Stay With Me

Sharon was rigid. She was speechless and her mouth was dangerously dry. Too many words were coming from his mouth, too many deep cutting words for her to brush them all off as drunken nonsense. Dennis was too agitated, had had too much time to think on it all for it all to have come out of one heavy night, one moment of pain. Besides, did she not remember a night not so long ago when he had forced his mouth to hers in a way it was never going to fit? Did she not remember how angry and repulsed the whole episode made her?

Why did it not do so now? In all her stillness, why was the self same mouth suddenly so mesmerising in all its torture? Why did this frenzy he was working himself up in in the absence of her words fascinate her so?

"Well, someone had to say it Sharon and now it's out and I... I can't unsay it and I can't unthink it!" With an air of desperation, he rammed his crumpled cigarette carton deep into his pocket. Sharon almost flinched at the way his voice cracked with the emotion she would never before have believed was within him. Somehow, somewhere, he was getting to her. I can't do this anyone... I can't do it! I can't be shut out here while you're in there - you might be able to do it but I can't! We'll, uh, sort something so it pans out with Vicki. I'll see you in the morning and uh... I'll meet you then. It'll be easier like that-"

Easier to walk out? Sharon wondered. Easier to run? Oh, if he'd ever thought to ask, she could have told him that such solutions never panned out. Being alone was never better. Was that why she reached out for his arm, pulling him back from his determined stride. His eyes glistened with agony, an emotion that had been tugging at her wrecked gut since she had been left so alone in this world once again. She did not want to made to feel it again, and here was someone, so willing to take it all for her, to breathe life into her again.

Was the need for such an awakening that drew her back to those coarse, needy lips? Was it why they seemed to suddenly fit her own so well, taste quite so bittersweet? Was that one brief moment enough to cause such an uprising fire of emotions? Because oh, he held her fiercely, his chilled hands cupping her whole face and driving her apparant insistence harder down against his own lips, just so that he might be sure of her closeness. His dreams had tortured him with the idea for too long. But still she kissed him with a deep and fierce passion, forcing the weight of her feverish and all at once willing body against his. He stumbled back, colliding somewhat painfully with the sideboard and causing all manner of unknown objects to cascade off the side and shatter all over the floor. But it did not register with either, both lost to the flames of passion controlling them from within.

They tore frantically at one another's clothes as they half stumbled towards Sharon's bedroom. Dennis, although half crazed with need and desire after so long, and although he trembled and fizzed, was amazingly calm beneath her frenzied touch. It meant too much, he had waited too long to know it than to deny it now. And it was all he wanted to touch her in return in all the ways he had dreamed of. He wanted to see her body, to know it better than any other lover she had known. Oh, and love her he would. He'd love every inch of her, admire her in all her beautiful vulnerability, cover every inch of her in adoring kisses to make her burn with the level of desire that had had Dennis so enslaved since the moment he had entered Angie's Den all those months again.

He wrenched her top away from her form and discarded it for the useless shroud it was, hardly caring as buttons flew everywhere. Delighting in the warmth that seemed to radiating from her smooth skin, he let his hands skim up her back and loosened off her bra. She lurched back and it was his raw instinct to grapple for her, nowhere ready to lose her, with so much to prove. But as she let it drop from her arms, at the same time demanding in her touch that Dennis shrug off his shirt. When he could not seem to comply fast enough but for his own need, she growled impatiently into his mouth and clawed it off, and Dennis was sure he'd felt no sweeter physical pain than her shapely nails scratching deep reddened groves almost all the way down his arms.

He lay her down against her perfectly made bedcovers, his hungry eyes travelling appreciatively over her half naked body as he admired her in the half-light, captivated by the way her chest seemed to swell so much to create and release such ragged breaths in such quick succession. But few moments later and he needed to claim that sound, make it more, make it his own, and he covered her body with his own, her lips crushing to his. He could not help but let his hands wonder, touching her bare skin, and when the pad of his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple, she broke off from the urgency of their kiss to tilt her head back into the bed and give out a subdued cry of pleasure.

Amazed by what so little had done to her, hardly believing yet that it was he who had done it to her, Dennis smiled gently and raised himself up a little through his arms and allowed his lips to cover her every inch of exposure, intoxicated by soft and warm her skin felt beneath his kiss, how willing. He covered her neck, her shoulders, her breasts all in soft whispering kisses that made her tingle and writhe. She bit hard at her quivering lip, but she could not seem to control how the rest of her powerless body tremored and jerked. These movements in themselves told a determined lover all he needed to know in themselves, and he moved lower still, covering the flat plane of her stomach too.

As he reached the waistband of her trousers, Dennis paused, cautiously slipping a fingertip beneath it to ease it away from her beautiful body and heed any warning she might give him now. Sharon seemed to have stiffened a little, and that panicked him, but still he found he could not bring hmself to stop touching her. Slowly, he worked open the fly of her trousers and slipped just one fingertip into the band of her lacy underwear. It made him shiver in anticipation, with longing, to realise just how wet she was. That assured him a little more. Because now he knew for himself, not only did she want his touch, she needed it too.

And so there were no protests, only the utmost compliance as he undressed her fully, his breath completely stolen as he saw her for the first time in her complete nakedness. He couldn't stop himself saying the words, with a childlike enthsiasm almost.

"You're so beautiful..."

A sharp intake of breath was all he got in reply. But it hardly mattered. He simply returned to his previous occupation, kissing a path down into her drenched heat, lapping skilfully at it with the tip of his tongue. Her cry then was not subdued. It was demand, and Dennis was ready to adhere. He had been imagining hearing her cry out for him like that for so long and suddenly, it was real. He could show her pleasure... real pleasure.

As he worked her closer and closer to her first orgasm, needing to prove to her the kind of release she could really have from this miserable life she'd been living, her body seemed to tense and jerk continually. He knew she was close... he knew he'd be the one to have caused it, and that meant so much, seeing how feverish the sheer want made her as she moaned out her climax. He'd never heard a sweeter sound.

"Please..." she gasped breathlessly, writhing still as she fought to recover from the sensations she was not yet ready to surrender. "Now...."

Dennis was ready for her in a moment, by now dizzy with the truth of this experience. He stroked lovingly up the inside of her drenched thigh, satisfied as she whimpered and parted her legs a little more. He held himself above her, captivated by the look of desperation in her eyes. As he thrust into her, they both gave out a simultaneous cry of... relief. This is what they both needed. Dennis had just never imagined she might feel this good, and it took him several seconds to adjust to the idea she was quite so perfect before he began a rhythm. 

Sharon's breath seemed to have died away in her throat, but still she moaned, louder and louder still as she writhed to meet his thrust, increasing the level of pleasure non both sides until neither could take much more, quickening the pace and working one another harder and harder to achieve the bliss of oblivion. And hearing Sharon cry out for more of him as orgasm broke through her ravaged body was all he needed to achieve a height of pleasure he'd never met in his last twenty lovers.

He lay in awe beside her, the messed bed-covers barely covering her nakedness. Not that she needed to. He could have admired her easily and willingly always. But she just seemed to shudder as the last waves of her release left her and they seemed to have left her a little stunned.

But still he couldn't not help but repeat the words he had never meant so sincerely before. She bewitched him. He reached and tenderly stroked strands of her fringe from her eyes, murmuring; "You're beautiful."

Her hand curled around his forearm, she let her fingers brush across the back of his wrist, but the frisson even this innocent touch created between them made her shudder in a way she never had before. She didn't understand it and therefore it frightened her.

"No I'm not." she mumbled thickly, fixing her blank gaze on the dark ceiling.

"Yeah you are, don't argue. It works between us, doesn't it? I mean, it's right. We... fit. I knew we would." Perhaps it was nerves that took him as he lay there greeted by nothing but her silence, but he laughed to himself for a moment and suggested; "Now'd be a great time for Vicki to walk in, wouldn't it? Imagine the screams. She did a runner over the other thing, she'll wind up in Mongolia over this!"

"Vicki..." Sharon murmured hauntingly to the ceiling, Dennis choosing not to notice.

"She'll be alright." he assured her gently. "She'll get used to it. She'll have to. This is how it's gonna be from now on. Just me and you."

Sharon wished that she could just let the silence remain, let his warmth and closeness after so long alone soothe her, but this was too sobering, his words still so sincere. They frightened her.

"But she'll be so shocked..."

"They'll all be shocked. They need it, shake 'em up, give 'em something to think about." 

Absent-mindedly, he stroked at her hand, and Sharon wanted so much to grab his and pretend it felt right in her own. For these same caresses on her skin had bought her alive. She did not want to die inside again. But she certainly did not feel as brave as Dennis seemed to.

"All these people round here... they think they know you-"

"Well, they do Dennis." she managed, her mouth unbearably dry and unaccomodating for words. "They've known me all my life."

"No. They don't. They don't know nothing about ya. Not the first thing. I've been waiting for this to happen..."

"What?"

"Well, it's you in't he?" he murmured with a coy smile. "I mean, it's gotta be plain as day. I love you, don't I? And they can say what they like, think what they like, I don't care. I don't care about any of them, none of them matter."

Sharon somehow found the nerve to half look at him as he spoke, drawn deeper and deeper into his words. Wanting so much to believe them, to believe she might be wanted once more, the fright fizzled a little and one thought filled her head. He had been waiting.... and he'd made it feel so good...

She shifted over onto her hip, laying in line with his body, savouring the warmth of it as she bravely took his hand, stroking his fingers apart. Her hand shook against his. She wanted so much to just lock her fingers through and show him something, anything in return for such shattering honesty and bravery.

And she could have steeled herself to do it had she not been so startled by the thudding at the door. It was not a regular knock, but even that would have been enough to ruin the false security of this moment. This was not true. This could never be real.

Sharon almost screamed with fright, hardly managing to bite it back as she thought over Dennis' words.

"Now'd be a great time for Vicki to walk in wouldn't it?"

While her brother and her sister lay naked in the same bed?

No!

Whimpering, Sharon wrenched up the duvet to cover herself. Dennis frowned in confusion and huge irritation at having their moment stolen, but was more worried for his lover.

"Sharon...?" he murmured.

But as he reached out to touch her she shrank away, whimpering as tears fell from her sparkling eyes. "No! Dennis, no, please..."

Choosing not to assess everything she could have meant, not in possession of the headspace, he took her words for ones of fright at the intrusion and smiled softly. "It's OK..." he told her gently, reaching to scoop his rumpled jeans from the floor. "I'll go... just... don't move OK?" 

