of a man. He was pitiful, shattered without her. His daughters were his world and yet, Vicki was barely reachable. She'd spent the first few days running around the Square helping the police, making sure that everyone was aware of Sharon's disappearance. Oh, concern was sky high within the community, but what use was it when it hadn't bought her home? Her image covered the walls of the abandoned Angie's Den, copious posters pleading for information.

Nobody seemed to have any. Den had spent a few hours, back when he still possessed the energy to leave this prison, stood in front of the club, casting his eye over the dozens of smiling Sharons that looked back at him from every wrinkled, rain-splattered flyer, wondering if his Princess still smiled.

He had so been fighting the urge to march to the Imperial Rooms and do anything it took to get his daughter back. But the police had informed him that the Imperial Rooms themselves were no longer in operation and that they were doing "everything we can", which Den was fast beginning to believe meant absolutely nothing at all was being done to bring his daughter home. All hope had left him remarkably quickly, and so, here he had sat, in the dark miserable silence, waiting for the phone to ring just one more time and find Sharon on the other end.

Silent tears marked his skin. Emotionless for all his miserable years on this planet, his Proncess the only being to make it all worthwhile. He was broken without her, and weak enough now that Dalton's next shot would be the only one he needed. No leaping out of his grave this time. Not Den. There was nothing left. Because he barely knew what Jack wanted. Did he truly want Den's head on a platter, or did he want to destroy him by taking Sharon... harming her? Because oh, Den was ready to make the first incision in his own wrung neck if only Sharon could come home. 

Jack was obviously no fool. Father and daughter had had next to no time together at all after so long without one another and now all there was to do was suffer a little bit more in their next, dangerous separation. 

The only thing that kept Den from spiralling into the vortex of his misery was the rattling of the letter box. He sat up like an alert puppy, the caffeine from those many dozens of coffees throughout the night suddenly swimming through his tired brain cells. Letters hit the mat and then... a firm rapping on the door. Sighing heavily, Den dragged himself up, already deciding that if Vicki had been ordering cosmetics online again and that was all that had caused him to interrupt his lonely vigil, then he was going to get somewhere close to throttling her today.

The postman looked sombre - nobody was unaware of the plight being suffered by this household anymore. The poor man almost looked apologetic when all he had to hand over was the gas bill. He handed a small, flat package to Den, who hurriedly scribbled his signature to accept it and slammed the door without another word. He did not recognise the handwriting inked on the padded envelope, but it was one hell of a scrawl.

He turned it over, pulling viciously at the seal, and many square cards emptied out onto the hallway carpet.

"Damnit!" Denn cursed hotly, stopping short of stamping his foot in frustration. He stooped to pick them all up, only then noticing the gloss. Photographs.

And not just any old photographs either. Den's stomach jolted as he recognised those tired eyes, the messed mane of blonde hair.

Sharon.

But relief did not have time to flood through Den as he might have hoped. Because in his next difficult breath, he registered what exactly glared up at him. Ugly dark marks. Bruises. So many bruises. Weeping cuts, everywhere. Anger swirled like a storm inside him as he tore through the rest of the sickening images. His beautiful Princess was a physical wreck, her blackened eyes brimming with tears, her lip fat and bloody, angry red marks all across her arms. And her stomach, oh it looked as though she'd been trampled over by a dozen horses, she was quite literally black and blue.

"I'll kill you." Den seethed in promise to himself as he ripped the envelope open down the seam in search of more, a clue, a ransom, anything! "Whoever you are, I don't care!"

Scrunching the bit of paper he discovered in the envelope into his fist, Den let the envelope itself drop away and unfolded the piece of paper so savagely, it might have ripped in half.

The same untidy scrawl greeted him.

Den,

I refuse to do anymore to your daughter. I can't treat her like Jack wants, I won't.. Sharon's coming back to you whether or not it kills me. It probably will and I know that once you've seen the photos and realise what I did, you won't think I deserve any less. Fair enough, but I need to know she'll get out safely. She's terrified of the idea, but I can't let her stay. You and me both know what happens to the good girls in this world. Come to her yourself, Den, get her away from here and don't ever let her go.

256-262 Clarence Road
Homerton

Whatever you do, don't make yourself known round the front or Sharon has no hope in Hell and that ain't what I want. Wait over the security fences round the back. Just be there!

There was so much Den wanted to think all at once. By this nameless bastard's admission, he was the one to have attacked Sharon so damn violently and Den felt justified in wanting to hunt him down and slaughter him. But at the same time, here he was, apparantly about to go over even Dalton's head to get Sharon home. He knew he should doubt it. The likelihood was that he was being lured into a trap and of course, Sharon was the best kind of bait. Of course she was. Because the authenticity, the sincerity of the words Den held in his hand hardly mattered alongside mentions of his daughter. Homerton, he knew, was just outside Hackney. And he would make it. He would. Trap or not, Dennis Watts was going to get his daughter home.

He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get his car keys from the kitchen. His mouth was dangerously dry and fearful, and his heart was beating so that it might explode from his chest, but oh, how could he care? There was no time for fear. Only Sharon.

His keys in one hand and the note still scrunched in the other like his (or rather Sharon's... oh God, the thought made him walk quicker) life depended on it. He left the house as quietly as he could, needing desperately to be unheard by his daughter. This was a danger he would not allow her to face.

Climbing into his face, he settled back determinedly and read the note again. And again.

Sharon's coming back to you whether or not it kills me.

Den's hands shook violently as he leant forward, jamming the key into the igniton, the engine roaring obediently into life. He was quite sure he had never heard a sweeter sound.

The bastard stranger in the letter had a point though. Den couldn't care if this was all going to end some nameless psycho's life and if he did not doubt them so much, he might have appreciated the words. Because they were true. It could kill Den too and he would barely care.

So long as his Princess made it home, Jack Dalton could take what he wanted of what little remained of the once mighty Dennis Watts.

But never his daughter.

Your dad's coming for you now, Princess. Hold on my darlin'. I'm on my way.

Thursday 30th October 2003

10:20 am

Dennis found he had been shaking uneasily from the moment he had woken up. Not that he'd really slept. From the moment he had managed to convince Sharon to climb alone into her own bed, careful to make no promises. He'd tried his hardest to ignore the fright in her still teary eyes, hating how cold it must have seemed for him to have left the room. But he'd had to. How else would he find the will to refuse those eyes, the unspoken plea for him to stay? He didn't wanna have to believe he was a dead man any sooner than was necessary. He'd gone back to the roof and willed the miserable night away in a chain of several dozen cigarettes that made him gag as they dried out his throat and left him with a foul taste choking him.

And even now, it was barely gone. But how could it be? He had been with Jack all morning, trying to suppress how much he hated the man he had once so stupidly idolised. He stood stock still in the stuffy, dank office, like always, barely moving, barely daring even as he was spoken to. Just the delighted hiss that left that poisonous mouth made Dennis' skin crawl, but he forced himself to keep calm. With plans like his today, he couldn't afford to make anyone suspicious. It was easiest to keep his hands stuffed safely in his pocket and just be normal - as normal as any existence lived in Jack Dalton's shadow could be.

"Big day today, Dennis." Jack boomed brightly, shifting through "the books". Jack's books weren't normal. There was nothing that delighted him more than totting up how many thousands the poor souls out there owed him. He was a firm believer in every debt being paid, all currencies accepted, right down to life.

"Yeah? How come?"

Jack just levelled his head and let that sickening smile curve his lip, barely settled when there came a firm knock at the door.

"You wait and see." he answered firmly before turning his head to direct his voice towards the other side of the door. "Come in. Shut the door."

Dennis hardly needed to watch. He wanted to look away and would have been halfway successful if he wasn't already well aware who was due to walk through the door. Alex had been sent up, almost without spoken instruction, to wake Sharon quarter of an hour ago, to stand over her while she made herself presentable if needs had been. Dennis had been unable to say a word, but didn't believe privately that she was still asleep. And that wasn't a good feeling because he knew that she would have barely closed her eyes for worry and for sheer panic, too terrified by all that this day should bring and should not.

"Boss." Alex said smoothly, shadows cast over his immaculate form as he drew the door open and stepped into the room. He stood aside for Sharon, her lips budded as she walked calmly into the room and stood in front of the desk, her hands laced like a child called to the headteacher's office. She couldn't fight the overwhelming urge to look towards Dennis, but he foresaw it and turned away, occupying himself at the drinks cabinet.

Sharon forced herself to swallow down her hurt, understanding why he had responded so. She took in a deep, soundless breath and looked right at Jack, repulsed to do just that, but at least she wasn't weakened.

"Jack."

Jack sat up straight, lacing his chubby hands together and looking Sharon appreciatively up and down. Sharon kept her eyes fixed on a bare spot on the wall behind him, flinching only as Dennis slammed down the decanter of whiskey a lot harder than he might have meant to.

"Sit." Jack stated, gesturing towards the chair and only just managing to compose his face into some misguided interpretation of pleasantness after the warning scowl he had reserved for Dennis' heavy handedness.

Sharon dutifully sank back into the squashy chair, feeeling herself begin to shake slightly, her mouth dangerously dry. What was Dennis doing down here? She was worried about him. Really worried. Had it all changed? Was he planning to let her know?

It didn't seem so. But then, as he came round the edge of the desk, the glass of whiskey in his hand, his gaze on her felt the strangest thing in the world. It was like he was a different man, more callous somehow. And Sharon hated such uncertainty, preferring instead to keep her eyes in her lap.

"Take it." Dennis advised bluntly, forcing the glass into her unwilling hand before stepping back into the safety of the shadows, just waiting... listening... panicking.

"Must be hard for you." Jack announced with a heavy sigh. "This time of year."

Sharon blinked back at him, unwilling to speak.

"How long has it been now?"

Sharon scowled, pursing her lips unfavourably. "Since he died you mean? A year. I'd have thought even you could remember that far back, Jack."

He chuckled dryly in response. Dennis on the other hand, was utterly motionless, stunned - and still trying his damnedest not to look at Sharon.

"Your fiancé wasn't he? This Banks fella?"

The second tumbler almost slipped from Dennis' increasingly clammy hand. He turned round slowly, his narrowed eyes scrutinising Sharon.

"You were engaged?"

"Hardly." Sharon muttered bitterly, totally unnerved by Dennis' expression. He looked.... jealous. "He... died the night we decided on it."

"Mmmm, impressive it was, Dennis. Right hero, this Thomas. Rushes in to a burning building, rescues one of the Slater lasses, y'know, the one that sounds like a mouse, lived in the corner cowering from her husband. Scottish, fiery temper... and a baby. His apparantly."

"I wouldn't call him a hero." Sharon cut in, well aware of the darkness sweeping over Dennis' face as he listened.

"What would you call him then?"

"Dead. No more, no less."

"Wow. You've got a nice opinion of the bloke you wanted to marry, ain't ya?"

Sharon shrugged. "What use is my opinion? He's dead, Dennis, that's it. He didn't have to go into that house, he didn't have to be a hero. But the bastard went looking for his end when I wanted to give him the-" She stopped speaking abruptly, slumping moodily back against the chair as she fumbled anxiously with her hands. "Oh whatever. It's not like he ever gave me the chance." She glared across at Jack. "This what you wanted then? To drag me over all this, to make me feel like absolute-"

Jack raised his hand to silence her. "I was just saying."

"Well don't alright? Have you ever lost someone, Jack? Someone you thought mattered? Cos it's hard. It's so damn hard. And you forced that on me remember? You took my Dad away from me!"

"And I've already told you!" he said sharply, those small piercing eyes looking even more icy than usual. "It weren't nothing personal, but prices need to be-"

"Don't you dare!" she yelled furiously. "I'm paying your fuckin' price right now Jack, you know I am! Or did you want a closer look?"

Dennis bit desperately into his lip as Sharon shoved the chair back and leapt up, wrenching her top away from her battered flesh to showcase the ugly coloured marks all across that bore his name.

"Tell me what I did, Jack, cos I'm dying to know! What did my dad ever do? This... It's not his fault is it? It's you, getting the hump because you couldn't make sure you killed him in the first place. You hate him so much because he's here, walking round, letting the world know what a failure you are!"

"Enough!" Jack spat furiously, his temple pulsing like it might burst free of his head.

Unsurprisingly enough, Dennis found himself readily agreeing and hastily moving to stand behind Sharon and do whatever he might have had to to stop her endangering herself in these last few hours. He wanted to get her out. But Sharon had seen his approach and flung him warningly away.

"No! No, it's not! You make me so... who the Hell do you think you are? Wrecking lives... killing? You know what, I just can't take the suspense. Tell me what's gonna happen Jack! You gonna pick off everyone that matters to me, to score points? Because if you knew what it was like... like to lose someone... to love someone and then... lose 'em, then you'd wanna be dead too, y'know that?"

She was suddenly aware of a nervous Dennis stepping away, without the nerve to stand and listen to her words. But her gaze found him, tearful and lingering. He tried to pretend he felt nothing, but she might as well have had a blade in her hand, plunging it into him again and again. Her words were for him - and he had nowhere to hide. "Because there's nothing! Nothing! And I just... I just don't understand why you wanna destroy me, Jack... what did I do? I never asked to be... part of this world. I never.. just, please... don't... don't do this again, not to me!"

10:30 am

Jack was completely unmoved by Sharon's emotional state. Not even a flicker of recognition went across his cold face. He simply turned and suggested to Dennis that he ought to take her back upstairs. Sharon scowled and wiped furiously at her streaming eyes, rushing from the room without waiting for Dennis' approach. Dennis bit anxiously into his lip and moved quickly to follow her, but found himself colliding with Alex, who was loitering in the foyer, just outside the office door.

"She didn't look all that happy, did she eh?"

"Stay away from her, alright?"

Alex smiled tightly. "Like you have, you mean?"

Dennis bristled, not saying a word. He didn't trust himself to. This seemed to please Alex, whose thin lips twisted into a sickening smile of satisfaction.

"Oh yeah, we all know about that. Can't say I blame you but... not good for your prospects is she? Boss man ain't happy."

He shrugged nonchalantly, feeling the repulsion wrench his gut. He hated how there seemed to be a long line of these cold, idiotic men, of which Dennis knew he had been one, to step up whenever one was displaced. Dennis had no idea or care as to whether Pierre was dead or alive. But either way, he obviously hadn't struck soon enough. Pierre had obviously feared his own situation enough to sell Dennis in his own precarious place. Dennis himself couldn't have expected anything less. He'd known for too long the mechanics of men who lived in this world. And he too had been out for himself alone for such a long time. But now there was Sharon. Now there was a reason to care that Jack Dalton was to seek retribrution with Dennis' own life.

"What you saying, Al? C'mon, I can tell you're dying to spell it out to me."

Alex smirked. "Watch your back, that's all. We'd hate for anything to uh... happen, wouldn't we?"

Dennis glared at him and stormed off in the direction that Sharon had rushed, his heart beating so fast that his every shallow breath was like a blade in his throat, so painfully difficult to swallow down.

He'd heard the threat in Alex's gleeful words and yes, he was fearful. How long did he have then? Could he really do it, was there enough time to make sure Sharon was gone before they came for him?

He caught up with Sharon sooner than he hoped he might. She was backed up in the corner of the stairwell, crying quietly as she stood there, the miserable diamonds caught in the dim light that dared to illuminate her face. Dennis looked guiltily down, hardly knowing if he dared to shuffle forward. He stood beside her and she turned away, her arms wound protectively across her heaving chest.

"Leave me alone." she demanded coldly as she sniffled.

"You really think I can do that?"

"I never know what you're gonna do, Dennis. I would say that's part of the attraction but... you haven't really changed have you? You're still... cruel."

"I... I didn't mean to say that stuff."

Stormy eyes narrowed, Sharon turned her head and glowered at him. "Yes you did. You spoke to me as though... Tom's dead, Dennis, and you're there, talking about him like... it broke my heart to lose him you know! It was like someone tore me in half just to spite me! Yeah, I thought I'd lost my dad and I hate Jack for that, but Tom was different. He was a friend... a-"

"Lover." Dennis finished awkwardly, gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

"Yeah. It... It was my choice to feel anything for him and- he was dying of a brain tumour, did you know that?"

He blinked shamefully in response and mumbled; "Didn't know anything, did I?"

Sharon smiled weakly, not quite able to look Dennis in the eye. "The point is, I stood to lose him to something that wasn't his fault. But he... he went into the house, knowing it was burning to the ground, and he chose to leave me stood there, leave me on my own. And I'm not so sure you're not about to do the same."

Dennis laughed bitterly. "At least he died a hero."

"I told you, I've never thought he was a hero. I hate him most days... for leaving me when we had the time to be together."

"Yeah, alright. But at least you knew he was good for you. The comparison ain't all that."

Her eyes clouded with sadness as she looked at him. "I don't care about comparisons. Why... Why do you find it so hard to believe I feel something for you too? What, you think I should still be grieving, staying faithful to the memory of a man selfish enough to leave me, never moving on?"

"I'd say I'm more a step backwards."

"No. No, that's not true."

"What do you know, Sharon, really?"

She nodded slowly as she bit hard into her lip to keep her welling tears from falling so treacherously. She had to stand there and accept Dennis' guarded ways. But all she had for him in return was painful honesty.

"I know I'm scared. I'm scared for you."

Dennis flinched and it did not go unnoticed.

"Dennis? Please, what's..."

He turned in to face her as she pleaded with him, but he looked out over her head, feeling an upsurge of emotion quivering in his throat. "Just... be ready OK?" He bit hard into his lip as it began to quiver. He refocussed instead on Sharon's face, shimmering with fresh tears, somehow understanding the nothingness of his words. He smiled fleetingly, his fear settled momentarily by her sheer closeness. His hands quivering, he raised them to her face, stroking tenderly down her dampened cheeks as he drew her closer, his lips brushing hers to bestow the softest and most anxious of lingering kisses.

And the new understanding that Sharon derived from his sweet taste made her shake dangerously, almost losing her balance as she fought to straighten up and hold her own weight.

"He knows, doesn't he?"

"Yeah." Dennis answered, releasing a shallow breath. "He knows. So I'm guessing I didn't do Pierre all that much damage. Know I'd like to but... we'll go soon OK?"

Sharon nodded jerkily, feeling a lump swell in her throat as she looked up at him. He did not know his worth because he refused to believe it. But at least he seemed to understand that Sharon refused to go without him... why. Tom may well have been the last man Sharon had dared to confess she loved, but he was the very last thing she wanted Dennis to be. He was himself, and that was enough.

"In fact..." he mumbled breathily, lazily casing Sharon's hand and gazing up the staircase. He pulled her forward a little, and he smiled apologetically as she stumbled, not understanding this movement. "...come with me a second."

Sharon stayed still, staring at him in wonderment for a few seconds, before twisting her hand in his and forcing his second to drop away so that she might lock her fingers lovingly through one and follow him up the staircase as he held on.

They walked out onto the roof together. Sharon recoiled a little in horror, not quite recovered from the desperations she had felt the previous night when she had climbed over the barrier and seriously contemplated the saddest of endings. But Dennis stepped close, assuring her; "It's OK. It's OK, I'm here... nothing's gonna happen-"

"What are we-?"

Dennis walked to the edge, Sharon's by now clammy hand quaking in his.He leant forward a little, critically scanning the surroundings. Sharon did not understand what he was apparantly able to see that she could not. But whatever it was had settled him as he straightened up, announcing calmly; "We have to go now."

"Now?"

"Now."

"But-"

"No." he told her firmly, pulling on her hand to lead her back towards the stairwell. "Now, Sharon. Trust me, OK?"

"I do. I-"

"So c'mon!" he pushed, sounding a little more desperate this time. Nerves were starting to swirl rather dangerously inside of Sharon. She could barely grip the banister as they began to go back down the stairs. Dennis had dropped down a step in front, gripping her hand fiercely. He was trying to protect her, suspicious on every movement of light on the wall, every sound he appeared to hear that was not his or Sharon's responsibility. His mouth had dried out so much he was barely breathing. He just concentrated on clutching Sharon's hand. This one innocent touch was so much to him right now. He didn't even know himself anymore. That wasn't a bad thing but, oh... if Alex was right, and Dennis had no doubt he was - there had been plenty to suggest in Jack's overly relaxed manner, as if he enjoyed toying with Dennis - then Sharon... she could only be safe on the other side of these callous, unforgiving walls.

He turned to her as she came down the last of the steps and pushed her gently against the wall.

"It's gonna be alright, you know that?"

"Yeah." Sharon murmured softly in reply, caressing his feverish face. "I know that. I'll be with you, won't I?"

Dennis felt the most alien sensation burn through him, but knew what it was instantly, if only because he had never known it before, never known anyone quite like Sharon before. Love. At its most fierce intensity too. And he didn't understand it, all he knew was that he loved the way it felt, even though his was probably the most undeserving soul ever known to such an emotion. Perhaps it was best he'd only feel it for a minimal duration.

"Yeah." he replied breathlessly, with little conviction for his own sincerity. 

But Sharon hadn't noticed that, smiling her first true smile in all the time Dennis had known her, and at the moment, that felt like the most painful lifetime. It was eased a little only as Sharon gave into her only urge and kissed him fiercely. He couldn't refuse her, wishing he could make it last forever, terrified he'd forget her taste before she was even gone from his sight. But at least he was assured that the parcel had reached the Watts' house in all entirety - Den was waiting.

And it was that thought that made Dennis break away, half a smile upon his lips. "OK, OK... we have to go. One thing... you can't look back alright?"

Sharon laughed nervously as she held his hand. "What are you expecting?"

But he was not amused, worryingly anxious. "Promise me!"

"I promise. So long as you don't let go."

Dennis smiled weakly, offering no words to secure his agreement. He moved round in the limited space and stepped out onto the tarmac first, holding open the door to lead Sharon out into her freedom. He could not taste his own. He knew it wasn't really there, it wasn't really waiting. But still he held her hand, gratified to hear her heels clicking against the tarmac.

He waited, counting beneath his breath.

"Princess!"

And finally, at ten, Dennis could breathe.

Sharon froze, her hand beginning to shake desperately in Dennis'. Going against all she had asked of him, he let it drop, and watched as she stumbled blindly to the bleak fences, craning her neck to catch sight of her father.

"Dad? Dad!"

She half screamed as the fence rattled dangerously, crashing and banging, assuring her of a presence on the other side.

"Dad? Dad, is that-"

"Princess, are you alright, are you..."

Sharon rushed forward and tried to assist with the movement of the fence to permit any kind of exit. Dennis could almost smile as he watched their efforts, well aware it could be done, because he'd removed the hefty lock on the entrance gate himself.

But that wasn't all that was left to occupy him in the next few moments. The nerves and anxiety that had been squirming on the floor of his stomach these last few days finally found true cause for their being as he felt the well known shape of a barrel of a gun against his neck, a hefty hand on his shoulder, wordlessly demanding his silence.

He laughed soundlessly, straightening up defiantly. "Hello Alex."

"You wanna draw attention to yourself Rickman? Or we gonna do this quietly?"

"You gonna leave her?"

"Ah, you're the man, Dennis."

Smiling sarcastically, Dennis hit back. "Then I'm all yours."

"Glad to hear it." 

Dennis began to walk, but Alex jabbed the barrel sharply into his neck and steered him around again. "Not so fast, Romeo. Don't you wanna say goodbye?"

"No."

"Well you're gonna."

10:50 am  

Sharon could feel the hope draining from her. She was practically scrabbling at the gate now and what use was that? It simply wasn't moving. Her heart was pounding so painfully in her chest that she could have doubled over with the agony. Hearing her dad call her name so feverishly was all that kept her up. She'd been wrong, he was here... for her... he loved her just as much as ever and in return, she loved him so much more she...

"Sharon!"

She flinched as she heard an alien voice call her name. She whirled round in ready acuusation, her sharp breaths painfully shallow in her throat, rising up from a dangerously tight chest. All she saw at first was Dennis, looking worryingly ashen, biting hard into his lip. She knew he hadn't said a word. And, craning her neck in panic, the sound of Den continually bashing and thundering at the gate to move it was lost to her. She saw the barrel pressed firmly into the base of Dennis' neck, the hand that held the gun so steadily. And she went cold as she stumbled forward, knowing only that she needed to be with him. She'd do whatever. She was not about to leave here alone.

But as she rushed a pace forward, Dennis felt the barrel leave his clammy flesh in one furious swipe, Alex instantly edgy, swinging his arm out threateningly in Sharon's direction. She leapt back, her eyes wide with fright, and Dennis quickly swang round to guard Sharon's shuddering body with his own. Sharon watched, frozen by her fear, somehow not understanding why Dennis hadn't struck out and disarmed Alex.

Dennis himself knew well why. There was no point. Yes, he could do it, and he could follow Sharon wherever she chose to go now, but he'd be found and he knew it. Hunted down like an animal and brought back to this eventuality anyway. He knew, however much it frightened him, that it was better to face it now and know that she was gone.

"No way, Al." he hissed warningly. "It isn't her you want."

Alex laughed tauntingly. "How would you know eh? Maybe we all want some of what you've had. We both know Jack does."

"Yeah." Dennis replied awkwardly, quickly licking his dried out lips. "And I'm the one that's gonna pay for that, right? Not her."

"Takes two doesn't it?"

"Most things do mate, I'm surprised you're out here on your own really. Tell Jack you could handle me did ya? I'm impressed."

Sharon's throat was dry as she stood, almost cowering behind Dennis' given protection. She wanted to speak whilst having no idea what she might say. Her mind was shattered and her heart...

But Dennis stole away the need for her words, turning his head and directing his words calmly towards Sharon. "Go with your dad now OK?"

"What? No!"

"He's waiting Sharon." Alex told her forcefully.

She bit hard into her lips to keep back the threat of tears that spilled from her eyes anyway. "Dennis?" she whispered.

She did not miss the way his voice swayed under the burden of emotion he was fighting to lkeep down, to never know.

"Nothing to stay for anymore, darlin'."

Sharon faltered as she stepped back. She didn't want to leave him.

"You heard him." Alex sneered as he recognised her hesitation. To hurry her along, he jabbed the barrel of the gun back into the base of Dennis' neck. He flinched and pulled in a deep breath.

"Don't make her watch this, Al, please."

"I'm not making her do anything. I coulda blown her brains out by now if I wanted Rickman, but have I? She's trying my patience though. Twenty seconds or she'll get it all in slow-mo. Understood?"

Oh, he understood all right, his heart thumping away so fast and so damn painfully, he wasn't quite sure it existed in his chest anymore.

"Go Sharon, please!"

Eyes brimming, Sharon shook her head. And Alex was not in the mood.

"One! Two!"

Dennis closed his eyes, feeling the raging panic surround him. She wasn't listening. She was in just as much danger. But then he heard two blissful sounds. One was the terrified whimper to leave her at the sound of Alex's voice, the clicking of his finger sliding comfortably against the trigger. And two was the scurrying and scraping that Dennis could only associate with Sharon stumbling away towards the gate. He allowed himself half a breath, wishing more for a whole one, but being forced to stop as a wail reverberated through the still air.

"Don't. Please don't, I'll... just please..."

"Princess!"

And with a force that threatened to defen the whole city, Dennis watched, rigid as the unmistakable Den Watts finally tore through the gate. The effort looked as though it had taken all he had. He looked a little stunned to have come through his stubborn obstacle, but to catch sight of his daughter...

Dennis knew in the moment that Den flew at his daughter, even for her slightly dishevelled state and tear-stained face, that for her, it was going to be OK. And that was all he needed. Grateful tears poured from Den's tired and aged eyes as his arms surround Sharon like he might squeeze every last breath of life out of her. She was rigid against him, not quite knowing how to react to the embrace she had begun to believe she would never again find herself in. Relief pounded through her but at the same time it did not, because her father's closeness did not guarantee Dennis' safety. She felt sick.

"Are you... did they... Sharon, please, speak to me."

Den was in a frenzy, his hands sweeping up and down his tremoring daughter's form, just to feel her there. He barely gave her time to speak, his need for instant assurances too great. She watched him in sheer bewilderment, as if she was confused by him, did not know him. She backed slowly away, picking up speed as she became more confident in her steps. Den's brow furrowed as he tried to draw her close again, but she shook her head tearfully in confusion, turned and raced back to Dennis.

"What the-?" Den murmured, taking in the scene, the anger, the gun pressed into the neck of the young guy Sharon raced so certainly to.

"Get her out of here!" Alex roared, feeling threatened by her speed. "Get her out or I'll do it right here, right now! I mean it - I'll blow his brains out!"

Sharon collapsed in tears about a pace and a half from Dennis, who could barely look at her as she sobbed there on the ground, heeding the warning.

"Princess?" Den asked cautiously, reaching down and placing a hand comfortingly on his daughter's shoulder, his unforgiving eyes never leaving Dennis, who whitened lips were thin as he tried to look defiantly back, prove to him that he was unafraid, even with the threat of Alex behind him. "Who is he?"

"I'm the one who wrote the note Den, yeah that's me."

Den's face was instantly thunderous, his eyes ablaze with fury. "You. You did that to my daughter?"

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Den swallowed down the willingness of every thing he'd like to have done to maim this sick bastard's life, gratified to realise he was talking to a man deserving of the gun pressed to his neck. Besides, Sharon had begun to howl even louder on the ground even just at the way Den had spoken. He didn't want to make anything worse for her, he just wanted to take her home. "Well, seems to me you're about to get yours." Tilting his head, he smiled across at Alex. "Don't think you have to hold back will you pal?"

Den's whisper of an encouraging smile sickened Sharon as she slowly looked up, realising that her father was too furious with everyone around to realise the truth of it.

But that didn't seem to bother Dennis at all.

"Just take her home Den OK? Keep her safe."

"Oh, I don't think I need any pointers from you! Enjoy won't you?"

Dennis offered a tight, sarcastic smile.

Den turned away and tried to reach down to lift Sharon into his arms and help her to her feet. But sullenly, she resisted, fighting him off with all her remaining energy. Unfortunately, there wasn't much of it to overcome.

"C'mon on Princess, up you come, your dad's here now."

"No! Get off me! Daddy, no!"

"Shhh, shhh.... I'm gonna take care of you now. It's going to be alright."

Relieved to hear the words leave another mouth with so much more truth to them than Dennis could ever have given, he felt himself nod in agreement as he watched, Sharon fighting Den's assistance all the way as tears poured down, dragging her reluctant feet across the unforgiving tarmac.

"No, I can't- Dad, please, no!"

She fought and she writhed and struggled. Den was having to pull along she had put up so much resistance. His arms were like ropes around her drained body, but still she twisted round, her tearful eyes searching out Dennis. Looking back. Oh he hated it, he wished she hadn't. Because this, it was the last time, and all he would know now was Sharon, screaming out his name so desperately.

"Dennis! No! Dennis! Please Daddy, please... I can't... he... DENNIS!"

All that waited was the end. 

11:10 am 

Curled up on the passenger seat of Den's car, Sharon had not stopped crying. In fact she sobbed to a ferocity that threatened to tear her pained chest open, but she barely noticed. She had writhed and fought, screaming out Dennis' name desperately until the image of him was physically gone from her view. It was still there though, right in front of her, even as she scrunched her unwilling eyes tight shut to stem the tears pulsing from her eyes. She could see him and she feared for him. She felt sick down to her stomach, and yet Den seemed determined not to notice how broken she was. He concentrated on keeping his foot firmly on the accelerator, wanting to get his daughter as far away from all these dangers as quickly as he could.

And all Sharon wanted was to go back. She could do nothing but would have done everything, just to know he was OK. Was he? Was Alex's finger still on the trigger, had he pulled it? Was Dennis... on the floor, bleeding, waiting for the last of his wasted life to leave him? Oh God, he couldn't die alone. There was nothing... nothing more hideous. And Sharon, she was terrified, even to be away from him. She'd meant it when she'd said he made her feel safe. Her Dad had been able to do that before such times, but now, she barely trusted him. Why couldn't he see how desperate she was?

"Dad... please!"

"Shhh, we'll be home soon. I'll fix you a nice stiff drink and... you can get in a hot bath..."

"Shut up!" she screamed furiously. "Stop trying to make everything normal! It isn't... it'll never..."

Den blinked, obviouslu doing a fantastic job of ignoring the words coming from his daughter's mouth that he couldn't bear to hear. "Oh, Princess, Vicki's gonna be... so..."

"Look at me, Dad! Look at me!"

But he couldn't bear to, his face drained of colour as he concentrated on the road ahead. He swallowed down an uneasy breath and spoke more to assure himself than Sharon. "And that scumbag will het what's coming to him, don't you worry?"

"Worry?! He's not-! I left him to die back there! You made me leave him!"

"I need you to be safe!" Den replied testily.

"He made me safe! And you dragged me away from him when he needed me! They're gonna kill him Dad, can't you tell he needed me?"

"What was I supposed to do? Leave you there to get shot to pieces too?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"No!"

Sharon's responding breaths were dangerously shallow and she shook more and more violently as she struggled to bring them in. Hating how she saw absolutely no understanding in her father's lined but once kind face, she was drawn further and further into a panic attack. Her mind reeled and throbbed with desperation as she sobbed.

"I won't ever forgive you. I won't! Stop! Stop now!"

Panicked, Den watched the way Sharon threw her gaze anxiously around. He saw how she threw her weight furiously forward, but he could never have forseen the way she grabbed the steering wheel, jerking it out of Den's grasp, taking frenzied control herself as she screamed again;

"Stop!"

"What the-?!"

Shaking desperately, Den lurched, adrenaline pulsing through him and, thinking of only how he needed to save his Princess, to keep her safe and give her back her normal life, to forget every horror she might have suffered, the every hideous idea that had kept him awake for all these sleepless, terrifying nights and he managed to straighten out the car, thankfully shoving a by now howling Sharon hard against the passenger side. 

"He told you... he told you he was bringing me home! He was gonna keep me safe!"

"Did you... Did you believe that?"

"Yes! You know nothing!"

Den eased off the accelerator guiltily, pulling up into a side street that, with a defeated sniffle as the tears kept coming down like waterfalls, Sharon recognised. She almost wanted to smile. But to be here again, she could almost feel the pain of all the wounds that had become part of her before her last visit here, and through her blurry eyes, she could still see Dennis slumped against the wall, choking and retching. But at least then there had been breath in his body, and now...

Den sighed desperately as he wriggled over onto his hip, biting into his lip guiltily as he gazed over at his distraught daughter.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"What's the point?" she snapped miserably, head hanging so that her gaze did not leave her lap. "You're only gonna see what you want. You're never going to understand."

He nodded begrudgingly. "No. Because I'll never understand what goes on in Jack Dalton's head.... how he goes for revenge. And those brainless violent-"

Sharon shuddered. "No! They coulda kiled me Dad, but they... they never touched me!"

"So why are you black and blue? Why have I got the photos to prove. Something went on Sharon, something."

She wanted so much to scream out how had it had been, but couldn't bear how she knew Den would look at her having heard the truth. He'd roll his eyes, dismiss her, even in his relief to have her back. He'd never be prepared to believe it. And Dennis was still somewhere, maybe not more than a body anymore. Oh God...

Sharon wanted to sob more than ever, but found that her body could not comply. Her eyes were stiff, sore and dry. And she was cold and shivering. She had no tears. Nothing. She was numb. And she needed desperately to be awoken again.

"I want a cigarette." she mumbled thickly.

"What?"

"I want a cigarette. I want five, I want ten, I want the whole sodding packet! I want a cigarette! There's a shop on the other side of the street."

Den didn't move. His Princess hadn't touched cigarettes to his knowledge since she was 15 years old, when he'd caught her taking sneaky tokes off one out the bathroom window with Chelle, swinging her legs back and forth against the sink. And he'd always thought the rollicking he'd give her for it has put her off for good. But then, he reasoned, she was in terrible shock. But there was that paternal niggle that refused to leave him.

"I'm not leaving you Princess. Not ever again."

Sharon scowled, sickened just to look upon such a hypocrite.

"How fuckin' dare you! Dennis is dying back there because of you! A cigarette's the least I deserve wouldn't you say?" Den cast his eyes down and Sharon scoffed, adding dangerously; "If you don't go, I will!"

He sighed heavily, lifting his palms from against the steering wheel in defeat as he shifted to pull himself out of the car. "Alright, alright! I'll go. Across the street you say?"

Sharon sat back in relief, allowing that tight note of a breath to leave her as she nodded jerkily. "Mmmm. Round the corner."

"Don't move!" Den said forcefully as he slammed the door. Sharon complied, sure she'd seen terror in his eyes. But it didn't reach her. Her heart pounded painfully against her aching ribs and she felt nothing for her father. She didn't believe him. She believed nothing of him anymore. He held himself so stiffly, anyone could see he was terrified, only walking on because he saw Sharon watching him so fiercely through her narrowed, watery eyes, daring him to refuse her when she might never have been with him again. Of course, he could not do that, regretfully slipping from her view as he rounded the corner out of this little side street and back into civilisation.

Sharon became calmer with every step that separated them. She still shook so terribly violently that she was amazed she hadn't been sick. But with every step Den took so reluctantly away from her, her resolve returned and as he turned from her sight, she was more determined than ever, an ugly smile fighting to twist her quivering lips against the force of her misery.

Easing her high heeled shoes from her burning feet, protesting with pain, she tucked them neatly in the footwell and pushed, through her shoulder, against the door, standing up and taking her very first sobering breath as her bare feet touched the rough tarmac. She flinched at the impact of the passenger door closing, but pulled herself together quickly. She was liberated. Free to make her own choices.

And she chose, with no regard for the pain she suffered to turn and run back the way she had come. To not stop until she knew.

Was he dead or alive? 

11:25 am

With so many thoughts crowding her agonised mind, there was barely time or energy for just one of them to make sense as she ran. Physically, Sharon felt it, the movement feeling as though her tender sides, marked with the fading bruises she regretfully held to Dennis' credit, splitting open. But emotionally, she knew of, and was focussed on nothing more than pushing herself forward, to racing back the way she had came - to being with him again. 

Her muscles throbbed desperately in protest, but still she went on, the rough ground completely unforgiving on her bare feet. She winced through her brimming tears, but refused to acknowledge why, running still, even as her chest tightened so desperately that she worried she would collapse and be discovered by her soon-to-be frantic father before she was anywhere Dennis again. She barely knew what she was going to do if she did lay eyes on him again. Except perhaps, if she dared to believe she might see him alive, then she considered she'd probably collapse in relieved tears, and stay there, on her knees, ready to say or do anything she might have to to give him the chance at living life in all the ways he never had. 

Dennis was probably right. She knew nothing of him except... he hadn't wanted to live life this way. He'd just known no other way, didn't believe he was worth more. And Sharon, out here alone, only able to hear her own heartbeat pounding away in her ears, she knew different. He was the reason she could have been free. But to know the price he had paid, her conscience would never have been the same. And she couldn't live like that. Not when Dennis would have...

Oh, she felt mad, ridiculous. She'd left the car, so determined just to run, to be free... from her dad, everything he'd do to keep her away from Dennis when he needed her more than he'd ever admit to needing anybody in his life. And she shouldn't have done. She should have taken the car. To keep Den away from them both, to live. But she could barely hold herself upright on her own two feet, she was so sickened and afraid. 

It didn't matter that Dennis was not even three streets away. What mattered was that she'd foolishly entered into a situation where she could not save him. She could only be there through the last of his ordeals. She was going back... knowing that if she was not already too late, she was going back to watch him die. But at least he wouldn't be alone. At least she could say she'd done that for him.

She could barely see a thing as she pounded the potholed pavement, her eyes so narrowed against the bite of the wind, the tears so desperate to fall from her eyes. She crashed heavily through the mercifully unlocked gate and struggled so hard to open her eyes enough to acknowledge her miserable surroundings. There was almost no need. Because although she was terrified down to her writhing, tender stomach, she was relieved to recognise the place. Hate it she might, but as long as there was the hope that Dennis was still here, then... this was where she needed to be.

But to be back within its perimeters, she almost fell off balance through fear, looking so desperately around. Then she saw it, the huge darkened patch glittering as it was absorbed into the tarmac. Nausea rising up from her stomach, she staggered towards it and it glittered all the more, menacing in the weak morning sunlight. She reached, an ache tearing through her abdomen as she pressed her fingertips into the moisture. She bit back a scream as she leapt back, her fingers stained scarlet. The surrounding area was deserted. And Dennis was bleeding somewhere.... perhaps to death - if he was not already gone!

Sharon nearly sobbed as she raced towards the building, feeling the warm, sticky substance cling to the sole of her foot.

"DENNIS!" she screamed, tearing up the fire escape, wincing at the way the rough surface of the metal staircase cut into and snagged at her bare feet. 

But she kept going, her heart beating so furiously, it had almost exploded. She wasn't breathing anymore. She was living off pure adrenaline and terror.

"Jack!"

Of course, there was no-one on the roof, but oh, Sharon stopped, just for one inviting second, so painfully willing to climb over the barrier again and this time, let go, to not care... to enjoy the grace of the fall. To fly like a bird, to know the best of freedom.

But... Dennis!

Sobbing and spluttering on the painful lump that had swelled in her raw throat, Sharon forced herself to turn away, knowing that the entrance onto the roof was the only damn way she was going to get back into the building unnoticed. Not that she would be expected to come back. She was supposed to think nothing of the ways of this world, to be relieved to return home to the normality of her family life.

None of them knew the truth. Oh, Jack knew facts. He didn't know feeling... he'd never know feeling. Especially not Sharon's.

She flew down the stairs across the lobby, falling into Jack's empty office. Had he been sat there, would she have held back, terrified? Or would she have flown at him, wanting to hurt him as much as she had no doubt Dennis himself had been hurt. Was he still here, bleeding his way to death? Or had they... taken him somewhere? That warehouse maybe? The empty, soul destroying place where people had been left to die like animals in the nothingness? Oh, Sharon shuddered, still no closer to answers and still so terrified.

But if he was still here... were would he need to be so that Alex... so that Jack could get away with maiming him in all the ways they believed he deserved before his demise?

Sharon's breathing becoming dangerous shallow and quick once again, she tried to hold back the tears and think! Think! Think! Think!

He wasn't at the top, so... he had to be... at the bottom?

The basement!

Whimpering anxiously, she pushed herself from the room and searched frantically with filling eyes for the stairway down. Catching sight of it, sloping so omniously down, barely noticed for the way it seemed to snake out under the floor, Sharon almost threw herself down, stumbling awkwardly on the bottom on and falling hard against the wall. She groaned as a sharp pain shuddered across her tight chest. But she pulled herself up straight, wishing she wouldn't shake so desperately. She couldn't show how scared she was. She just needed... Dennis.

So she roughly pushed the ready rivers from her eyes and bit into her quivering lip, trying to ignore how painfully sharp her deep breaths were in her unaccommodating chest. Oh God, she was so scared. She'd never approached any situation with such fear and trepidation and she'd known some damn tight spots. But she'd always tried to avoid the miseries of this world and now she couldn't have been more involved with it if she tried. Had she seen the last of her family, of the weak sunlight outside that kidded everyone else that things were OK in this world?

Sharon glanced anxiously back up the darkened, steep stairs, and recoiled as she noticed the dark trails glistening, some sickening beauty about them. A choking sob shook her, but it was only then she felt the wince of pain. Her foot jerked in instinctive response and she looked down with a frightened gasp and saw that blood was gushing from her foot, soaking her toes, sticky and warm. But she took another of those deep, painful breaths and stepped into the basement.

"Jack?" she whispered. "Al-Alex? Please!"

Silence. Darkness. Terror.

And the coppery scent of fresh blood in the air. Sharon's? No. The sheer strength of it around her was making her gag.

"Dennis?"

"Well... well... well... there's someone we weren't expecting."

"Alex?" Sharon called out blindly, mouth dry and heart thumping as she span round in the complete darkness. "Wh-Where are you?"

She felt the tickling of warm yet stale breath against her ear and bit back a scream as she recoiled in repulsion.

"Right here, darlin'."

"Where is he?" she quivered, unable to stop herself sound as though she was pleading. "Please... whatever you're gonna do to him... I have to see him. Please!"

Sharon heard the cruelness in Alex whisper of a laugh. She felt him jerk roughly at her elbow and push her forward. She stumbled, feeling another gush of warm blood caress her toes.

There was more light in this next place. In fact, it seemed desperately overbright. It stung at Sharon's eyes, bright, clinical, neutral. Normal and calm, all but for the pack of four of five men, stood tall in suits, apart from the one short, wide man that was undoubtedly a very eager Jack Dalton, pacing like a pack of lions around a cornered prey. And the stench of blood was so much stronger, Sharon used all her energy in trying not to be sick as she cried, knowing well who the prey was, whose lashing of blood covered the floor.

She tried to cover her mouth with her hand to keep back the sheer loudness of her sobs, but her hand shook too violently to stay against her mouth. Instead, she turned to Alex, terrified and disgusted all at the same time as she demanded in a shattered voice; "What have you done?"

The corner of Alex's lip flickered proudly, stretching up into one of the most repulsive, evil smiles Sharon was ever to know.

"I shot him."

11:25 am

Sharon went cold as she looked at him, so smug and so proud. She shuddered violently in repulsion and an upsurge of the pirest anger allowed her to devote her remaining energy to shoving roughly past him, almost knocking him off balance. Her chest was tight, struggling to breathe as she staggered blindly. "You can't have!" she shivered as the tears rushed down her feverish face. Alex simply stepped into the room beside her, hardly needing words to assure her he had.

She'd drawn the attention of the men stood around their victim, enjoying his downfall. Sharon... she was too late.

Jack moved, almost with a proud swagger, towards Sharon, a forced sigh swelling his already expansive chest. "Sharon!" he called brightly, earning him a venemous look from those devestated eyes. "Back so soon? Only I have it on the best authority that Daddy was out the back waiting for you. Shame you had to go so quickly, could have offered Den a cup of tea, politeness, y'know? We have a lot to catch up on, me and your dad."

"How could you do this Jack?" Sharon demanded in a shattered whisper. "What difference does killing Dennis make to the truth?"

Jack reeled back, his spine looking as if it couldn't take the exertion. But his face was unmoved. If anything, he looked amused. His hairy lip curved into a cold smile, his piggy eyes swerving around his crowd. Many smug smirks looked back at him, so sickeningly willing. Jack's glisteneing face was falsely blank as he turned back to Sharon, his voice soft enough to make her shudder in disbelief and disgust.

"Kill Dennis?" he echoed, his voice slightly higher and staggered. "Oh no, he's alive alright."

A bitter scoff left Sharon's mouth before she was even aware. She simply looked down, aghast. Dennis' blood was soaking through her bare toes. There was so much of it. It made her sick. How... How could he still be alive with so much that was vital missing from him? How did Jack expect her to believe him?

Jack recognised the doubt however and with a swift gesture that was recognised by everyone but Sharon, the men parted, silently, obediently.

"That was just the warning shot!"

And, just like that - there was Dennis. He was slumped on the floor, his clothes were stained by his blood, soaked. And it was still leaving him, oozing through his fingertips as he pressed his hand fierecly to his shoulder, trying to stem the flow from the wound and wincing through the pain. But the way he flinched as they moved away, Sharon knew was nothing to do with the pain, of which she was sure there was plenty. He'd seen her, but something, something she didn't dare to think on had kept his gaze stubbornly from her face.

But even at the sight of him in such a mess, oh the sight was enough to steal her breath in relief. Only now, she was shaking so much, she was ready to be sick, hardly able to whisper his name, even when the need consumed her so much.

"Dennis? Oh God..."

He didn't look up, a distinctively bitter edge to his words, most definitely directed at Sharon and able to make her shiver guiltily, even though she knew, just to see him, she'd done the right thing.

"Couldn't stop yourself could ya? After everything... you had to be here for this... this!"

Tearfully, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the viciousness iof his words. "Dennis, please... just-"

And terrified of the ferocity with which the blood seemed to be leaving him, Sharon tried to reach out and took him. His reaction was a second too late, and she yelped as her hand came to rest over his stained own and the warmth of his oozing blood soaked through her fingertips. Dennis glared at her as he shrugged her roughly off.

"Don't touch me!" His breathing became dangerously ragged. "You don't... need... to... touch me! There ain't nothing to change this! I told ya... this is... the way it is!"

"And I told you I didn't want to leave without you and if that means I don't leave then-"

"Listen to yourself will you?" he yelled desperately. "This is going to happen! This is what you were never supposed to see! This is what you were supposed to turn away from! I tried Sharon, for fuck's sake!"

She blinked slowly to disperse the tears that built so readily in her devestated eyes. Her lip quivered treacherously as she questioned; "How... How could you expect me to do that?"

"Because it hurts OK? It fuckin' hurts. And yeah, OK, I'm getting what's coming, I told ya, I've known that for years. This ain't what you're about. You don't need to feel this too!"

Sharon bit hard down into her lip to steady it and with one swelling breath that it hurt to breathe, she turned bravely back to Jack, whose sneer seemed set on his unfeeling features, his cold eyes looking challengly back at her.

"Jack... he's gonna need someone..."

Jack's smile mocked her as he tilted his head in agreement. "Lucky you found it in your heart to come back then, isn't it, Sharon?"

"I don't mean me!" she argued desperately. "He needs... medical help! What are you planning to do otherwise eh? Leave him to bleed to death with your bullet still inside him? I thought you had more class than that, Jack."

"Oh I have." he assured her silkily, his small eyes flaring as though to silence her. "Why d'you think I didn't have it put straight to his head, have him obliterated? He needs to suffer and that-" he spat, glaring at the wound. "-is a good start!"

"Why d'you need to do this to him, hmmm? He's given you his life and all you've done is screw it over with... evil!"

Jack's hairy lip twitched, the band of muscle behind him looking so much less amused than their boss.  

"Then I guess our Dennis can't be squeaky clean himself can he, Sharon?"

Immediately, Sharon bristled defensively. "I never said he was, did I? But you know what... if you hadn't been so damn keen to get one over on my dad, then you wouldn't be doing this! You wouldn't have to, because Dennis would never-"

Hastily, she bit into her lip. But Jack knew exactly what she had intended to say and his face darkened like storm clouds threatening to break from the sky.

"He'd never have touched you." Jack spat venemously, his voice heightened into a yell as he towered over Dennis. "Those were my orders Dennis and you ignored me! You betrayed me when I trusted you."

Dennis levelled his gaze with a sharp laugh. "You've never trusted anyone, Jack, c'mon! And seeing as I know you're gonna kill me anyway... let me tell ya... she's too good for me. And if she's too good for me when she came back here, blood pouring from her, leaving her precious dad God knows where just to watch ya finish me off, then... she's definitely too good for you. And she is good, Jack, but you're never gonna know are ya? Cos... killing me... it ain't gonna make her want ya any more. Any of ya."

Sharon's stomach lurched, tears slipping from her eyes as she glanced, sniffling at Jack. "Is that what this is gonna take, Jack? Me?"

"Why? You think you can save him?"

"No." she replied honestly, almost heaving as the realisation hit. "I know you're gonna kill him. And I know why too. Because... even though everything you are repulses me, everything you do... Dennis was my choice. A warped one maybe, I'll go with that. But what you really can't stand is that... I gave him everything before you could take it. He told me you would. You still might, I don't know. And I am terrified Jack." she confessed willingly, nodding towards the motionless men stationed ready behind him. "There's six of them and one of me. But... I broke your rules too, so maybe I deserve it yeah? Punish...me... too!"

11:35 am

Silence fell over the gathering. Sharon's mouth dried out instantly. It was hard to bring in her next breath, but even in the face of this threat, she refused to lose her nerve. How could she when she was stood, her lover's blood soaking through the already snagged skin of her bare feet. Jack straightened his strained back, lifting his head defiantly as he stared at her with those cold eyes. His hands fell heavily to his side, and his hairy lip twitched, which made Sharon flinch in repulsion as she watched it curve into a humoured and satisfied smile.

"Gotta admire her nerve, haven't ya, Dennis eh?"

Dennis' attention was stolen from his own wound in little more than disgust. He could not say a word. Many were ready, but oh, the stupid cow was so endangered and he didn't want it to be his fault. Jack recognised this and turned smugly away, a gesture of his hand going unnoticed by Sharon because she simply blinked. Dennis did not miss it however, unable to take his eyes from those he did not trust. His stomach lurched and his wound stung all the more as Sharon screamed, thrown hard against the wall by one of the six men she had been very aware of. His tough body covered her, forcing his weight against her, making her skin flame in uncomfortable protest. As he kicked her knees apart, forcing his own in between, Sharon realised her punishment was due. And even as his large grubby hand cased her chin, jerking her head painfully up so it rested against the wall, Sharon's gaze still found Dennis. The terror in his face, the pain, the disgust, it gave her the strength to control her repulsed shuddering. She did not struggle. She simply waited.

"So..." Jack breathed dramatically, his footsteps amplified to an unnerving volume as he strode confidently forward. "...Dennis let you in on my little secret did he?"

The unbearable weight left Sharon as Jack's man stepped back, leave room enough for the boss himself to advance on her, to crush her, to make her feel oh so sickened. And though she was distracted in the worst kinda way, her gaze still did not move, watching the dark flickerings of emotion rage in Dennis' tortured eyes, hating he knew what was coming, hating even more that Sharon was here to allow it. But she hoped that even in her wordlessness, she had proved to him that, though were both to be crucified, as she had always known, at the very least, they were here to share in the agony together.

She tried not to wince as his sheer weight, his disgusting form suffocated her, forcing her to wheeze for breath. She simply nodded, defiant. 

"Oh, he told me what you wanted, alright. But I wanna know Jack is why!"

"Why?" he echoed, his laughter mocking her. "Oh Sharon... you're a very attractive woman-"

Sharon tried to swallow down the bile that had risen in her throat. "Yeah? Well, the fact you had to shoot one of your own to get this close to me should tell you what I think of you. You disgust me."

He recoiled a little, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. "Oh... Sharon, that hurt."

She scoffed, turning her head away, feeling his rancid breath warm her cheek. "No. You don't have feelings Jack. You're cold. Nothing."

"Precisely what your boyfriend here is destined to become."

"So kill him." Sharon hissed, shrugging nonchalantly. "Nothing you do to either of us changes anything! The idea of you... touching me... after him? Raping me? It's sick. Why can't you just buy it like any self-respecting bloke, Jack? You've got enough blood on your money ain't ya?"

"It isn't about money!" he assured her darkly, eyes flaring angrily as he looked fleetingly at Dennis.

"No, cos it's about power. And you'll never have that either. I won't let you. Not even after you kill me right next to him."

Jack reeled back a way in confusion. Sharon blinked, pursing her cracked lips thoughtfully.

"I just... assumed that's what you'd be doing now I'm here. I mean, it's advisable isn't it? Cos if you don't Jack, then believe me, I'm gonna walk out of here and drag you down into Hell."

His tough, podgy hand leapt up like a serpent and squeezed the motion from Sharon's arm, making her cry out in pain.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Sharon spat back. "This is my end too isn't it? I figured you'd appreciate the entertainment! Cos you know what, I ain't Den Watts' daughter, I ain't Dennis' bit on the side and I ain't-" Wincing, she tore her arm savagely from Jack's grasp. "-your possession. I'm just me and you don't wanna test me, cos unless you're gonna set all six of these charming monkeys on me to tear me apart, then I'm gonna carry on making my own damn choices, alright?"

Impressed by her nerve, that last remaining flame of some sort of spark inside her, Jack smiled. "I can see that, Sharon." he announced loudly, tilting his head back. "Why else would you be back here eh?"

Thrown a little by the directness of his question, Sharon was silenced for a few seconds as she considered her words. But out the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Dennis, his attention gone from the gushing wound as he tried not to look at her, without being able to stop himself doing just that, looking afraid of the things he had heard her say. Maybe he recognised what a deep grave she was digging. She nibbled anxiously at her lip and picked her way between the streaks of blood on the cold floor before she crouched down at his side and nervously pressed her own hand against the wound, never forgetting the importance of stemming the flow of blood. Dennis couldn't help but yell in pain and Sharon almost felt it herself, whispering a soundless "sorry" before she turned back to Jack.

"For Dennis. You knew that. That's exactly why you're doing this."

"Dennis knows you pay for your mistakes under my rule, Sharon."

"Your rule? Who the fuck are you... Hitler?! What's he got to pay for Jack, what?" But as Jack's face darkened, realisation hit her at such a force that Sharon could not hold back a subdued laugh. "You're going to kill him... because I chose to sleep with him. Wow, you're unbelieveable, really fancying your chances with me? Me, Jack! You stole my dad from me... you brought me to this place because he what... dared to come back? Show your failings? You're punishing me for... even becoming part of Den's family and Dennis, because... what, he didn't just leave me to ya?"

"I don't see he's got much choice anymore." Jack chuckled and his band of muscle mumbled and nodded their agreement.

Sharon felt Dennis lurch and she tugged desperately on his arm, hearing him curse in pain as it forced the wound a little more open. "You'll make it worse." she said firmly, her eyes not moving from Jack. She rose and looked coldly around all of them. "Alright fine. Do your worst. Pass me round, I don't care. Torturing me like that won't make any of you any more of a person. Me telling you to do it don't make me any less. Cos I'm too repulsed by all of you... everything you do to be frightened of you anymore. You're pathetic and you know what? I'm embarrassed for ya!"

The room span as Sharon was thrown hard against the wall again, her spine throbbing in protest. But she could barely register any of it, because she could not breathe, her every effort threatened by the hand that encircled her throat as the other, rough and dirty against her skin, pawed beneath her skirt, trying to pull it down. It wasn't so much fright that had her pinned there. It was the submission. That if this happened, then it would be over and no longer exist to suffer. So, as hot tears prickled in her eyes, her legs shaking like she might collapse, Sharon looked up and imagined different surroundings, a different touch. Yeah, the warmth and softness of sand between her toes as she walked the beaches of Florida beneath the roaring sun. Not this...

But Dennis could think of nothing but, unable to ignore this whole scene playing out in front of him like a horror movie. His heart was pounding like it was never going to stop, or not at least til these images had sent him half demented. He felt sick, and he'd never known an anger like it, roaring in the centre of his chest. It was so much more intense than the truth of the pain he felt. It was almost easy to forget the sticky sensation of blood on his hand, drying awkwardly between his fingertips, and to pull himself up on his feet, ready to kill the man that dared to touch her. To tear him apart...

But six others had forseen the need in his movement and swooped, Alex sending Dennis reeling with a sharp and well-aimed punch into Dennis' stomach. He fell, groaning, onto his knees, but was not left to stare at them for long as he might have hoped, to kid himself that none of this was happening. No, because they were all so viciously determined that physical suffering was not enough. If there was anything inside him that had learnt to care for Sharon Watts, then between them, they were going to find it and spear it, shatter this once soulless man.

Archie fell easily to his knees beside Dennis, almost smiling over at him as he reached his level. When Dennis remained stubbornly unresponsive, Archie scooted closer and leap for hs victim, jerking Dennis' head roughly up so that the bones in his neck cracked together loudly and painfully, delivering him into Alex's rough and unforgiving grasp. Alex pressed both his hands hard against Dennis' ears so that there was no chance for movement, even as Archie skilfully flicked out a switchblade and held it almost expertly up to Dennis' throat, his pulse all the more erratic and almost visible in his throat at the threat. Archie's hand was steady and unconcerned, settling back with a cheery smile to watch the tears stain Sharon's face as Jack groped her.

"Looks like she's enjoying herself don't she eh?" he said casually.

Alex laughed cruelly, amused as he leant over Dennis and hissed; "Your girl like it like that then Rickman?"

Fury was causing Dennis' chest to tighten dangerously, but he bit hard into his lip and closed his eyes, hoping that he might suffocate.

"Ah-ah!" Alex sang out as he recognised how Dennis was choosing to close off. He tilted Dennis' head forcefully up and down, as if he were a puppet. But a puppet would not have felt the very point of Archie's blade stab a little more threateningly against the skin, with almost enough pressure to puncture the skin. "You are gonna watch this, mate. Gotta teach you a lesson... or you know what happens."

"Well then maybe you should just do it!" Dennis yelled angrily, if only to dispel the repulsiveness of the images playing out in front of him from his head. Sharon almost gasped in fright when her eyes involuntarily sprang open again in alarm. And perhaps the only thing she could take in was the glint of the blade, poised so readily against the pulse pounding in Dennis' throat.

"No!" she cried out in horror, somehow finding the strength to push Jack back from her, to rid her shuddering body of his filthy touch. She swallowed down a ready, swelling sob, which seemed to choke her. "No, you can't!" And she turned wildly back to Jack, who had recovered well from such an untimely rejection and smirked coldly as he slid his hands into his pockets.

"Of course we can't." he agreed with a slight nod. "Where are my manners?"

Sharon thought better of answering that and took again to biting into her lip.

Jack let out a low whistle and Dennis felt the blade shift against his throat as Archie slacked and Alex threw off his grasp, causing painful twinges in the muscles of Dennis' neck. But oh, how could he care, too horribly captivated by the way Sharon tearful eyes were widened in such fear as they locked on him. Terrified, and yet still so beautiful. He'd tried so hard for her... and she was still here, still suffering, with so much worse that whatever Dennis would be bestowed to come to her.

All six of the men began to back off, the shortest two breaking off and obediently going to stand on either side of their boss as Archie dragged himself heavily to his feet, the flicked blade still held protectively in his fist.

Not thinking whether any of them at all would launch themselves at her if she moved, Sharon bolted to Dennis, collapsing in tears on her knees as she tried to hold him.

"I'm sorry." she gasped feverishly. "I'm so... so sorry!"

Breathlessly, he hushed her, his bloodied thumbs stroking away her hot tears as they poured down her devestated face. He kissed her crown and tried not to make his agony too obvious as he held her.

"I need you to be at home..." he reminded her weakly.

"And I need to be here." she argued in a tearful mumble. "I can't leave you to this... I won't!"

He tried to smile, but found he couldn't and was just grateful that Sharon hadn't been looking to notice his struggle. "You've got no choice. I ain't having you in the firing line too. No way, not ever."

Sharon opened her mouth, but her protest was cut across by Jack. "Oh... she has plenty of options Dennis."

Dennis glared and wished he could have held her a little bit tighter just to protect her. But he didn't have the energy, half woozy now.

Smirking, Archie moved forward and emptied his loaded arms by letting the objects fall all over the floor, the defeaning clatter almost making an ever more terrified Sharon sob against Dennis. But she remembered her vow not ever to be seen by these men as weakened whatever their threat, and reluctantly crawled away from her lover, straightening up and falling against her knees as she wiped at her streaming eyes. Her many tears meant that her vision was still blurred, relying on what she could hear more than anything. Clattering, shuffling footsteps, like Archie was kicking something along the ground. Then.. a heavy thud... a clang. Oh, Sharon saw each object upon the ground, but could not register them, perhaps too afraid to. She took a deep breath and rubbed at both her watery eyes until they were sore, yet clear.

And then she recoiled in horror, nausea squirming on the floor of her stomach.

Lain out in front of her... Archie's switchblade, the blade still out and gleaming, almost as though it was begging to be used... a length of rope, coiled like a snake, awaiting its next victim... and a handgun. Loaded no doubt and ready. Ready for Sharon's choice.

Her voice shattered, she hardly managed a whisper as she sought her explanation. "Wh-What?"

"Well seeing as you care so much..." Jack informed her coldly. "...why don't you choose? I'm going to kill him anyway, you're right. And for all you've suffered thanks to that father of yours, I think you deserve an input into Dennis' departure here!"

"No!" Sharon screamed in horror as the sob exploded, ripping her chest in half. She turned round desperately, neeeding Dennis' reassurance that this wasn't really happening, that she wasn't about to have to do this. His face was like a sheet of stone, no emotion, no sign, no nothing. He looked resigned. And Sharon felt sick.

"I'm giving you the choice!" Jack spat threateningly.

"You're making me just as guilty!"

"But you are. You were guilty the second you crawled into bed with this betraying scumbag! I've got my jury, I'm judge, and you Sharon, you're executioner."

11:50 am

Sharon was almost heaving as she sat there on the cold, hard, floor, the only warmth coming from the lashings of blood that marked her. Her only distraction being how her heartbeat pounded desperately away in her ears, matched only by the throbbing of a reeling mind. She did not feel within her own body. She was floating above, watching this miserable scene, screaming out for her own wrecked form to make the right choice. But she did not know what it was, in body or spirit. She looked at the murderous objects and shook so violent her spine began to twinge painfully, protesting at having to keep such a laborious burden as her own body upright. She was soundlessly sobbing, her chest closing off and being ripped open again by the every one that left her, making her cry harder.

"You're wasting time Sharon!" Jack growled impatiently as he paced up and down the row of objects, his cold, narrowed eyes awaiting the decision she could not make.

"I'm not going to do this!" she screamed hatefully as she pulled herself shakily up onto her bare feet, her knees weak and sagging as she fought to hold her own weight. "It's sick Jack - you can't make me do this to him!"

"Oh I can!" he assured her in a dangerous hiss as he stepped forward, the toe of his shoe pinning down the rope. "Cos if you don't, then I'll kill you too."

Sharon tried not to shudder, swallowing down the dryness in her throat as she defiantly straightened her back. Jack stooped and picked up the end of the rope from inside the coil, rolling it almost tenderly between his forefinger and thumb. "Haven't asphyxiated anyone for a while..." With a sickening smile, he spun on his heel to face Dennis, idly playing with the rope as though he were petting an animal. "What do you think Dennis? After all you tried to do for her..."