Sharon shook her head desperately as he fastened his jeans again, and she wet the edge of the duvet she bit so hard at the material as he moved around the bed and into the lounge. He paused in the doorway, taking in the trail of destruction the two of them had left behind in their raw release of passion and was quietly impressed. He glanced back to Sharon and saw that to smile would not be the right thing she looked so terrified, her lips quivering to the motion of "Clothes..."

He was almost indifferent to complying, but dutifully recovered his discarded shirt from the floor, shaking shards of glass from the smashed bottle and photo frame before he pulled it in, having hardly done up the last button as the thudding at the front door became louder and more fierce.

"RICKMAN! I know you're in there!"

Dennis went cold as he recognised the gruff holler he knew Sharon would too if it were not silenced immediately. He bolted to the front door, wrenching it open.

"For fuck's sake Mitchell-" he hissed, as hatefully as he had ever done. 

But he was promptly silenced, suddenly made aware why all this commotion was necessary. For in Phil Mitchell's red raw shaking hands was a gun.

"Wh-What's going on?" he managed nervously, licking around his cracked, dry lips.

Phil's eyes were wide and maddened. He could barely hold his head steady, a dangerous looking twitch in his neck. He lifted the gun a little straighter as he delivered his reply.

"Jack says time's up Dennis, let's go..."

Dennis' spine locked defensively as he stood there. "I'm not going anywhere."

Phil chuckled coldly. "No?" His knuckles flexed around the gun. "Cos this, this says you ain't got no choice."

But Dennis tilted his head back defiantly, blanching at his lip and standing his ground. Phil's hairy lip twitched up into a smirk.

"Well... best come in then hadn't I?"

Dennis was a second too late in reacting to hold him off from barging into the hallway, and how he was cursing inwardly as a result.

"I ain't got time to waste, Rickman..." he warned dangerously.

"Then you best piss off back to Jack a'n't ya, cos I'm not playing."

"We'll see about that."

Phil swaggered confidently into the lounge, but was stopped as he took in the mess. "Jesus Christ!" he observed coolly. "A bomb go off in 'ere or summat?"

"Summat." Dennis replied dryly, agitation tightening his chest. If Phil spoke any louder, Sharon was bound to hear, know it was him and... then it would all fall apart.

It made him edgy to see how Phil, the gun still held firm in his sweaty grasp, looked so critically around, taking in every detail. The smashed glass crunched threateningly beneath his feet as he moved steadily across the room, heading straight for Sharon's discarded top. Dennis kept biting at his lip, seeing everything unravel before him and having no clue how to stop it.

Phil stooped and gathered the ruined material into his hands, turning it over. "This.... it's Sharon's..."

"Yeah?" Dennis demanded flatly, wishing he could make himself sound indifferent. But he knew he wouldn't manage it because he wasn't. Never mind the threat in his hand, at the moment, remembering again that Phil had been one of those to touch the woman that lay waiting in Dennis' own bed made him sicker and more furious than any other idea that had presented itself tonight.

"She's here, ain't she?"

Dennis remained silent for a moment, just looked over at him through those furious eyes before hissing; "So keep your fuckin' voice down will ya?"

"And you-" His small piggy eyes swept with an air of disdain over the younger man, taking in his bare feet and rumpled clothing. Smirking again as he chuckled in disbelief, Phil moved determinedly forward, stowing the gun in his deep pocket as he went. "Oh you gotta be joking, please tell me you're-"

This time, Dennis was ready to precede his step. "Mitchell!" he hissed, ready to throw him back if the need (rather than the want) presented itself. "For fuck's sake, just-!"

But he crashed into the bedroom, clothes littering the path to the door all the way. Dennis felt something in the centre of his chest explode, and he grabbed Phil roughly by the collar, ramming him hard against the wall.

"This how it is eh Sharon?" Phil called out blindly.

Dennis whirled round as he heard her murmur and noticed that while he had been gone, she'd simply burrowed beneath the covers, hoping she might disappear as she lay there. Only now, she knew who else stood in the dark room and she was animated with nothing besides fear, struggling to cover herself as she sat up, rigid.

"Phil, it isn't... it isn't what it looks like... please!"

"Oh shut up." he scoffed, his laughter mocking her for a moment. "Of course it's what it looks like, I remember you, Sharon. I mean, I know you musta had a thing for brothers, but your own?!"

She bowed her head shamefully, somehow managing to ignore the enormity of Dennis' presence too, crushing him little by little for the every second that went by.

"You can't tell anyone... you can't! It wasn't... It wasn't supposed-"

His hairy lip twisted cruelly as he looked between the clandestine lovers, each glance mocking them as he took in the flickerings of hurt Dennis could not keep from his face. "Not what you think is it, Rickman? Ooh, that musta stung."

"It's got fuck all to do with you."

"Or you so it seems. And yet it's me that's gotta keep your dirty little secret, so... now you tell me you've got a choice - go on!"

He smiled tightly in reply. "Nah. C'mon then... let's go."

For the few seconds it took for Dennis to recover his shoes and force his feet back into them, Phil, and Sharon it had to be said, watched him utterly dumbfounded. It almost amused Phil that Dennis seemed so willing to give in to Jack's demands after so few damning words from the woman whose bed he had just climbed from. It made it seem easier, if only that did not mean that he really would have to use the gun that weighed down his pocket, never to fit properly in his hand.

Sharon had a look of terror across her whole face. She was lost. There was nothing she understood right now. Never mind how sick with nerves she felt at being discovered in such a state of undress and obviousness, she had yet to address the question of what one of Dennis' adversaries was doing in their home in the dead of night.

"Go where?"

No-one answered her however, Dennis moving around the edge of the bed with a sombre look.

"Dennis?"

He slowed up, turning his head a fraction, but never enough to turn and look at her fully, knowing he would be unable to bear looking back at such beauty he was being denied when he had laid his battered soul so bare.

"Doesn't matter does it?" his murmured, his voice cracking with the weight of the words as he forced them out.

"Don't be so stupid, of course it matters!" 

But he wouldn't say anything more, so she turned back to Phil, battling down her fear as she thought instead of how this man, one Sharon had once professed to love, had had Dennis so savagely beaten by another hand, the marks still raised and angry all across his body. It infuriated her so much. She knew there was no love lost between the two of them, so why had Phil not settled his score himself?

"What's going on, Phil? You come to have another pop? What is it with you two, why d'you have to hate each other so much?"

Phil's gaze was fixed upon her, and as Dennis gave out a cold murmur of laughter, Sharon stiffened.

"Is it me? Is it?"

"You flatter yourself, y'know that?" Phil scoffed.

"Alright, so maybe it isn't. but you're both here right now, am I supposed to believe you're jut gonna walk off into the sunset together like best friends? I know you both-"

"Bit more than we mighta realised eh?"

Sharon ignored his dig, glaring at him instead even as she shivered. "Something's going on, and I wanna know what it is."

"You don't." Dennis whispered. "You really don't."

"I'm not about to let you walk out of here with him!"

"Oh, well, I would say I'd give you both another half an hour, but I don't have time to waste."

"Shut up." Sharon shuddered. "Shut up. How many was it last time, Phil, three... four? So's what it this time? Seven... eight? I was the one that patched him up last time and I really didn't appreciate it. I thought you of all people would have understood that."

"Yeah well, no-one said you had to do it, eh?"

"He's my-"

The word died away in her mouth. She'd seen Dennis flinch at the threat of it and Phil chuckled to himself seeing the separate torments they were suffering.

"What's going on? Why the Hell are you here? What d'you want?"

"Him." he hissed, nodding towards Dennis. "Out of here. Now. And believe me, Sharon, you don't wanna try me, not if you want me to keep me mouth shut."

Her breath laboured in her throat and a pain twinging in the muscles of her neck, Sharon forced herself to look over at Dennis. She did not quite know what she saw in his eyes, but she knew she could not bear. She swallowed down to lubricate her mouth and said; "I'm coming too."

"No!"

Dennis surprised them both with the desperate volume with which he cried out the word. Sharon flinched, but took a deep breath and carefully slid from the bed, exposing as little of herself at a time as she had to grope for her dressing gown and pull it on under cover of the duvet.

"Yes." she shivered certainly, quickly grabbing fresh clothes. "I won't be threatened Phil, alright?" And she shoved past him. It was not so easy to pass Dennis. He had to step heavily out of the doorway, but even then there was little space. She had to side-step, severely affected by the closeness of their bodies for that brief moment. Her chest was tight and she only allowed herself a breath as she stepped out into the space of the hallway, ready to shuffle off to the bathroom to dress.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Dennis lurched to grab her arm. He hated how terror flamed in her eyes for a moment, how she looked so accusing, but that was not going to stop him quietly pleading; "Please... don't."

She pulled her arm gently back, wishing she wouldn't shake so much. "Give me two seconds OK?"

"No, Sharon, you-"

But she was gone, bathroom door closed, deaf to his pleas. He closed his eyes as he sighed heavily in defeat, hating everything about the hideousness of this moment. His stomach twisted with nausea as he heard the click of the safety catch from behind him and heard Phil step heavily forward, knowing the gun was back in hand.

"S'go. Now."

"Like we can do that!" Dennis spat scornfully. "She knows you're here now Mitchell, you ain't gonna get away with this! You idiot... how can you make her part of this?"

"Weren't my choice was it, Dennis?"

"This is her home, how can you just turn up?"

"I told ya, I ain't got the time!"

"C'mon then, how long's he given ya, Jack?"

"Ain't for you to know is it, Rickman?"

Clicking his tongue smartly in the side of his mouth, Dennis turned on his heel. "No? You ain't gonna kill me, Phil, you ain't got the bottle!"

"Don't tempt me, Dennis!" Phil growled warningly, jabbing the gun forward.

"Gonna do it here, are ya, Sharon, ten feet that way? I thought you cared about her, Phil?"

"I ain't listening..."

"Start." Dennis snarled.

"This ain't about her, not for me!" he snapped angrily. "But it is for you though i'n't it eh? Quite a coup you've pulled off here... screwing your own sister! C'mon, what d'you make of it, she good?"

"Too good for the likes of you and that poxy brother of yours." he spat back.

"What d'you say to her eh, to get her to fall for it? D'you give her all your sob stories about Dalton?"

"She don't know nothing about him. She don't need to - it's done!"

Phil shook his head steadily as he licked at his lips. "Oh no. This ain't done. This ain't done by a long way."

The bathroom door creaked, and both men were distracted by Sharon's reapperance, moving shakily back into the hallway. "Well, at least you haven't killed each-"

But when she met the shameful scene in front of her, her mouth hung agape and words had deserted her.

"Oh... my God! That's what you want? Phil!"

"Sharon, it ain't personal-"

"Don't you dare insult me! What the Hell's the matter with you?" she demanded furiously, swinging round to stand protectively in front of Dennis. "What can he have done, huh? What can he possibly have done to deserve-?"

"Sharon..." Dennis shivered, casing his damp hands around her covered shoulders to try and steer her away. "...please just-"

But she shrugged him roughly off, glaring back at Phil as she awaited her answer. "Well?"

"I'm just the messenger." he insisted desperately.

"Oh-" she scoffed in reply. "-and messengers are required to go round all tooled up are they? Whose, Phil? Who sent you?"

"Don't, Mitchell." Dennis warned. "She don't need to know."

"Stop it!" she shrieked furiously. "Stop patronising me! You think I don't care what happens to you, is that it? This is my home, Dennis and you... you're-"

As words failed her again in her shame, Dennis offered one of his own, trying to ignore how much the delivery and realisation hurt.

"Nothing." he mumbled. "I ain't nothing. I know that."

Sharon's instinct was to tell him how wrong he was, but of course, the words did not come. Because now she couldn't pretend she didn't know how he had looked at her all this time. He looked at her as a lover, and tonight that was what he had taken her for. And oh, she was so grateful to have been brought alive, and had they need left alone in the safety of the bubble his softly spoken words, as sincere and loving as any she had ever heard, then she knew she could have been convinced to stay in the warmth of that bed for many more hours and have him make love to her continuously.

But this was a reality that was cold and cruel and reality was all in itself that frightened her so much. Because she could not just call him a lover, a saviour. He was her lost father's son... he was her brother. And to have word of what they had done shouted around town, face the wrath of judgement made her want to fade away into the nothing Dennis professed himself to be.

Those words cut too painfully at her and so she chose to ignore them, instead turning with an air of accusation back to Phil. "It ain't in you to do this, Phil. No matter what you think, I know you could never hate anyone this much!"

Phil looked at her fleetingly and struggled to keep his breathing level just for that second. Realising the effect direct contact with her was having on him, he refocussed immediately on Dennis, gripping the gun for all the strength his hand might possess.

"I don't have a choice."

"You make your own. You're a Mitchell for God's sake, you always have!"

"No! This is bigger than that Sharon, you don't understand!"

"Then make me understand Phil, c'mon! What the Hell's made you so desperate?"

His hand began to tremor, but Dennis looked back at him with steely eyes as he saw the temptation to reveal all to Sharon flitter across Phil's reddened face, and he shook his head so slightly in warning, his lip beginning to curl with fury.

"No?" Sharon challenged shakily as silence prevailed. "So tell me this, what have I done, what's my sister done to deserve being hurt like this?"

"I said it ain't personal!"

"She worships him, Phil!" Sharon pressed tearfully. "What am I supposed to tell her when she comes home? That you just decided to... walk him off into the night with that in his back?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll get over it when she finds out what you've been up to tonight!"

Closing her eyes to fight the cutting pain of those words, Sharon stepped out of line, looking frightfully between the two men. It was the last thing Dennis wanted to do to hold her gaze, but found he could not stop himself.

"What d'you want me to do?" she demanded coldly. "Apologise? You know me Phil, I've never apologised for anyone - even you, God help me!"

"What, so... this is alright, you and him, in the same bed?"

"Well, he's provin' himself the better man right now ain't he?"

Lowering the gun for a moment, Phil laughed coldly. "I never thought you could be so desperate."

"Oh, she was Mitchell." Dennis hissed out from behind the stock-still woman, tired of silence. "Round about the time she hooked up with you. She saw sense quick enough though didn't she? Bolted from you and chucked your brother's kid down the pan soon as."

It almost satisfied Dennis to see the gun raised again with a threatening jerk, but Sharon was like lead.

"Stop it!" she cried out again with a shudder, looking desperately between the two of them. "Why... Why does it have to be like this? You two just gonna... keep dancing round each other til one of you's bleeding to death on the floor?"

"Well, it don't seem to me like you'd care much either way." Phil retorted, smirking over at Dennis. Like she had been struck by lightning, she whirled round to Dennis, her lip quivering treacherously as she took in the sheer sadness in his eyes. How she despised it when others without a right played on weaknesses. Dennis hated being weak. And Sharon wasn't brave enough alone to let it happen right now.

"Do you believe that?" she questioned gently. But Dennis did not look at her, licking his cracked lips as he glanced past her, anxiously at Phil. "No." she demanded, fighting back fresh tears as she pulled at the edges of his shirt, pulling them a little way up from his chest and into her grappling hands. "Don't think about him. Tell me... do you really believe that?"

"I don't know what I'm-"

"What, and that's it?" she spluttered disbelievingly as she released him. "After everything, you don't- and you'll let him- Who is it, Dennis, who's sent him?" Irritated by his silence, she narrowed her eyes accusingly. "I know you know. Don't lie to me."

He bit at his lip as hard as he possibly could, but the pressure swelled unbearably in his chest. He couldn't lie to her. She was Sharon.

"Jack." he whispered.

"Who's Jack? Dennis...?"

"Dalton."

Her full face clouded with confusion. "Jack Dalton? From the Imperial Rooms?"

"Y-Yeah." he managed.

"How d'you know hiim? Dennis, Jack's.. he's dangerous!"

He laughed coldly. "You know where I've been for the last fifteen years then, don't ya?"

"Fifteen? But you're only... Dennis, why haven't you told me any of this?"

"Because I wanted to leave it all behind me. Fat chance of that, eh? But when you and Vicki- I just wanted... to be normal. I left prison and... it felt like it was OK. But... he don't let go."

"What... What does that mean? Darlin'?"

"He wanted me back in the fold. And I said no. I told him you and Vicki made me better than that. But I was wrong weren't I? Cos she ain't here and you..."

"She can't keep your bed warm enough for you, Dennis..." Phil hissed coldly.

Dennis clawed back his lip to steady it and nodded in defeat.

Sharon could not bear to be responsible for the agony etched in his face and turned, eyes blazing with fury to Phil again."Why's it you here, doing this? Why Phil?"

"I have to protect my family!"

"By tearing mine apart?" she shrieked, a sob tearing through her chest. "What have I ever done Phil? I loved you, just as much as Kate and yet... you'll do this to me? No!" She rushed forward, but Phil had already figured where her gaze fixed and before she could reach to pull the phone from the cradle, he threw her aside and she crashed into the sideboard, landing heavily in the littered floor with a whimper as she tried to compose herself.

Throwing his nemesis a dark look that promised all menance was to be fully intended, Dennis crouched at her side, gingerly reaching to help her, and recoiling in upset as he saw that Sharon's lip was bloodied.

"Oh God..."

"I'm alright..." Sharon insisted distractedly as she pulled herself shakily up. But Dennis was not to be convinced.

"That's where you get off then is it Mitchell? Beating women? Well fuck you! It's me you want you pathetic- not her!"

But Phil mocked him with a low chuckle. "Seems we all want ya these days, don't it, Dennis?"

"C'mon then!"

But Sharon shoved her way past which dutifully separated them as she bolted to the kitchen, her hand cupped around her bleeding lip. Dennis thought nothing of following her and Phil immediately realised he had little choice but to do the same if he did not want his focus to be lost.

Dennis found Sharon slumped heavily against the sink, as if all the strength was gone from her legs. She held a sheet of kitchen towel, roughly folded, to her lip and it was speckled with blood. Wordlessly, he went to her and took it from her, dabbing tenderly at the blood with the corner.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered as he leant to throw the sheet into the bin.

"Are you?" she questioned breathlessly, pushing his hand down away from her face. "Really?"

He nodded dumbly. "I'm sorry I wasn't straight with ya. But it wouldn't have made ya want me here any more, would it? I needed to be here, Sharon."

Trying to comprehend why he was choosing to speak in the past tense, she once again narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "Why are you talking like that? Stop it! You need to be here, you have to be here!"

But he shook his head, dismissing her words. "I can't stay. Cos if I do, it ain't just gonna be me Jack finds, you know that? It'll be you and Vicki too and... you're better than what I am."

"But I'll know it was him!"

"That don't save no-one Sharon. Why d'you think-" He tilted his head jerkily in Phil's direction. "-he's here? It ain't just cos he'd love to put a bullet through my head. It's cos... and he's right... he don't have no choice. Jack don't offer them out."

"What... so you're the favour he's calling in? I'm just supposed to let you go? No! There's nothing... nothing you coulda done wrong."

"Well, I did him outta twenty grand if that helps!"

"What? Why?"

"It weren't for me." he told her defensively, reading the suspicion in her fraught face and detesting it. "Was Tony-"

"Honour amongst thieves?" she shivered in disgust.

Dennis' mouth was unbearably dry. But Phil's presence was hardly about to go away, so Dennis knew he didn't have the time to try and convince her to see things his way.

"If that's how you wanna see it, yeah..."

She sighed heavily, pressing gingerly at her lip again as she turned back to Phil, her next much needed breath getting caught tight in her chest. "So that's why you're doing this? So Dalton don't come after you & Kate & Lou? Please Phil, tell me that's why you're here. Nothing else."

"I'm sorry, Sharon."

But her lip curled hatefully as she stepped heavily towards him. "How you can have the nerve to stand there and say that when you know what you're gonna do! Enjoy it, will ya?"

"No! But there's no other way!"

"There has to be!"

"Why? So you and him can keep going at it?"

"Don't you dare! That... it's nothing- nothing to do with this! You hardly know how to hurt somebody, Phil. It was Grant that would raise his hand, remember? This... it's something you'll never take back."

"I'll get over it." he informed her bluntly. "I have to."

"No. Because I'm not gonna let you do it. You really need him that badly, then you'll have to come through me first and it'll be you explaining your conscience to my little sister!"

Hardly able to breathe. Dennis carefully raised his hands and pressed them around her heaving shoulders, exerting pressure as he pleaded in a broken murmur; "Sharon... move."

"No." she shivered defiantly.

Infuriated, Phil clawed back his lip, his whole face reddening as he raised the gun in a jerk. "Do as he says, Sharon." he hissed viciously.

"No!" she yelled, more fiercely this time as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"Dennis... get rid of her. Get rid of her or I'll do it right here!"