Dennis tried to hold himself straight, but it sent a pain seering through his light head. He couldn't feel much beyond the white hot pain, sharper and sharper as his surroundings slowly left his focus, seeming further and further away. "Do what he wants. Do it."

Sharon felt a sob swell in her throat as she shook her head feverishly, whispering frightfully; "No!"

He spluttered on a weak laugh at her protest, but Sharon sobbed harder as she realised the chuckle come hacking cough had drawn blood up from his lungs. Jack gave out a satisfied smirk, but Sharon rushed to her lover, her knees by now bloodied all of their own as she fell awkwardly to the floor and tenderly wiped away the flecks of blood from the corners of his dry mouth.

"You're not here to... remember? I'm not here to hurt you... never."

"I'm already down." he murmured agonisingly, wincing through the every laboured breath he had to force. He lifted his less bloody of hands and it shook desperately as he reached to touch her. His fingertips shuddered as they danced a path from the base of Sharon's warm neck upwards, shocking her and soothing her all at once. "I don't wanna... wait to be out. Do it and... you'll be safe. You'll-"

"I'll be the reason you- no! I won't."

"Someone's gonna. And I trust you... to go with the softer option."

Through her pulsing tears, Sharon managed the most painful of laughs. "I'm frightened darlin'..."

"Don't be." he soothed shakily, forcing his eyes that little more open just to admire her, even in all this misery. "Do what they want and you've got your chance... to go home, be normal... happy, for the both of us yeah? Y-you can forget it."

"How am I ever supposed to forget this?"

His smile was not sincere. "Yeah... maybe. But Sharon, you can't let them... not cos of me. I ain't... worth it. You're so much better. Please... just get out of here. Do what they want, and then you can go, they won't do anything to ya. And this can all have just been some nightmare."

Laughing weakly again, Sharon bowed her heavy head and pressed her cracked lips to Dennis', the coppery taste of blood being all she could find in his weak, whispery kiss.

"Just... go easy on me, yeah?"

Blanching hard at her lip, Sharon blinked furiously to disperse the treacherous tears that had built in her eyes. She focussed on the nothingness of the wall opposite and nodded jerkily, biting back a sob as she got up, turned her back on him and settled herself in front of the hateful objects again. She reached out, her shivering hand hovering above the switchblade. She wanted so much to grab at it, to leap up and plunge into the backs of every one of these vicious, murdering animals. But even the object itself repulsed her and her hand jerked back, almost of its own accord, as though she had just touched a red hot poker. 

She grappled at the rope, winding a rough length over her hands and pulling it straight. She studied the feel of it, her eyes closed. And oh, she could almost feel it around her own throat, squeezing every last breath of life and will from her. And imagining that happening to Dennis when he was already so close to the nothingness that was despair and surrender to the darkest of ends, it was too brutal and not even guaranteed to work and take all of Dennis' obvious agonues. She could never allow it. She tossed it away hatefully, wincing as she heard the thud of it hitting the floor again. Jack gave out a little sigh and Sharon looked accusingly up through her teary eyes, despising him with all her being as she saw the soft taunting smirk that had sloped his hairy lip.

Fury exploded inside her and her hand fell heavily around the barrel of the gun, her hand steady as she got up, her arm perfectly rigid as she thrust the gun threateningly in Jack's direction.

"I hate you!" she screamed, her raw emotion pounding the dark walls. "I despise you. And this lot? They're here through fear, nothing else! They don't like you, they don't even respect you. They're scared of you. And you know what, Jack? I ain't! Cos it's you they should be killing, not Dennis!"

Adrenaline pounding through her system, she whirled round, casting her devestated eyes on her fading lover, who was writhing in agony as he tried to grip his arm. 

"Don't." he whispered breathlessly. "You'll be next. Please..."

Sharon shook violently watching his struggle and even more so at hearing his words. Didn't he know she had to, it was all she had left.

"And why's it him, Jack? Why?"

The robust boss was still.

"Then I'll tell you why shall I?" Sharon shrieked. "Cos he was your golden boy. You thought you'd turn him into you. Only it turns out, he's got a soul, Jack. He feels... just like I do... we feel for each other... and we went at it cos we could... cos we wanted to! And at every stage in this game Jack, your own favourite's got you beat. In anything you wanna think of... he's ten times the lover, ten times the man you will ever be, even if you leave him to die right there! And you won't! Cos it's in my hands now. I could kill the lot of ya, and I'd enjoy it too!"

Jack simply blinked. Somehow, that unnerved Sharon desperately, and her hands began to shake to the volume that she could hardly grasp the gun. It felt so heavy and alien in her hands. And yet... this had been the way of life, of survival for the very man whose life she was so much more than desperate to save.

But it was only in those next few seconds, focussing all her energy on keeping her grip, keeping Jack Dalton himself in her sight, that she realised, in a swirl of panic that she might well have been too late. Because that shattering roar of pain was Dennis'. She whirled round wildly, her finger ready against the trigger as she took in the sight of Archie and Alex striking out with their feet and fists as if they were beating a dog. And at the cold, emotionlessness in their eyes, Sharon knew they meant to finish the job. She couldn't bear Dennis' pain, her stomach lurching with nausea whenever she caught sight of another splattering of blood glistening menancingly on the floor.

"Get away from him!" she yelled to such an intensity that her voice shattered and her clammy hands shook all the more.

But they weren't listening. "Either you kill him or we do! And we ain't gonna care quite as much how!"

"No... No... you can't! You- I- no!"

"Sharon!" Dennis pleaded, blood once again trickling dangerously from his mouth.

Sobs heaved her whole frame, the gun weighing down her hand as she shook her head viciously, trying. She heard footsteps against the floor and felt a presence over her shoulder. Jack chuckled against her ear.

"Aren't you going to help your man out Sharon?"

"Get off me!" she spat, shrugging him away in disgust, her arm aching as she struggled to hold the gun, stepping forward, for the first time truly reading terror mixed in with the pain widening those otherwise mesmerising eyes. She tried to hold the gun steady, but the look of relief to lift the still bloody corners of Dennis' mouth as he gazed at her only made her feel worse.

"Please..."

Her next breath was drawn sharply into her chest as a frightened gasp. She tried to swallow down sob after sob that swelled in her throat, but the effort only seemed to choke her as tears pulsed down her face.

"I can't." she whispered defeatedly, sounding so very broken and disgusted with herself at her own lack of will. "Dennis, this isn't my world, I don't know-"

"I trust you!" he repeated desperately, doubling over as another vicious coughing fit took him over, robbing him of words and energy.

"It doesn't matter. I can't. Forgive me darlin'... I can't!"

And she turned away, her hands clamped to her mouth because she was convulsing so fiercely she thought she was about to vomit. She'd turned her back on him. She'd left him, all in that one movement, when she'd only come back to protect him. But what could she truly do? There he was, on his knees, having lost more blood than was ever going to be safe, asking Sharon, perhaps the only person he'd found himself caring for, to handle one of the most hateful objects she would ever touch, and use it to obliterate him, when they both knew he was playing so desperately on everything she felt for him. But even at the time when she hated him so intensely, never could she have been the cause of something so brutal. And even though she couldn't avoid the truth of Dennis' sheer agony, his blood still pouring from him, even though she knew that to have had her finger sat against the trigger was the kindest thing she could have done, she simply couldn't, too broken hearted at the prospect. Because it ws all her fault, she couldn't live with Dennis' death on her conscience too, his blood forever staining her hands as it did at the moment.

"Not got quite as much nerve as you thought you did then Sharon?" Alex mocked coldly, stepping up to her other side. "God, I'm glad you're not my girl. There he is... begging you to put him out his pathetic little misery and all you can do is head for the door." He shoved her roughly as he jerked the gun happily from her grasp. "There it is. Off you go to your daddy!"

Sobbing unashamedly, Sharon raced from the basement, somehow wishing that any of the men in the cramped space would strike and force her back into the room, to not let her go until her lover was dead against her, to make her truly suffocate in her guilt. But they let her go free, and keep running as blood poured from her feet, her knees struggling to support her. And as another haunting shot rang out... she fell to her knees, grieving before she made contact with the stairs. Because all that followed was silence. No more pain.

Dennis was dead.

12:05 pm

Sharon knew she had to go. But she could not move, curled up on the cold, uncomfortable stairs, howling like a baby. Her head pounded, her pulse exploded and oh... her heart broke. Could it have been any better had she been the one to pull the trigger? Would Dennis have been less afraid, in less pain? She'd failed him. No matter how much she hated those to have said the words, she knew they were right. He'd begged her... to hurt him, just so there might have been a chance for one of them. And Sharon felt sickened, almost as if she'd been punched in the gut... oh, she could feel that, really and truly. Because he had. Dennis had beaten her, she'd made him, just for the hope that he might live in this misery with her for a little bit longer. He'd hated himself, furious tears burning in those undecipherable eyes every time he had struck her. She'd tried not to feel the pain, to ignore him as he pleaded with her to let him stop. She hadn't. She'd driven him on to something he despised. Because he didn't believe the way he had hurt her was about survival, like it had been all the other times. But she'd asked him to, and he had done it.

What had Sharon done? Turned away and left him as he lay crumpled, begging for his own release? And suddenly she was the one destined to always be so much less than nothing. She might have been frightened, but... how was she supposed to live with this? Oh, she'd thought that having Dennis' death on her conscience, even when it was so inescapable was more than she could bear. But she was not free. Not in any way. Because it was her fault that Dennis had died in such a way. She had refused him the last thing he'd ever truly asked of her. It didn't matter that she had been left with breath in her body because it would only serve to torture her, leaving her condemned too for the rest of her own life.

And that was precisely why she found, hot, grieving rivers pulsing from her eyes, that she could not leave. Her knees still tremored, threatening not to hold her up, but she turned and raced back into the basement, the soles of her feet stinging so that she winced everytime they made contact with the floor. But she didn't care, barely noticed as Alex swung round on her, the gun still held fast in his hand and ready to go again if needs be.

"Last chance, Sharon!" he roared.

But she barely heard him, reeling as her searching gaze found Dennis, sprawled across the cold concrete floor, great bloody puddles growing more and more as it left him still, no longer needed.

And in that moment, Sharon may as well have been struck with as many bullets that remained in that bastard barrel, because nothing was ever going to stop her feeling as sick and as sorry as she did then. She fell hard on the ground as her knees gave way beneath her, and she collapsed, sobbing over her lover's bloodied body, so heavy and so still. And the words she needed to say to him tore her chest open with the regret, because they sounded so damn shallow. Because now... he would never hear them.

"I'm sorry, Dennis. I'm so... so sorry! I never... I never... I should've... oh God!"

Feeling the sticky sensation of Dennis' blood against her fingers, Sharon flinched and miserably bowed her head, pressing her lips to his, sobbing a little harder as she realised all the warmth had left his.

"I didn't mean to let you down." she confessed guiltily in a broken whisper against his ear.

Hearing the shuffling of footsteps behind her, she raised her hand in warning without even turning around. "You're never touching him again!"

"I don't suppose anyone will now." Jack spoke out, and Sharon could tell in the shuddering of his tone that the evil bastard was biting back an amused laugh.

"You think you can just go?" she spat hatefully. "You think I'll let you get away with this?"

As that threatening scream leapt back from the close, dark walls, Jack straightened his back defiantly. "You're in no position to threaten me now girl. The only person you have left to run to is that good for nothing father of yours. And y'know what? I can see now why you came back for Rickman. Cos your daddy... he hears this and he'll be tapdancing on the roofs of London! He's not going to care. No-one is going to care!"

"I care! I thought this was supposed to be about my dad, Jack? Showing him whose boss?"

"It was." Jack agreed. "But Dennis here... he decided to get in the way. Makes the scores shift a bit. Cos y'know, I think it's gonna kill your dad enough to know his angelic little Princess gave it up to one of mine. This may not be your world Sharon, but it certainly don't repulse you as much as you make out!"

"You killed him because he was mine!"

"Tell you that did he?"

Sharon gulped down an angered sob, not wanting Jack to see that, no, he hadn't. But she did know, even without the words ever having come from Dennis' mouth, that the whole thing had meant something to him. She'd seen the anger, the terror, in his eyes as he'd climbed from her bed and let her know that he was a very dead man if Jack found out what was going on between them. But it didn't stop him coming back. And it didn't stop him harbouring that need to make sure she was safe before this hideous moment had come for him. Had she betrayed him in returning... just to turn her back? Had she betrayed him in coming back when he'd given his everything, perhaps for the first time in his mess of a life  to make sure she was safe and free?

Oh, she felt like an idiot. A furious, heartbroken idiot. And to feel the weight of his body against her knees like stone, Sharon had never felt so alone. Because Jack was right. Den wasn't about to care what was tearing Sharon's heart apart. If he put his arms around her, his embrace would be cold and unfeeling, because he wasn't about to care that Dennis was dead. There'd be no understanding of everything they had suffered together. And Sharon would be left alone, in her own cracked shell, hiding away and waiting however many years for her own blackened end. She wasn't sure she could suffer the agony of waiting that long. Yes, she deserved it, but oh, she just wanted to feel safe again. Like she had with Dennis.

"He was never yours, Jack. He never wanted to live like this!"

"He proved himself pretty well!"

"That's because there was nothing else!" she screamed, her voice shattering as more sobs took her over.

"Until I brought you here." he observed in a slow hiss. "Tell me Sharon... were you something else?"

Out the corner of her eye, she registered Jack standing beside her, his well pressed suit not even ruffled for all the anarchy illustrated around him, and she hated him so intensely, she could have been sick. Her neck jerked painfully as she turned around, glaring at him through those narrowed, teary eyes.

"He wanted me." she spat. "And yeah, OK, I dunno what for. But even if it was just for the sex... it was more than you could ever have had. He knew you'd do this, Jack. He knew you were gonna kill him. And I decided to be the reason why! I was terrified but we were still there together. That beating... it weren't him turning in on me... he tried to take me home. But I said no, I wouldn't let him because I knew, if he came back here without me, he was gone. So we went to the warehouse... and yeah, he used his fists, just like always. But it might as well have been me, beating him. He hated having to be so brutal, cos that weren't never the way he touched me. And you... you're fuckin' jealous. That's what all this is about!"

"He knew the rules."

"Oh yeah." Sharon replied, nodding stiffly. "He knew 'em alright. We both did. But you know what we were doing that night. Right through, him and me.. all night. And that bastard, Pierre... I wish Dennis had killed him! Because if he hadn't crawled to you to spill his guts, then Dennis woulda come with me! Fuck you and fuck my dad, you're welcome to each other! Dennis and me woulda been together."

"Breaks your heart." Jack answered mockingly.

"You're gonna have to kill me too, y'know that? You're gonna have to do it, cos fuckin' hell, Pierre ain't the only one that can squeal! And I will. This is not gonna have happened to Dennis for no reason! I will never let you get away with doing this!"

Rolling his small, piggy eyes, Jack sighed dismissively. "I'd have thought you'd have realised by now Sharon - I always get away with it."

"No! I will bring you down Jack, I'll do it any damn way I have to, and I'll do it for my dad, I'll do it for Jamie and I'll do it for Dennis! I won't ever let you escape me because peace is the last thing that's coming to you! I ain't scared of you Jack, I'm disgusted by ya, I pity you and I will make you pay! And if you ain't up for that, then make this easy, kill me now!"

And at her invitation, Jack looked positively murderous, that pulsing temple reading to explode in anger it seemed. But of course, it was not his own fists that swang forward to attack the will that somehow still seemed to exist within this shattered woman. Alex knotted her arms behind her back, rendering her helpless as she screamed in pain, writhing against this restraint and getting nowhere as Archie willingly laid into her. She began to cough violently as he pummelled her stomach again and again, and she began to feel Dennis' faded bruises reform on her flesh. But guilt, guilt and fury meant she barely felt the pain even as she screamed and sobbed.

Jack had to raise his voice to be heard above such commotion but it didn't seem to faze him, walking confidently up the same length of the blood-stained concrete, mesmerised by the way Sharon's devestated, filling eyes never left the crumpled form of her fallen lover. Oh, it would have touched him someplace were he not so satisfied.

"Is that what you want Sharon, hmmm? No, no, no. It's so unnecessary. You see I know you'll keep your pretty mouth shut!"

"No you don't!" she screamed back, swallowing down the pain. "You can't break me, Jack! Nothing... nothing..."

But his eyes sparkled, challenging her.

"Not even your little sister? Vicki isn't it?"

And he raised his chubby hand to halt the beating.

"You dare threaten her..." she choked viciously.

"What are you going to do about it, Sharon? There's no Dennis now and your dad... can't be that far away can he, and yet he's not coming. Do you think he will Sharon? Spend hours trawling round for his precious Princess? Oh, it isn't gonna take much to find the daughter Den forgot is it?"

"No!"

"Then keep it shut!" he hissed. "Or you know what's coming!"

He shoved her roughly as he stomped past and it didn't take much to topple her. She crashed to the ground, sobbing and spluttering frightfully, crawling the few labourious inches to lie in line with Dennis' body. There was no protection to be found here anymore and yet she searched for it desperately. Because here was the only man with any clue as to how it could ever be right. And because of Sharon, because of the cowardice she despised so much, it was her fault he was gone, now no more than a bloodied shell.

"I'm so sorry Dennis." she whispered again, snuggling awkwardly down against his shoulder as tears poured down. And she took a deep breath that ravaged her drained body, almost splitting her reluctant and tight chest in two. Her limbs, smeared with blood hers and otherwise, felt like lead, but she prepared to drag herself up and at least try and walk out of here whilst Jack seemed willing to allow it.

She kissed the base of Dennis' neck. Goodbye. And she froze.

"Get her up." Jack muttered gruffly against Alex's ear. "We're shipping out."

"Yes boss." 

Sharon did not register the footsteps that came for her, her breathing so rapid and shallow, desperate as her frenzied ever crying eyes tried to make sense of the lifelessness of Dennis' body.

"Dennis?" she murmured feverishly, panic rising in her chest.

But of course, nothing could be returned to her.

Alex coldly dismissed Sharon's increasingly hysterical state and dragged her up from the ground, trapping her in his arms. She screamed in protest, reaching pontlessly out for Dennis.

"It's time to go!" he snapped fiercely, not even looking back as he followed the rest of them out from the basement. Sharon screamed and cried and kicked and writhed, but she could not free herself. They would not allow it and more so, they would not listen to what she had to say.

"No! He's not... please, you can't... please don't leave him there... he's not- he's not- DENNIS!"

But that's precisely what they did, Alex hissing that if Sharon calmed down, he would not hurt her and would instead deliver her back in one pretty piece. But she barely cared. They'd ignored her and they'd left Dennis... dead in the dark and lonely shadows of the basement.  

2:45 pm

Vicki Fowler sat, rigid from the amount she had cried, against the hard plastic chair, her back throbbing as she looked up and down the buzzing and yet miserable hospital corridor, wondering how much more she could take. They hadn't forgotten she was waiting to see Sharon had they? Oh God, she was still alright wasn't she?

Just before one o'clock, the shrill ringing of the phone had been the only thing to draw Vicki from her misery, curled up numb in her bed, staring so blankly at the wall, missing her sister so much, so damn frightened that it wrenched at her gut. But up she flew, pounding down the stairs and snatching up the receiver, the sound simply reigniting the hope that she might hear Sharon's voice again.

"Sharon?" she called breathlessly.

No, and her broken heart heart had sunk. It was a nurse from Walford General - Sharon had been discovered slumped, bloody and bruised outside the hospital entrance and the doctors were making her comfortable now.

Bloody and bruised? What... What did that mean? Oh, Vicki had tried to demand to know, but she had been dismissed in teh kindest ways known, as the nurse was bound by duty to return to Sharon as soon as possible. Shaking, Vicki replaced the phone, hardly able to mumble her thanks. She felt sick. What had Jack done to her?

Vicki flew into the dark lounge, expecting to find her father hunched desolately there as usual. The lounge was empty, and in a moment, Vicki was absolutely frantic, leaping back up the stairs and searching the upstairs rooms with a lot of crashing of doors. He was not anywhere. She wanted to scream out but... oh... she had to be with Sharon. Worrying so much for her sister these past few days, she couldn't bear to have to start doing the same for her dad when at last, the hope was back.

Vicki had raced to the hospital, barely breathing, her chest was so tight with the panic and the blissful anticipation of seeing Sharon again. She felt lonely, but knew that without her dad, she simply had to do this alone.

"Sharon!" she gasped, tearing into the reception area of the hospital. "Sharon Watts!"

A nurse wondering past slowed up. "Vicki? Vicki Fowler?"

Vicki whirled round, almost in accusation, relieved to realise she recognised the voice from the phone.

"Yeah! Yeah!" she agreed breathlessly. "Sharon's my sister! Please! Where is she? Is she...?"

The nurse put her arm comfortingly across Vicki's shuddering shoulders and lead her off down the corridor, reeking suitably of antiseptic that made Vicki's nose wrinkle in protest.

"I don't mean to alarm you Vicki, but as I said on the phone, Sharon was simply... found. She could have brought herself in had she wanted... she has no serious physical injuries; cuts and bruises and she's a little bit tender, but she... she was just there, sobbing."

A hand flew to Vicki's mouth, hoping to keep in the gasp of horror. "Has she said...?"

The nurse shook her head sadly. "Not a word, I'm afraid. She's calmed down a little since, but she's... mute almost. But you must understand she must have been through one Hell of an ordeal, and at this stage, it'd be wrong for anyone to push her. She'll neeed to work through whatever it is in her own time, OK?"

Nodding dumbly, sharp panic rising in her chest, Vicki bit into her lip, daring to ask; "When can I see her?"

"I'm afraid the FME is still with Sharon at the moment Vicki."

She frowned in confusion. "The what?"

"The forensic medical examiner."

"Oh... right. Is that bad?"

Smiling sympathetically, the nurse shook her head. "Just procedure. Look... it might be a while before Sharon's back in her room and ready to see anybody, so why don't you grab a coffee and I'll let you know when she's back."

Obediently, Vicki shuffled off to the coffee machine, already dreading the taste of the foul liquid on her tongue before she'd even forced a shaking hand into her pocket to root around for some change.

~*~

Sharon didn't really care for the FME. But she cared even less for going back anywhere. There was nothing now. No-one was waiting, nobody cared. She might as well have stayed, not needing to say a word and only blinking as she felt the tears burn. Nobody now was going to see her weakened, she simply wouldn't allow it. She had to be strong, because she had more to prove to Dennis than she could bear. When the woman, just another overly sympathetic face when she hardly knew what she was dealing with; had peeked round the curtain and cautiously asked if it was alright to take a look at her, Sharon had immediately been suspicious and defensively drawn her patched up knees to her chest.

Sighing gently, the woman had come into the cubicle without an invitation and settled herself on the end of the bed, extending a well manicured hand, her shapely gleaming nails however, suitably short.

"Briony McLaren, Sharon... can I call you Sharon?" she pressed with a flickering smile of uncertainty gracing her pale pink lips.

Sharon remained motionless. It didn't seem to faze Briony, who shifted to make herself a little more comfortable against the scratchy hospital bedspread.

"I don't suppose anyone's told you who I am." she said softly. "I work in conjunction with the Walford Constabulary... I'm a forensic medical examiner and I've been asked here to-" 

Daringly, she reached out and pressed her hand over Sharon's knee. Scaling back a flinch of terror a beat too late, Sharon glared at the connection.

"Sharon, I don't have any trouble believing you've been through Hell these last few days. And it's my job, as well as all the doctors and nurses here to make sure you're physically well... that you've... come out the other side. Now, you can take as much time as you need, but please, will you allow me to check you over?"

Silently, Sharon looked away. Briony nodded in understanding and straightened up, moving round to the other side of the bed. "We wouldn't do it here. No, I have my own room, it'll be fine, I promise. And if you will, we can just talk, anything until you're ready."

She offered her hand. She saw Sharon's gaze swerve, just for a second, before she pulled herself off the bed and stood, with a dark face, apparantly waiting for Briony to lead the way. Perhaps anything was better than this. Perhaps then, Sharon could be left alone to let her guilt suffocate her as literally as it should.

So here she was. Sat, like stone, on the edge of the examining table. Thankfully, Briony had made no move to do such a thing and Sharon's crawling flesh was relieved and grateful all at once as she shuddered beneath her snared clothing. Briony was sat, a pile of papers in her lap, half casting her eye over them, and only half, because she hardly dared to take her eyes from Sharon, as if she expected such a shattered, silent woman to explode into angered activity, into vengance. Oh no, Sharon considered privately, her right was gone and it had been since the second she had turned her back on the man she might as well have killed at her own hands - just like he'd wanted! Oh, Sharon knew the papers bore her name, the reports on the injuries the doctors and nurses had noted and treated as soon as she'd found enough energy in her body to let them pull her inside to help her. Ha, no-one could help her now. She was cold, she was callous, she was a coward.

"Only answer me if you think you can OK, Sharon, we have plenty of time. And if you want to stop, if you need anything, then let me know... in any way you want."

Sharon simply blinked, without the energy or the will to offer anything else to portray her understanding. But Briony did not miss this movement and considered it an improvement. What else could she much expect from a woman that had been kidnapped and beaten like this, suffering God knows what else in the week since she had been forcibly removed from everything she knew?

"This says... they found some bruises across your stomach... and your shoulders. Old ones. Two or three days old. Do you remember how they got there?"

Silence prevailed, but Briony know that Sharon had heard her words and more, absorbed them, because for the every ragged breath that entered Sharon's system, she began to shake, more and more violently. Her head jerked in an involuntarily nod and Briony noted, painfully, that a sob appeared to be swelling, unreleased in Sharon's throat.

"Can you tell me how they got there Sharon?"

Sharon bit hard into her lip, her hair whipping her face as she shook her head feverishly. And Briony knew, perhaps on instinct, that she was hiding something, something that felt huge upon Sharon's burdened shoulders.

"Was it... to threaten you... to scare you... to...?"

Whimpering, Sharon shook her head more desperately. Briony hated how she couldn't help but upset the poor woman and took a deep breath, putting aside the stack of papers and pushing herself up to perch beside Sharon at a distance at the table, knowing the dangers of getting too close.

"One last question Sharon, OK? I promise... I won't... I don't have to come anywhere near you if you say no to this question, but please... don't lie to me. It's very important to me... and to the police investigating your... abduction that you tell me the truth. Do you understand that?" She bowed her head, trying to look into Sharon's teary eyes. Her lip trembled as she nodded. "Have you... at any time, since you were taken from your club... have you had any sexual contact with anyone that's been with you this past week? Anyone at all?"

Sharon jolted, as if she were terrified. But her eyes glazed and in the next moment she was rigid again, unresponsive and hardly blinking.

"Sharon?" Briony murmured, concerned. "Can you answer me? Have you..."

A voice left her as if it was not her own, her physical state so unchanged. It was a cold, factual snap of a voice.

"Yes."

3:25 pm

Vicki bit anxiously into her lip as she stood outside the closed off room, wondering how she was supposed to go in there and speak to Sharon. What could she say? What if she was never going to be the same?  Rachel, the nurse stood worslessly beside her, a sympathetic smile twisting her lips as she read the young girl's look of panic.

"H-How is she?" Vicki stammered, needing to prepare herself before she took that brave step.

The smile flickered, the eyes dulled. And Vicki had to keep pushing, feeling the desperation pounding in her chest.

"What did the FME say? That is right isn't it?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes sweetheart, that's right. Well, um... all I know is that Sharon's going to heal well, physically at least. They've had to carry out a few tests..."

"What sort of tests?"

Rachel blanched at her lip, not sure whether the frantic youngster was ready for what Briony McLaren had told her. But sympathy was still kicking readily inside her and she decided pretty quickly, that to have lived in the fear that she might never see her big sister ever again was perhaps a lot worse than the truth. So she took a deep breath and delivered it as softly as she could.

"Vicki..." she whispered cautiously. "Sharon's told the medical examiner that since she's been... gone from Walford... she's-"

"What?!"

"She's had sex."

Vicki recoiled, scoffing in disgust. "She was kidnapped! How can she have.... oh my God! Are you saying she was raped?"

Rachel flinched. "We're not sure. I'm sorry, but Sharon hasn't said anything more since. But what she did tell the medical examiner makes it necessary to carry out tests for... STDs and such."

"And such? What, you mean like... AIDS and stuff?"

"I'm sorry..."

Vicki felt her knees buckle, but Rachel's arms surrounded her quickly, keeping her up and offering her comfort at a time no-one else was around to offer it. God, she felt so alone, so how on earth did Sharon feel? A week in hell, having Jack Dalton's men, if not Jack Dalton himself forcing himself upon her and maybe, just maybe leaving her infected by such dirty, lethal diseases. AIDS. It already stood to steal her Uncle Mark away, how could she bear to lose Sharon too?

Wiping furiously at her eyes, refusing to go to her sister as she cried, Vicki hissed hatefully; "How could they do this to her?"

"Nothing's certain yet Vicki." Rachel enforced hastily, but the poor girl looked too heartbroken to hear her. Bravely, she stepped forward, pressing her violently shaking hand across the doorhandle. She pushed down and slipped silently inside the dim room. Her sister was hunched on the bed, rigid, her arms knotted around her bent knees over the bedspread.

"Hey..." she breathed nervously. "Can I sit down?"

Sharon turned her head a little and simply blinked at the hard plastic chair positioned at her bedside. Vicki decided to take that as permission and, her legs like jelly, she moved round the edge of the bed and settled herself down, unable to stop herself reaching for one of Sharon's cold hands.

"Please Sharon, talk to me."

She blinked again.

So Vicki squeezed her hand reassuringly and tried to swallow down her pending sobs. She was not going to break. She could see by the shell that her big, strong sister had been reduced to that she was the one that had to be strong.

"I missed you." she continued softly, really pleading with a motionless Sharon in a glance now. But nothing came. 

And for a while, Vicki had to accept that silence was all Sharon had to give. Until, the softest, most broken of murmurs; "They think he hurt me, don't they? He didn't. Vicki, he didn't!"

"Who, Sharon?"

"I... I made him, I-"

"Shhh, shhh!"

"No! You don't understand... I don't need tests, I don't n- I just need him." Gasping frightfully, Sharon turned to her little sister. "I'm never going to see him again, Vicki."

Imagining all the animals that kept her beloved sister caged in this kind of terror for so damn long, she couldn't help but snap hatefully; "Well, good!" but that caused Sharon to scream like her words had been a blade to her throat.

"They wanted to kill him. He wanted me to do it... but I couldn't! I couldn't and I should have done!"

"Sharon!" Vicki pleaded guiltily. "Please... who are you talking about?"

The word seem to lodge painfully in Sharon's throat, making tears well in her eyes as she struggled. "Dennis..."

Vicki's facial muscles crumpled in confusion. "Who?"

"He wasn't what you want to think. He took care of me... he tried to save my life... but I couldn't let him. I had to be there, don't you understand that? And they made him suffer Vicki, for something we did together... it wasn't just him, it was me too, but they didn't care, they-"

"What? Sharon, what did you do?"

Sharon surveyed her little sister suspciously. And she knew in a glance there was no way she could give Vicki, give anyone the truth in a way that would make them understand. They'd judge her, think worse of her lover when they'd been through a literal hell together. So maybe it was just best to come out with it and not allow herself to be judged. To fight her corner til the last. It didn't seem there was much else for her to do now.

"I slept with him." she said stiffly.

Now it was Vicki's turn to blink, stunned. "Did he...?"

"Force me?" Sharon spat, knowing the words were sticking in Vicki's throat. "No. I slept with him because I wanted to and I've got that woman, putting her hands all over me, testing me for God knows what... trying to make me into a victim and I'm not. Why won't anybody listen?"

"I'm listening." Vicki assured her desperately.

"Dad came for me y'know. But I ran away. I went straight back to him, to Dennis. I knew what they were gonna do to him, I knew why. Jack Dalton was jealous. Thought if he'd gotten there first, he mighta destroyed Dad this time round."

"But... you said Dennis tried to save your life... why go back?"

"Because he needed me! How can you call it saving my life when he was gonna give his own? I hated it, I hated it so much! And Jack said they were going to kill him... they'd shot him, Vicki, blood pouring everywhere and I... I tried to fight, but they all knew I was gonna lose. He was in so much pain and I just couldn't stand it. I just... I wanted to protect him like he'd tried to do with me, but instead, he asked... no, he begged me to be the one that killed him. He said he trusted me and I... I couldn't stop crying. I just... walked out and... oh God Vicki, the gunshot. I went so cold..."

Vicki suffered similarly at her sister's words, a cold shudder zipping painfully up her spine. Her mouth was dry as she struggled to ask; "Did they kill him? Sharon?"

"He was just there on the floor, not moving, just... bleeding. So much. Why didn't I just do what he asked me to, Vicki? Why am I so selfish?"

"Hey, listen!" Vicki began desperately, leaping up and sinking on the edge of the bed, grasping desperately for Sharon's shaking hands and realising for the first time that they were stained with dried blood that she was perhaps trying to tell Vicki was not her own. "You survived. Dennis did what he had to do for you... and you... you did what you had to do too."

"I let him down!" Sharon argued furiously as her tears poured down. "They dragged me away from him... they brought me here... they left him there!"

The first harrowing sob broke free from the woman and her sister pulled her desperately into her arms, shushing her as she held her and stroked through her hair.

"I'm so sorry, Sharon." she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"I thought I felt it Vicki." Sharon choked in reply. "I was so sure."

"What? What did you feel?"

Sharon shuddered a few more times in Vicki's embrace, but at her willingness to listen, somehow found the strength to pull herself up, wiping furiously at her teary eyes. "I was on my knees... crying over him and I... I kissed his neck. I thought that was goodbye, I thought he was gone! But I felt it. The pulse in his neck. It was barely there, but I felt it when I kissed him. He was still alive."

3:40 pm

Shuddering as she took in her sister's desperate words, Vicki leapt up off her chair before she was even sure what she was going to do and she slammed her palm flat against the alarm bell. Sharon shied away with a contained scream. 

"What are you doing?" she demanded frightfully. 

Breathlessly, Vicki tried to reassure her sister as she settled back. "It'll be OK, Sharon, it will!"

And within three seconds, Rachel had raced into the room, her facial muscles shifting into a look of confusion as she took in the unchanged scene. "What is it?"

"She says he's still alive!"

"Was! I said he was! They made me leave him Vicki, he's not-"

"Oh no, you're not giving up, Sharon, not you!" Vicki insisted, grappling for Sharon's shaking hands. "Rachel... she said he was still alive!"

Rachel gave out a small smile and came cautiously around the edge of the bed, speaking softly to her patient. "Who, my darlin'?"

"Dennis." Sharon mumbled, trying to fight down the lump that insisted upon rising in her throat simply at saying his name. "He... He was still breathing. I think."

Rachel frowned, wishing she hadn't as she settled on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure, sweetheart?"

"How can I be sure?" she shrieked. "I thought they'd killed him. But I... I felt it. I'm so sure I did."

Watching the poor devestated woman work herself up into such a desperate frenzy, Rachel felt pity stir and reached across the bed, brushing Vicki's elbow and capturing her attention so as to lead her from the bed and speak somewhat more privately, even though Sharon's filling and evermore suspicious eyes never left the two of them.

"What did she feel Vicki?" Rachel whispered.

"She said... she kissed him. Goodbye. Cos she thought-" Vicki swallowed hard trying to rid herself of the hideous image that would no doubt haunt her sister for all the nights to come. "She kissed his neck. She says she felt his pulse. In his throat. But then they dragged her away and- Rachel, he's not gonna be dead is he?"

"Not if I can help it." the nurse answered determinedly as she straightened up, turning desperately into the corridor, searching for a colleague, any colleague. And oh, thank God! "Tammy!" she called out, recognising the ward sister coming towards them.

"What is it Rach?" she asked concernedly, her pretty green eyes narrowed as Rachel almost slammed into her, panicked into a frenzy.

"I need you to call the police OK?"

"OK." came the slow, not quite understanding reply. "And who am I supposed to say is calling?"

"It's all to do with Sharon Watts' kidnap. That's all I know. Apparantly there's some guy bleeding to death wherever she came from."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah." Rachel agreed breathlessly, nodding. She gestured over her shoulder back towards Sharon's room with her thumb. "So I'm gonna get back there and try and work out where the poor lass' been for this past week. D'you reckon you can organise the dispatch of a medical team to go with that?"

"On it." Tammy assured her, rushing off with a weak smile in Vicki's direction.

"Thank you!" Vicki cried out, feeling the burden lessen on her tired shoulders at just seeing Tammy leave.

"Right now, Vicki..." Rachel began, casing the young girl's heaving shoulders in her hands to steady her. "...I need you to come back in there with me OK?"

"What can I do?" she questioned pathetically, suddenly feeling so much more than helpless.

"Keep Sharon calm. Keep yourself calm. I know that's a big ask, but right now, there's a life depending on it, and by the sounds of it, it's a life that matters to your sister an' all."

Nodding weakly as treacherous tears welled, without permission, in her eyes, Vicki took the brave step of preceding Rachel back into Sharon's dim room. She went steadily to the bedside, sinking down against the edge of the mattress, scooping up Sharon's shivering hands, leaning forward and kissing her feverish crown reassuringly.

"I'm here OK?" she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But?" Sharon prompted bluntly.

"But... Rachel needs to ask you a question."

Rachel smiled uneasily as she stepped up, well aware of how tear-stained Sharon's face was. "Sharon, do you have any idea where you've been? The street name, anything?"

"Homerton." she mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Right..." Rachel said slowly, hoping... oh God, praying for more.

"Is there anything else?" Vicki pressed cautiously in a soft whisper. "You're doing really well sis. Just tell us... what was this place?"

"Converted hotel. It's a mess from the outside... falling apart."

"What was around it?" Rachel asked.

"Security fence."

"No, I mean outside. When you left this... hotel... what could you see?"

"Shops. People. Chewing gum on the pavement."

"Sharon, please... I know this must be really hard, but I'm trying to help Dennis here." Sharon jolted, her big eyes sparkling with fear. "You want to know he's OK don't you?"

A sob swelled in her raw throat, but she choked it back, using all her remaining energy on trying to focus.

"There was this... old style cinema across the street. And I mean old, it was... advertising black and white movies... Gone With The Wind I think."

"Clarence Road." Rachel announced certainly as she leapt up. Vicki flinched, unnerved by her apparant certainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

"My nana practically lived in that cinema Vicki, took me there all the time when I was little- I'd know it anywhere. I promise you I'm gonna do my best, Sharon. You get some rest OK?"

"I thought you were calling the police?" she replied vaguely. "I want to talk to them, I need to help them!"

Rachel nodded in understanding. "Course you do, and that's fine, just don't overdo it, OK?"

"You will... let us know won't you?" Vicki said anxiously.

A sympathetic smile twisted Rachel's lips. She could see the desperation in both their faces. Did they really want to know if she was about to return to them with news a failure?

"Sharon..." she began softly. "...what are they dealing with?"

Her watery eyes flared in accusation. "He's not a psychopath!"

"No, I didn't mean... what had they done to... Dennis?"

The sob swelled again and Sharon had to quickly bow her head as she nodded so that it would not explode. "They'd... shot him in the... shoulder. There was so much blood, it was covering his hand as he tried to stop it but God, it wouldn't stop coming. And he was in so much pain." Her lip trembled. "I don't know where the bullet went the second time they shot him, I really don't. But I thought it'd killed him. I never thought-"

Whimpering as the misery began to overpower her and make her shudder, Sharon folded into her little sister's waiting arms.

"He'll be alright, sis." Vicki assured her shakily as she stroked through her hair. "You'll see."

With another weak smile, Rachel slid obediently off the bed and out of the room, ready to do her duty.

But Sharon held little faith. She'd seen the blood that had left her lover, marked her own flesh. How could he still be alive? And yet, somewhere deep inside, she was praying so hard that her stomach was knotting over itself, making her feel intensely sick. But how could she care?

Vicki could not quite comprehend why it mattered to her so much that this man, no more than a name to her right now was found alive. One look at her stricken sister and she knew that she'd never be able to handle the guilt. This guy had taken care of her in the most hideous of situations and Vicki couldn't help but feel she owed him some sort of debt as a result. Sharon wouldn't be able to lie about him... she was too damn distraught!

"I'm sorry..." Sharon mumbled thickly, half choking on the next sob, which she refused to let be born, straightening up and nestling down instead like a frightened child into the scratchy blankets, blinking back the tears as she looked sorrowfully up at her little sister, whose heart was wrenched, just wishing she could do something... anything!

"You don't need to be sorry." she whispered tenderly. "This is gonna be alright. He'll be alright, you'll see. The doctors are on their way now aren't they? You should rest."

But her eyes refused to close. She relaxed a little beneath Vicki's shaky touch, stroking through her hair, but some ten minutes later, the door creaked and she went so rigid in terror that Vicki winced for Sharon's pain.

"Sharon Watts?" said the kind looking nurse as she stepped into the room.

Sharon did not move or speak, which left it to Vicki, smiling apologetically as she nodded. "Yeah she is."

The nurse looked almost relieved to hear it. "Well, two things. Your father's just arrived-"

"Oh at last!" Vicki cried out in exasperation. She'd felt pretty lonely here, and knew that both of them could have done with Den's presence and comfort. She didn't quite understand what would have kept him away. Yes, he'd gone to get Sharon and yes, the poor desperate woman had given him the slip, but Vicki had left a million or more frantic messages on his phone to let him know where Sharon now was and how much she needed him now.

"-and-" The nurse frowned in confusion as she turned the sealed jiffy bag over in her hand. "-this was just delivered to Reception for you."

"'ere y'are." Vicki smiled, sliding off the bed to reach over for it. "I'll take it."

"Sharon? Are you up to your dad coming to sit with you? He's pretty anxious to see you..."

Beneath the covers, Sharon heaved her shoulders. She didn't care. But oh, maybe she did, because the crashing that followed, the anxious breathing, the quivering starts from his throat that never became words, oh, she couldn't curl up small enough to disappear and that was all she wanted.

"Princess!" Den gasped, bolting to her bedside. "What the Hell did you think you were- Do you have any idea how long I've- What I've been-"

"Dad!" Vicki shrieked forcefully as Sharon began to shake with the force of the crushing misery once again. "She doesn't need this right now! Please! Can't you just be glad she's here... that's she's safe?"

"What have you got there?" he demanded, hardly having heard her words.

"It's mine!" Sharon snapped, snatching it away.

"Oh well, that's nice for you Princess, never mind that you coulda gotten yourself killed pulling a stunt like that. No, no, don't worry about me, I was just the one tearing after you, feeling sick down to my gut thinking about what coulda happened to-"

But Sharon wasn't listening at all. She was clawing at the package with determined nails. And when the package split to reveal its contents, she screamed. She didn't stop, all for calling one name as loudly and desperately as she could.

"Rachel! Rachel! Rachel!"

"What?" came the equally loud but breathless reply as Rachel raced back into the room. "Sharon, what... oh my God!"

Everyone in the room was very aware that the pungent scent of blood was filling their nostrils. Vicki had recoiled without wanting to move away from her sister. But she couldn't help it. And Den, oh, one look and he was murderous.

Devestated as she was however, Sharon was somehow mesmerised by it. Her hands shaking still, she lifted the bloodied material into her hands, the scent so close that it made her already brimming eyes water in protest.

"No!" Rachel yelped. "Sharon, don't touch it!"

But of course, she was too late to deliver such warnings.

"It's his." Sharon whimpered, sounding so broken as her tears dripped onto the shirt, apparantly white once, but now so covered in... fresh blood... it could only mean one thing. It could not glisten this way and still offer hope to the likes of Sharon. And her chest was tore open as she howled, falling heavily back against the bed, cradling the soaked material like it were a child. The shirt off Dennis' wounded back. And all at once, even the hope from deep within Sharon's stomach was obliterated, replaced by waves of nausea as she rocked back and forth, sobbing.

"Sharon, please-" Vicki croaked, reaching over her sister to grapple for the shirt. "Give it to me-"

"No!" she screamed, throwing Vicki off so hard that she stumbled back, almost off balance. "You're too late! You're too fuckin' late!"

4:15 pm

Sharon had cried painfully hard for a good twenty minutes, howling and spluttering. Vicki stayed, rigid at her side, clutching a kidney bowl in her shaking hands, all of them so sure that Sharon was about to make herself sick in the misery. She watched the way the blood dripped from the torn shirt and stained her own bedsheets. Somehow, that seemed to level out her breathing a little and after a while, she pulled herself up. Vicki dropped the bowl carelessly with a clatter and reached forward. Sharon held the shirt all the more fiercely, refusing to let it go, but it was not that that Vicki reached for. She plumped up the pillows to keep her drained sister upright.

The scowl that twisted Sharon's cracked lips softened a little, relieved that she still held the scrap of material. Even Den had long since stopped trying to forcibly taking it from her hands as she had assured him, almost venemously; "I'll scream." There was no trust in his daughter's voice anyone. She sat, ignoring the twinges of pain in her back, caressing the loosened buttons like she was trying to soothe a terrified animal. In truth, that animal was her. Her breathing was less ragged, but oh, how she shook.

Den however, remained painfully tactless. "Who's all this for Princess? That Dennis?"

She glared at him and Vicki felt inclined to do the same.

"That Dennis..." Sharon spat quietly. "The man that kept me alive through all of this, yes! Him! They killed him... because of me!" And she thrust the bloodied material accusingly in his face. He reeled back, unable to keep his response merely a thought.

"After what he did to you..."

"I told you-" Sharon hissed angrily. "...you know nothing!"

"Oh right-" Den snapped tersely back. "-so it weren't him that beat you black and blue? It weren't him that posted the proof back to the house then eh?"

Vicki looked between them both, the words leaving their mouths confusing her beyond comprehension. "Sharon?" she whispered thickly, feeling tears prickle in her eyes. "He didn't...?" Not the man Sharon was swearing had kept her safe all this time? How could he have...

But her older sister was motionless. "Oh yeah, he did it alright." Her fiery gaze settled on her scornful father once again. "Because I made him!"

"Rubbish!" Den scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"But it isn't. I weren't his victim, Dad. He beat me and then..." She paused purposely, wanting her words to damage him for all their effect. "...he made love to me."

Den recoiled and Sharon, she almost smirked.

"You know absolutely nothing. And let's face it Dad, there's no point me saying anything cos you'll never get your tiny little mind around any of it. It was supposed to be you Jack wanted... that's why they kidnapped me... to make you suffer. But when Dennis and I- Jack said that'd hurt you enough, knowing I... how did he put it? Oh yeah... gave it up to one of his. And you know what Dad, I loved it. And that's what Jack couldn't stand... that's why Dennis is dead. And I suppose, leaving a body behind meant there weren't much time to come after you too. Dennis has saved you a miserable, bloody death. Me too. Can't you even be grateful? He's dead... what more do you want?"

Thankfully, Den did not have time to answer because there came a soft knock at the door and Rachel stepped into the room, looking guilty almost as two police officiers followed her in, flipping open their badges. A man and a woman, neither of which Sharon had ever seen before.

"Sharon Watts?"

"Yes?" she returned bravely.

"Detective Chief Inspectors Way & Merriman. We'd like to-"

"Ask me a few questions." Sharon finished tiredly, letting her head loll to the side against her mountain of pillows. "I know."

DCI Merriman, with a weak smile, looked fleetingly between Den and Vicki, who both stared blankly back at her, even if there was more challenging in Den's cold eyes. "Family?"

"I'm her sister." Vicki jumped in nervously. "And this is our dad."

"Right OK. Sharon, are you comfortable having them here while we talk?"

She nodded listlessly. "They'll need to hear this."

DCI Way grabbed himself and his colleague a hard plastic chair each from the corridor, bringing them both into the small room and setting them down at Sharon's bedside. 

They were barely sat when she asked, a little desperately; "Have you... found the..." She almost choked on the word. "...body?"

DCI Merriman looked down, her long blonde hair lapping at her shoulders. "We haven't heard yet I'm afraid. But when..." She checked herself. "...if they do, would you be able to identify-"

"Hang on!" Den called out in loud protest. "The girl's only been outta that hell a few hours..."

"Yes, we understand that but-"

Sharon cut her off, hissing in her dad's direction; "Dennis has nothing to do with you. Shut up." Then she turned back to her company and confessed; "I... I only knew him by sight. What if he don't... look the same?"

"Well... yes." DCI Merriman answered awkwardly. "OK, well do you have any other details for us. A name might be all we need."

"Oh God-" Sharon whispered, wracking her brains so much her head hurt. "I can't remember. Dennis... Rick-something, oh God, Sharon, think. Rick... shaw? I don't know!"

"Alright, alright!" she soothed, leaning forward to let her hand brush reassuringly across Sharon's arm, not having missed the fact she was toying with a bloodied shirt the nurse had told them on the way in Sharon was certain had come from the victim's back. They'd have to take that, run it through the database as evidence. But DCI Merriman could see that Sharon had it in a fierce grip, it was definitely best to leave her alone for a while. "Can you confirm that a... Jack Dalton was behind your abduction though, Sharon?"

Sharon nodded jerkily, another sob swelling in her throat.

DCI Way spoke next, leaning forward in interest. "And you say this Dennis character worked for Jack?"

"If that's what you'd call it." Sharon replied in a bitter mumble. "Then yeah."

"Rickman." he said matter of factly, folding his arms as he leant back.

DCI Merriman turned round quizzically. "Boss?"

"Dennis Rickman. Worked for Jack since he was knee high to a grasshopper by all accounts. Got out of care and went straight to erm, work. According to his records, he was never out the nick when he was a kid, but since he met Jack, he's ducked and dived with the best of 'em. Never managed to get him for anything. Got himself quite a reputation in the right circles did Dennis."

"He hated it." Sharon protested darkly. "He really hated it."

"Is that what he told you, Sharon?"

"Sort of." she mumbled. "Second day we... had a row. Bloody arrogant, bastard made me wanna spit blood. He told me I was pushing my luck, arguing with him so much."

"Did he hurt you?"

"I don't think so. I mean, he had me up against the wall by the throat for a minute or so, but now I think about it, it didn't really hurt cos that weren't what he was after. He said he wanted us to start again. And he said there was no point in making myself miserable while I was away from home because "me and you Sharon, we've got Jack for that." Not just me, both of us. He hated it."

"Right. Sharon, we've had a word with the FME, a Briony McLaren?"

Sharon shrugged. "So what?"

"She said you admitted to sexual relations during your... incarceration. Were they with Dennis Rickman?"

"Yes."

"Consensual?" DCI Way quizzed bluntly. Sharon narrowed her eyes contemptously at him.

"Yes."

"How many times did you...?"

"Three."

"And each time was...?"

"I just said yes didn't I? Look, I know Dennis and every man like him musta been a lot of things, but he was not a rapist!" She turned accusingly in her father's direction again. "So you can stop hoping right now!"

Den straightened up, amazed and horrified all at once. "Princess, what are you-? I'd never-"

"Yes you would." she sneered. "You'd rather believe he'd raped me than the truth. And the truth is, sleeping with Dennis was my choice! And I hope it chokes ya, I really do."

Vicki looked stricken, but she had no words to make Sharon's better so the police officiers promptly spoke out over the silence.

"Can you talk us through the days? How did you and Rickman meet?"

Sharon almost smiled as she recalled. "Came to beat the living daylights out my minder. Jamie..."

"Foxworth. Now he is young." Way observed smartly. "Only slipped out the care system a few years ago. Did hear he was another that Jack picked up. He's round here somewhere isn't he, Mich?"

DCI Merriman nodded. "ICU ain't he?"

"Jamie?" Sharon blustered. "Oh God, he is alright isn't he?"

"He's healing. He'll be transferred out soon, but obviously not before we have a word with him about all of this... Why was the beating ordered Sharon?"

"Jamie and me... we'd talked. And he felt sorry for me I guess. Gave his phone and I called Dad..."

"Can you colloborate that, Mr. Watts?"

Den nodded solemnly.

"Stupid bastard forgot to take his phone back. Dennis didn't touch him though, pulled me back instead, said he couldn't risk... marking the goods. I really laid into him. It was like he was enjoying it. That's how we worked the next day too. I didn't like him but... there was just something. I was so sure he was supposed to hurt me, but he always told me it wasn't him. So I guess I started to feel... safe almost. Until I saw him..."

"Saw him what, Sharon?" Way pressed.

"He got this phone call and I thought that was it, y'know, game over? Only he left me. I followed him. I sat on the fire escape, watching him. Then I realised what he was doing. Beating some French guy, got caught with a load of drugs. I felt sick. He really was capable of that... I thought he was gonna kill him. Only, the men that were with him saw me there. I ran back up to my room but he followed me, said he'd kick the bathroom door in if I didn't talk to him... he thought he could make me understand."

"Did you?"

Sharon shook her head fiercely. "I was so angry. We were really tearing strips out of each other. And then... I'm against the wall again and says we've been playing nice and he don't wanna do that anymore. Like he was bored."

"What did you do?"

She felt colour creep into her face. "Truthfully? I kissed him. I think it was an anger thing really, but that was the first time we-"

"You mean you had sex?" DCI Merriman asked.

"Mmmm. Like I say, something about him-" Hearing Den scoff in disgust, Sharon rounded on him, her eyes narrowed in contempt. "If you don't like who this has made me Dad, get out now. Cos I just can't care anymore."

Den blanched his lip and settled his hands in his lap, deciding to stay quiet. DCI Merriman decided to press on with questioning.

"What about-"

"The morning after?" Sharon finished confidently. "Oh that was interesting. We rowed again. He wanted to forget it, or so he said. I already had! I said it hardly mattered when Jack was gonna kill me. But no. It weren't that he wanted, not according to Dennis. He went off in a strop, told me Jack was taking me to dinner, told me to enjoy it. It was horrible, having him leering over me, realising why he hadn't hurt me yet. And somehow, I couldn't get Dennis out my head-"

"That's understandable." DCI Way said flatly. "Given that you'd just slept with him!"

"But it wasn't!" Sharon protested. "I didn't even like him! But I couldn't stop thinking about him, what we'd done. And Jack told me... that... I mean, he didn't say in as many words, but I knew.... he was gonna bump Dennis off."

"Why?"

"Said he got bored easily. And suddenly I cared. Made no sense, but he didn't deserve to die like that. I... I went back... to the hotel, my room and... Dennis was sat there in the dark. Wanted to come goad me about my evening, but when he saw I weren't playing, he got up."

"Did he leave?"

Sharon shook her head gently, lost to her recollections. "No. He stood behind me. And it weren't threatening. He... kissed the back of my neck, said all I had to do was say one word and he'd leave me alone. I didn't want him to. I can't explain it cos I don't know either but... maybe I was scared for him. I tried to tell him what Jack had told me, but he didn't stop... still kissing me and-"

"Was he forceful?"

"No! It was my choice to make him stay, I knew what he wanted. And he didn't stop cos... he said he knew. And afterwards, I tried to get him to talk to me, but it just seemed like there was no point. He said he'd always known Jack'd finish him like that. And I figured, and I guess I still do, that he was making me into the reason, using me. But he told me that... things happening between us made it worse, but there was something about me too, even if he didn't know what. That's why I trusted him when he told me not to. It's why I made him do what Jack wanted. It's why I made him hurt me. Cos we were in it together, me and Dennis. He hated it, hurting me like that, but I'd have let him do anything, just so they didn't hurt him too. He was better than that!"

Frustrated, devestated tears slipped from her eyes as she once again suffered the realisation that, with the bloodied shirt in her hands, it'd all be in vain and the pain was not even gone yet. Vicki carefully put her arms around her sister, holding her as she cried so quietly.

"I make that twice." DCI Merriman said after a while, in a very careful voice.

"What?" Sharon sniffled.

"You said you and Dennis Rickman slept together three times. So far I make it twice. When was the third time Sharon?"

Sharon sucked in a sharp breath. "The night he beat me. He felt so guilty, wouldn't forgive himself. He hated that he'd hurt me and I just wanted him to understand. I had to beg him to come and see me that night. He... just wanted to get me out of there, take what was coming to him, but know I was safe. I just wanted a last night. It was beautiful, but... I made him stay with me all night. And.. another one of Jack's... he saw us together and we were out of time. He tried to get me out, my dad was on the other side of the gate, but I saw the gun, pressed to Dennis' neck and I... how could I leave him? What kind of person would that make me?"

She began to cry desperately and Vicki folded completely around her sister as she held her, wanting to protect her with all that was available inside of her. Den, motionless for all the time Sharon had spoken, did not know where to look as he tremored so dangerously.

Rachel slid back into the room just in time.

"Detective Chief Inspectors?" she called out quietly, biting into her lip. "I think that has to be it for today. The doctors have things to discuss with Sharon."

DCI Way looked quite disgruntled, but DCI Merriman rose with an obedient. "We'll speak soon Sharon."

Sharon nodded dumbly as she shook Vicki off, not really hearing much past Rachel's words. The doctors have things to discuss with Sharon. Why did that sound so damn terrifying?

But as the police left, no doctor came into the room and Sharon's sickened nerves eased a little. Rachel took a deep breath, hands laced and stepped closer to the bed.

"Well, at least the doctors can if you like. They just thought it'd be... easier coming from me. Is that alright?"

Sharon smiled nervously. "It depends what you wanna tell me."

"We... fast-tracked your tests. The results just came back."

"Is that bad?"

"Is something wrong?" Vicki fired anxiously, shaking even as her arm still encased Sharon's shoulders.

"Not wrong exactly. Sharon, given what you told the FME... about you and Dennis, there were certain tests we had to carry out as a matter of procedure..."

"Whatever filthy disease he's given her..." Den spat.

Rachel flinched, Vicki reprimanded her father; "Dad!" and Sharon froze.

"I haven't got... have I? Rachel?"

Soothingly, Rachel leant forward, stroking her arm, her kind eyes locking on Sharon's panicked face. "Don't be frightened darlin'. You're not infected by any means. You're pregnant."

4:25 pm

It was as though everyone had frozen under the weight of such enormous shock. Sharon just watched the way Den clawed his lip back until he was white, fearful that the way his temple pulsed dictated he was about to explode in anger. Vicki's arm, stiff now across Sharon's shuddering shoulders was shaking more violently than ever and Sharon could almost feel her pain. But her own? There was none. It was as though she was lead. Rationality was all that kept her up, speaking so calmly, smiling even.

"Don't be stupid."

Rachel barely blinked. But Sharon wasn't to be fazed. "It's been a week Rachel. A week. How can I... I can't."

Smiling weakly, Rachel tried not to curl her fist, frustrated at her own inarticulacy. "Yes, maybe I said it a little wrong. Sharon darlin', when was your period due to start this month?"

Sharon looked at her as if she were half crazy. "Well, this week I think, but..."

"Stress, woman." Den snapped venemously. "Can't you see that she hasn't-"

But Rachel was not willing to hear it, snapping tersely; "No, Mr. Watts, not stress. Believe me, I understand your theory and I'd well believe it if medical science hadn't just proved us wrong. "Sharon-" she said a little softer as she looked at her patient. "-as yet there is no foetus present inside you, my love."

Vicki frowned in confusion as she listened. "Then how can you stand there and say she's preg-?"

"Because the kind of test we use isn't like a standard pregnancy test, Vicki. We can't allow it to be. It's a sensitivity test if you like... it'll detect the pregnancy hormone days before you even miss your expected period. And our result says Sharon's gonna be missing quite a few over the next couple of months. Right now, there's a fertilised embryo somewhere inside, ready to attach itself to the lining thickened in her uterus and develop into.... well, your niece or nephew."

Vicki tried to smile at that, but found the shock had pretty much paralyzed her facial muscles. Besides, Den still looked utterly murderous.

"That piece of scum knocked my daughter up?"

"Mr Watts..." Rachel tried to say tactfully as she caught sight of how Sharon's eyes were filling. "...I'm really not sure you're helping right now and if you can't... then I seriously suggest you consider leaving and giving Sharon some time to adjust!"

"This is my fault." Sharon said in a broken whisper.

"Oh Sharon, no!" Vicki soothed, letting her arms drop comfortingly around her sister again. Like a little girl, Sharon let her head flop against her shoulder.

"He didn't want this you know."

"Want what?"

"The first time we... the morning after he... he tried to get me to take the Morning After Pill." Laughing weakly, she snuggled against her sister. "I threw it at him."

"Sharon?" Rachel questioned carefully. "Didn't you ever use...?"

"Don't sound that way does it?"

"Well... why didn't you take the Pill?" she asked, perplexed.

Serenely almost, Sharon smiled again but said not a word. Vicki squeezed her shoulder and quietly became her voice. "Sharon wasn't supposed to be able- she had an abortion 8 years ago... didn't look after herself."

Rachel nodded. "Yes, I know, I read her notes. But no-one would ever have said this was impossible my darlin'."

"It felt that way." Sharon mumbled miserably. "My God... why does this have to happen now? What am I supposed to do?"

"Anything you want sis." Vicki whispered lovingly into her hair. "We're here."

But through the crook in her arm as she held Sharon, Sharon herself could see the storm in her father's face. "Are you?" she whispered doubtfully. Oh, there were so many of them. "I'm so scared."

"But you don't need to be." Vicki insisted.

"No? What, so it's as easy as bringing his baby into the world, is it? A dead man's child? What am I supposed to say when it asks questions eh? I barely knew him!"

"But... it can't all be about Dennis anymore Sharon." Vicki mumbled cautiously.

Sharon froze at those words, her gaze snapping from the bloodied shirt in her hands to Vicki's guilty face. Realising Sharon's grip was lax, Rachel promptly leant forward and wrenched the material away, glad to have unburdened such a terrorised woman.

"It's about you and this baby now."

"But there is no baby Vicki." Sharon whispered. "Not yet."

Vicki's gaze slid to Rachel, seeking reassurance as the words left her mouth. "But there... will be won't there?"

"Yes." the nurse replied solemnly.

"Over my dead body." Den spat. 

Vicki was incensed. "Dad!"

"This is not going to happen!" he yelled.

Sharon, however, barely blinked to register his fury. She was calm and still, but there was enough venom in her eyes as she looked in her father's direction to strike him down dead. It made Vicki wince, but her determination was entirely in Sharon's court. It seemed there was no bigger bombshell to come and no-one else around to hold the woman together.

"It isn't your dead body." Sharon sneered coldly. "It's Dennis'. And I will never forgive you for that. You don't dictate to me Dad, not ever."

"Oh what, so you're gonna waste your life on that bastard's child, just cos you'll never forgive me when I Sharon, when I didn't lay a hand on him?"

"You told Alex to kill him! You wanted to have that gun in your hands and that makes you the animal. And if there's gonna be a baby, Dad, then it's my baby, do you understand that?"

"No." he answered honestly, a cold edge still in his voice. "No, I don't and I'm sorry Princess, but I never will."

Sharon lifted her chin defiantly, spitting out every word venemously, hatred twisting her gut more and more. "So understand this. That animal... that scumbag saved my life! There wouldn't be anything for you to understand if it weren't for Dennis cos I, Dad, I wouldn't be here!"

"I came for you, didn't I?" he raged back feverishly.

"I'm not talking today, you stupid fool! I was gonna jump off Jack Dalton's roof, you know that? I couldn't stand it, any of it! I climbed over the barrier, and I stood looking down, trying to work up the nerve to jump cos knowing what I knew... I didn't want to be alive anymore. I'd rather have died than left that place without Dennis... why do you think I ran back as soon as you were gone? I didn't even know him, but going back to him was still better than going back with you... trying to play happy families when we were never gonna be-"

Den's chair clattered against the ground as he leapt up. Sharon felt the fear catch in her throat so she could not scream. Rachel leapt into action however and forced Den away from the bed.

"She's my daughter!" he yelled, as if he were wounded.

"Yes!" Rachel replied sternly in equal volume as she drew the door shut. "And she's had her world torn apart in a few words Mr. Watts, your attitude is not ever going to help. And if that isn't what you want to do right now, then I demand you leave this hospital now. I'm not going to let you back in there, Den! Sharon needs time to work out what she wants, this has to be her decision! Not yours, not Vicki's, Sharon's. She needs to do what she feels is best for her and her baby. End of discussion! Leave!" 

But it was as though the sister had not heard this tirade as they were wound stiffly together. Vicki felt tears well in her eyes as she considered Sharon's previous words. "But I'm here." she whimpered. "Sharon, please..."

Regret stabbed, Sharon turned and squeezed her little sister's forearm reassuringly. "I'm sorry darlin', but that was how I felt. It wasn't you, I swear. It was Dennis... and now he's gone. I'm still here and I've got something... alien inside of me cos of him and I... what am I supposed to do?"

"What do you want to do?" she urged softly, stroking through her hair.

"My baby?" Sharon whispered in a cracked voice by way of reply, her wide brimming eyes frantically searching Vicki's face for reassurance that this half poised question was right. "And he ain't here to tell me he don't want it is he? And I-" An uncertain smile twisted her cracked lips. "I always wanted my own baby."

"I know sis."

"Never wanted it to be like this though. I always thought... whatever happened, even if I coulda... started my family with Tom, even with everything, then I coulda told my baby that at least Mummy and Daddy loved each other. How can I say that to this baby, Vicki? I can't and that's.... it hurts so much. It was a week... I didn't know him and now I never will, so what do I tell my baby?"

"I don't know." Vicki stumbled for the words. "Tell it what you told us. That Dennis... saved your life. Then... this baby... it'll know its Daddy cared, even if it was just for a few days."

Miserably, Sharon shook her head. "I really don't think I'm brave enough to do this. But what if it's my last chance?"