Understanding the threat implicitly, he held onto her all the more fiercely and tried to move to the side. She threw him off savagely demanding; "Don't touch me!"

At a loss what to do, frustrated beyond all understanding, Dennis pulled her roughly round. "Why are you doing this?"

"What have I got if I don't? We need you Dennis, me & Vicki need you!"

"That ain't what it's about." he shot back, eyes narrowed with the doubt as he held her.

"What d'you want me to say?" she begged, eyes sparkling in that terrified way that promised she'd say whatever words he chose now to put in her mouth.

"Oh, you know what he wants to hear, alright Sharon!" Phil mocked from that pace away. "But you can't do it, can ya?" As she blanched guiltily at her lip, the gun began to feel unbearably heavy in Phil's hand. "And I'm telling ya, for the last time, I haven't got time!"

Sharon felt Dennis step dutifully forward, but she forced him back with her own weight. "Wait! What have I gotta do to make you leave us alone? Please Phil, I'll do anything."

"You can't!" he bellowed, treacherous tears pricking in the corner of his eyes now too.

"Why not?"

"Because this is what Dalton wants and if I don't prove to him I've done it then it's my family he's coming for and Kate and Lou are everything! I'm sorry this'll hurt you Sharon but-"

"Why can't he just go? Somewhere, anywhere... just to be safe! Please!"

"No! Dalton'll find out and then he'll be after us all!" Phil did not miss the way Dennis shuddered. "Look at 'im, Sharon, that ain't want he wants!"

She bit hard at her trembling lip as she glanced back at Dennis, who shook his head gently, looking like it took all his effort as her brimming eyes met his.

"But I... I can't-" She sniffled and turned fully towards him, her feet dragging heavily against the floor. "You can't let him! Dennis! There has to be another way!"

He smirked insincerely, mocking the idea another way existed in his simple wordlessness. Hurt, she looked desperately back to Phil, who was starting to look dangerously feverish. 

"No!" he insisted in a hiss. "The only way outta this is if Dalton dies, tonight!"

Her blood running cold at the suggestion, Sharon staggered back, whimpering. Dennis reached and awkwardly managed to steady her, surprised that she did not move immediately to brush him off.

"I'll do it." he said steadily.

Phil chuckled. "Do what?"

"Jack. I'll kill Jack."

"And why would you wanna do that?"

Dennis swallowed down the lump that had begun to rise in his throat. "I don't wanna be dead, Phil. Maybe once I wouldn't have been too fussed, but-"

Catching how he glanced so anxiously at Sharon as she stood backed against him, Phil shook his head slowly in disbelief.

"You're a sick man, Rickman."

"Am I?" he challenged. "Really? You wanted her just as much once, remember?"

"I ain't her brother."

Sharon went rigid in a moment, and as she turned her head away to stare guiltily at the floor, Dennis stepped around her and threw back smartly; "Nah. Had to hurt your own for her though didn't ya? And I know that didn't matter to ya... not once she was yours."

Phil laughed, astounded by what Rickman's trail of thought appeared to be. "And that's what's gonna happen with you, is it? You pop Jack and what, she'll just fall back into your bed to give you the action replay!"

"Shut up." he hissed coldly, stepping closer. "I never asked for your judgement - and believe me, Mitchell, you're the last good-for-nothing bastard that's gonna mean a thing to me, but I'm giving you a way out here! Jack ain't gonna do that so I suggest you take it!"

"So you'll do it, will ya? You'll kill Jack?"

"Yeah!"

"Why?"

He shrugged. "No love lost is there? He deserves it!"

"So how you gonna do it?"

"Well... with that!" He nodded jerkily towards the gun.

"You must think I'm stupid. S'got my prints all over it - you ain't draggin' me down with ya!"

Dennis scoffed, ready to shoot something back he was so riled, but was surprised to find that Sharon beat him to it, in a cold, quiet voice that shuddered with something that sounded a lot like fury.

"How dare you..." she hissed, straightening up and finding the strength to move forward. "How fuckin' dare you! You're dragging yourself down, you can't make him take all this! I won't let him, because it's you stood in our home, threatening us both with that-"

"I told you-" he sighed heavily. "-this ain't about you!"

"You came to kill him Phil, of course it's about me!" she bellowed in raw agony. "You know what it did to me, losing my mum, losing Tom, it tore me apart! But what, just cos you don't like him, you got no problem with doing Jack Dalton a favour and killing Dennis? What kinda man are you - I thought I knew once!"

"What, like you thought you did with him?" Phil spat incredulously. "You di'n't know nothing did ya? Cos Dennis 'ere, he was Jack's golden boy, his second! One day, Sharon, he was gonna take over the whole bloody business!"

"No!" Dennis cried out defensively as he saw how caught Sharon seemed to be, pain etched in her beautiful face as she looked between them both, wishing she knew who to believe. "I was never gonna do that! Never!"

"How- How do I know that?"

Words he did not speak dried out his mouth for a moment, he was stung.

"Cos you... you just have to. I ain't like that anymore."

"But I don't know what you were like." she whispered. "What have you come from?"

"Too much I'm too scared to tell ya." he murmured back, sounding so broken. Transfixed, she watched him swallow down that constricting lump in his throat and looked back towards Phil. "But this... it's the gist of it."

"Please..." she breathed hauntingly, pressing her hand gingerly into his shaking shoulder. "...tell me... tell me you've never-"

"Not yet." he told her softly, fixing her with a piercing look. Then he laughed, the sound forced and mingled with what would obviously otherwise have been a sob."Guess tonight's really turning out to be my night eh?"

None of them moved for what seemed like forever. But Dennis inched forward and extended his hand, trying to pretend it wasn't shaking, even a little. But Sharon saw the tremor more than any of them and bit viciously at her lip, able to taste blood in her mouth. But still she could say nothing, her eyes simply wide with fear.

"Give it here." Dennis demanded in a cold hiss in Phil's direction.

But Phil was rigid, his features still twisted with suspicion and mistrust.

"Mitchell, don't be an idiot!"

"How do I know you ain't just gonna turn this thing on me?"

Laughing cruelly, he glanced at Sharon in that piercing way that made her jolt uncomfortably. "Think she'll let me do ya? You... here? Nah. Cos for some insane, Phil, she loved you like your wife loves you, and you ain't never deserved either of 'em!"

"Oh-" he sputtered, smirking only through his frustration and incomprehension. "-and you did, I s'pose?"

Dennis bowed his head chuckling. "My God, no wonder you hate me so much. Your nanny, your sister, your wife - I've had 'em all Phil."

"So? You lost out, di'n't ya?"

"Did I? I was seeing Kate for months. I was really proud of myself. Pulling a copper, keeping her hanging on. Even when I went to prison, I knew she was thinking about me... us."

"Shut up..." Phil spat, lip quivering as he fought to keep his hand steady.

"First time I met her in Walford. Her face. And she looked at me, just that second too long y'know. And I know she was thinking about everything. But she got it out her head, Phil, she got it all out of her head to love a worthless scumbag like you and God help me, I might not be any better than what you are, but at least I ain't lying to the person that matters the most to me to sneak off and do Dalton's dirty work. You ain't no man Mitchell, where's ya pride huh?"

The temple in his head pulsed dangerously as it swelled and his hand shook and his breath was ragged as he fought to yell out the words hateful enough.

But it was Sharon that screamed out, her voice shattering with the pressure of the hatred she felt, tugging her hands through her hair and pressing her arms fiercely against her ears.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

And with that, she began to sob, doubled forward as they tore through her.

Stunned, Dennis found the courage to step towards her. He even managed to reach out and touch her, his focus on Phil temporarily lost. But Sharon hit out, hitting him away and demanding; "Why do you hate me so much? Why d'you think I wanna hear this? Kill each other! Go on! I don't care!"

With one huge step, Sharon cleared a path for Phil towards Dennis, the emotion holding her own eyes wide daring him to adhere to his anger and pull the trigger and maybe relieve some of her raw agony. Dennis felt his stomach lurch fearfully but somehow found it within him to pull himself together as he had always done. Maybe he wasn't so different these days after all. But Phil seemed the most effective. He looked back at his one time lover, unnerved by how cold eyes so emotive now were. She meant the words she said, and knowing where she had come from, how he had found her tonight, it meant he could not do as she was willing to allow. 

Slowly, he lowered his arm, a jerk in his neck causing him to shake his head in refusal against his will. Because he really thought there was little to stop him wanting to destroy Dennis Rickman, whatever he was to a woman that had once meant so much. Except the very instruction to do it.

Sighing gently, he swung the gun round in his palm and held it firmly by the barrel, extending it to Dennis.

Like stone and hardly able to breathe, Dennis suddenly realised what he'd done, what choice he'd offered and what he'd have to do. More, however, he noticed how Sharon's eyes, although still filled with tears, were uncharacteristically. It was her will he was testing as well as his own as he reached to tug the gun from Phil's sweaty palm. 

She flinched. She gagged on a sharp, shallow breath, but still, the coldness of her eyes did not change. And Dennis still did not understand what he had done and he saw she was not about to tell him.

"I'll be in the car." Phil said firmly, even though his voice seemed to shiver to spite him. "Outside. And you'll follow, you understand?"

But Dennis was not looking at him as he spoke. He was staring with the wonderment and fright of a child at the gun as he turned it over in his hands, admiring its menances with sad, glittering eyes. Because all guns had ever been, even in the threat of Jack's world, were toys. For show, never really used for real, at least, not in Dennis' hands. Only now, it'd have to be. He has gonna have to take the Boss out himself and better, not get caught. Was he really up to that? Tonight?

"Yeah." he whispered tiredly, gaze caught. "Yeah."

Grunting, half satisfied with this solution although obviously not trusting Rickman with a laboured breath he possessed, Phil stomped from the flat, leaving Sharon and Dennis stood there, worlds apart, perhaps never more hurt or confused.

Sharon felt so sick. She was just like him. Just like Dennis, she couldn't take her eyes from the gun that weighed down the hands that had touched her that wonderful way so little time ago, when it might as well have been a lifetime. Could hands that would soon be drenched in another's blood if he left this place really have been responsible for a touch like that? Really?

"Oh for God's sake-" she spluttered in hateful desperation. "-get rid of it."

Looking at her fully, Dennis' dry lips rose into an almost apologetic smile, especially as he moved heavily back into the lounge, lifting his heavy winter coat from the floor. Sharon followed him with a heavy sense of trepidation, somehow captivated against her will by the cruelness of this whole piece.