"Hey, shhh. You don't need to think that, all that matters is that you do what's right."

"Right?" Sharon echoed, awed. "He... saved my life. He... got me pregnant on the first damn try when I swore blind no-one ever could. If I don't... keep this baby, there's gonna be nothing left of him. Ever. And I can't do that either, Vicki. That's evil."

Silenced, Vicki simply cuddled her sister closer and Sharon certainly appreciated it.

"Everyone's supposed to leave their mark aren't they?"

"Maybe..."

"Well, maybe this is Dennis' eh? Maybe it was supposed to be like this."

"What are you saying saying, Sharon?" Vicki mumbled concernedly as she straightened.

"I don't know." Sharon confessed, her hunched shoulders relaxing only as she laughed weakly. "All I know is... I've just been told I'm pregnant when it was meant to be... oh I don't know. But I am, Vicks. I'm pregnant. Some twisted bastard up there's decided... I'm supposed to have a baby."

Yet it had felt as though Vicki was the only one willing to support her decision. So soon into her pregnancy, Sharon had been wanting to turn around and bolt from the place she had for so long been so adamant was her only true home. Because if there was one thing Albert Square could boast, it was its plentiful supply of gossips. Anyone with half a brain could have worked out that Sharon had returned from her own kidnap a pregnant woman. She heard the whispers, she heard every single one.

"Didn't think that Sharon could have her own..."

"Mmmm... terrible isn't it, the way it happened?"

"She's so brave."

"Not sure I woulda gone on with it like she has."

Sharon despised pity. That was all it was, and she hated it. Why should she be pitied when she had come out such a hideous time of her life with the kind of gift she had thought she would never know? She never said a word to confront any of her neighbours. She always kept her head down and kept walking. She'd learnt it no longer did to be so outspoken. Every action had a consequence, a price. And she felt that every day, knowing that her baby grew inside her for every day that went by, never to know their father. Because the baby in itself was all that was left of him. And as her stomach swelled, that was the thought Sharon clung to, never allowing herself to cry, even at the very worst of the whispers. They had started early and never gone away.

"I heard the poor girl was.... raped."

"It's awful."

When Vicki was with her, she always shot the offenders a venemous look, but Sharon kept walking, at such times determined to keep her head level, because she... and her unborn baby knew they had nothing to be ashamed of. They were a lonely pair was all. Sharon would curl up in bed at night, her cool silk pajamas feeling ever tighter in the early summer heat, and she'd hold her belly in her hands, stroking around the shape of her bump, whispering promises to her child.

"I'll always be here for you... I'll never let anyone hurt us. Me, you and Auntie Vicki against the world now eh?"

And sometimes the baby would kick softly back and Sharon could sleep with a smile on her tear-stained face, believing she had been understood. Oh, why did the tears come so easily in the darkness? Why did she allow it to frighten her and why... why did she have to feel so lonely?

Because of course, there was Vicki and there was nothing she wasn't prepared to do for her sister and baby. But Sharon hated having to put so much upon someone so young. But very quickly it became apparant that she had no-one else. Den had been a stranger to Sharon since the day she had left the hospital, her bruises barely faded and her resolve to see through this pregnancy as strong as iron. They didn't speak. They skirted round each other, living in the same house and yet hoping they'd never so much as meet on the landing if one was on the way to clean their teeth.

Sharon tried not to think what it was doing to Vicki, living in such a hostile environment and instead the sisters concentrated on the good things together. Like Sharon's first scan, hearing the baby's heartbeat so strong and clear for the first time. Sharon's hand had begun to sweat in Vicki's, but they clung together, crying unshamedly with happiness. And yet there was still that twinge that reminded Sharon that she'd never see Dennis' face, imagine him there, as amazed by the sounds, the promise as they were. And Vicki would notice the sadder moments and sit still with shimmering, willing eyes and wait, just for a whisper of whatever Sharon wanted to say. And usually it didn't take more than "I'm sorry, I just wish..." before the young girl understood. 

It was Vicki that came with her to all the antenatal classes, holding her hand and grimacing through all the birthing videos. But it was also Vicki that she would talk to her about her every fear and it was Vicki with the words to soothe her. Vicki was the one with ready anger when Sharon had none, too drained. Den refused to speak directly to his eldest daughter, but had made no secret of the fact he wanted her to have an abortion right up to the very last moment. Sharon defiantly reached five months pregnant, but just to see the fury and the disappointment in her once beloved father's eyes, Sharon felt more lonely than she ever had and yet she had no choice but to go on, because inside her, there was a life that depended on her completely. Vicki and the baby were all Sharon had left in the world.

Friday 23rd July 2004

10:15 am

And never was that one sad fact more apparant then at this exact moment. Sharon had been trying to ignore it since it had been just before eight that morning, scrunching her eyes shut tight in protest as she winced through the pain that tore through her stomach. She writhed on her ned, pleading in a pained whimper with her child to not hurt her so much. Sharon had never really dealt with physical pain. It was bad enough going to the doctor for holiday jabs, or worse, all the blood tests she's had to endure through this pregnancy. 

Fear beat agonisingly in Sharon's tight chest as she realised pregnancy in itself, oh it was nearly done. This wasn't indigestion, this... it wasn't stomach ache. She'd been trying to kid herself for hours that it was as she gripped her rounded belly, but no. Tears were welling in her eyes as they darted to and from the clock, out of her mind with pain as she wondered how long she had suffered. And at ten-eighteen, something terrifying and completely beyond Sharon's control happened. Her entire lower body, her bedsheets was suddenly drenched.

"VICKI!" she hollered frightfully, her throat raw with the effort and desperation of calling her little sister's name. 

"Sharon?" she called back concernedly from the foot of the stairs, having gone down to sneakily swig juice from the carton while her sister slept. "Are you OK?"

"Something's happening!"

Vicki's footsteps pounded up the stairs and she literally crashed through Sharon's door, her face fraught with panic. "What is it?"

"I'm... wet." Sharon whispered shamefully, her gaze flittering pointedly to her bottom half.

Smiling in bemusement, Vicki carefully pulled back the covers and immediately saw what her sister meant. Her back went rigid as she straightened up and said simply; "OK... those are waters." Then she turned towards Sharon, ready to help her up and grinned.

"What are you looking so happy for?" Sharon groaned, letting her head loll back against her pillows, feeling decidedly dirty.

"What, am I not allowed to be happy my niece or nephew's gonna be born today?"

"No, not when I have to give birth to them! It fucking hurts, Vicki."

She grinned still, forcing a reluctant Sharon to her feet. "It's only gonna get worse, sorry."

"Oh well, that's easy for you to say, I don't know how long this is... owww!"

"Not up to getting dressed then?"

Sharon shot her a dangerous look, seriously considering putting her hands around her sister's neck.

Vicki leapt back excitedly, hands raised in surrender. "Forget I said that. I'll tell Charlie we're on code red then I'll get your bag OK? You want anything?"

"Epidural." Sharon returned immediately, gritting her teeth through another wave of pain. "That's what I want."

Chuckling, Vicki ran off to go and grab her mobile from her room and let Charlie know that Sharon was going to need to go to the hospital at last. Oh, this had been a long time coming.

But all of a sudden, Sharon was filled with a gut wrenching fear as she tried to keep her back straight, planting her feet on the floor. She'd never done this before. It hurt and Vicki was right, it was only due to get worse. What if she couldn't handle it? Tears were already pouring from her eyes and she felt pathetic. But she was afraid and even with all the support Vicki could give, she was lonely.

Almost screaming in pain, she pulled herself up, lurching for the bedroom door, which promptly swang away under her weight. But she clung on and trudged out the door to the landing, weeping as she collided with Vicki. 

"He'll be outside, OK?"

"Does it look OK?" Sharon snapped through gritted teeth.

But Vicki was not easily offended or hurt. She was too damn excited. "Bag." she said, matter of factly, diving in to Sharon's room to grab the overnight bag that had been packed in preperation for the birth for the past 6 weeks. "C'mon then!" she sang out, offering Sharon support as she hobbled down the stairs in her drenched pajamas, cursing through the pain as she leant heavily against the banister. "Let's go make you a mummy!"

Sharon however, could barely note her optimism. Because Den was stood, as bad an omen as ever, in the hall, lifting his hands, stuffed neatly into his pockets as he paced.

"Dad!" Vicki demanded. "Door."

He looked at her blankly.

"Oh for God's sake!" his younger daughter said hotly, reluctantly leaving Sharon to go and iopen the door herself, throwing daggers at her father as she passed. Sharon however, without the support, was left to sink onto the stairs, leaning forward instinctively to ease the next wave of pain. As it passed, she looked sadly up at Den, searching for the disappointment, the anger... anything that had used to be there. But all that met her was the silence.

"Why don't you see me anymore, Dad? What did I do wrong? I'm having a baby... right now... and you can't even... you're not even gonna come to the hospital are you?"

He blinked.

"Well, fine!" she spat, heaving herself up again and almost tumbling down the last few steps had Vicki not bolted forward to hold her up again. 

"Sharon, we need to go... Charlie's waiting."

Swallowing down a sob, Sharon nodded and leant heavily against Vicki as they went across the hall towards the open door. But Sharon held her weight fast as they levelled with Den, her voice trembling with such angry misery as she looked into his emotionless face, so like stone. 

"This is your grandchild Dad, your first one! It's so innocent... how can you live with yourself... treating them like this? I won't let you do it. Not to my baby..."

Friday 23rd July 2004

4:45 pm

Sweat had matted her brow for the past six hours, her body felt ravaged and on the verge of shutting down she was so tired of such excruciating pain. But it was exactly that that would not allow Sharon to give up, even though she begged and pleaded as the tears poured down as if they were never going to stop.

"I can't!" she howled, her whole body like lead now even with just the effort of sitting up against her sister's support. 

Her young and dewey face was haggard now too, but that enthusiasm had never left her large bright eyes. She'd spent a lot of time in the delivery suite gripping Sharon's hand and urging her to do the same, never worried for the pain her sister could inflict upon such an invitation, her eyes more glassy with painful tears as she saw the agony someone she loved so much had to suffer for something so precious. Oh, Sharon had been suffering from the moment she had returned to the Square, supposedly a liberated woman, but imprisoned by her one-time friends perceptions and judgements of her decision to grant herself a purprose in a troubled life by giving birth to a virtual stranger's baby.

"Please don't make me push anymore..." she pleaded, shaking her head fierecely, her hair sticking to her face it was so drenched in a feverish sweat. Her lip trembled as sympathetic but empty faces looked back at her. "Please... you don't know how much this hurts. I can't... I don't want to do this anymore."

Sharon, slumping heavily against the little support Vicki could offer her, tried to breathe, feeling like her lungs had not truly known air for weeks this pain had taken her over so. But she was groaning, barely eased and terrified. She'd never known pain like this, and she'd truly believed that there couldn't have been anything else to suffer. She felt so naive. 

"C'mon Sharon... you can do this... you're doing so well!"

Because the moment her contractions had reached a level she was unable to bear, making her scream out and beg to be allowed to stop, however absurd her request was, even with Vicki gripping her hand so tight, encouraging her with every breath, there was but one person Sharon could think of.

Had Dennis been in this kind of pain? Had he had so many doubts as the agony took him over, to nothing, to nowhere? Had he wondered whether it had been worth it? Did he feel that he had suffered? Had he realised Sharon's cowardice in turning her back on him that day, and had he decided, even in his ignorance, that this was the way to make her suffer too? To have this unborn reminder tear her open from the inside, just to need her for every minute of every day of her guilt ridden and lonely life? Was her body's surrender a victory for Dennis', so long ago forgotten by anyone that might have discovered him?

Through the waves of pain, Sharon kept her eyes scrunched tight shut as she beared down, howling like a wounded animal, weeping and cursing as loud as she could. She tried to envisage Dennis ever being here, that... soft smirk upon his lips. But there was nothing and that made the poor delirious woman scream all the more. She knew she'd lost him, she'd felt it happen the very moment their child kicked excitedly inside of her. Little by little, the baby became less Dennis' and more Sharon's own. Just Sharon's. After all, there was no-one else to love this new innocent life and no-one could any more than the mother herself. What use was a dead father? Besides, the more she thought about, wishing she wouldn't, becoming more and more panicked during those sleepless nights in the darkness, that Dennis would never have wanted to be a father. That kind of man...

It had seemed to get harder and harder to defend Dennis' memory as the life inside grew stronger. Because the truth was... well, Sharon didn't know the truth. Dennis himself hadn't wanted her to know. She knew nothing of the man her baby would have called "Daddy", nothing that could ever have promoted that the baby itself was wanted or loved. Was that even something Dennis was capable of? Oh, such questions drove the overly hormonal woman crazy in the dead of the night, the pillow that she scrunched angrily in her fist usually soaked with even angrier tears before first light. Because it always came back to the same thing. All her questions would never have answers - Sharon and her baby were completely alone.

Except, with one last push that took all the strength Sharon felt she was ever likely to possess again her life; tearing her shattered body right down the middle as she unashamedly screamed above the shouts of encouragement coming from the midwife, and louder still, from Vicki; mother and baby were suddenly something different.

Because that first, lustful cry bouncing off the walls of the small, hot delivery suite, mother and...

"Oh... oh Sharon... she's a girl!"

...and daughter were together. At last.

Sharon burst into tears as the pain faded at a reluctant pace from her body, experiencing a great rush of simultaneous emotions she knew she'd never be able to dissect and understand. But still, the cocktail felt so good. It was over... and yet it had barely begun. Sharon had a baby. Her own baby. Relief... nerves.... anticipation... apprehension, it all coarsed through her. Vicki, stepping back, so eager to catch the first glimpse of her niece, let her quivering arms surround her exhausted sister and help her sit up against the pillows, so that she might see her baby girl for the very first time. A special, wonderous, almost unbelievable moment she couldn't wait to live.

The new life, a bundle of eager flailing limbs, a symphony of the angriest and yet the sweetest wails as she waved around her little angry pink fists. Everything that was...

"Angie..." Sharon whispered in wonderment, tears brimming in her eyes at the sheer beauty of her very own creation, laid down for the first time against the warmth of her mother's heaving chest, protected always by the embrace of her arms. A sob caught in Sharon's throat, her desperate eyes needing to take in every detail before they might disappear. The shock of dark hair, the tiny fingers, the perfectly set mouth, the little button nose.

"Oh Sharon..." Vicki beamed, stroking along the tiny hands in tearful awe. "...she's so beautiful."

Sharon nodded eagerly, but could not take her eyes from her baby. Her heart was beating a little quicker and she knew at once why. She'd never felt such love for any living creature so instantly. This little thing... her daughter... was suddenly everything she needed in the world.

"Hello precious... I'm your mummy."

8:35 pm

Angela Victoria Watts spent her first few hours of life in her mother's awed arms, nestled and warm in her blankets, her clothes soft against her skin, growing more beautiful every second as the angry pink colour died away to the most enviable peachy shade. Her entrance made, she was a quiet and content baby, and Sharon was unsure she could ever stop falling in love with her. Vicki, who had begun to cry again when Sharon had certainly told the midwife what she intended to name her little girl and proudly watched as the name was scrawled on the idetity tag and secured around Angie's tiny, wrinkled wrist; felt very much the same and couldn't stop hopping excitedly from foot to foot, grinning so wide it was as though her jaw might break. But even that wasn't going to stop her pleading for cuddle after cuddle from her new and favourite relative.

Sharon tried not to feel that tug of guilt or panic the first time she so reluctantly delivered Angie to her auntie's arms, but she did not take her eyes off the pair off them for a moment. As soon as such behaviour began she was chastising herself on the inside, hating that she was suspicious of Vicki, Vicki who had remained her only true support in this decision, but if Angie was never returned, how was Sharon ever to be sure that the baby was truly hers? It was for the sake of this one life that Sharon had left herself with little else. Without her baby, Sharon had no purpose and no place. Angela Watts was everything.

Her mother could have begun to feel lonely, tortured again by the delivery of the afterbirth and the sheer exhaustion that followed such loss of energy, but Sharon could not bring herself to close her eyes, too captivated by Angela's long thick eyelashes, the way her little chest pumped up and down, proving that at last, she was no longer a dream, but here and real. There were to be no other visitors that day. Sharon tried not to think on it. She was foolish to ever expected Den, she had never known his support or his congratulations. 

But again, as Vicki sloped off, duty bound to make the call home and alert their father to their family addition whether or not he should find it within him to care, there was someone else that Sharon could admit to missing. She bit it back however, even though Vicki looked at her a few times in a way that might have said she understood if only Sharon was brave enough to say the words. But that would have been too much and  instead, feigning tiredness and pulling Angela's little plastic cot over to her bedside before she snuggled down beneath the scratchy covers, Sharon softly asked Vicki to leave her alone with her daughter.

She felt guilty, but Vicki rose without complaint and surrounded her sister in a hug, kissing her goodbye until the morning. As she passed through the door into the harsh light of the world, that look of understanding came again. The door clicked safely shut and Sharon pulled herself up off the bed carefully, not wanting to reaggravate the pain of childbirth. She carefully lifted Angela into her arms, placing her on the bed against the sunken pillows and curling up protectively around her, almost relieved to feel her daughter lock her tiny hand but her fierce grip around one of her fingers. Smiling to herself, Sharon bowed her head and kissed her daughter's little hand.

"There should be something I could say now baby, but there isn't. I wish he was here... just to see how beautiful you are... to love you like I do. But your daddy... he's gone and Angie... if I knew where, I'd take you but I can't. Cos all I've got is you... and I swear I'll try and be enough. I'll love you for your daddy too, I promise. No-one's gonna hurt us now. Just us. Just us..."

Baby Angie was the only one that was unaware and therefore unaffected by the hostility in which she lived. Her mother had had tears in her eyes when she had first carried her new baby over the threshhold into her home, because it was almost as if she could already feel Den's disappointment and disgust in her for even daring to return here with such a... perfect creature? Oh why could Den not see that was what she was? Vicki had been stuck to their sides like glue, holding her sister's cold, ever shaking hand fiercely in one of her own all the while. She's reluctantly told Sharon how angry he was at the name she had chosen for her daughter, feeling that Angie's very birth, to such a father, even in his mortal absence, disrespected both Den & Angie as parents.

The words had cut at Sharon like a blade in her throat. But she refused to hear them. As soon as she'd taken her daughter home, seeing the cold look Den cast over the little baby writhing in her pink blankets, Sharon wanted to back out of the door and run. This was so different now. Angie was no longer a bump she could protect in her own being. Angie was her own person and Sharon was kept awake at night with the fear that she would no longer be able to protect her daughter. But there wasn't just Angie. There was Vicki... the very reason Sharon had never left this house, even in Den's hostility. Even if he could not care about Sharon anymore, Vicki still needed her dad's protection, because Sharon was never going to forget Jack's threat, she was never going to truly believe it was not meant, especially now that Angie... Dennis' daughter was here.

Sharon tried so hard not to think of her that way. Angie was still hers and hers alone. She had no-one else, she was Sharon's everything. Dennis was not here to share in the need to protct her, he had no claim. Just thinking of him, Sharon could not help but hold her snuggling daughter closer, momentarily terrified someone somewhere was going to tear her world from her very arms. 

But as time went by, Sharon got used to a normal life. Dragging herself up at 6 to sweep Angie from her cot for a feed, bouncing her up and down on her lap, telling her how beautiful she was and how much she loved her as she babbled so sweetly away. She got used to the hostilities of her home life and concentrated on the good in her daughter, sharing in every joyous moment with her little sister. But there was no denying how damn draining motherhood was. Vicki watched it happen and took action immediately. She expected to have a fight on her handss for simply suggesting she take her niece, by now three months old, for a walk around the Square. Sharon never seemed to be short of excuses to shout down such suggestions, but on this particular day, slumped, practically asleep on the sofa but for the flickering of her eyelids as she fought to stay awake, that she waved her daughter off to her sister's care.

Vicki rushed off, wanting to be gone before Sharon realised and therefore had no choice but to enjoy the time out being forced upon her. She struggled a little, carrying the folded buggy and her niece down the steep stone stairwell, but that was the least of her problems. In the three months of Angie's life, Vicki suddenly realised she had never mastered the unfolding of the buggy, there were way too many catches and clicks.

She paced round the crumpled structure, muttering and cursing to herself as she held the writhing baby, the process becoming no clearer as time crawled by.

One last half-hearted attempt at yanking the bloody thing together and she gave up with an angry, curse-filled yell, stamping her foot, which promptly caused the whole thing to collapse. All the commotion and volume unsettled Angie and really opened her lungs. Vicki was terrified as she tried to soothe her neice, thinking that with the volume Angie wailed she was going to wake Sharon, who'd come tearing out the house fully alert and screaming at Vicki to return her baby to the house. It was a bloody prison these days and Vicki wanted Angie out of there as much as possible. But what was she to do? She was helpless, screaming baby jiggling in her arms, with nothing free to put the bastard buggy up and finally escape this Square.

Vicki shivered gratefully as a man she couldn't place, came steadily out of the Garden and channelled a quizzical look in Vicki's direction. Recognising her helplessness, he dropped off the kerb and came towards her with a half smile on his lips. Without a word, he reached down to the collapsed buggy and pulled it up, wrenching it in all manner of directions until it clicked snugly, firmly into place. His smile too was firmer as he straightened up and gestured to the seat. Vicki felt her face flame, but smiled gratefully, jiggling a quietening Angie still against her shoulder.

"Oh God, thank you so much." she said breathlessly, with a small embarrassed laugh.

He shrugged. "S'no problem. It's that..." He casually pointed to the little red catch just behind the seat. "...one you gotta press in."

"I'll try and remember that." Vicki smiled with a small nod as she crouched down to deliver Angie to the seat and carefully strap her in. The stranger winced, rubbing his shoulder. Vicki frowned in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Battle scars, it's alright." he replied, with a light laugh.

"God, I thought I had it rough."

"Yeah well, can't be easy can it, not with your..." He eyed the colour of the blankets Vicki tucked up beneath Angie's chin and finished confidently, "...daughter needing you 24/7."

Vicki guffawed as she straightened up and gripped the handles, the wheels rattling against the kerb as she pushed forward. "Daughter? Oh God, she's not mine!"

Her companion's face creased in concentrated confusion. "She isn't?"

"No... bloody hell, I'm only 17! Angie's my niece. She's my sister's baby."

"Oh right!" he laughed airily, the lines relaxing. "It's just... I can see the family resembalance." He gazed between the baby and her guardian as he walked to Vicki's pace.

"Can you?" Vicki questioned, evidently amused as she leant over the buggy to gaze down at Angie. "Well, that ain't right."

"Why not?" he chuckled. "As babies go, that one's pretty cute."

Vicki beamed proudly. "She is, isn't she? But no, cos Sharon... that's my sister, she was adopted."

Her saviour almost stumbled up the kerb. "Sharon? Sharon Watts?"

"Well, yeah, I should hope so. Why d'you know her?"

Vicki watched him claw back his whitening lip. "Don't suppose I do, no. But that'd make you... Vicki, wouldn't it? Her baby sister?"

Vicki narrowed her eyes, fear and suspicioun prickling inside all at once and making her chest tighten as it swelled protectively. "Yeah." she said curtly. "And you are...?"

"So it was you that made all those appeals?" he pressed, ignoring her question. "With your dad?"

Pain reared now in Vicki's chest and she held on to the buggy tighter, her instinct telling her to walk a little faster.

"Vicki?!"

"Look!" she called back, knowing that he was gonna accelerate her pace easily. "We don't talk about that!"

"Does she?"

Vicki froze. He hadn't followed her. He'd stopped dead, several paces back and she could tell in his tone he was genuinely desperate to know. But something was making her neck prickle uncomfortably. She whirled round, unnerved by the shimmering of his pleading emerald eyes. She backed protectively up against the buggy and demanded; "You're one of them, aren't you?"

He fell back half a step, dumbfounded, his smile evaporated. His neck jerked as he shook his head. "Can I not just be a guy?"

Shaking fearfully, Vicki shook her head fiercely. "How can a guy just know what happened to my sister?"

He hunched his shoulders. "Any guy that reads the paper, Vicki."

"Oh, so what are you, a journalist?"

"No!"

But Vicki wasn't listening, turning round and pulling the buggy straight to wheel it off. "Well, I'm sorry, thank you for your help and everything, but I don't wanna answer your questions!"

"Vicki, please!"

"No! I don't even know you... what do you want?"

"I just... I wanna know she's happy."

"My sister is fine. She's got me and she's got her baby. Whoever you are, she don't need no reminders of Jack Dalton or anything that happened to her that week! Now please, leave us alone!" 

10:35 am

Vicki was still somewhat shaken as she sat, slumped in the café, rocking Angie back and forth across the same inches of floor in the buggy. Her cup of tea had gone cold long ago, but Vicki had barely noticed. She was still trying to fathom whether or not that whole episode had really happened. How did "nice guy coming to help out hopeless babysitter" suddenly turn into such a personal inquisition? Had he really been a journalist? Vicki didn't think he seemed the type and she'd dealt with enough that did all the while that Sharon was pregnant. None of them had even tried to appear helpful before firing their questions, and they'd been a lot more blunt in their lines too. This guy had seemed a bit... frantic. And he was right, enough stories had been run about Sharon and the promise of Angie's birth for anyone to at least think they knew the circumstances. But oh, they were trying so hard to forget. Angie was just an innocent baby, and the last thing Sharon wanted was to tell her daughter the exact circumstances in which she had been conceived.

On her better days, Vicki would still pass Sharon's bedroom and hear her murmuring to Angie about Dennis. Her voice was strong, but Vicki could never miss the waver. She began to wonder whether the details were fading from her sister's frazzled mind, whether or not she was making Dennis out to be better to her daughter, simply because there was so little of the truth to remember. It saddened Vicki, but it made her even more determined to keep her beloved sister and her precious Angie safe in some sort of normality.

Vicki's hand finally curled around her tea and she spluttered on the stone cold liquid, raising her gaze only as she struggled to catch her breath - and coming eye to eye with her non-journalist inquisitor. He smiled awkwardly and took a nervous step forward, obviously waiting for Vicki to leap up and go at his ankles with Angie's buggy. When he saw she did not move, he walked a little more confidently. His hand curled around the back of the vacant seat opposite her.

"Mind if I...?"

Vicki shrugged. "Free country."

A few moments silence overcame them as they sat together.

Then he decided to break the silence, tired of tugging so awkwardly at his hands, never finding the words he felt he needed.

"I'm really sorry if I... I didn't mean to freak you out just now."

Vicki softened a little, but needed to know; "So what do you mean? How do you know my sister?"

He clawed at his lip. "I'm not sure."

"How you not be sure? You either know her or you don't."

His gaze strayed to the buggy, where Angie was sleeping soundly. "People change." he mumbled pointedly.

"She's still Sharon." Vicki argued stubbornly, placing her hand on one of the handles. "She's been through a lot but she's still..."

He nodded acceptingly, lip quivering as he found he could not take his eyes from the baby. "She's a bit of a miracle ain't she? I didn't think Sharon could..."

"That summat else you apparantly read out the papers is it?" she demanded sharply. 

"She told me herself..."

Vicki slumped back. "Who are you?"

"No-one that matters." her guilty companion replied simply, shoulders hunched. "Sharon's been through a lot I know, but as long as she's happy with... her baby and..."

Vicki cut off his whispery contemplation with a shake of her head. "Sharon and Angie." she stated. "That's it."

His lips fell into a confused frown. "Well, what about...?"

"The father? God knows. Sharon thought they'd killed him."

The man reeled and, hardly able to look Vicki in the eye, mumbled, "I bet she did."

Vicki leant forward, eyes narrowed as she tried to fathom her company. "Where are you getting all this from? You're not a journalist, OK, but you know Sharon? How? I just don't get it."

"Trust me kid-" he answered softly, giving her a half smile as he looked up. "-it's better that way."

But Vicki was not convinced and fell into a concentrated silence for a while. Then her whole body jerked as she straightened up, as if she'd been struck by lightning, or worse, a cruel inspiration.

"Did you know him? Did you know Dennis?"

He kept his gaze fixed to the table, lazily drumming his fingertips against the table edge. They were promptly frozen as he absorbed Vicki's question. After a moment's utter stillness, he shook his head, almost smirking as he kept his gaze fixed down.

"So it's just Sharon?"

"Yeah. Just Sharon."

"Well, let me go get her. Tell me your name and-"

Vicki was already halfway up, moving out from behind the little table to grasp the handles of Angie's buggy, but her companion knocked back his chair just as quickly and lurched for Vicki's hand.

"She doesn't need to see me, Vicki."

Smiling slightly, she replied; "Don't be daft, I'm sure she'd-"

"Trust me on this one yeah? I shouldn't even be here..."

Vicki frowned, pulling her hand free. "So where should you be?"

He gave her a weak smile. "I ain't never known the answer to that question. Least she has eh?" And then he sank down into a crouching position in front of the buggy, pulling back Angie's ruffled blankets a little way to admire her sleeping face. "God, she's beautiful. What d'you say her name was?"

"Angie."

"After her mum right? I like it, it's cute."

"Yeah well, if you'll excuse me..." And she pushed a little against the handles to encourage the wheels forward. It took him a moment to compose himself and actually get up, but he refused to clear the way for her. 

"Vicki, please..."

"No!" she snapped back. "You're freaking me. Nice guy with no name knowing everything about my sister? It ain't right, so unless you're gonna tell me who you are and what the Hell it is you want, please get out my way!"

His shoulder sagged in defeat and he did move out of her way, straight out the door, a determined and sullen stride as he headed in the opposite direction. He did not look back, but Vicki however, slightly shaken, could not stop her own eyes tracking him as she steered her niece safely through the other side of the Square, towards her home.

~*~

His hands shook dangerously as he fumbled to lift the cracked receiver from the cradle. The worn piece of paper he had so viciously pinned to the noticeboard so that he might read off the numbers had obviously been unfolded and refolded a million times. The madness in his eyes made it easy to believe he in fact knew the number off by heart, but at the moment he was too staggered and too damn angry to recall it. He stabbed viciously at the digits, every key sinking obediently beneath his touch.

His stance too was agitated as the ringing tone gave out, muttering curses beneath his breath as he waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot, feeling himself get more and more furious. And that wasn't good. Such moods terrified him. He didn't know how to escape them when they descended. They controlled him. Everyone had been controlling him.

There was a familiar crackling on the line and he bit furiously into his lip, leaning heavily against the phone itself, propping his elbow up on the top and practically tearing his clawed hand through his hair as he registered the unwilling breath being expelled on the other end of the line. He knew well that this was the only recognition he was ever likely to receive, but now, that alone was enough to make his anger explode.

"You said she'd moved on, you bastard! You'd said she'd forget."

"She will." came the curt and quiet reply.

"Don't piss me about." he snarled threateningly. "I don't like being lied to Den and that's what you're doing!"

"And what are you doing, Rickman?" Den spat back furiously. "We agreed... Sharon gets on with her life and you never come back! Not here... not ever. Well?" 

Dennis was silenced, slumping heavily against the phone as he fought for the words. "I just... I wanted to know she..."

"Well now you do, don't you? You know! Happy?"

The anger rose once more, and Dennis rammed his fist repeatedly into the side of the cradle, not caring for the way his knuckles throbbed, too angry for anything besides anger itself. "Happy? How can I be happy? Why didn't you tell me-?"

"Nothing to tell!"

"Bullshit! Cos sometime this last year Den, your infertile daughter had a baby! And it's Auntie Vicki strolling around this miserable little Square with the kid. Where's the husband eh? Where's the great love you had me so convinced Sharon'd find? She ain't gonna forget me is she? It don't matter whether you want her to, or whether she wants to, cos that kid.... Angie... she's mine ain't she?"

Silence.

"Isn't she?"

"There's no place for you in Sharon's family, Dennis."

"Oh, shut up. She's got my daughter in that house!"

"And you should still be in mine. In Spain! Remember?"

"Fuck you!" Dennis hissed. "That kid's mine... it don't matter what we said, I should be with her!"

"Yeah?" Den questioned in callous mocking. "So when she's screaming her head off at three in the morning, you'll know what to do will ya? You'll know how to make her her bottle, to soothe her like her mum does?"

"Whatever, I couldn't never be no worse to that baby than you were to Sharon."

"You'll stay away."

At his cold warning, interest prickled within Dennis. "Still no better then Den? Oh and I bet I can guess why. Cos with Angie in your house, you never get away from me do ya, what I was to Sharon..."

"All you are to Sharon is a dead body, a nightmare..."

Dennis reeled angrily, not wanting to believe the likelihood of such truth as the handset, by now slippery with sweat, shook violently in his fist. "Well we've have to see about that one won't we?"

"I swear Rickman, you come anywhere near this house, I'll...."

 A humoured breath escaped Dennis' tight lips as he tore down the scrap of paper with the number on and scrunched it in his fist. "I'm sure you will, Den. Don't forget to smile when you open the door though eh, I'm on my way over now!"