His coat, she knew, had been slung across the back of the chair she had found him slumped on when she had come home to the darkness earlier that night. And that chair now lay, rolling helplessly on its back on the floor, amongst all the dangerous litter, forced there by the haste of passion Sharon had never really known was hers to experience, to claim.

This in itself did not seem to faze Dennis, but then of course, he was burdened by a lot more now. With no problem, he swept his coat up, shaking away the shards of glass and pulling it on. Somehow it seemed to fall differently around his form. Was it possible that he was somehow more tense now, shoulders stiff and hunched? Burrowing his drenched hands in the pockets, he let the gun drop heavily into the lining, guilt lining his face as he turned again and, his next breath caught agonisingly in his chest, recognised Sharon slumped sadly in the doorway.

She was really shivering, but he hardly had the words or the means to comfort her now. So as he should have done first of all, to save himself any of the indescribable pain he had come to know tonight, Dennis set himself in a determined stride, ready to move past her.

But just as before, she reached out for his arm, tugging at it desperately to have him move back and level with her step. But this time, she was the first one to speak, her voice cracking as she forced out the desperate begging works.

"Please... don't."

He sighed heavily, telling her simply in a defeated whisper; "You can't do this now, Sharon."

"This isn't who you are." she insisted, tightening her hold as a sob shook dangerously through her words.

But he smiled tightly, dismissing her. "But you... you said you didn't know that. And if you don't know, s'never gonna matter who I am. S'my world... that world you hate so much. I'll go back and I'll make it there. You don't have to make like any of this happened."

"But it will, won't it?" she pressed fearfully. "You'll kill him. And then it'll just be you - what are you gonna do then?"

"I'll be alright." he assured her with a slight nod, perhaps more designed to assure himself. "Cos no-one ever hears you there. They never try."

Tears pricked in her eyes and she turned her head away sharply, inwardly hoping he wouldn't see how she was affected. But he could not miss it, biting regretfully at his abused lip to keep his own misery back. There was no place for emotion when a cloud so black and heavy hung over him. Choice would not offer him such freedom, only damnation of an already so wasted soul. And he'd really hoped some good might come of these hours, his courage. But seeing her now, no more his than she would ever be, he knew there was never going to be anything he could say or do.

So he went to move on. Sensing the threat, Sharon stubborn rooted the whole weiht of her body to the floor, proving an obstacle he was never going to be able to get around without offering the insight she demanded so gently as she looked him right in the eye, causing an agony he was without the time or experience to name as she whispered desperately three simple words.

"Stay with me..."

Sharon reeled in the raggedness of her breathing as she fought to look at Dennis with some kind of defiance. But the look he returned was one of such soft confusion and disbelief, the very emotions lining his face as his doubting wordlessness questioned her. And she knew it, feeling herself shiver in protest and gathering all her lost will as she pushed her weight gently against him, stretching up and bruising his mouth with her own before she might think to stop herself.

She was perhaps a little stunned, if not wholly relieved that after a few seconds of the hesitation she herself had created when she had first reached to touch his lips in such a way, found that he reached, somehow instinctively to pull her just that little closer as he returned her kiss, needing to know her body against his in the same way, his hands travelling a tender path up over her hips and burning a little up her torso.

But he seemed to jolt a little as he realised his hands had indeed slipped beneath the edge of her top and had not met protest. He murmured his insistence into her mouth, pushing her back.

"No..." he whispered feverishly, even before he could bear to be fully parted from her lips. Sharon took full advantage of this and kissed him yet more desperately still. He partly detested how weak he was to still respond and pulled his hands back abruptly, forcing her to drop back onto the balls of her feet as he snapped again, firmer now; "No!"

"Dennis, please..."

Narrowing his eyes quizzically as he sank back, he questioned softly. "Why?"

Sharon was aghast. Wound up and frightened. "What d'you mean why?"

"Why d'you want me to stay? What would I be staying for?"

A tortured sob swelled in her raw throat as she returned in a broken whisper; "Me."

"You what?" he pushed in that same deceptive murmur. He watched her bite hard at her lip to keep back the whimper he heard anyway. An insincere smile presented itself in the side of his mouth at that. He was a little in awe. "My God, you'd really do this, wouldn't you?"

"What?"

He tried to swallow down the hideous taste in his mouth as he prepared the words that were to be his reply.

"Prostitute yourself. Just to keep me here, to stop me-"

But it was Sharon that choked on his words, even if they did not come easily from his mouth. "You can't say that."

"No?" he whispered still, voice beginning to tremor with the threat of emotion. "Then you say it. Go on."

But she tilted her head back, the steelyness of her eyes finally defying him in a way she might have wished.

"No."

But he held firm, even as he shivered, feeling himself weaken. "This ain't what you want, Sharon." he insisted.

"How do you know?" she demanded, a sob cracking the very words as the tears overpowered her, burning fiercely in her eyes.

He recoiled a little in a jolt, straightening his back so much it overextended and was painful. "You think I don't know... you think I didn't see your face when I was there, saying all that? None of this is true and a lie ain't gonna make me stay."

He moved past her determinedly, but she leapt into his path, barely breathing and her face shining with thousands of tears as she shuddered; "You said you loved me..."

Anger and pain swept over his face in a moment, and he looked back at her utterly tortured, choking on his words.

"And I meant it." he managed, looking disgusted with himself even as the words left his mouth. He laughed coldly, choking on the sound. "D'you know how pathetic that is?"

Spluttering guiltily, Sharon held her silence.

"Cos now I know, don't I? Now I really know. No more delusions, no more wishing. Cos it's done i'n't it? Idiot that I am, I made my move... I'll never take it back, and all I gotta do is look at you and I know how badly I've screwed all this up. And I'm sorry Sharon, I really am, but I'm begging you, don't use it against me now."

"I'm not against you." Sharon insisted tearfully, shaking her head. "I'm-"

"What?" Dennis demanded, a little more viciously than he could stand."Trying t'save me? Don't insult me darlin' please. If you coulda done that... then I needed you fifteen years ago. Not now. Now's too fucking late. This is what I am."

"It isn't what you have to be. Dennis, you're better-"

His cold burst of laughter dismissed her before all the words were out. "I'm sick sweetheart. Because you are the only thing I've ever really wanted in my life. And you're terrified cos you know if I walk out of here, there's only one thing I can do tonight. And I will, cos it's what I am, been building up to it all my life really. I just... thought I could be summat different for you. But I'm not a fool and I won't be played for one Sharon cos... I ain't what you want. I know that."

"No you don't."

"What does that mean? What does that really mean? You gonna tell me you want me... the way I want you?"

Cleverly, she did not say the words. She simply nodded, staggering that half a step forward again and reaching up with quivering palms to case them around his burning face, holding him steady and forcing hm to look at her against all of his will.

"I'll do anything."

Sighing gently, he reached to touch her the same way. She half laughed a miserable laugh at his touch, trying desperately to savour it as more tears slipped down.

"Yeah?" he whispered, tenderly stroking the running droplets away with the pads of his thumbs. "So... So you'll let me touch you like that... blood on my hands?"

"But it isn't you." she choked out again. "It's-"

"What? Phil Mitchell? No. If you weren't who you were, he'd have done me already and you know it. I'm easy... Dalton ain't. But he's right... it's the only way either of us get to walk away and... believe me that's all I've wanted since the second I saw you and Vicks there... in the churchyard. I'll do this... I have to."

"No..." she pleaded, pushing his hands down.

"Maybe I want to, you ever thought of that? Maybe I really hate him that much."

Her gaze locked on him, eyes filled with tears and alive with such devestated wonderment, she spluttered, but watched him silently for an age before whispering again; "You said you love me..."

He nodded jerkily. "Yeah. And maybe I need to keep doing that, eh? Maybe I ain't ready to let that go."

"But if you go... it'll never be anything."

"And if I didn't?" he challenged without a breath's hesitation. "I'd what? Just make like I never saw the terror in your disgust in your eyes, the fear? Maybe now darlin' I wanna give you reason to be afraid of me." His facial muscles creased however as his first full sob was born as he choked; "Cos this was never it. I meant it. I'd never hurt you. I love you."

"Prove it."

"I will." he assured her, nodding jerkily, wiping furiously at his streaming eyes and inwardly despisng himself for such a show of weakness. "I'm gonna kill him."

"No! Dennis, please, I can learn-"

"Learn what?" he quizzed, a little dumbfounded.

Oh, how Sharon shook. It was taking all her will and strength to have the words she needed rise up and rest easy on her tongue. She drew in one long breath and began, her chest swelled and painful.

"I'm sorry... I never meant for you to be hurt like this, I didn't. But just give me a chance and I swear... I'll love you."

A smile of disbelief broke out across his cracked lips and Sharon allowed herself a breath of relief. But in so few words, Dennis dismissed it all, reaching with that same feverish palm and caressing shakily along her cheek, tilting up her chin and bringing his lips softly to hers. She raised her arms, resting them over his and clinging to him desperately, her hands sunk into him like claws. But he didn't notice, just for one blissful moment lost to the readiness of her response. But her desperation to keep him there was all he tasted.

He broke off as softly as he arrived, whispering an observation he know served to break him.

"Mitchell's right. You shouldn't be so desperate. You're better."

Dennis managed to step around her, still consoled by his proximity. Guilt stabbed at him in hot little pin pricks, but he stole away to the door, leaving the heavy, ugly truth of his words to dawn on her. By the time it did, he was gone, stealing silently down the stairs, his heart pounding painfully with every step and hateful, alien object weighing down his right side, begging never to be touched.

But still he heard her, tortured by the sound of her screaming out his name, suffocated by sobs as she tore after him. Every part of him ached to turn around and hold her tight in his arms, to fade away into such a moment and pretend that another, a million times colder didn't wait in such dark, lonely forest, to define him as nothing more than a murderer.

He quickened his step andreached for the latch, twisting it on his third attempt with shaking hands that could not quite grasp. But somehow, he staggered into the night, the cold air itself tasting sweet in his needy lungs. He forced in deep lungful after deep lungful, savouring them as the last breaths he might take in a half innocent man.

He caught sight of Phil's BMW parked up in the shadows, Phil, hunched as sour faced as ever at the wheel, finding the wait irksome and worrying.

He noticed how he sat up straight upon noticing Dennis on the doorstep. And Dennis gave a curt nod, which told him to trust him to cover the rest of the distance. And then he turned on his heel, admiring the simple place he had been able to call home longer than any other, for the briefest of seconds. He dropped back off the kerb in this fashion, but realised in a moment it was the wrong thing to have done as Sharon tore from the house and flew at him, slamming hard into his already wrecked and indulged body and stealing a series of breaths he knew he would miss.