11:40 am

Why did everyone seem so on edge? Sharon was pacing the lounge, warmed by the heat of the electric fire as she held her little daughter close against her chest, rubbing her back in that soothing motion through her rumpled pink romper suit. Angie was the most content of all Number 5's occupants. Den had sloped off, face like thunder when his mobile phone had rung, but Sharon had learnt long ago not to care, Angie her only focus. Well, unless you considered Vicki, and oh, Sharon was trying not to. She'd gone down to help Vicki lift the buggy up the stairwell, and Vicki, she'd been all over the place, hardly able to lift the blasted thing, flustered, agitated and weak.

"Darlin'?" Sharon had murmured in concern, leaving Angie in the buggy as it stood in the hallway, only able to grip Vicki's shoulders in her hands to keep her steady because her little sister was so reluctant to have her put her arms around her. "What's the matter? You've gone really pale... what happened?"

Vicki had shrugged her off lazily, mumbling; "I don't know." before rushing off to the kitchen on the pretence of "Angie needs her bottle."

And so the littlest Watts' had suckled hungrily at her next feed, one of the only things she had the power to ensure really relaxed her mother. Sharon fell more and more in love with her daughter for these times they spent together. She always snuggled down comfortably into Sharon's arms, never fussed, her wide and captivating eyes always open and shining so lovingly. There was a connection that needed no explanation, and in such moments, all the pain Sharon had suffered was worthwhile.

Right now, everything else was forgotten, mother and daughter left together in this, their own cosy little cocoon. Vicki had decided to pop over the road and catch up with Sonia, which Sharon supposed she could definitely do with. Whatever had shaken Vicki earlier when she had taken Angie out, Sharon hadn't heard a word of it, and she knew Vicki understood how she panicked, given all that she had gone through. They didn't keep secrets, and Vicki couldn't lie either, she was rubbish. So Sharon was forced to recognise that there was no need to panic, that all their was to do today was cradle her little Angie.

But her contentment was disturbed as she heard Den shuffle erratically in the hall, cursing hotly to himself as he seemed to make more noise than was possible gathering himself together. Frowning, confused and yes, suspicious, Sharon bent her knees, having stopped pacing so comfortably round with her daughter in her arms, and placed the bottle on the low coffee table before moving quietly over to the door, pulling it open and slipping into the hall. She didn't call out for Den's attention, she simply stood there, gently rocking her baby. She waited for him to notice her, and was more unnerved when he seemed to do just that in no time at all. She'd gotten too used to her father looking so disappointedly through her.

"Just off out."

His gestures too were erratic, and the way he was holding himself couldn't have made it anymore obvious he needed to be out the door. And just for once, the suspicion that burned inside Sharon didn't say he was so desperate to avoid her and the presence of little Angie. Something was going on. Another dodgy deal? Another run-in? Was Sharon really supposed to care quite so much?

She nodded jerkily, wanting to appear nonplussed. "Right. OK. Well, I'll... go finish the feed then shall I?"

"Yeah. Can't have the little one going hungry now can we?"

Sharon felt herself jolt, but she prayed Den hadn't noticed. He didn't say things about Angie, not now she was here, he was always too preoccupied with ignoring the fact she existed at all. Something was certainly wrong. But that was a separate world now, and not one Sharon could actively involve herself in with her own baby to care for. But still, when she heard the front door slam, Angie's cooling bottle held idly in her hand again, she couldn't help but be drawn to the windows. But before she could even entertain the idea of pulling apart the slats of the blinds to track her father, she heard raised voices - his.

"You're not coming near! I told ya-!"

"Get the fuck off me, this ain't your call!"

At that reply, Sharon froze. As her blood ran cold, her body went heavy and she was sure she felt Angie slip from her grasp a little. But to keep her hold was her maternal instinct; it was sheer madness that had her wrenching apart the blinds, the slats cutting into her fingertips in her haste. That could not have been the voice she had heard. It wasn't possible, it just-

But the image that met her sent her reeling, lifting her daughter closer, needing to protect this precious life as she mumbled to herself, trying to reason it all out. But she knew the way she had begun to shake so violently so suddenly proved her eyes had not deceived her and now there was only one thing she could allow herself to do. She rushed straight to the front door, her only free hand fumbling to grasp the lock and turn it so that she might stumble out onto the stairwell.

And still he was there, Dennis Rickman. No torturous figment of Sharon's butchered imagination this time. Really, truly there, and fighting his way past the angered barricade that was Den. In fact, they both looked furious... at each other.

Sharon could feel that old panic swirling desperately inside her. It was building and building and still she didn't understand it. Because madness itself was playing out before her very eyes. And madness itself didn't know it. Because Sharon was barely there to be seen.

Dennis shoved Den roughly back and yelled; "You mighta thought you were controlling me, Den, fuck I did too... you might be used to having a hold on your daughter. But not mine, you get that? Not mine!"

And as he whirled round, determined to reach what he now knew was his, those beautiful, lively eyes found Sharon, frozen at the top of the stairwell. And somehow, he was stunned just at the sight of her, falling back mid step, lips quivering as he fought for the words. Similarly, Sharon felt a painful lump swell in her throat, hot tears welled in her eyes. He looked so well... so alive... and she'd broken her heart for him. His was whole... still beating. And just knowing that was true, he looked more... more beautiful than ever. And the fact it was obvious he was so terrified to see her too was almost comforting.

Sharon didn't feel in control of her own body as she moved heavily down the stairwell, her filled eyes never moving from his. He almost flinched as she came across the damp pavement and slowed up in front of him. Bravely, she lifted Angie up against her shoulder and smiled.

"Hello Dennis."

He bit awkwardly into his lip, unable to trust himself to mean a smile he might return. Sharon half understood and, shaking still, turned to her furious looking father.

"Dad, take Angie inside will ya? She'll get cold out here."

Den didn't move, lips thin and angry as he glared ever suspiciously at Dennis, who was painfully captivated by the simple shape of the baby.

"Please?"

Growling beneath his breath, Den stepped forward and took his granddaughter in his arms for the first time. He carried her back into the house, glancing venemously over his shoulder at the pair left standing there in the dreary street, no closer, no further apart, silent but for the thousand words they might say if only the other's presence seemed real. The front door clicked shut and even that made Sharon jump and look nervously over her shoulder, hardly knowing if she had the nerve to turn around and face Dennis again. In contrast, he couldn't take his eyes from her. But it didn't mean the words were anymore available.

But they would have to talk, wouldn't they?

And Den, he was watching them for every second, having placed Angie hurriedly in her cot in Sharon's room and rushed straight back down to the lounge, wrenching apart the slats in the blinds as suspiciously as his daughter had done.

Still without words, it was all Sharon could do to shuffle forwards. In awe of her bravery, Dennis met her halfway and suddenly realising she was in touching distance again after so desperately long, he let out half a relieved breath and folded his arms around her. Her body seemed to drop forward willingly, head bowed against his chest as he drew her as close as he could, taking in the sweet scent of her hair, oh God, such simple things.

"It's so good to see you." he whispered. 

And he thought he felt her laugh weakly as she shivered in his arms, but a moment later, he realised... she was crying, hardly able to muffle the sound.

"Hey..." he pleaded as he pushed her gently back, tilting up her chin with his fingertips and taking in the sight of her flushed face, sparkling with tears. "...please don't do this."

Sharon flinched as he began to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb and pulled back and wiped them all away clumsily with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, you're right. Go. Just go!"

11:50 am

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Sharon tried to move past Dennis before more tears spilled over for him to see, but he was staggered by her request and couldn't let it be executed, reaching out for her elbow and pulling her back round to face him. "What? Sharon, you know I can't... we've got things to talk about!"

"Oh yeah!" Sharon laughed mockingly. "Cos I'm always standing round having conversations with dead men, I am! First my dad, now you!"

"That's not important!"

"Not to you! But then I shouldn't be surprised should I? You were the one supposed to be dead on the floor while I was breaking my fuckin' heart for you! And you know what, you look in bloody good health for a dead man! Where have you been?"

Shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, Dennis stared at the floor, guilt raging. "Spain."

Sharon's laughter was higher now, more strained. "Oh, this gets better and better this does. What you been doing? Working the bars, topping up your tan? Oh my God-" she fumed in frustration. "-you're just like him! Did you never care either?"

"Look, we can have this conversation a million damn times if you want, but please... don't do this now!"

"Well, what should I be doing?" she demanded furiously as the tears burnt still.

"Tell me about Angie."

"Why?" she pressed suspiciously, her watery eyes narrowed. "She's nothing to do with you!"

"No? Cos I seem remember this one time you threw the Morning After Pill at me because you couldn't get pregnant!"

"You had a damn nerve even handing it to me!"

"So I saw. The dates seem pretty shifty to me. I mean, you either watched me get shot and then asked someone, anyone around for a bitta an ego boost-"

He didn't seem fazed as he had to recover from the hard striking he got across the side of the face.

"-or she's mine."

"No!" Sharon argued, her stomach twisted with nausea. "Angie's mine! I carried her-"

"-you decided to keep her-"

"That's right." Sharon replied, eyes flaring dangerously. "I decided to keep my daughter because... I felt I owed you summat. Mind you, this was back when I thought you were dead."

"What, and now I ain't, you don't owe me nothing?"

"No, I don't."

"Not even time with my own daughter?"

"She's a three month old baby. My baby. You don't know what time is. You don't know how it's gone by."

"So tell me."

The softness of his tone was calming, however much Sharon wished it could infuriate her. But still she cried, the pain of every lonely memory swelling in her throat.

"The night she was born... I stayed up all night, talking to her about you, terrified if I didn't get it all out then, I'd forget. I brought Angie into this world, so I wouldn't forget you Dennis and its cost me everything I've ever known."

Sharon hated how Dennis didn't seem to look confused, only guilty. It made the tears come thicker and faster and her anger was not ceasing.

"My dad barely looks at me. He won't talk to me, but I have to stay with him in that house because of you, because of the evil you came from!"

"What?"

"When you... when they shot you, you were just... covered in blood, not moving and I... I don't know, I just wanted him to pay. For hurting you, for hurting us. But he said if I didn't keep my mouth shut about what had happened to you, he'd be after Vicki too. I've been trying to protect her and Angie from every danger since we came home. It hasn't been easy being me y'know, with Angie. The gossip mill didn't stop once you could see I was pregnant. Everyone worked out it'd come out the abduction and they all just assumed I was raped."

Dennis flinched, the colour draining from his face as his eyes locked on Sharon's.

"I wanted to say how it was between you and me, but it was hard enough looking my own dad in the eye, knowing I was going ahead and having the baby. He was so disgusted. He still is, and Angie suffers for it. Just now... that was the first time he's ever held her. He pretends she's not here, just because she's part of you and you... come from such a bad world. My daughter don't deserve to be tainted."

"And that's what I do is it? As her dad, through no bloody fault of my own, I taint her?"

"She's just a baby. She needs to be protected."

Dennis looked stung. "That's all I tried to do. You know that."

"But you failed me, Dennis."

"Why?" he demanded feverishly. "Because I'm not dead when you thought I was?"

Sharon swallowed down the rage and fought to keep her voice level as she shook her head. "No. Because while I was going through Hell, wanting to be left with a piece of you, you were on the other side of the world, not thinking enough of me to let me know you weren't dead. I grieved for you every day I was carrying her. Everytime I look at her, I try and pretend I don't see you, that I don't miss you. But what is there to miss Dennis? I don't even know you."

"Didn't I tell you that? Not worth remembering."

"You can't say that." Sharon protested tearfully.

"Why not?"

"Because I love you."

Dennis tried to dismiss her with a soft laugh, but found the sound was not true. He looked at Sharon and saw sincerity. And suddenly he was terrified, and couldn't say a word.

At his silence, Sharon shook her head in staggered disbelief. "Why are you surprised?"

"Well, you just said you don't... know me... you always said you hardly even liked me... how can you...?"

"Because they laid your daughter on my chest after God knows how many hours of the worst pain I have ever known in my life and said... "Congratulations Miss Watts, you've got a perfectly healthy baby girl." Something I was never supposed to have... something you gave me, and I looked at her... and I loved you."
  
He bit guiltily into his lip. "I'm so sorry."

Sharon shook her head fiercely. "We've already established you're not. After everything we've gone through for each other, you never thought enough of me."

"That's not true." he protested pathetically. "Why do you think I'm here now, Sharon? I was going... insane. I had to see you, to know that you were alright... happy, I don't know."

"You're a fool, Dennis, you know that? The day they told me I was pregnant was the day you were supposed to have been killed! Can you even imagine what that did to me? It tore me up inside because I... I didn't know how you woulda felt about it, what I was supposed to do. I didn't feel brave enough, Dad wanted me to have an abortion. Vicki.... she's been the only one willing to understand what I thought I was feeling for you. She told me to do what was right for the baby... your baby. And I thought she was the last piece of you. I needed you... how could I destroy her?"

He stumbled over the words. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't."

"But you don't know anything! You don't know her."

"Then just give me that chance."

"But I can't." Sharon insisted emotionally as her tears took a stronger hold. "She's my baby... I can't let her be hurt."

Dennis' facial muscles crumpled in confusion and hurt. "But I'd never-"

But the flare in Sharon's brimming eyes challenged him. "I don't believe you! You broke my heart and I'm not going to let the same happen to Angie, d'you understand me? My daughter is better than your promises!"

"You really haven't forgotten have you?" Dennis noted sadly.

"Didn't I say that at the time?" she bit back viciously.

He nodded. "And then you walked out."

"Don't you dare!" she shrieked painfully. "Don't you dare berate me for not being able to... I heard the gunshot you know! I heard it! And the silence was the worst. I was on the stairs, curled up like a baby, grieving for you! But I... I pulled myself up and went back to you, nothing but the guilt weighing me down! I held on to you for so long, but.... what with you being dead and all, you wouldn't have a clue about that would you?"

Dennis nibbled guiltily at his lip. "No."

"I thought I was going mad when I felt it, but it makes sense now don't it?"

"Felt what?"

All at once ashamed of the admission, Sharon turned her head away and mumbled; "I kissed you goodbye." Shivering, she stepped up and pressed two of her cold fingertips into the warmth of his neck, feeling his pulse humming away in his throat beneath her touch. "Just there. And that's what I felt. But Jack's lot dragged me away before I could convince myself there was even a chance. I thought you were gone and I thought it was my fault."

Dennis caught her hand as she pulled it back, holding it fiercely. "No darlin', no way. You didn't ask for it to work out like this."

"So why did it?" she pushed tearfully.

But the words caught in Dennis' throat. How was he supposed to tell her the truth?

"Why didn't you think enough of me to let me know Dennis? I've been here before you know, with my dad and I thought I understood. But just once you coulda come to me, put your arms around me and told me everything was gonna be alright. Why wasn't I worth that?"

"I... I woulda tried, but I didn't think that was what you wanted..."

Sharon fell back, her mouth agape she was so stunned. He may as well have punched her in the chest. "What?"

"I didn't know did I? About Angie... I didn't know what you were going through!"

"I thought they'd killed you, what do you think I was going through?"

And as she folded so miserably, choking on her sobs, Dennis held her close again, rocking her instinctively and murmuring into her hair; "I'm sorry Sharon, I'm so sorry. But I'm still here... and... it's gonna be alright."

12:00 pm

Taking in his words, Sharon straightened up and smiled weakly, tiredly shaking her head as she stepped back, hardly believing his touch. "I don't think so." she said sadly.

"Sharon-" Dennis pleaded, lurching forward for her hand again, but she backed out of his way, dropping down off the pavement into the pot-holed road.

"I said goodbye, Dennis. I don't have anything else to say to you."

He bit hard into his trembling lip, and Sharon could not miss the sparkle of tears in his deep eyes, although she pretended not to see.

"You never thought I've got more to say to you?"

She remained silent for a moment, before mumbling; "I need to get to work."

"What about Angie?"

Sharon whirled round, her eyes narrowed in suspicious contempt. "She's not your concern."

Dennis kept to her anxious pace easily. "You don't seemed that concerned yourself."

"Dad'll look after her." she snapped back.

"Yeah? This the same dad you said don't hold her, look at her, bother to recognise she even exists?"

"Back off!" Sharon growled warningly, twisting her hip to face him and force him back with her hands, angered enough to push him quite roughly. 

Dennis took the shove, but his features were icy as he straightened up and returned; "Alright, I will. But I ain't gone Sharon, no way."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she stepped ahead of him, by now desperate to be halfway across the Square and away from him. "Course not - you never were." But the words seem to ignite something within her and she stopped, whirling round in accusation to face him. "Do you even know what it's like to grieve for someone?"

He blinked, a little stunned, as if the question was too much. But at last, he said quietly; "Miss 'em you mean?"

"Yeah." she replied softly, hardly believing he had chosen to understand what she meant. "Cos I spent every day feeling so sick that I... oh it doesn't matter." And waving her hand dismissively, she turned away and began to walk off, too tired to try and make sense of whatever it was she was trying to say to him.

But he called her back. "Will you even let me say I missed you too?"

She puffed out a doubting breath and hunched her shoulders. "Why bother when it's just a lie?"

"You don't believe that."

Sharon's glossy lips twisted unfavourably. "Don't tell me what I believe! Don't you dare! Cos let's not forget Dennis, I believed you were dead and here you are, looking bloody good for it! Have you never even thought about the last time I saw you? I have nightmares, I wake up crying harder than the baby, thinking I shoulda done something different, put you outta your misery when you asked! But I see now I did the right thing cos you... you've been keeping yourself warm on Spanish coastlines, never once thinking I deserve the same!"

"You don't know what I think." he shot back defensively.

"I don't think I ever have. How well can anyone really know you, Dennis?"

"Well enough to give birth to my daughter it seems."

"Angie isn't your daughter."

Reading the fire in her eyes, Dennis fell silent as he contemplated her words. But it wasn't long before he understood her defensiveness.

"What d'you think I'm gonna do Sharon?" he questioned with a soft interest.

She laughed bitterly, stroking intrusive strands of hair from her eyes. "I don't think I've ever really known the answer to that question have I? I'm just the woman you miraculously got pregnant... the one you lied to."

"You think I wanted to do that?"

"Yes." she spat, without hesitation. "Since you're asking, yes I do. I was the one with the guts to climb over that barrier, Dennis, I coulda let go! But I didn't, and I didn't because of what you said to me! And I bet you don't even remember!"

"Of course I remember!" he snapped hotly, guilt colouring his neck. "I said I'd go with you, alright, I know!"

"So why didn't you? Can't you see what we coulda had all this time?"

Guilt silenced him heavily, as if he were gagged.

Sharon tilted her head and let her devestated eyes travel lightly over him. "Maybe that don't suit you eh? Your own little girl, and some ridiculous woman that can't stop herself loving you even though you... oh God, I don't know what you did." She wiped her brimming eyes. "But I know I hate you for it." In a tearful whisper she added; "She had her daddy all along.... how could you?"

"I didn't know."

"Well, now you do, don't you?" she retorted angrily. "And you're not having her... not ever!"

Dennis shook his head in confusion as he tried to step closer to her. He saw her lurch back, but managed to grip her shoulders before she was out of reach. "Why are you so sure I wanna steal her away?"

"Because you never cared what I wanted. She's mine! She's only ever been mine and you are never going to do this to her too!"

He sighed as he let his hold drop, licking his lips nervously as he stared at the ground for a moment. Then, the will summoned, he lifted his head and those piercing eyes locked on Sharon's filling own. "Darlin', if you don't trust me to do right by that kid then tell me, why'd you have her?"

"She's my baby..." Sharon replied in a tearful whisper.

"Mine too. But you knew that long before I did. If you really think so little of me, then why have you given your life to my baby?"

All Sharon could manage for several moments was a whimper.

"I... I wasn't ready...."

Patiently, Dennis counted the silence away before he decided to push. "For what?"

Sharon's neck jerked, and she looked hurt as she looked straight at him. Dennis shivered inwardly, certainly getting the feeling he was already supposed to know.

"To lose you. You made sense to me. Angie was the closest I'd ever get to that again. I can't lose her too, I can't!"

"You won't! Sharon, I don't know the first thing about babies... what are you expecting me to know about my own? I just... I wanna... be here. I'm not gonna steal her, I just wanna know her... the both of you."

Sharon's bottom lip trembled as she listened to him, rather desperately insisting; "You mustn't hurt her."

And Dennis' protest was ready in his throat, but as he opened his mouth, he seemed to choke on it. Because he suddenly saw in those beautiful eyes, as panicked as he had ever seen them, he realised Sharon wasn't just commanding him, she was speaking from the experience of being hurt so badly by someone she had pretty much been forced to trust. Him. He'd... broken her.... torn her life apart, just so's she might hold the memory of their one turbulent week together in her arms and sense a future. The woman was a devoted mother... devoted to his daughter no less. Did he really have the right to ask for more.

Slipping his fingertips beneath her chin, he tilted it up and bravely pressed her lips before bowing his head against hers, his shivering hands sliding to hold her jaw and force her to stay against him. He felt a regretful lump swell in his throat and sway his voice dangerously. "Just once darlin' please, believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Gasping for a breath of air that was not quite so sharp, Dennis turned away, barely knowing where he was going to go, but understanding in Sharon's hurt that Den was right - this family held no place for him.

But Sharon was suddenly feverish for one more moment of such closeness, just so she might really remember its realism, her wrecked brain throbbing to discover a reason to stop another separation. She was left with one solution, which is called out in a desperate gabble.

"Don't you want to meet your daughter then?" 

12:10 pm

Slowly, carefully, Dennis turned around, almost convinced already that he had heard her wrong. He smiled daringly and replied shakily; "Course I do."

Sharon stepped back and came up the kerb. "Well, c'mon then." And as she went past him she pressed her hand into his, gripping it tightly. But Dennis hung back, shaking a little.

"Are you sure.... really?"

"Not about me Dennis." she replied simply. "It's about her. If you're really here, then she deserves to meet you... know that at least some of the things I told her about you are true."

Amused, Dennis smiled. "You ever know they were true?"

Bowing her head, Sharon giggled to herself, before she turned her head and looked back at him. "I believed 'em, yeah."

Accepting this, Dennis looked to the ground, releasing an uneasy breath.

"You're nervous aren't you?"

"I feel so stupid..."

"Well, don't. Babies are scary prospects. I'm sorry I never gave you the choice."

He said nothing, but found he couldn't help but hold her hand a little tighter, even as she dropped into a crouch at the top of the stairwell and recovered a front door key from under the mat. She pulled herself up again and pulled in a brave breath as she pushed open the door. She could feel Dennis' resistance.

"C'mon..." she urged softly, holding on to lead him through to the lounge. Den was stood by the window, facing them, looking as stony faced and disgusted as ever.

"Where's Angie?" Sharon questioned bravely, never releasing Dennis' hand.

Den ignored her, his angry eyes narrowed at Dennis, his vicious words directed at his daughter. "What the Hell do you think you're doing?"

"She's got a right to meet him, Dad."

"She doesn't need him."

"That's beside the point. Whether you like it or not, he's her father. And I think you both need to deal with that." Feeling still how Dennis was shaking, she dislodged their hands and turned to him with a smile. "Sit down. I'll go get her."

"No, don't wake her u-"

But Sharon dismissed him with a simple shake of the head. "She's not gonna mind when she sees it's you. Really."

She went off up the stairs. Den listened to her rushed footsteps and stepped forward. "She's only humouring you."

Dennis returned a tight smile, shoulders hunched. "She can do what she likes. Whereas you.... you're never gonna get away from it, are ya? The fact that Angie's my daughter... the fact Sharon never even tried to deny it."

"She despises you."

"Yeah, I reckon she does. And I don't blame her either. No, I blame you and if Sharon ever knew the truth-"

"I did it for her!" Den snarled warningly.

"And what about Angie, eh? You've had a year Den, and you've never said a word. D'you know what it was like turning up here and realising your Vicki was pushing my daughter around in a buggy? Mine?"

"You weren't ever supposed to turn up here!"

"Well I'd say it's a good job I did." Dennis hissed. "Cos you can't do this to her anymore. Angie's here cos Sharon wants her, and you ain't punishing them for that."

Hearing the stairs creak again, Dennis stepped back and tried to busy himself with any occupation that didn't involve the immense need to rip out Den's throat.

"Here she is." Shron announced softly, forcing the lounge door further open with a nudge of her hip. Flinching, his heart beginning to pound so damn nervously against his ribs, Dennis whirled round, somehow taken aback by the sight of such a tiny little being, his daughter, nestled in Sharon's arms. She levelled her head and smiled across at Dennis, evidently amused. "You don't need to look so scared... she doesn't bite yet." Stroking gently through Angie's mop of dark hair, Sharon knew she'd cause the baby to stir further, but soothed her easily as she began to grizzle, by stepping closer to Dennis and murmuring; "Look who's here, angel..."

Summoning all his nerve, Dennis looked down on the baby again, and felt a jolt in the centre of his chest. Because for the first time, he was looking at her, knowing he saw a part of him that Sharon had wanted so much to keep alive. She'd said it herself, he'd been the one to give her something she thought she was never going to have. And something so innocent, so beautiful, knew nothing of the worst of him. In this one, untarnished life, there was some real hope.

Den wasn't willing to share in such a tender family moment, and casting dark looks over all of them, stormed from the house. Dennis felt the intense pull of hatred simmer in his chest as he watched Sharon shudder, but she held on to Angie and refused to let anything spoil the moment she had long ago been so convinced she would never see.

"...Daddy."

Dennis spluttered on a nervous laugh as he reached out to touch his daughter for the first time, his fingertips replacing Sharon's dancing through her hair. And he felt so stupidly amazed by even just the texture of it, so fine and so silky. How could something so small reall seem so perfect when it was indeed part of him.

"That sounds so..."

"I know." Sharon replied simply, apparantly not fazed by Dennis' nerves. "But there's not really anything else I could call you. Not once she was really here to talk to."

"When was that? When was she born?"

"Oh... July twenty-third. So she's nearly four months really."

"She's so...."

"Yeah, she is."

"She looks like you."

Sharon laughed gently. "Only first thing in the morning. I think she looks like her dad. She does the smirk and everything."

Dennis couldn't help but laugh. "I just feel... like it ain't real you know?"

"Yeah well, if you ever find yourself pregnant, you'll know what it felt like being me won't ya?"

"Fair enough. But I... don't even know her name."

"Yeah you do. She's Angie."

"Has she got a middle name?"

"Vicki."

"As in your sister? I, er... bumped into her earlier."

Sharon smiled knowingly as she gently rocked her daughter. "That why she looked so pale when she came back?"

"Probably." he answered guiltily. "Didn't tell who who I was or anything but she got pretty close and I... I didn't think you'd wanna see me so-"

Colour crept into Sharon's face and she concentrated on baby Angie as she mumbled; "I've been waiting a year to see you..." But then she caught out the corner of her eye how intently he was looking at her as she spoke and so she lifted her head and cleared her throat, voice swaying nervously as she asked; "Do you want to hold her?"

He blinked, a little stunned. "You don't... mind?"

Smiling dreamily, she shook her head. "Just... answer me one thing. Where's Jack?"

Dennis couldn't helped but scowl, repulsed by the memories such a question evoked. "I don't know." he answered flatly. "And I don't care."

"But we have to!" Sharon insisted anxiously. We're all here now.... me, you... Angie! And if you've still got anything to do with... if you're living in any kind of fear, I need to know. For all our sakes."

Features softening, Dennis shook his head again and held out his arms expectantly. "I'm safe." he assured her quietly. "We all are."

Sharon nodded feverishly and carefully delivered  Angie into her father's arms.

"She's.... so small."

"Oh she isn't. Eight and a bit pound when she was born."

Dennis looked up in interest. "Is that... good?"

"It's painful." Sharon answered, nodding even as her grimace softened into a smile. She reached over and let Angie wrap her little hand around her finger. "We really coulda done with you, y'know."

"If I'd known..."

"You'd have run a mile." she finished, laughing. "It's OK, really. Maybe it's best you had no choice eh? I'd never be without her."

"No, I can see that. You suit each other."

"What's that say about you and me eh?"

"It don't need to say anything. I don't think you need me, not really."

"Isn't that for me and Angie to decide?"

Dennis smirked as he fawned over his daughter, her bright eyes fixated by his features. "She's a baby, what's she gonna have to say about it?"

"Plenty." Sharon whispered teasingly as she stood beside him. "Look.... she likes you." And she pointed out how Angie's smooth, pink little lips formed a wide, gummy smile.

"She's probably got wind."

"No. Angie's a smiley girl... aren't you baby?"

As she gurgled, Dennis grinned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Aren't you going to say hello? She's been waiting a long time for you-" Turning his head, Dennis gave Sharon a doubtful look, but she promptly coloured, hair spilling down around her face as she looked down, hardly able to look Dennis in the eye as she mumbled; "We both have."

He bit guiltily into his lip and refocussed on his daughter's mesmerising face, nerves rising in his stomach as he fought to find the words, the first words he was ever going to say to an innocent little life that was all his creation. But somehow, he felt ridiculous and undeserving, still not believing that this beautiful little girl could truly be his.

"Hello darlin'." he murmured, feeling that apologetic lump swell in his throat, making him choke as he fought to say the words. "Little birdie tells me it's my lucky day. Cos... I found your mummy. And she... hasn't really lamped me yet..."

Throwing her a half glance, he almost felt relieved as Sharon quietly chuckled and assured him; "There's still time."

"But she should, cos I let her down. And I don't wanna do the same to you, Angie. I don't really know how I can be so scared of someone so small, but I am. I'll try and be good to ya, darlin', I swear. Have to be don't I? I'm your dad."

12:25 pm

Angie seemed very content in her daddy's arms. In fact, she let him pull her this way and that, lifting her up, spinning her around, all because so very soon he was so very amazed by her. Sharon saw it happening as it must have done between herself and Angie. She saw him falling in love with her, and it made her even more sure that their daughter was perfect. Oh, how Sharon's stomach lurched when she realised she was so cautiously looking upon Angie as Dennis' daughter. She'd always known it of course, but she'd never really thought she'd see the truth of it play out in front of her. Angie had been hers alone and she'd always been so fiercely protective, knowing that if she lost her, she had nothing. But Dennis was right, she had to learn to trust him. She had before, and she found that she couldn't help but find herself doing it all over again. He was here, and right now that was enough. She couldn't stop smiling, and it was then she realised how very long it had been since she had truly meant it.

"D'you... want anything?" she asked gently.

As Dennis froze, Angie was bemused at being left suspended in mid air in his arms. "Sorry?"

Sharon laughed anxiously. "Well, I have to go and get madam here try and take more of her bottle, so I can make you a coffee if you want?"

He shook his head. "No, you're alright- but I..." The words trailed off, but somehow Sharon could see they mattered to him and she stepped closer.

"What is it?"

And for the first time since they had met, Sharon realised something. He looked embarrassed.

"Would it be OK if I fed her?"

Grinning, Sharon spread out her hands in defeat. "If you think you can, be my guest." Seeing how he bit nervously into his lip as he refocussed on Angie, she turned towards the doorway to head towards the kitchen, but called back gently; "You're her dad, Dennis. You don't need my permission to take care of her alright?"

But the worried look was still there as he looked up to acknowledge Sharon had entered the lounge, Angie's bottle in her hand.

"It just feels that way, y'know?" he explained as he carefully took the bottle into one of his hands. "It's you she needs, not me."

"Not true." she replied with a smirk, stroking Angie's head as she dutifully latched on to the filled teat that Dennis tilted to her lips. "Every girl needs her daddy."

Raising his gaze to her face, silence fell over them both as Dennis noted how she avoided meeting his eye.

He sank back carefully onto the sofa, finding it was his instict to hold Angie's little body tighter as the impact came. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been anywhere near a baby... he didn't even like them and yet, the need to protect this little one was almost... instinctive. That was good right?

It'd been like that with Sharon and Dennis still barely understood why. But Angie was Sharon's daughter, surely the pull to protect her came from that, never mind that she was his too. Dennis had never really had anything of his own, so now to believe it was real was mind-blowing. And God, he was so scared that he'd go wrong, just cos he'd never known what was right and then he'd lose them both. And he was so in awe of both of them. How could something so damn small suddenly seem so beautiful? He'd always compared babies to puppies. Wrinkled, uninteresting, not much to look at and certainly not worth the effort. But Angie's beauty obviously didn't come solely from her mother.

"I used to look at her like that." Sharon noted lovingly as she settled herself on the edge of the coffee table, facing them.

"Can't take my-"

"-eyes off her." Sharon finished proudly. "I know."

"I've missed a lot, haven't I?"

"Not really. She's only just becoming her own person."

"How d'you mean?"

"Well... she loves pink. Anything... toys, scarves, earrings. Smiles her head off when I'm trying to work out what to wear in the morning. Don't seem to share my taste in music though. Not a Spandau fan."