He was so stunned and at a loss as to what to do that he couldn't even bring himself to hold her as she locked her arms like snaking chains around his neck, shuddering violently against him as she insisted between sobs;

"I won't let you go. I won't! Please Dennis... I-"

"No. No. This ain't your choice. I was, but- we all have to choose wrong once in a while Sharon." He tore her arms from his neck, and she screamed out in pain much less physical than emotional, tearing at a wounded soul with the realisation. Tears burning where they could not be accommodated in once cold eyes, Dennis paced back, faster, needing to escape. "I'm sorry."

Sharon called out for him again, her voice shattering with the desperation this time, but he did not turn around, he just kept walking. He kept his head down as he reached Phil's car, striding round the bonnet and opening the driver's side.

"What the Hell took you so long?" Phil demanded in that gruff tone, but Dennis simply scowled, not willing to talk about anything that had kept him, especially not to Phil Mitchell.

"Just get the fuck out will ya?" he threw back, really yanking at the door so there was room. "Things to do an' all that."

Sighing heavily, Phil swungs his legs out of the footwell and climbed out, the keys held tight in his hand. Dennis laid out his palm expectantly. The two men shared a dangerous look as Phil let them drop heavily into Dennis' hand.

"Don't screw this up, Dennis."

"I won't." he glowered, somehow resenting the warning. He climbed carefully down into the driver's seat and Phil took hold of the top of the door.

"Call me when it's done, yeah? Now go."

Slamming it shut, Phil stepped back, holding a large breath he didn't yet dare breathe as he watched Dennis lean forward to slide the keys in the ignition and straighten up, gripping the steering wheel as he released the clutch and slid away from the kerb.

Phil felt a little sick. Not quite so as he had done when he'd stood in the wrecked flat toweing above him, littered with glass and clothing, alerting him to the most disturbing of dalliances, with the gun weighing down his hand, knowing what he'd have to do and not knowing if he ever would be able to do it, despite all that was negative that he felt towards Dennis Rickman. After all, Phil now had the chance to return to Kate and Louise without being so blackened. But he was not without worries. How much, even now, could he really dare to trust Dennis Rickman?

Caught up in these deliberations, Phil only then realised that Sharon had not returned to the flat. No, she had brought herself even further forward, rigid with the panic and disgust. The tracks her many tears had made down her face were almost blinding in the moonlight.

Phil wanted to step back as she came heavily forward but found that he was rooted to the spot.

"He should have killed you." she hissed sincerely as she shuddered with the repulsion of being so close to the man to have threatened her. "He should have killed you! I hate you, I hate you so much! Do you even know what you've done, do you care?"

Phil barely flinched and that infuriated her more. 

"I'll never forgive you. I'll never forgive you for what you've made him!"

"I didn't make him nothing." Phil argued defensively. "I ain't Jack Dalton!"

"No. You're just the puppet! But now it's alright for you, cos he's gone to make it so you can go home to Kate and Lou. Is your conscience clear now, Phil, is it? What if I told her, eh... what you were gonna do? D'you not think her opinon might change, that she might see you for the cowardly little man you are? Cos you both know how dangerous Jack Dalton is don't ya? And you've sent him to that, knowing what it's gonna do to his head..."

For a moment, Phil bit guiltily at his lip, but let the temptation of a smirk claim the side of his mouth as he glanced at her coldly and said; "Don't worry Sharon. he'll come back alright. And when he's got the blood off his hands, you can have 'em all over you again, can't ya?"

He was made to regret such words immediately, cos Sharon instictively retaliated by hitting him so hard across the face with the flat of her hand, he staggered off balance at the impact.

"I did everything I could to make him stay, keep him safe. And yeah, I offered myself to him... I really thought he'd have me, but y'know what he said? He said I was too desperate and he knew I didn't feel that way. I didn't and the idea that we coulda done... I hated- no. No I didn't. Cos you've straight me straight now a'n't ya, Phil? He's twice the man you could ever hope to be... in every way. I see that now. And Kate... she musta known it all along."

He glared at her venemously as he straightened up, taking in her words. But she strode back, an accusing finger raised commandingly and her voice swayed by sheer determination.

"You'll not do this to him, Phil, I won't let ya."

Panic swirled in Phil's stomach for a moment, and he considered following her, to stop whatever ridiculous notion she had gotten into her head, but found that he was too furious to move, or to care. Besides, she was heading straight back to the flat and what could she do there besides tidy up the mess and wait for Rickman to come back a new man. A murderer.

Angrily, he yelled; "I hope he rots Sharon!"

"Go to Hell!" she screamed back, not even turning round. She pushed against her front door and backed up against it as it shut loudly. There, in the darkness of the hall, she began to quietly cry. But half a minute of having the hot useless tears trickle from her eyes and Sharon was frustrated at herself, dragging in a painful breath as she roughly wiped the droplets away with the back of her hand and rushed up the stairs to the flat. Somehow she managed to ignore the scene of devestation that told of all that should frighten her. But it was nothing. It didn't matter. There was only one wrong to be done tonight and Sharon was loathe to let it happen.

She snatched up her phone from her dresser in her room, catching sight of her rumpled sheets. Her hands began to itch as she passed a sad glance across the bed. She supposed she should have been tearing off the sheets in disgust and yet all she could wonder was if either she or Dennis would ever come to rest there again.

She left the flat again, the phone held to her ear. But the line kept ringing. Dennis was not to be reached. Slamming the front door after herself, Sharon stepped back into the cold night, looking quickly across the street and realising that Phil had indeed skulked off home. How she hated him right now, and she'd never have believed she could. But he was not her concern as she rushed to the corner, hailing a cab that slowed up dutifully beside her. She breathed a choking sigh of relief and pulled at the door, gabbling her destination breathlessly.

"The Imperial Rooms. Quickly!"

~*~

Quickly, it seemed, had thankfully proved quickly enough. The Imperial Rooms seemed stiflingly busy. Sharon had forced her way awkwardly past everyone there at least three times as she searched tirelessly for Dennis, but she didn't catch sight of him. That had made her nauseatingly nervous for a minute or two, but then she had forced herself to breathe and retire to a dark corner with a very large and very stiff drink before she could give any of the sleazebags here the impression she moved so close against them to express her interest and her willingness to be used by them.

Guilt had half suffocated her as she'd staggered to the safety of the shadows with her first whiskey. Because tonight, she had done exactly what all these men longed to do to her and no doubt every other woman that dared to venture here. She'd used Dennis. Vulnerable for all his feelings, that's what he'd told her to do. She'd never meant to do it, and maybe she could have forced herself to ignore his pain if only they were the only thing to have happened tonight. But they weren't, and the threat of what Dennis had offered himself up to becoming was frightening enough to make her feel things she otherwise never would have, only wanting her brother.

But they'd broken all the rules, touching one another in the warmth of Sharon's bed as they had. And she would have let him continue without hesitation if only he had agreed to stay with her tonight, away from the threat of this dark underworld. What did that say of Sharon's own feelings?

And she looked around, glugging the fery liquid down only because it seemed to numb her shaking form, she refused to believe Dennis could ever have been part of this place, like the people all around. Every single man looked naturally angry and venemous, made big by only money and power. The women, they fawned, hoping to be the object used tonight, to be the one that lavished in the infamy and fortune of a new, brief lover. They stood to the side, simpering and giving out their sugary giggles in all the right places, pretending not to hear as the men discussed their business deals in proud, loud voices anyway.

Business deals here seemed to involve obscene amounts of money, torture in its recovery and... and murder. In third party hands so their own stayed clean. Dennis had said he'd never... and yet, where else did he expect her to believe he had fitted into a regime like this? He seemed like such a different man. How could the idea of simply loving someone frighten him so much when he had come from a life like this? Was it because he'd had to live a life so obviously cold?

Sharon knew the truth of Dennis' life here would make her raging blood run cold, but... she refused to believe he could commit murder and whatever it took, she was here to stop it.

Somehow though, catching sight of Jack Dalton appearing briefly behind the bar, accepting a very large bottle of whiskey Sharon herself coulda done with from his help, oh, it relieved her. Because there he was, the hateful, hateful mess of a man, every breath of life still within his expansive body. There was still hope from Dennis and Sharon would do whatever she had to to return it to Dennis.

Draining her glass with one impressive knock-back, Sharon gasped the horrible liquid down and willed herself not not shake as she left the crowds and carefully followed Jack's path. The dark corridor he slipped down into frightened her a little and she groped at the rough, uneven brick of the wall as she went silently down after him. There was no breath in her chest as she went, terrified that one of the men still as Phil had revealed Dennis to be, would leap upon her and hurt her before she even knew what was happening, before she had the chance to save Dennis from this fate. 

But she found that she made it to the only door present in the expanse of brick without disturbance or discovery. The door was firmly shut, and she was still shaking, knowing that she was hardly prepared to face a man like Jack Dalton. But all she had to do was think of Dennis, the fear this man had been able to distill in him for half his life, and she knew she had to do it.

She pulled down the handle wiith a surprisingly steady hand and strode determinedly into the office.

Jack's chair creaked in surprise, but he calmly put the pen down and said, almost knowingly; "Sharon! What a lovely surprise. Business is well, I take it?"

Scowling and hardly believing how much she hated him just by looking into his small cold eyes, she ignored his words completely and forcing back a shudder of repulsion, demanded;

"What d'you know about Dennis, Jack?"

"Dennis?" he echoed in confusion. Unamused, Sharon felt her lip curl, but that seemed to animate Jack, his whole grotesque form heaving as he released a huge knowing breath. "Oh! Your Dennis!"

The wording hit Sharon like lightning, and she felt a little sicker as she jolted and realised how she wanted to take those words. She nodded steadily in agreement, blanching at her lip. "My Dennis. Tell me... what's he got t'do with you?"

Jack pressed his hairy lips together and chuckled. "Well, well Sharon, has our man not been all that honest since he left the clink then?"

"Why d'you want him back, Jack? Why can't he just get on with his life?"

His cold eyes flared. "This is his life, woman. I made him."

"Rubbish." Sharon spat. "He wants out."

"Oh?" Jack pressed with an interest that made Sharon go cold. "Well, young Dennis knows how I'll arrange that for him, Sharon."

"How can you hate him so much?" Curiousity took her over as she narrowed her eyes. "It's cos of you he went to prison isn't it? Isn't it?"

Jack just hunched his huge shoulders, completely unaffected. "Was his choice."

"Choice?" she spat, maddened. "What kinda choice is living the way you do? It's no life! Just give him his life back, Jack. Please. He's gotta be worth that to you, hasn't he?"

He settled back in his chair, swinging gently from side to side and watching Sharon with a homoured interest that unnerved her. 

"Dennis Rickman is worth everything to this business Sharon. I hate to see talents like his get wasted. And when he refused coming back to join us here, I don't mind telling you, he hurt my feelings. I was very upset. And when I'm upset..."

"He just wants to be with-" Sharon stopped herself with a sharp breath from saying "me" and said instead as she knew she must. "-us. Me and Vicki."

But Jack chuckled again, dismissing her. "Don't make me laugh. Dennis, a family man? His family's here - I've always taken care of that boy!"

"He went to prison for you!" Sharon threw back angrily. "You call that taking care of him?" She so nearly screamed out about Phil, knowing that she now faced the man to have sent him, but she knew she couldn't. Because in Dennis' coming her to use Jack's own weapon against him, he was saving Phil's family whilst reluctantly covering his back. And though she was here determined to stop him doing anything that would change him in such a shattering way, she did not want to have little Louise's blood on her own hands tonight, so held her silence.

"I treated that boy as my own!" Jack snapped.

"But he isn't yours." she insisted in frustration. "He belongs with me now. You have to let him go."

"Why?" he snarled, evidently irritated. "So the likes of you can lie back and spread your legs for the night? You're nothing special Sharon. How long's he been shacked up with you eh, and how many women on that miserable little Square have fallen for him? Women are ten-a-penny to Dennis and he knows he can have as many of 'em as he wants here!"

"Yeah?" she spat, her stomach churning. "And what are they Jack, the women here? Prizes? A gold star for a job well done?"

"Dennis took pride. He never let me down." He smirked cruelly at the way he knew Sharon's mind wouldn't be able to help but reel with the hideous possibilities, most of which had been a reality to Dennis at some point. "Then he comes outta prison, you pick 'im up and look what happens!"

"Why are you blaming me for caring about him? Why haven't you done the same?"

Jack turned his head away dismissively, showcasing the many folds of fat in his neck.

"Takes care of himself."

"Because he had to. He wants different. He deserves different."

"You seem to know a lot about him, Sharon. But I wonder, how much can anyone really know about Dennis, the things he's done? Cos if you knew, I doubt very much you'd have had the audacity to come onto my premises like this, barging your way in here and jumping to his defence! You wouldn't have him anywhere near ya or that sister of yours and you certainly wouldn't want him warming in your bed for ya."

Momentarily, Sharon wondered why she'd said nothing to revoke these assumptions. It sounded to her as if Jack had no idea Dennis was Den Watts' son. If he had, there's no way he woulda been so willing to take him under one cruel wing and built him up so as to tempt him with the offer of complete control of the underworld. Jack was the little that remained of the Firm, he couldn't possibly think well of anything that was Den's. So all he'd heard was that his personal favourite had done his time for Jack's own crime and "shacked up" with Den's two daughters. He was assuming Sharon as Dennis' lover - and she hadn't said a word to correct him. 

"I don't want him living like this - looking over his shoulder for you. I'm asking you, please, just leave him be."

The two of them then were locked in a battle of wills, Sharon's heart was pounding erratically against her chest and Jack's eyes were as pale and cruelly defiant as ever.

Sharon could feel herself beginning to shake uncontrollably again, and Jack watched the effect take hold with pleasure. But then his attention was diverted, just a second, and Sharon went rigid as Jack sang out brightly;

"Dennis! We were just talking about you."

In an instant, Sharon turned round, pain shooting all across her back she was without the time to even notice. Because there he stood. Dennis. And all at once, he looked difference from what Sharon had known. He looked naturally angry and venemous. He looked just like all the cold and empty out in the bar. Only, as he registered Sharon stood in front of him, the fright and confusion she had no doubt he had been fighting to hold back since he had driven off and left in the misery of the Square came back to the fore.

His eyes shimmered with panic and vulnerability. And Sharon could not quite recover from how alien he seemed as he stood, clasping the gun as Phil had done. His whole arm seemed to jerk as Sharon's gaze fell upon it. He too had obviously found it embarrassingly easy to reach Jack's office and so had logically expected no further company to be present inside. And to see Sharon...

She wanted to say so much. And yet she could not say a word, her whole mouth dried out and unaccommodating. So Dennis took that honour, in a completely dumbfounded whisper.

"What- What are you doing here?"

But Sharon blanched at her lip afraid that if she spoke, at the sight of him this way, she might cry and she refused to appear so weak in front of either of them.

"Sharon?" he pressed desperately.

Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she dared to respond this time, levelling her piercing gaze.

"Came to stop you doing something you might regret." she whispered tenderly.

"Regret?" he laughed dismissively, lowering the gun a little as he stepped into the room. "Nah. Been a long time coming this, a'n't it, Jack?"

The man nodded, but he looked mildly amused. "Never thought I'd have you gunning for me, Dennis."

"Yeah well-" he hissed through clenched teeth. "-things change a bit when you get the likes of Phil Mitchell waving one of these in your face in the middle of the night, don't they?"

"Oh I'm sorry-" Jack replied in a mortified gasp as he glanced quizzically between Sharon and Dennis. "-was he interrupting something?"

Sharon turned her head away in disgust, eyes fixed to the floor. But Jack kept talking as he leant comfortably back, apparantly at ease with the threat in Dennis' hand. "Gotta say Dennis, I really do admire your choice."

Sharon shuddered in repulsion as he felt those small, icy eyes look her appreciatively up and down.

"Attractive, strong woman. Shame about the breeding mind, but I'm sure you get yourself over that, don't you? Got a mouth on her too, you must have a ball..."

"Believe me, Jack, you ain't got the time to be doing this."

"Why not? S'ages since me and you have sat down and had a catch up, man to man..."

Dennis laughed coldly, staggered. "Yeah, God, where have I been?" He levelled his gaze again, a furious fire blazing in his eyes as he raised the gun again, grasping it with a frightening determination. "Oh yeah, eighteen months inside, 'member that?"

Jack scoffed at his fury. "D'you not think I'm grateful? Why d'you think I want you back home?"

"Home?" he echoed, hissing out the word with an ugly seeming amazement. "That's what you call this?"

"It's where you belong Dennis." he countered fiercely.

"You sent Mitchell to do me in, Jack!" Dennis roared. "Where was I gonna belong then eh?"

"Do you in?" he repeated, speaking each word as if it were ludicrous. "Good grief Dennis, do you not know me at all? I've never sent a monkey to do a man's job, you know that!"

"So what are you saying, Jack? Phil just decided to turn up on the doorstep and have a pop?"

"Whatever Mitchell does ain't nothing to do with me boy. Besides, the whole world knows you hate each other!"

"Not half as much as I hate you right now." Dennis insisted coldly, knuckles flexing almost of their own accord as he held the gun.

"Well c'mon then-" Jack taunted, hauling himself out of the huge desk chair and moving forwars. "Shoot me. Do it 'ere. I'll come a little closer if you like, give you chance of a better shot!"

"I've never needed your help." he spat hatefully, sliding his fingertip in against the trigger.

Sharon rushed forward, her limbs feeling like lead. But somehow, she managed to lift her hand and press it gently to Dennis' back, alarmed at how raised and knotted his muscles were as he fought to find his will. Dennis winced, as if he'd just been stung and turned his head to the side.

"Go home Sharon." he demanded bluntly.

"Yeah, cos I'm really gonna do that now you're here aren't I?" she scoffed nervously. "I'm not going anywhere without you Dennis."

"Well, I'm busy aren't I?"

Sharon reached for his trembling arm and stepped round him as she pulled it down.

"I won't let you. I won't."

He smirked insincerely, but Sharon was more caught by the way he was shaking.

"You're better than this." she repeated anxiously.

"You don't know nothing." he snapped back.

"I know you're not a murderer." she inisisted softly. "I know how much you hated being inside so I know the last thing you want is to go back on his account. Don't let him, don't let Phil do this to ya."

"But you know I ain't got a choice." Dennis spluttered desperately in reply, fighting back the obvious threat of emotion.

"I'm your choice darlin'."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. After a few moment's heavy silence, he pleaded breathily. "Don't do this to me. Please Sharon, don't do this to me."

"I'm not doing anything. It's your decision."

"Yeah." he agreed sadly, nodding jerkily. "And you know what? I'd sooner pop meself than have ya lie to me. Don't do it."

"I'm not lying, Dennis. You know I'm not."

"I told ya-" he continued, almost with an accusing edge to his voice. "-I ain't what you want."

"And you're right." she agreed steadily. "I could never want you like this. You have to walk away."

"Listen to the lady, Dennis." Jack pressed with that commanding tone. But Dennis did not appreciate it, lunging past Sharon with the gun raised again, full threat intended.

"No! He had no right to be anywhere near her, and you had no right to send 'im. And I'm gonna do this just for that, Jack, cos you couldn't just leave me alone!"

"I think a lot of you, Dennis, that's why!"

"You manipulated me into doing every filthy little job you needed doing from the start! I was a kid, I didn't know no better! You wrecked me, Jack. Because I was weak. Because how much I thought of you." A sob rose from his tight unwilling chest. "You were the closest thing I ever had to me old man, how pathetic is that? This... it was all I had and I really thought it was summat. But I'm stronger these days Jack. I know what's really out there and you are nothing."

Irritation flared across Jack's reddened, sweaty face. "I saved you, Dennis."

"You worked me!" he spat viciously. "Fuckin' puppet master you were, never caring about the lives you screwed up. You're not gonna do that to me anymore!"

"I cared, of course I cared. You were my boy! You shone Dennis, above 'em all."

"I wasn't even human!" he roared, agonised.

"So what are you now?" Jack questioned with a hiss.

But Dennis bit hard at his lip as the tears built in his eyes, unable to fathom an answer. Sharon felt it cutting at her heart, because all she saw was the already damaged boy Jack had brought into this kinda life fifteen years ago.

"Mine." she whispered, stepping back into his path. "However much you deserve this, he's not gonna rot for you, Jack. He's not. Why the Hell should he pay Phil's price?"

"Price? It's no price... he'll be playing into his hands!"

"No." Sharon argued fiercely. "I know the Mitchells-"

"Mmmm." Jack replied, the corner of his lip springing up into a smirk. "We all know about that don't we, Sharon? What a desperate little whore you must be!"