Dennis grimaced, apparantly in agreement. "Spandau Ballet? Jesus, what you trying to do to the girl?"

Sharon laughed and protested; "I'm trying to balance out all the emo rubbish she gets subjected to thanks to her auntie."

"Hey, I'm with Vicki."

Smiling, Sharon nodded in acceptance, but let go of a half gasp of fright almost as she asked; "Can I tell her who you are?"

"Have you got any choice?"

"I hope not." she replied coyly. "You'll... stick around, won't you?"

Dennis stared at her. "You think I'll do a runner, don't you?"

"I don't know what I think. And I'm sorry but I don't see what you left me with."

"I'm sorry."

Sharon sighed. "And I want to believe you... for her sake." Her gaze became fixed upon Angie. "But it's gonna take some time. You just... have to be willing to wait on me, that's all."

He smiled weakly. "I can do that."

"I know." she answered, returning his smile as she leant forward. "Is she asleep?"

The smile widened as Dennis looked down. "Looks that way."

"Well, look, give us the bottle here, and I will go make you summat." She took the bottle and pushed herself up from the low coffee table, picking her way across the room to leave for the kitchen again. But laughing in gentle silence, she shrank back a step from the doorway, in love with the image of Dennis snuggling against his tiny daughter, to stroke her smooth skin, smell her silky hair, every little thing Sharon couldn't get herself over when her little miracle was first born.

"What's up with you?" Dennis asked in a humoured murmur, seeing how her lips were set so serenely.

"It just occured to me how unconventional we are."

"How d'you mean?"

"I mean like... I've had your baby and I... don't even know how to make you a coffee!"

He couldn't help but laugh, quietly of course, not wanting to disturb Angie. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah it does." she argued cheekily. "What am I supposed to say when she asks about the little things?"

"Tell her to call me."

Sharon smiled gratefully. "Do you really think you can do this, Dennis?"

He clawed back his whitened lip and after a moment's contemplation, shook his head honestly. "Not really. But you went ahead didn't ya? There ain't no reason I can't at least try and give her the same."

Beaming as she stroked hair from a face, Sharon strode back and casually leant in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you..." she murmured, rushing back out before she was forced to register his reaction, scared of what it might be.

But on her way across the hall, she collided in the hall with Den, who had just slammed back through the front door, looking as sour as ever. Sharon squeezed past him and went into the kitchen to tip the rest of the milk from the bottle and down the sink. She watched the thunder play across Den's face from this distance, never trusting him. He looked from her, with a wordless accusation towards the lounge.

"You'll leave them alone." Sharon called out firmly.

"He's still here then?" Den spat.

Sharon's stomach lurched as she watched him charge through to the lounge. She raced after him and had to fight to throw herself into his path, barely managing to shield Dennis as he stood, cradling their daughter.

"You can't change this, Dad. He's her father. He has rights!"

"No, he doesn't!" Den roared, lunging forward.

"No!" Sharon yelled, terrified Angie would be hurt upon contact. 

Tears were sparkling in her desperate eyes as she fought with all her strength to hold her father off.

"Dad, please. Angie deserves this too... she needs him." Her lip quivered as she pressed on. "Don't you remember what it was like for you and me?"

Den blinked, recognition obvious.

"Well, that's what I want for them." she insisted tearfully. "I want them to love each other so much that-"

"That what you're calling it, Den?" Dennis questioned bitterly, holding his wailing daughter, awoken by her mother's screams protectively against his chest. "What you did to us? That's love?"

Sharon felt her father lurch furiously again and she struggled to hold him back again. "Dad?" she questioned desperately, her filling eyes searching his face. "What does he mean?"

"Yeah, go on Den. Tell her what I mean."

Sharon turned around frightfully, shuddering as her eyes met Dennis'. She could sense the hatred, like when she had heard them yelling at each other in the street. Den had left the house seconds  before that disturbance. Had... Had he been expecting Dennis?

"Dad-" she shivered, turning again. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing." Den snapped venemously.

"Oh yeah-" Dennis scoffed. "-cos it's nothing to pretend you're six feet under i'n't Den? How many years you play that one again?"

"I don't understand-" Sharon protested, feeling as if her head might burst.

"I'm sorry darlin'." he replied regretfully. "But it was him."

"What was? Dennis?"

Regretting his outburst, Dennis bit into his lip as he soothed Angie, rubbing circles in her back. But he found now, he couldn't take his eyes from Sharon. "You think I didn't wanna go with ya. And you're wrong. I just thought I was outta choices. I never thought this'd... that Angie'd happen. But darlin'.... you thought I was a goner, cos Den here convinced me that you'd be better off thinking that... thinking that. I believed him... I ain't never made a bigger mistake and I'm so sorry."

Sharon suffered with several long seconds of delayed reaction as she struggled to take in Dennis' words, shoving her father lightly back as she lost the will to hold on.

"You mean... we coulda been together?" she asked quietly, hardly able to control her shaking.

Dennis looked guiltily down, mumbling against Angie's tiny shoulder. "Yeah."

"And that... that was what you wanted?"

"Yeah."

"But instead... you let him..." She whirled round in a fury, almost knocked off balance by the force of it, and glared venemously at her father, a fury filling her like she had never known. But he was not worth her time, Dennis' confession was all she could deal with right now and so she faced him again. "...convince you to leave me... when I needed you the most? How could you do that Dennis? How?"

"Sharon, I-"

Glowering, Sharon threw her hair back across her shoulder, lifting her chin defiantly as she held out her arms. "Give her to me!"

Lip quivering, he held his daughter closer, feeling her tiny heart beat as she cried harder, so unsettled by all this ill-feeling. And her daddy felt so responsible... and so guilty.

"I just-"

But Sharon wasn't interested. "Give her to me!"

He made no move however, and Sharon threw herself forward, wrenching her daughter's tiny body from Dennis' arms. "No, Sharon, please, not when she's-" And the wrench wasn't just physical. Dennis felt it in another way, and he'd never known a pain like it. It felt immediately as though something was missing. 

He had no fight left within as Sharon hissed; "You're right. We don't need you. We've never needed either of you! Get out!"

12:40 pm

Sharon didn't hang around to see them both leave. She held her daughter closer, unsettled by all this movement and raced up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut, falling awkwardly back against it as the wracking sobs took her over.

"I'm so sorry baby..." she whispered miserably into Angie's soft mop of dark hair as she choked. "Your mummy's so sorry. She's been such an idiot." Feeling hardly better for this emission, she let the crying, painful now, take her over. She flinched frightfully as she heard the door slam. She considered trying to pull herself up, but found that her legs had gone dead beneath her. Not wanting to endanger her baby, she didn't move, rocking Angie gently instead.

She did not see how Dennis half stumbled from the house, unsure as to how he had made it all go so wrong so damn quickly. He supposed it was just the fury of seeing Den, his one and only link to what had been, around Sharon and their own daughter, knowing that Den had deliberately denied Dennis all knowledge of what was his. He hadn't meant to hurt Sharon... oh, he'd had long enough alone to consider how the truth would hurt her, but...

Hating himself inwardly, he turned back towards the house and slammed his fist furiously into the stone pillar at the bottom of the stairwell. He felt the thin layer of skin on his knuckles scrape back, and it stung, but he didn't even care enough to wince, he was too fucking furious. What he'd said to Vicki had been right, Sharon had never really needed to see him. And Sharon had been right too. Missed him, she might, but she didn't need him. She never had. She'd done alright on her own. But it was Den that had made it that way and that just made him all the more angry. 

His one chance... and he'd blown it. Not that he really knew what he was meant to do with it in the first place. Angie was some tiny, innocent, totally dependent thing, what did Dennis know about anything besides unintentionally, yet naturally wreaking havoc on every life he'd ever been present in. He and Sharon had shared a turbulent week, that was all. But it'd been enough to leave her with a piece of him she was never gonna let him appreciate. And maybe that was all he deserved. He was not the kind of man that could have been any sort of father, but he knew he could have been more than Den had proved himself without even trying.

Hot tears blinding him, Dennis walked away, barely with the energy to hold himself up as he went, not knowing, not caring where he was going, because, could he really leave... now? Den had not followed him at Sharon's furious request. He'd stayed inside the house, looking as smug as anything in the hall. He'd betrayed his daughter, her daughter and yet, there he stood, assuming he'd kept his place despite her fury. Dennis could only hope he was wrong. There was nothing he deserved more than to suffer as much as it seemed he had made Sharon. Dennis hated how Sharon had left him with no choice but to leave Angie because now, he doubted he'd ever see her again. He knew there were no rights to be had after what he'd done.

1:10 pm

Having shushed her daughter to sleep, Sharon lay her down in her cot, tucking the thick blankets protectively around her little body. Then she staggered to the bathroom and splashed cold water over her tear-stained and blotchy face, moaning quietly as she caught sight of her sorry reflection in the mirror on the medicine cabinet. Her footsteps were heavy as she went down the stairs, gripping the banister hard with her soaked palms. Her legs felt weak and nerves stirred in her stomach as she levelled with the lounge door and found it ajar.

She should have known her father would not have the decency to leave her. Scowling, she pushed at the door and moved inside. Den, sat across the room in the recliner, the many lines of his face deeper than ever as he set in deep contemplation. Catching sight of his hunched daughter in the doorway, the recliner rocked as he fought to straighten up. Sharon ignored him and went across the room, sinking heavily back against the sofa and fumbling with her hands.

"Why d'you do it, Dad?" she mumbled after a long and heavy silence. She lifted her head, her wide, bright eyes sparkling with more tears. "Why?"

"I was trying to protect you." he answered calmly.

"From Dennis?" she pressed in disgust.

"Exactly, from Dennis!" Den nodded, his tone a little more aggravated now. "The man's scum, Sharon."

"He's the father of my child!"

"For all the good he'd be to ya both."

"No..." Sharon argued tearfully, shaking her head fiercely. "You didn't see him with her! He wants to be good..."

"But he won't be. He won't ever be. And you know why? Cos he's Jack's man, always has been, always will be, and you and Angie don't need that kinda danger!"

"No! Why don't you get it? He was gonna let them kill him!"

"Didn't though did they?" Den threw back smartly. 

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare! You've watched me Dad, all this time... grieving for him... thinking I'd left my little girl without any chance of ever knowing her own father! And where was he, eh? Tanning himself in your fuckin' villa. That ain't just cruel Dad, that's beyond sick."

"Really? You think so? Cos the state I found him in, it wouldn't have taken much to finish him off. I could done that... would you have preferred it?"

"No! No, of course not!"

"I saved his life!" Den added sternly.

Guiltily, Sharon hung her head, unable to stop herself mumbling in reply; "You've taken mine instead."

"What?" he shrieked in disbelief, rolling his eyes. "Sharon, how can you be so ridicu-"

Her slender neck jerked, her pretty but saddened eyes narrowed with venom. "How dare you! I'm not ridiculous! I'm the only one out of any of us that has any damn sense! What d'you do, drag him off the floor and tell him to back off?"

"If I had, he wouldn't have heard me, he was barely alive."

Sharon's stomach twisted with nausea, pressing her hand to her mouth. "What, so you patch him up and ship him out out the kindness of your heart? You were stealing him away from me!"

Tilting his head back, Den scoffed dismissively. "He didn't take much convincing, Sharon, believe me!"

"There is nothing to believe!" she returned hotly. "He'd just been shot Dad, he'd have agreed to anything."

"He knew he had nothing to offer ya."

"Except our daughter."

Despite her stubborn argument, Den shrugged his shoulders lazily, not even seeming as though he cared.

"Where d'you get off on controlling my life, Dad? I'm a grown woman, I make my own decisions."

"Yeah, and look where that got ya. Mistake after flaming mistake!"

"No! My baby is not-"

But Den sat calmly back, his cold eyes surveying her panicked face. "You sure, Sharon? You don't look it."

"You know what she means to me, Dad." she returned sadly, hurt by his words. "You know how I felt about him."

"It was him you shoulda had convinced my girl, obviously didn't mean all that much to him did you? But I think you knew... no-one can mean anything to animals like him."

Throwing him a venemous look, Sharon wrenched herself up, hissing; "I hate you for this Dad, I hate you so much."

And though the man looked stung, he pursed his lips and returned; "Somehow, I'll live."

Sharon stopped dead in the doorway, halted by her repulsion. "I know you will." she spat viciously. "You always did. Only I didn't know that either did I?"

7:40 pm

But even in her fury, Sharon was soon regretting her decision to leave her father, whom yes, she was certain she now hated, in charge of caring for the child he refused to hold a regard for... to hold even. But she couldn't make herself go back to that house, the intensity of the ill-feeling beating as heavily in her chest as the pounding music was through the hot, cramped club. She needed to be anywhere but that farce of a home. But still, all a mother could do was worry. Hours had gone by and she'd thrown herself into the rush of work that had always been her trade, almost grateful that as ever, it was there and perhaps the only thing left that was truly hers.

She even managed a few smiles as she got into the swing of bantering with the punters like usual. She almost felt normal - until she turned round and saw him there. She stopped dead behind the bar, three Buds and a Manhattan cocktail wavering in her hands, narrowing her eyes to make him out in the shadows. He was there alright. Dennis, st comfortably in the shadows, sipping what looked like a quintuple vodka! Flinching as he appeared to meet her eye, she spun quickly away, almost bumping into Joel who was restocking the bottles in the fridge. 

Pushing himself up, he declared; "All done boss."

Sharon smiled weakly and Joel frowned.

"Hey..." he said softly. "...what's up?" And he squinted in the direction Sharon's troubled gaze had been caught.

Gingerly, she set her hand down on his arm, stepping close and murmuring feverishly against his ear. "Don't let him leave."

His lips straight, Joel hunched his shoulders and nodded, replying; "You're the boss. But... why?"

"Cos the bastard deserves to suffer."

Joel laughed and got on with whatever jobs called for his attention and when Sharon wasn't looking at Dennis, pretending she wasn't of course, then Joel was, making a point of always been ready to serve him.

 Slamming down his ever empty glass, Dennis craned his neck around the barrier that Joel created and observed; "Your boss ain't very sociable, is she?"

"Just you she's got a problem with it seems." Joel replied brightly, replenishing Dennis' glass with a flourish.

Dennis only offered a tight smirk as she swept up the drink. "Oh, I know she has mate, don't worry."

He reappeared at the bar a few more times as the night wore on, and he'd never catch Sharon's eye. So he gave up trying, watching her intently without wanting to draw her attention, which worked like a charm cos he soon realised she couldn't keep her gaze from him, suspicious.... venemous, but still definitely on him. Not that that was gonna sort anything. So Dennis tipped the burning liquid to the back of his throat and left the glass empty upon the bar top, pushing his way out of the crowd. Sharon jolted as she realised his movement and rushed out from behind the bar, completely abandoning her easy and idle conversation with some nameless, meaningless bloke that had been propping up the bar all night.

"Sharon?" Joel called out blindly.

"Just watch the bar!" she yelled back, never slowing up and really having to fight her way through the crowds, mumbling barely meant "Excuse me... thank you"s as she elbowed people in the ribs to pass them. She tore up the stairs and stumbled out into the freezing cold winter night, twisting wildly this way and that as she searched for him. Fury flared again as she caught sight of his form. How dare he find it so easy to walk away?

She chased after him, her heels clacking on the potholed pavement and she jerked his elbow roughly to pull him round.

Dennis couldn't pretend he wasn't surprised cos he was. But he knew to expect the fury in her eyes as she glared so angrily up at him.

"That's it." she spat. "Get up and go, don't say a word! Wouldn't be the first time would it?"

"I guess not."

"You owe me an explanation." she pushed dangerously.

Turning his head away, Dennis' cold burst of laughter mocked her. "What d'you think I've been doing in there all night?" he demanded, glancing pointedly back towards the club. "Enjoying the ambience?"

"Don't try me, Dennis."

"That isn't what I'm trying to do, you stupid bitch!"

"Oh yeah..." Sharon bit back sarcastically, nervously licking her cracked lips as she nodded furiously. "...that's me alright!"

Wincing at his own inarticulacy, Dennis looked awkwardly down. "Sharon, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Well you should." she said sharply. "It's true. I am a stupid bitch. Stupid enough to think that you-"

"I never meant to hurt you, I swear!"

"Well, you did!" she shrieked, hot angry tears spilling over. "You... You let me tell you I loved you before-"

"I didn't ask you to say that."

"I didn't ask to mean it! But I do, y'know that? And now I don't know why. I just don't know what it is about you that I really thought was worth-"

"Because there isn't anything." he cut in firmly. "Really."

Smiling weakly, he turned away, ready to move off again, bu Sharon reached for and pulled on his hand, drawing him back and letting her smoky breath chill the crook of his neck as she whispered miserably; "I want to hate you so much."

Dennis almost managed to laugh, but instead nodded sadly, confessing; "You'll never hate me more than I hate myself."

"Because I don't know enough. Just give me the truth, Dennis. Please! I need the truth."

8:00 pm

Not really able to do much besides nod, knowing that what she was asking was the very least she deserved; Dennis seemed to know in Sharon's very wordlessness what he was meant to do. For if he was here and she was too, then that left Den at home with little Angie, and there would be nothing he could do if the newfound father saw him there. Violence had never answered anything for him. All he could do was trust Sharon. So he watched her as she turned away, shuddering a little against the cold as she spluttered on her tears. Guilt kicked as the distanced between them grew, filled by the dark, miserable night. Her footsteps had just about faded away when he began to follow her too. Not too close, but never allowing her form to leave his view. He stopped on the other side of the rain splattered Gardens, watching her rush through, head bowed against the pathetic pitter-patter of the a new shower.

Heavily, she climbed to the top of the stairwell. Her shoulders relaxed a little, but her expression could not as she glanced around, looking almost gratified when she didn't catch sight of Dennis himself. He realised he had done right, keeping his distance. he thought he understood, watching her eagerly as she turned her key in the lock and went silently into the house.

The wait was lonely, but thankfully, it did not last that long and Dennis' anxious heartbeat settled. He couldn't however, stop fury beating within his chest as the front door slammed shut again, this time after Den. He looked as disgruntled as ever, but Dennis didn't care. He had never realised it was possible to hate someone you could not know so damn much. But he did, more than ever. He was willing him away, while he still held the nerve to go up to number five and hope that Sharon still required that explanation, if only to be rid of the guilt. It was all that had kept him company in this last year. He almost despised the truth of his absence more than he did Den, and it was Den, and his own damn weakness that he blamed so completely.

But he summoned all his nerve as Den disappeared into the shadows of the night and dropped off the kerb before stepping up the other side and ascending the dampened stairwell, raising his shaking fist to rap on the door, completely disregarding the knocker. But the door was pulled gently open before he could claim to have made a sound. Sharon sank back, looking a little afraid it had to be said.

"Come in." she said tiredly. Dennis almost felt guilty for obeying, not able to move out the way quick enough so Sharon might close the door. But it didn't seem to bother her. She moved past him without a flicker of emotion, and into the lounge. Dennis stood anxiously in the doorway, staring at her reflection as she stood in front of the mirror above the mantle. Her hands reached up around the back of her head, gripping the bulldog clip that had secured her hair to her head for a whole shift, perhaps a double. As she loosened it, her golden hair tumbled down the back of her neck. She shook her head gently as her hair spread out across her shoulders, perfect curls at the ends. It was something so normal, so innocent, and yet Dennis was having to bite hard into his lip to stop himself blurting how beautiful he considered she looked. It had no place.

Sharon let the clip land on the low coffee table with a clatter, still moving around Dennis as if he were not there. But, easing off her black Stilettoes, and promptly sinking a good four inches into the carpet for the pleasure, Sharon turned towards him, as if it were an afterthought as she kicked her shoes in the direction of the shoe rack beneath the stairs.

"Go through..."

But Dennis hesitated, reading the tiredness on her face. "Are you sure?"

She nodded certainly. "Mmmm." she told him distractedly. "Just... give me a second."

And he caught the way she was looking so anxiously up the stairs and he knew instantly what she was desperate to do. He moved forward, but she jumped defensively in the way.

"Go through." she repeated a little more firmly.

And however reluctant he was, Dennis had to relent. He was after all, the one in the wrong.

He went through to the lounge and sank heavily on the sofa, just waiting, listening. To Sharon's light footsteps across the floorboards of the landing above him, the creaking of a bedroom door, even lighter steps. And he knew, oh he knew he was right. Because though he heard her murmur, she spoke so gently, so quietly, there was only one her words could have been intended for, and Dennis was being forced anyway. Again, he felt lonely. His own daughter was up there and he, as ever... was too far away.

But he wasn't alone for long. Sharon left Angie so silently, he barely heard her come back down the stairs, surprised to see her come silently back into the lounge, smiling weakly as she passed him and headed for the drinks cabinet. She clanked around with the glasses and the bottles, but managed to turn around with two tumblers of a good measure of a strong whiskey held in her shaking hands.

"Take it." she said stubbornly as she held one out to Dennis. "We'll need it."

He couldn't even humour the truth of it, casting his guilty eyes into the bottom of the glass as Sharon sank down next to him, her feet tucked up beneath her. She felt a little too warm in the heat of the room and the thickness of her smart jacket, but she could not help but shiver as silence overtook them. So much to say... with no nerve to say it.

"I thought you wanted to talk." she pushed awkwardly after a painful minute or two, dragging her hand through her hair as she leant back.

"Yeah well... I'd have thought Den had plenty to say to ya."

"Of course he has. He's my dad, he always has. And now I wanna hear it from you too."

"I don't think I-"

Sharon pulled the glass back from her lips. "Don't tell me you can't. Don't. You have to give me something... something to tell her..."

"But it's not about Angie is it? It's about..." He hesitated. "...you and me."

"I thought you were dead. You... You let me think that! And if you ever thought anything of me, you'd have said... something wouldn't you?"

Dennis leant forward a little, placing his glass down on the coffee table, looking thoughtfully over at Sharon. "You don't think I wanted to?"

"Well you didn't."

"I thought you'd move on. No-one told me about Angie. I was relying on your dad, Sharon."

"Yeah. You have been for quite a while it seems. Dennis... did you- when I- did you feel it?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. I wish I had, but-"

"But I'd... walked away. Is that all you remember?"

"Yeah." he confessed, feeling guilty for doing just that. "But... whatever I said... you did the right thing, you know that?"

Sharon bit hard into her lip, shaking her head desperately as the tears brimmed. "I let you down."

"No. I was asking summat that was impossible, something that could never be you."

"How does that matter?"

"You know how. There was Angie."

"But I didn't know that." she argued, drinking deeply. "And nothing you or my dad say can make any sense, because when they told me... that I was pregnant... I had the shirt off your back in my hands."

"I know you did." he answered quietly.

"What? H-How can you know that? How can you know it came to me?"

Dennis' lip trembled and his voice wavered. "Because your dad said... it was the only way to make you really believe..."

Her facial muscles scrunched instinctively in disgust. "He planned it? You... let him?"

"Sharon, I'd just been shot, I was out of it, I'd have let him do anything!"

"What made you believe he was right? Why didn't you believe in me? Is it because I left, because I couldn't do it?"

"No!"

"Then what made you hate me so much, Dennis? Tell me!"

"I don't hate you!" he told her, a little louder than he intended as his frustrations built. "But darlin', he's your dad. Supposed to know you better than I was ever gonna. I had no-one else to believe and he... he saved my life."

"No he didn't." she spat venemously in reply. "That's what he wants you to think, so you owe him... so you'll stay away, keep to what he made you agree to! But you must know you don't really owe him anything or you'd never have come here, you'd never have wanted to see me."

"Are you kidding?" Dennis pressed doubtfully. "The thought of you is all that's kept me going. Going quietly crazy with it I reckon but... it didn't matter. No-one was gonna care."

"But I do." she insisted emotionally, pulling herself up. "And I've tried to make myself stop, thinking I... I don't know-"

"Imagined it?"

"Did I?"

Half smiling, Dennis shook his head. "No, darlin'. Was real alright."

"Can't have been." Sharon surmised sadly.

"Why not?"

"Because you devestated me. You and my dad.... the man that's supposed to have loved me all my life, deliberately lied to me."

"And I'm sorry. Sharon please, if he'd ever told me about Angie, I woulda-"

"Don't lie." she cut in dismissively. "C'mon Dennis, do you even know how many kids you might have?"

"What kind of question's that?"

Sharon hunched her shoulders. "A valid one. I mean, you can stand there, tell me we really felt something for each other and what... I'm supposed to believe that you've spent the last year moping around my dad's villa, guilty as Hell and living a life of celibacy instead of picking up girls when you were working dodgy bars every night?"

Nodding knowingly, Dennis' lips curved into a half smirk as he got up and moved over to Sharon. "Mmm-hmm... what you really mean to say is "Bet you slept around to pass the time" right?"

Sharon's beautiful yet stormy eyes flared. "Well, did you?"

"What's it to you?"

"What's it to me?" she repeated dangerously. "Hours and hours of childbirth and the proof to one day tell my daughter her dad was a good man and not just some selfish, lying, mindless, violent arsehole."

Dennis laughed quietly, nodding in approval as he met Sharon's eye. "Oh that's good. I like it. And you know what, you're right and well within your rights to tell Angie that. Only you won't."

"Oh, I won't?" she challenged.

But Dennis shook his head simply. "No. Cos you don't believe it. I know you want to, but you don't. If you really did... you'd have no reason to be crying right now."

Affronted, Sharon hastily wiped her filling eyes, reluctant to let him see her weakened.

"You'll be worse for Angie than you are for me." she pointed out spitefully.

"I believe that even if you don't."

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Because I've always slept round Sharon, never cared, got it easy. But I'd never want to inflict myself on another human being. I always knew no kid deserved that curse. And yet... Angie, she's got you. And we mighta only had a week Sharon, but I know I know you better than anyone I've ever met. I know she's got a chance cos she's part of you too. Don't ask me to be sorry she's here, cos I ain't. And don't try and make mean her any less, cos she don't. There's only her and however much you wanna hate me... you know she's all that matters."

"But I thought we had a chance too. But even if you coulda walked outta there... it never really existed did it?"

"Would you want it to?"

Sharon's laughter was high and forced as she mocked him, spinning unsteadily round in disbelief. "Do you really think I woulda put myself through all this if I didn't? My own dad treating me like I had some... dirty disease just cos I was gonna have her, when all the time, he had you on speed dial and I was walking round, thinking how selfish I was, making Angie be born to one parent. Why d'you have to make me feel like that if it wasn't true?"

"There isn't an answer to that, Sharon. I'm sorry."

"And what's sorry supposed to do, Dennis, huh? What's it supposed to make us think, Angie and me? That we'll see you in another year... two? Is it supposed to make us believe you care?"

"If you think I don't then you ain't remembering it right."

"Well, obviously." she returned bitterly, looking him up and down.

"Sharon, for God's sake! I know I hurt you, but you know I felt something for you too."

"But what was this something?" she hissed demandingly. "Cos you know what Dennis, in all the time you've had to come up with the best, most elaborate you possibly could, I don't think you knew what it was yourself."

Dennis shrugged. "No, you're right. I didn't. Still don't think I do. And that terrifies me."

But Sharon scoffed dismissively, turning round to refill her glass, her hands now shaking with fury. "Nothing can terrify the likes of you."

"You're wrong." he replied calmly.

"Oh of course I am." Sharon spat, unscrewing the whiskey. "That's all I ever been. But c'mon, surprise me. Why am I wrong?"

The heavy burden of silence descended again, casting out awkwardness for its every passing moment. Sharon shivered still, the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably as she waited. She could tell in the uneasy pattern of Dennis' breathing, a sound she would not long ago have given anything to hear for the sake of her little girl, that he was preparing himself, panicking maybe.

"Because I think I love you."

8:15 pm

Sharon slammed down the whiskey hard, whirling round, her eyes narrowed contemptously. "You think?"

He nodded awkwardly.

"Why can't you know?" she demanded.

"I'm not like you." Dennis pointed out rather desperately, in a quiet cracked voice, finding he could not look her in the eye. "You can't expect me to understand it. It's all... new."

"And my heart bleeds." Sharon fired back sarcastically. "There ain't no two ways about this Dennis, you either do or you don't."

"Does it even matter to you?"

"Me? God, no, why should it matter to me? I'm just the woman, what? Stupid enough, naive enough to think there was something in carrying your daughter inside me for nine months?"

Dennis closed his eyes and counted away his anxious breaths.

"Stop trying to make it about Angie. You know it ain't."

"I know nothing!" she snapped. "You made it that way."

"I know." he replied placidly. "And you hate me for that, I know."

"What you're doing... it's cruel, y'know that? I don't think I could ever have known you, but I still know how I feel. Why say anything if you don't even know?"

Dennis shook his head dismissively. "You don't get it. I do know. I know I love you. But I don't know how. Don't look at me like that, you remember it just like I do. You really think I'd ever really cared about anyone before in my life?"

Stubbornly, Sharon shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Oh, you know. C'mon Sharon, what about Jamie? What about the French guy? I didn't care about anyone, I never had, that was the way. And you... you fucked me right up."

Sharon balked defensively, but Dennis leapt in again before she could spit any venom at him.

"There ain't no use in feelings if you don't understand 'em."

"What are you expecting me to do about it?"

"Nothing. Not if you don't want. I'd understand. But I.... I just want a chance, to be something to you and Angie."

Sharon glanced awkwardly into her lap, biting into her lip. "You're Angie's dad. I can't change that."

He nodded in acceptance and edged closer nervously, pressing; "What about you?"

Though she tried, Sharon couldn't answer. Hands shaking as she tried to hold her glass, she got up from the sofa, turning away before her tears could be seen. But Dennis had not missed the way she was shuddering so tellingly and carefully got up to go and stand behind her, his thumbs stroking away her hair from her shoulders as they rested there.

"Hey..." he soothed anxiously. He pushed gently against her shoulder to pull her round. 

She stood in front of him, her feverish face tear-stained, and her shimmering eyes hardly knowing where to settle as they searched his face. He felt her stretch up onto her toes and the next thing he knew he was holding her so tight against him, her shaking arms wound tight around his neck.

He released a soft, warm breath of relief against her shoulder, stroking down her back with his hands as he held her. "Oh... darlin', please don't cry..."

But still she shuddered. "This wasn't fair."

He laughed nervously, holding her tighter, so relieved to have her against him. "Tell me about it. I swear, Sharon, I won't ever-"

But Sharon pulled back, pressing her fingertip lightly to Dennis' rough lip, shaking her head sadly. "No promises. I can't take that again."

Dennis closed his eyes, needing a second to absorb and understand her words. His reply was instinctive, like a pull in his gut. "I'm so-"

But Sharon raised her fingertip again, this time smiling as she shook her head. "No more apologies." she said softly. "They're no good now."

She lowered her gaze and Dennis felt nerves dance on the floor of his stomach. Still he held her, too terrified to let her go. He was sure he heard her laugh, but the soft sound had died before he could even make himself look at her to recognise it. And by the time he did look at her, something happened. Something that was nothing. Something that was everything. Her eyes, so captivating as they sparkled, weren't leaving his. And there was simply no way he could look anywhere else.

He couldn't explain why he was so surprised to feel Sharon's lips against his, because to her, it obviously seemed natural. And although he could not help but kiss her back, he felt selfish. But still, he could not let her go. He'd hurt her so much and he knew no other way, in his desperation, to make her see how sorry he was.

It seemed however that Sharon barely cared. Now that she had summoned the courage to do all she needed, she lost herself to the fact she need torture herself no longer, for he was here, no figment of her shattered imagination. He was as close as he could be. His warmth against her anxious body, his taste, was all real and he... he meant it to be hers.

But as the kisses became deeper and more frenzied, a needy wail sounded from above them. Sharon groaned lightly against Dennis' lips as she broke off from their kiss, stepping back from him.

"I'll go..." Dennis offered gently, but as he took a step towards the doorway, Sharon, although smiling, stepped in his way, reaching for his hand.

"No. Let me go... please?"

Awkwardly, he hunched his shoulders in submission, letting her pass.

Sharon pounded up the stairs. Dennis couldn't help but edge out into the hall and quietly climb the stairs, stopping halfway and leaning against the wall as Sharon's soft soothing murmurs reached him.

"Oh.... angel, shhh-shhh-shhh. Not gonna make this easy on Mummy are you? Don't you know Daddy's still here? Never thought he would be, but he is. Haven't got a clue what's gonna happen, but he wants to- oh baby... maybe you do too eh? Alright then, shhh-shhh."

Smiling to himself, Dennis went up the rest of the stairs and followed Angie's wails. He pushed open the door and stepped anxiously into the room.

"Is she OK?" he asked, frowning in concern at his furiously red baby daughter.

Sharon glanced at him over her shoulder as she rubbed Angie's back, answering fretfully; "I really don't know! She's not wet, she shouldn't be hungry and I-" But she silenced herself and fell back on her heel, turning to face Dennis fully, smiling. "I think maybe... she just wants her daddy."

Although Dennis smiled in return, he only did it to humour the suggestion, doubting it utterly. But he could not stop Sharon moving forward and placing the bawling baby girl in his rigid arms. He held Angie as carefully as he could, suddenly feeling more nervous than he had in his life before. Because this was not just a baby he could disregard and hand back. She was his own, and maybe... maybe he was needed. He couldn't be selfish enough to truly assume that Sharon could do it alone if he really was there!

Angie's crying was silenced, and her eyes, as captivating as her mother's, locked on Dennis, confused by the transition.

He laughed gently at her surprise as he smiled down on her.

"Not gone yet, darlin'. No. I think I'm gonna stay. Give your mum a break from all that crying eh? What's it for?"

Angie let out a confused sounding syllable that this time made both her parents laugh. Glancing suspiciously between them both as she lay in her father's arms, Angie seemed to realise the sound was alright, and gurgled as her little lips took a happier shape. Sharon drew in a breath, a mesmerised gasp.

"She likes you."

"Well, that's alright ain't it, cos I like her."

"She'll need you y'know."

"And I'll be here." Dennis assured her softly. "Might not be any good at it, but... I'll be here."

8:40 pm

Sharon wasn't ready to believe Dennis when he so readily said he could be no good. Because she watched him, soothing their fretful daughter back to sleep, and she was enthralled. It was incredible to watch, because, yes, she had doubted it too, but oh, how she had wished to see it. And now it was playing out in front of her, and she knew she was falling in love. Angie's tiny body was spooned so comfortably up against the plane of her daddy's chest, and he seemed to hold her so tenderly, as though he was terrified he might break her. Sharon almost wished there was room enough that he might hold her too. But she fell back against the bed, unable to stop herself smiling so dreamily as she listened to him shushing Angie, whispering that he had hold of her, that he'd keep her safe, even though he seemed convinced he miight drop her.

But Sharon believed him implicitly, her heart swelling at the sight of the two of them together as she might have wished so long ago. He was no longer a threat. There was no closeness to be lost. He was part of the most important being in Sharon's life, such a huge part of the picture she had thought she would never see.

Assured that Angie was asleep, and looking bashfully proud of the very fact, Dennis laid her carefully down in her cot, tucking the blankets up beneath her chin. He straightened up and turned round slowly, a half smirk rising in the corner of his mouth as he caught the way Sharon looked back at him.

He dropped his hands nervously into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sharon felt herself flush pink. "You don't know how good you are, do you?"

 "I only got her to sleep."

"That's no mean feat, believe me. She's kept me up all night before now."

"You haven't... been on your own, have you?"

She shook her head. "No. Vicki... she's been a godsend. She loves her so much. And she..."

"She what?"

Sharon smiled coyly. "She understands why Angie's here."

Though he smiled back, Dennis shook his head as he stepped forward. "You didn't do it just for me."

"No. That is true. I'm infertile remember? Thought it was my only chance. But I had her cos I didn't wanna miss you." Then she paused. "OK, so why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's just... weird. Knowing it was the same for you."

He sank down on the edge of the bed and Sharon straightened up, smiling gently as she scooched closer, eager to press his lips again. 

Though he couldn't help but kiss her back, enjoying her taste, he pushed her gently away and advised her; "Don't force anything you don't want."

"I can't believe you just said that." she returned with a soft laugh, which Dennis didn't quite understand and frowned in confusion. "You, Dennis. Someone I swore never to even like, much less love."

He bowed his head and played idly with her hand, gently stroking her fingers apart. "They're different things... and you don't have to feel either of them just cos I'm here."

"Yeah." Sharon whispered in reply, shaking her head dismissively. "Cos memories really woulda proved better on their own, right Dennis?"

"Well, that wasn't what I was saying but... yeah."

"No." she retorted firmly. "It's different now. I don't have to convince myself of things that weren't real cos you just told me they are. And that's all that's gonna matter to our daughter too."

Dennis shuddered a little at her last few words and calmly pleaded; "Don't trust me with too much."

Sharon was bemused. "What?"

"Our daughter?"

"Well, she... is."

"Yeah I know. But you're right to be protective. Like you said, I don't deserve to call her my daughter."

Sharon frowned, at a loss. "I never said that."

"But you wouldn't let me say it would ya? And you were right. Besides, it sounds too... I'm not even a decent person, I can't expect to be called a dad too. Not until I know I won't let her down."

"I know you won't."

But Dennis gave her a placid look. "No you don't. Where have I been, Sharon, what lies have you been told?"

She looked away. "Stop it. Dennis, stop it, it's done!"

"Yeah, but you tell me it don't still matter?"

"Of course it does." she mumbled, feeling pathetic for it. "But who can change the past, even when they want to? It's gone."

"So what, we look forward, pretend it's all gonna be alright?"

"We'll make it alright!"

"But what if I can't?" he demanded, voice cracking a little with the desperation.

But Sharon shook her head. "You have to. You just do. Blame me if you want, but you've got a little girl over there that's gonna depend on you for everything you've got. Nothing we can do about it if you really are here. Maybe this ain't what you wanted, but this is who you are now. Shock to the system or whatever.... I coulda told you a year ago if you'd let me."

He nodded gently. "I've had worse surprises."

"Yeah." she said distantly, pulling herself up and hovering over Angie's cot. "I bet you have."

Dennis was sensing somewhere that somehow, something was the matter and he hated the idea that after he had done so much wrong that he might have upset the one person to matter to him any more. Silently, he pushed himself up and went over, his hands placed gently against her shoulders, stroking across the blades before letting soft kisses follow the path of his thumbs. He felt Sharon's shoulders and instantly relax. 

Her hand was cold as it stroked tenderly across the base of his neck, but her touch was enough alone. She turned slowly round, pushing her arms all the way around his neck and firmly kissing his mouth, in a way so passionate, it was doubtful she'd ever draw back. But who was he to care? Oh he didn't, he simply wanted her, as he had done in all the time they had been apart and he held onto her like she was about to turn and flee from his caresses when the truth was he made her weak, because she had been praying for his closeness for so long, thinking she was never going to know again.

Only fools messed around with second chances.

Their little daughter slept on as they sank back so willingly against the bed, a tangle of limbs and desires. They were so frantic to release the latter, but perhaps this was the one time in two overly miserable lives that torture was the best option, to go slow and rediscover everything they had missed so painfully to the point of convincing themselves that even this lust itself had been imagined. And though every moment seemed to pass with the gentlest touch, the sweetest pleasure, though there was no rush for any such moments to end, Dennis could not help but be hit by doubt as he lay beside Sharon. Both were silent, and though she looked more beautiful than Dennis believed he'd ever seen her, he couldn't believe she meant the smile she sent his way as she lay scooched into the pillow.

A moment of madness, he sadly decided. He couldn't assure he had any place in her life this way, it wasn't fair. This was the old way. Sharon was better than that, and Dennis wanted so much to be better himself. Carefully, he swung his legs to the floor and began to pull his jeans back on. He could feel Sharon's pretty eyes on him all the time, which made the guilt prickle hotter still.

"I'll do it." she said, amidst a serene sounding sigh.

"What?" he asked nervously, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

"Well, you were going to get Angie right? I guess I should feed her about now..."

Dennis stared guiltily at Sharon's bare back, inwardly cursing himself.

"No really-" he gabbled, getting up before Sharon even could. "-I'll go. New skills to pick up right?"

Sharon beamed, settling back to cover her nakedness with a section of the duvet. "I can't believe you wanna do this."

"Believe it." he told her simply, bending to lift Angie from beneath her blankets. "Anything's better than-"

Sharon nodded simply in understanding so that he was not forced to go on and oh, he was grateful.

"It's all in the fridge." she whispered as he headed towards the door. "Just needs reheating and then you test it by-"

"Back of the hand trick right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll be down in a second. Just need to, well you know-"

"I'll be fine." he repeated, before beaming down on his daughter. "Won't we kid?"

Angie babbled, making her mother giggle. "Yeah, I know." she returned, stroking hair from her eyes as she looked back at him. "But... maybe I just wanna..."

"Stare me out?"

"I won't be staring. I'll be... thinking how good she looks with you."

"Yeah-" Dennis grinned "-while you're staring."

She waved him off, but found that even when he was gone, she was still staring at the spot he was still stood, trying to comprehend all that had happened in the last hour. She got up from the bed and slowly, calmly replaced all her discarded clothes, but even then, she was still... seeing him. Though she'd seemed to get away with it, she was still.... shaken by the sight of him. She'd never forgotten how gorgeous he was and yet, this time, her lustful eyes had sought out those faded marks so soon. She knew they'd looked worse, so much so, but it still had hurt her to find the thin silvery trails across his shoulder and stomach, noting where bullets had entered him so mercilessly. Such bad times that at this time, in this proximity, Sharon was desperate to forget. She just wanted him, to believe that he might really be hers. And yet, however much she tried to tenderly kiss the marks away as they'd made love together, the marks, and the memories, refused to budge.

10:00 pm

Vicki dragged her feet as she climbed the stairwell to the front door of Number 5, fishing for her key in her pocket. These had been lonely, confusing hours, but she'd decided that Sharon's problems had to be her own. So what if weirdo blokes wanted to come up to her and ask questions? Maybe she just wouldn't give the next one the chance, cos damn it, she was gonna learn how to put up that bloody buggy on her own. She weren't gonna need no knights in shining armour next time and then no questions could be asked and Sharon, Angie and Vicki, they could just get on in the ways they'd become used to.

But for now, Vicki just wanted a hot bath, to try and forget how cold she now was for the hours she'd spent trawling the streets window shopping, no better for it. Without the money in her pocket to tell her she could have whatever it was that had leapt out so readily, so thankfully, to distract her from everything she was thinking, all she was was... back to square one and that wasn't somewhere she was prepared to go.

She pushed heavily against the front door and slipped inside with a defeated sigh. She blinked against the intrusion of the hall lights as she backed up against the door to close it. These lights were never on. Never. She wasn't exactly sure why, but that was just the way. So suspicion was prickling at the bush-beaten young girl as she threw off her coat, completely missing the banister as she flung it in that general direction. But she didn't notice, trying to level her voice so she didn't sound so desperate and frantic as she called her sister's name.

"Sharon?!"

She crashed into the lounge and practically lost her balance at the sight of the market-stranger, topless, balancing her niece in one arm and a bottle in the other.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled, rushing forward, her shivering arms ready to seize her niece.

Just for a second, Dennis closed his eyes, feeling the burden of Vicki's cluelessness sink down on him. "Ah. Vicki, look-"

"No, you look!" she pressed furiously, her voice heightening a little. "I don't who the Hell you think you are but- give her to me, now! What are you even doing with her? And why are you-"

"Vicki!"

Sharon flew into the lounge, having heard Vicki's frantic yelling. She was promptly silenced by the state of her big sister's clothing.

"Have you...? With him? Here?"

"Whatever you're thinking-" Sharon threw back firmly, with a dangerous look. "-don't."

But Vicki's anger swelled again and she screeched; "Do you even know who he is?"

"Of course I do." Sharon scoffed. "Do you think I'd hand Angie to anyone?"

"He's the guy from the market, asking all the bloody questions. He said he knew you-" she continued, with a disgusted glance. "Guess I didn't realise how much."

"Alright, stop."

"No! What's he doing here... like that?"

Dennis cleared his throat awkwardly, embarrassed for perhaps the first time ever about his state of undress. "Yeah, I should really-" And he moved forward, ready to hand Angie over. But Sharon defiantly blocked his path, glaring at her little sister.

"No you ahouldn't." Sharon told him, her eyes fixed upon Vicki. "She's gonna hear us out."

Vicki's laughter was cold and forced, almost a shriek. "Like Hell am I! I can't believe you, Sharon. I've stuck by you through everything and-" She shook her head in disgust, unable to comprehend it. "What about Dennis, huh, what about him?"

Feeling herself colour a little, Sharon bowed her head and laughed gently.

Even Dennis couldn't help but be a little amused, feeling the smirk flicker in the corner of his mouth. "Vicki, listen-"

But she held up her hand to silence him. "No! I won't listen. You know nothing."

"Oh he does, darlin'." 

"Yeah? You manage to fill him in on the Hell we've been through while you were tearing the clothes off his back then?"

The frustration flared. "I'm warning you, Vicki..." Sharon hissed with a warning thrust of a well manicured fingertip. "-once more-"

"Sharon..." Dennis said softly, stepping up beside her with Angie still in his arms, more unsettled now by all the commotion. "...it's OK."

She sagged at his words, groaning quietly. But Vicki was unmoved by her lack of energy to fight and rounded again on the stranger that held her niece. "How is it OK? C'mon, you enlighten me! You're some... stalking weirdo... stood half naked in my house with my niece in your arms! Now she don't trust no-one with her, and there you are, some stranger, so you tell me, how is it that OK?"

"Because, Vicki.... I'm Dennis. Hi."

As his words hit, Vicki fell back onto the balls of her feet, mouth hanging agape and shaking a little she was so stunned. "You're Dennis?" she spluttered, her gaze whizzing madly between him and a relieved, if not a slightly bashful looking Sharon. "The Dennis?"

"Well, assuming there's only ever been one... yeah."

"But..." Vicki struggled with the words, hating how thickly the ones she managed came out. "...you're dead."

Dennis saw Sharon wince and he immediately hated how pained she looked. But he wasn't about to lie.

"Yeah, technically, I died a while ago. Three times actually."

This time, Sharon physically flinched and instinctively raised her frightful eyes to his face, her bottom lip trembling. Dennis blanched his own and looked away.

"She thought they'd killed you." Vicki argued fiercely, reluctant to let her guard drop.

"They had pretty much."

"But you're not dead..."

"No." He smiled weakly, knowing she was still extremely suspicious and rightly so. "I know."

"Why not?" she pressed, inwardly cursing how childish she sounded, but oh, these questions were so urgent. "Why?" she demanded again after an unwelcome beat of silence. "My sister broke her heart for you! You ever watched that? Have you ever bothered to pick up the pieces?"

"Vicki-" Sharon pleaded. "-don't. Please d-"

"No! The bastard should be dead, Sharon, for everything he's done to you... to Angie!"

Dennis glanced down at his writhing daughter. "You want her? Take her. Go on. It don't change the truth of it does it?"

"The truth? Jesus Christ, you don't know the meaning of truth!" Vicki spat as she bundled her niece protectively closer, at a loss as to how she was meant to make Angie stop howling, but being too angry to care. "You've lost your fucking mind."

"No I haven't." Sharon replied sadly. "I love him and she needs him."

"She's got us."

"He's her dad." Sharon hissed back stubbornly. "What's the matter with you? You're supposed to be the one that knows how I-"

But it was Dennis that cut across her. "But it's easier to sympathise with a dead man, right Vicki?"

"Don't talk to me." Vicki replied venemously, turning away only to turn back a moment later, struck by a new argument that simply would not wait. "Y'know... she does love you, whoever you are. And I... I used to think I'd wanna hug you just as tight as she would if I ever saw ya cos you... you saved her life, you gave her Angie. But I don't think you care."

"Didn't think you would." he said simply, unfazed by her nastiness.

"Cos this is a year later. You destroyed her. She thought... we all thought it was them... hurting you like that, but it's you, cos what, you turn up... few sweet nothings and she gives it up just like last time-"

Incensed, Sharon hissed threateningly; "If you didn't have my daughter in your arms..."

"You'd what?"

"You were supposed to understand!" she howeled.

"And I'm trying!" Vicki insisted desperately. "But how I am meant to understand that he can do that and you just... forgive him? Everything you went through cos of him Sharon, thinking it all meant something-"

"It does. It... will."

"How? When? A week before Jack Dalton's lot tear down the door to finish off what they started?"

"That ain't gonna happen." Dennis said firmly.

"Oh right, and how'd you know?"

"Dead man walking?" he growled in frustration. "I don't think so. They ain't gonna go looking for it, not after..."

He checked himself just in time, but Vicki's eyes flashed dangerously and Dennis knew she had already understood what he had planned to say.

"After my dad, you mean?"

He wouldn't look back at her.

"Is that what you mean?"

"You're upsetting Angie!" Sharon cried out desperately, practically having to beg her daughter from her sister's rigid arms. Sharon held Angie's little body close, cooing into her soft mop of hair and murmuring; "It's OK, angel, Mummy's here now, shhh-shhh-shhhh. It'll be alright!" She began to pace in an effort to soothe her daughter, but was made even more frantic when she caught the way Vicki's venemous glare was refusing to leave Dennis' face. "There's things you don't know, Vicki darlin'." she whispered awkwardly against Angie's warm crown.

"Well obviously!" she retorted hotly.

"About Dad. Cos it's him you need to be firing questions at alright?"

"I don't need to do that."

"Oh believe me, madam, you do." Sharon answered bluntly, turning towards Dennis and handing him Angie. "Because he's the only one that's kept this family apart. Remember that nurse, sending that medical team? Me asking those police officiers if they'd found the-" 

She bit hastily into her lip to keep the word back and glanced painfully at her lover for a moment, who looked guiltily away and instead concentrated on soothing their little girl. It felt more natural every time he tried, even if it did physically hurt him to hear her so upset.

"No-one ever said anything about it again did they? And that's cos there was nothing to find. Think about it Vicki, all that time it was just you and me at the hospital, where was Dad?"

"Looking for you!"

"Yeah." she bit back sarcastically. "Or maybe, he was the one tearing the shirt off Dennis' back eh? Knowing it was covered in blood and shoving it in that envelope for my viewing. Oh darlin', I felt loved."

Crying silently with the confusion, Vicki shook her head desperately. "No! He wouldn't."

"He did." Dennis assured her guiltily. "I didn't know what was going on. I... thought I was dying. It obviously seemed better that way. He got me sewn up in some private hospital, I've been in Spain ever since."

"But... if he thought it was better... why didn't he just leave you to die?"

Dennis shook his head, baffled. "I honestly don't know."

Sharon, her eyes half closed as the moments of painful recollection and deep concentration passed by, suddenly jolted. "I do." she said certainly. "I said... when he took me away... that I'd never forgive him.... if- if Dennis died."

"But that's what we thought."

"Yeah." Sharon agreed bitterly. "But he knew different. I bet that musta levelled out his conscience. Thinking he was doing some right while he kept us all apart, I don't know."

Dennis looked up, still looking decidedly guiltily as he methodically rubbed Angie's back. "I'm not trying to defend him or anything, but I just think... he wanted better for you. If you coulda... forgotten then... you coulda had so much... better."

Sharon listened, unmoved and returned the simplest of answers. "I have Angie."

10:10 pm 

"I know." Dennis nodded sadly, feeling guilt press against his ribs again. "I just... this weren't the way you wanted it."

Sharon just looked at him, her eyes stony. She began to nibble thoughtfully at her lip and then released a soft, sad sigh, before asking; "No? I had Angie because she was yours-"

"But I coulda been anyone... someone better..."

"Better?" she mused. "You mean you're not? You mean you've still got murdering scum like Jack Dalton, like Alex, like Pierre breathing down your neck, telling you what to do with body and mind every second of the day? Have ya?"

"Sharon-" he answered her gently, looking anxiously over at Vicki, who looked pained and confused all at once. He tried to move foward, just a few steps, but Sharon moved defiantly back, awaiting his answer. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Why shouldn't I? Hasn't left me."

"Well, they have. OK? It's done... they think we're both gone."

"Yeah? So what if I turned right now and said I never wanted to see you again. Would you go?"

Dennis looked definitely hurt, but knew he had no choice but to consider the seriousness of her words. "If you meant it. Yeah."

"So where would you go?"

He glanced down and after a brief silence, mumbled heavily; "Jamie's."

"Jamie?" Sharon echoed, her face creasing in confusion. "The same Jamie that you-"

"Mmmm."

Sharon's mouth hung agape. "I'm surprised he let you near."

But Dennis was unfazed by her cold tone. He knew it was not meant. There was too much for her to try and order in her head all at once. He simply smiled and replied lightly; "He said the same about you actually."

And though she was mildly affronted, Sharon couldn't help but smile. "How is he?"

"He's good... yeah."

"So... how come a bloke you almost managed to kill once is allowed to know you're alive and I'm not?"

"Jamie... got it. He knew what the risks were darlin'. I didn't want you to... be part of that. I still don't, but I'm just... well, actually, I'm dead and buried."

Sharon flinched. "You are?"

"Mmmm. Felixstowe somewhere I think."

Vicki's crisp voice cut across the pained silence that encircled the lovers. "Did my Dad organise that? How original..."

Sharon's chest constricted as the force of Vicki's words hit her. Her eyes began to itch with the threat of tears as she looked pleadingly over at Dennis. "Please tell me he didn't..."

But Dennis avoided her eye, mumbling; "I'm sorry."

She felt her stomach lurch. "The sick bastard. He knows how much I wanted the chance to- I couldn't even... call you Angie's dad."

Dennis stepped forward, brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"

Sharon looked up at him and laughed bitterly in his face. "Because I'm not your wife. That's why - the only reason why. I couldn't get hold of your birth or death certificates, so I couldn't name you on her birth certificate. I felt so stupid - great big "Unknown" where your name shoulda been. S'about the only time having Angie made me feel as dirty as it sounded to everyone else. I felt like such a... whore. Even though I knew... I knew she was yours, no-one listened to me." She twisted her hip and glanced anxiously over at Vicki, who, happily, smiled softly. "Vicki was the only-"

"I know." Dennis whispered. "You said."

"Can't just be normal can it? Me, you & Angie. It isn't going to happen because you're not even you anymore."

He spluttered sadly on a laugh. "Alright, so maybe we can't be conventional- I've got no right to stand here and ask you to trust me, but... I just can't stand to be frozen out your life anymore. I need to be around you, even if you won't let me be with you."

Her eyes darkened and she said stiffly; "You haven't asked."

"There's no point. I can't give you and Angie everything you even need right now, not even thinking about everything you deserve on top. But I'll get there, OK? Just... don't ask me to walk away, cos I can't do it. I don't wanna be the person you remember, I don't want you to remember. I wanna give you better, you and Angie. I just... I don't know how right now."

"Alright." she replied, releasing a gentle breath. Then she turned back towards her little sister, outstretching her arms for her baby daughter. Vicki frowned, but Sharon spoke over her. "Go and find Dad for me Vicki. I think we need to talk."

Vicki nodded and reluctantly handed her niece back over, slipping out of the room and through the front door.

Sharon held her daughter close against her chest, as if she had not held her in a year. Dennis smiled lovingly at seeing them together again and cautiously stepped up to Sharon, letting his arms slide around her waist only when he saw that she did not move away. Sharon leant back against him, her weary head rested on his chest and she murmured; "Would you rather we forget... us? Because... I did plan to get over you one day, only... she came along and it didn't happen."

"Good." He bowed his head and let a soft kiss in her hair, but then chuckled sadly; "God, that sounds selfish darlin'... I'm sorry. Guess I just ain't used to meaning... something."

"I know."

"Can I.... take her?"

Smiling coyly, Sharon dutifully laid her daughter in her daddy's arms. "I told you, you don't need my permission to care for her."

But Dennis looked doubtful. "Yeah well, I know I'm gonna be asking until I get it right."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "What makes you think you haven't already?"

"Because I don't trust myself. How can I after everything you- everything I... I shoulda known not to agree to what your dad-"

But Sharon shushed him, shaking her head. "None of this is really about him, you know it isn't. Don't give me excuses Dennis, I've never been able to stand 'em. Please, just give me reasons."

"Alright. Maybe I don't think you should trust me either. But you're stood there asking if I can make myself forget ya, and the answer's no. I can't. I love you and that's summat that's so new and so good, I can't reject that when you're the one that pretty much gave up your whole life just to have Angie in your arms. It just seems that whatever I do, on some level, I'm being selfish."

Dumbstruck, Sharon shook her head again, taking in the way Dennis held Angie so tenderly, as if she were made of china. "But she's your daughter. She needs you. We both do. And I know I can't stop you going back to Spain if you want to, I'm just saying, I'm still gonna be here, feeling like this."

Dennis looked back at her with some kind of awestruck wonderment in his eyes. "I've never known anyone think as much of me as you do. You saw the truth Sharon, how can you still-?"

"Because I already knew you were different. You might not have done until recently, but I did. Round about the time you had me against the wall by the throat-"

He flinched shamefully and pretended not to hear her, but she kept talking.

"'No point in making yourself miserable Sharon. Me & you... we've got Jack for that.' That's what you said and in that second I knew there was no-one in the world that wanted to be less like you than you did. You wanted to live a different life, you wanted to be better. And Angie... she's the last chance for both of us-"

"You'd be alright..." Dennis pointed out, but Sharon laughed him off.

"My life has been screw up after screw up since I was about eleven years old. I don't wanna live like that anymore. Please Dennis, let's just be different... just once."

"And you think it'll work out that way do you? Me and you? Angie? You actually think we'd hold fast?"

"Well I never let go."

"I had no choice." he reminded her sadly.

"But you have a choice now. I'm not asking you to never make mistakes again, we're human. I'm begging you not to leave us again. I can't take that. Whatever we work out, whatever we don't, I still want you in my life-"

Cradling Angie, Dennis felt a shiver of gratitude, of hope, coarse through his body, but it departed in a jolt as the front door slammed and Den tore like an animal into the lounge, followed by a frightened looking Vicki, who preferred to shuffle from foot to foot in the hallway and stay out of the firing line. She seemed to feel she had said plenty already.

Sharon bit anxiously into her lip as she took in her father's thunderous look, the way he seemed to convulse at the site of Dennis, still only half dressed, his daughter held safe in his arms. She summoned all her courage, if only to greet him.

"Hello Dad."

"What the Hell is he still doing here, Princess?"

Dennis took it upon himself to answer, a stony expression sweeping his face as he looked unkindly at Den. "I'm looking after my daughter. Only I know you don't really know what that means!"

Seeing Den lurch forward in anger, both Sharon and Vicki threw themselves forwards, yelling for clarity. It was Sharon that managed to block his path, thereby shielding her lover and their daughter, who began to bawl in all the noise in upset.

"Why don't you get it, Dad?" Sharon seethed. "This is not the answer!"

"Oh, but this is?" he yelled back, glaring venemously at Dennis.

"Shouldn't you be able to answer that?" Sharon demanded contemptously. "After all, it's you that told him to play dead, it's you that buried him isn't it? You saw how much I was hurting... you knew how badly I wanted to name him on the birth certificate, to call him Angie's dad and you fed me lie after lie after lie! Still, musta come easy after your own little absence eh? Who was weighing down the box this time, cos I think we can all see it weren't Dennis!"

"Does that even matter?"

"Course not. But then nothing does to you, does it? I told you how I felt about him, I told you everything and you just wouldn't hear me! Tell me you're sorry, tell me or I'm gone!"

Den jolted and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Gone where?"

"Does that matter?" she fired back.

"Well yes actually. You can't seriously be considering doing a moonlit flit with him."

Sharon, however, remained defiant. "And why wouldn't I, Dad, hmmm? I love him."

Den turned his head away in disgust and laughed coldly. "Course you do Princess. Just like you loved the Chuckle Brothers across the road, just like you loved Wicksy, or that Irish fella- s'always love and in the end, it means nothing does it?"

"No, you're right. Except it's different with Dennis and you know it is. Because in the end we had a child together. And I have no right to keep the two of the apart. So you tell me, what the Hell did you think you were playing at?"

"I was doing what was best."

"No you weren't. You've never thought about doing what was best, not for anyone else but yourself. I reckon you did this so you keep making me grow down, make me back into your little girl again. But it's never gonna happen Dad, don't you see? I have my own little girl now and I want her to be happy. I want her to have her dad and yes, I might be a fool Dad, but I want to believe Dennis & I have a future too."

"Oh yeah, I bet. Cos Dennis here is really the kinda man that's gonna work a nine-to-five to give you and Angie everything you need isn't he? The Firm gonna offer him a cushy little desk job is it?"

"I'm well out of that." Dennis growled darkly. "S'cos of you I can't even be myself anymore."

"You never wanted to be yourself in the first place boy-" Den sneered.

"No, alright, I didn't. Is that why you wouldn't finish me off? Is that why you decided it was better I live the kinda Hell I've been living this past year? To make me suffer? Keep going without her... without the daughter I didn't even know existed!"

"Why didn't you, Dad?" Sharon pressed in a persistent whimper. "Why did you bother to help him at all just to lie to me? I don't understand..."

Den hung his head again and licked guiltily at his cracked lips, mumbling his words almost in the hope that Sharon would not come to hear him. "You said you wouldn't forgive me.... if he died."

"And I never have." Sharon assured him in a venemous hiss. "Only he isn't dead is he Dad? Was that enough for that twisted conscience of yours then eh? Even though you were spending every day in your lying ignorance, pretending not to notice while I broke my heart every day! That's... sick, Dad. I mean, how was it supposed to work? Was he scheduled to do what you did? Spring outta his grave decades later... maybe when Angie was packed off to uni somewhere?"

Den shook his head fiercely and growled; "He was meant to stay away."

"But where's the incentive? You lied to us both Dad, simultaneously, when we coulda been together... with our daughter... like a family."

"You have a family Princess, here, with me."

"I don't want to be around you anymore." she surmised sadly. "You sicken me. And Angie deserves better."

"He'll never give her that."

"I'll love her!" Dennis threw back angrily. "You never have, have ya? What's she ever done to deserve that? She's just a baby for fuck's sake!"

"Yeah. Yours. Daughter of scum, of lowlife."

"No!" Sharon yelled again, raising her hands to silence her father and block out his words as they came. You're not going to do this anymore Dad, do you understand? You are not going to dictate to me because I'm sick of it! Have you really forgotten what I went through there? They stole me from my home... my family. And you... you did the same to Dennis when you kept him from Angie and me. Dad, why won't you see... Dennis saved my life in that place. More than once. I nearly killed myself, did you know that, did you ever listen? I climbed up onto the roof, over the side and I woulda let go if Dennis hadn't been behind me, telling me I had to go home to Vicki... and to you! And sometimes, I look at you and I think I shoulda told Dennis to let go of my hand and let me fall. Sometimes I think it woulda been better that way."

"How can you say that?" Den questioned in a shattered, horrified tone.

"Because you stole it away. You stole Dennis away, the chance for me to be happy I was having his baby. I'll never have that chance again. What you did... What you did is... unforgivable." 

There was a beat of silence and Sharon scanned her father's face for a flickering of regret. She saw it, but was not pacified, because she knew she would never know what part of her misery he honestly regretted causing. She could see now how undoubtedly warped his mind was. He had hidden Dennis away for Sharon's sake it seemed, to save her from Jack Dalton's threat, but then had selfishly decided that Dennis was never again to meet with Sharon, or indeed his own baby girl.

"But you know I'm not going to go anywhere. You know I'm not just gonna flounce out. Because I'm a mother and my baby... she's always gonna come first. I'm not sure I can expect you to understand that but I hope you can. So I'll stay here with you and Vicki until..."

"Until?" Den croaked, stricken.

"Until Dennis is ready for us... Angie and me."

"Princess, you can't expect-"

"I can." she interrupted sharply. "And I do. I never told you he was perfect Dad. But my God, he was the best you coulda hoped for me in that kinda world. The day you came... oh God, you didn't see... you were still yelling for me on the other side- Alex, the guy with the- he turned it on me. Cos I wouldn't leave. But Dennis... he shielded me... told me to go with you. And I didn't want... I didn't want to cos that isn't what he promised me... up on the roof... we were supposed to leave together. He didn't try and get the gun. Not at all. He just made sure I was OK, and then he went. He laid his life down for me Dad... and for our baby, without knowing she was there. But he still did it and the proof's still here, look-"

Sharon turned back to Dennis and tenderly pressed her bunched fingertips against his shoulders, lovingly tracing the silvery line of the wound.

"First shot..." she observed distantly, her voice beginning to waiver as she spoke. "...my God, there was blood everywhere, I could feel it on my skin. And-" Sharon's hand brushed the bottom of Angie's tiny foot as she caressed along the larger wound she knew marked his stomach. "Second. I... I still have nightmares. Hearing it. Thinking about the pain. But you saw more of that than I did, didn't you Dad and yet you still... hate him so much and you have no right. You're as guilty as any of them there with Dennis and me. You played with lives just to cause hurt... and you didn't even care that you were ripping me apart in the process. And I knew that before I even met Dennis. It took you too long. You barely cared I was missing-"

"That's not true!" Den thundered, his voice raw like a wounded animal. But Sharon was beginning to feel something close herself.

"It's all true!" she screamed back, tears overpowering her and causing her to splutter. "Dennis was the only person in all that horrible time that was real, Vicki is the only one that cared what I was feeling. But now you have to care Dad, because I'm telling you I love him and if you don't wanna believe he feels the same, just remember the mess you found him in, eh, cos he did that for me, knowing you never would! I don't need you anymore."