Dennis' arm jerked and he clenched the gun, snarling; "Shut it."

But Sharon absorbed his words, hardly affected by them. "They're not killers. You sent Phil. What did you think you were doing, playing on the aminosity between them? You really thought Phil'd be able to kill him?"

"I thought he might appreciate the chance, yes! But I knew he wouldn't. I've been waiting for you, Dennis, see. Waiting for you to come back to business."

Dennis laughed in cold astonishment. "So what was this, eh? What you calling him coming to kill me on your say-so, Jack? Light shove in the right direction? D'you think I'd find it funny, did you really think I'd want anything to do with you?"

"Well, I'd say this is something, son."

"Don't!" he spat furiously, knuckles white with the pressure around the gun. "Just get up."

Sighing as though he was finding the whole episode tedious, Jack moved away away from the desk and stood again on his own two laboured feet. Dennis moved in an arc across the room, the threat of the gun in his hand causing Jack to counter him.

"Wall. Now."

Shifting his weight a little, Jack stood against the wall. Dennis moved slowly towards him and before he could talk himself out of it, jabbed the barrel of the gun hard to Jack's temples. Seeing how the old man flinched, Dennis laughed soullessly.

"This feels a lot easier than I thought it would." he confessed in a calm, quiet voice. "Maybe it won't be so hard after all."

"Dennis..." Sharon pleaded, tears blindly her as she watched, rigid a few paces away.

"Get out of here." he told her firmly.

"No! Not without you!"

"I have to do this." he spluttered, the pure hatred consuming him.

Choking a little, she shoved between Jack and Dennis, standing before her impromptu lover as the sobs coarsed through her and the tears continued making tracks down a still so beautiful face.

"To punish me too?"

Dennis staggered back a few half-steps in confusion and bewilderment. "I'm not trying to punish you..."

"Then why won't you hear me?"

"Because you shouldn't be here. You were never supposed-"

"I have to be!" she cried out desperately. In the next second, she bit at her lip in a heavy pause as she composed herself to whisper; "I love you..."

He began to shake violently as he glanced back at her, tearful and choked. "I told you... I can't stand you lying to me. Don't!"

"Then believe me!" she pleaded, stepping up to him and catching her hands around his tear-stained face, forcing him to look at her.  "I love you. And I promise... we'll make it right, so long as you come home..."

"I... can't."

"Yes... Yes, you can! I'll be there darlin'... I'll be there right beside you, I promise."

Against both of their wills, they began to cry as they clung so pathetically together, so full of need and desperation. As Dennis had reached out to hold her, half falling against her, Sharon had been able to take the weight of the hateful instrument in her shaking, feverish palm before it fell from Dennis' grasp to the floor. Glad to have freed him from the threat of what he thought he had to do here, she held him tighter, half breathing and half not, but determined all the same that she might learn to love him as he so desired and fit these shattered pieces together again.

Dennis was lost in the relief and the need for her closeness, and so neither of the drained lovers saw or even expected Jack Dalton to rip Sharon from Dennis' arms, pulling her up against him as he spun her roughly round, making her scream out with shock and pain as he wrenched her, stealing the gun from her hand and jabbing the barrel into her neck.

"Maybe you're right, boy-" he snarled in Dennis' direction as Sharon struggled to breathe against the force of Jack's heavy arm locked around her neck and remain calm simultaneously. "-maybe these things need doing at my own hand! Can't trust anyone else to do the job properly can we, eh? I trusted you!"

Looking very much like he'd had his very soul ripped out and there was little more to live for, Dennis moved forward. "This ain't about her Jack!"

"Oh, but it is!" he spat out victouriously. "See if I get rid of her, the way Mitchell was supposed to get rid of you, then you've got nothing. Nothing but me and what I gave you!"

"Alright!" he roared, agonised. "So I come back. Alright! Just... let her go."

Soundlessly, Sharon's tearful gaze locked on Dennis' as she pleaded in a broken whisper; "No..."

"You're lying to me Dennis!" Jack seethed in accusation, jerking Sharon's whole body up and causing her to choke and wheeze as his arm momentarily crushed her windpipe. "I know you and I don't appreciate it!"

Without thought, he shoved Sharon away, and she collapsed against her knees, her chest ripped open as she fought to recover her breath. Her vision was blurred, but she did not miss the way Jack had swung out his arm, instead turning the threat o the gun on Dennis. There were tears still trickling down Dennis' cheeks, and he wasn't moving.

"I never thought I'd have one of me own turn on me. Not you, Dennis, no. I thought we meant something to each other you and I. I wanted to get you to the top of your game... you played so well, but now? Now I'm just angry and you know what happens when I get angry, my boy."

But Dennis didn't even blink. His eyes were blazing with a devestated kinda defiance.

"Come on then." Dennis shivered, defeated. "Do it."

Jack's templed swelled and his small eyes looked colder than ever. His hand was alarmingly steady as he raised the gun. "You sure?"

"Positive."

But as Jack slid his finger obediently in against the trigger, Sharon pushed herself from the floor with all her might, half slamming into Dennis to shield him as she pleaded;

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Dennis, please!" But he didn't listen, just held her roughly so as to move her aside. She resisted him as much as she could, unwilling to leave him open to such a threat whilst she was there. 

But Jack was getting irritated, growling; "Out the way, woman! He asked for this!"

"No!" she screamed, furious at the same time as being broken. "You'll have to shoot me first!"

Jack smirked, amused it seemed by the offer. "You know, I might just be willing to take you up on that!" But as he raised the gun again, Sharon threw herself at him, reaching up with her hand to tussle the gun from him as she writhed to remain free of his clutching grasp.

"Sharon, what are you doing?" Dennis questioned desperately as he tried to pull her away. 

However she fought him too, almost sobbing as she demanded; "Let me go! This isn't going to happen!"

"It's too dangerous!" he argued, voice cracking as he struggled to keep a hold of her.

"I don't care - I just want you! Get off!"

But he couldn't do that. What kind of unspeakable coward would he have been if he did not help her as much as she had foolishly strived to help him? He reached with clammy hands to join the tussle for the gun.

"Dennis, no!" Sharon cried out, feeling his hand brush against her and knowing what his intentions were. She pushed him aside and felt her hand close around the shape of the gun, yanking it savagely from Jack's determined grasp. But both men reached out to claim it from her seemingly innocent hands and suddenly she was warring with them both.

And in the next second, a bullet exploded with a deafening bang from the barrel and Jack Dalton was struck, wheezing on one shallow breath as he slumped to the floor, his cold eyes rolling back.

Dennis sank to his knees immediately, pressing a fingertip fleetingly into the folds of Jack's neck. He recoiled almost immediately.

"Oh God..."

Sharon, meanwhile had barely moved. Frozen with shock, the gun that was weighing down her hand still slipped from her sweaty grasp and crashed to the floor, heavier with her guilt as she took in Jack's motionlessness, pressing her shaking hand to her mouth to stop herself heaving with the nausea that overwhelmed her at the realisation.

"I've killed him, haven't I? I've killed him!"

 
In the next second, Sharon's body didn't seem to be within her own control. She shuddered dangerously, convulsing and choking like she might be sick even though the intensity with which she sobbed prevented the opportunity. Her eyes were filled with desperate and terrified tears that spilled over in thousands without her permission, her hands still held, shivering around her mouth, unable to take her eyes from... from the body. She had done this, at her own hand and they both knew it, the gun lying with an accusing stillness just against Jack's leg.

"Oh God.... oh God... oh God..." Sharon shrieked hysterically, over and over. The amount she seemed to be winding herself up frightened Dennis, and he got up again almost before he had even glanced at her, pulling her protectively into his arms and shielding her from the view as he released anxious shushing noises into her hair.

"It's OK..." he soothed in a shaky whisper, inwardly berating himself for his very tone and holding her even more fiercely still. "I promise you... it's OK... I've got you now... shhh."

Sharon nodded desperately, the point of her chin jabbing into his shoulder blade they were holding one another so close. Her tears were wetting the fibres of his coat drastically, but he didn't care, very able to feel his own burn.

But still Sharon's sobs tore through her as she clung childishly to him, stroking with a viciously tremoring hand up and down the nape of Dennis' neck, just to be assured of his closeness.

"I'm sorry..." she sobbed feverishly, hardly able to breathe through her devestated apologies. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean... I thought- I thought he was- and I didn't want- I just wanted you. I'm sorry!"

"No..." he whispered back, a little softer now as she shuddered in his arms. "...don't be sorry. I'm right here darlin'... it's OK."

"It isn't. It isn't!" she gulped insistently. "I... I killed him."

Shaking her a little as he pulled back, gripping her shoulders, Dennis gave her a piercing look at level gaze and said steadily; "You don't know that!"

She looked back at him through her thick veil of tears as if he were mad. "It was in my hand." she shrieked, spluttering as she did so.

But Dennis threw back a defiant look as he crouched down and swept the gun from the floor, making Sharon scream in horror and involuntarily leap back a pace as he touched it, straightening up with it in his hand and observing with an eeirie calm; "S'in mine now..."

Sharon whimpered, shaking her head so desperately, pain flamed in her neck. "Please..." she pleaded with that haunted, broken voice. "...get rid of it."

Nibbling at his lip, Dennis bowed his head sombrely and dropped it heavily into the lining of his coat. "I will." he vowed. This didn't seemed to settle Sharon at all and she shuddered.

"It's gonna have my prints all over it. They'll know I did it, they'll know it was me!"

"They?" Dennis echoed through narrowed and yet almost placid eyes. "You were never even here..."

"What?" Sharon breathed in confusion. "Dennis, don't be mad, of course I am." Gulping back another wave of nausea, she cast a tearful glance down upon Jack's lifeless body. "He's dead because of me."

But Dennis stepped close once again and said firmly; "It weren't you sent to kill him."

"But I did!"

He gripped her shoulders roughly and pulled her forward, a searing look in his eyes. "Don't ever say that again."

"It's the truth." she sobbed, her knees buckling a little.

"No it isn't. No-one knows you were here. No-one knows why. That's the way it's gonna stay. Alright?"

"What... What does that mean?"

"It means if anyone asks any questions, I'm the one that answers."

Her eyes little more than watery slits, Sharon scrutinised him. "You're gonna lie for me?"

"If I have to."

"No!"

"I didn't offer a choice Sharon!"

"But... But he's Dalton! Dennis, you know the police will get involved."

He almost smiled at her. "Yeah. And I know they're a damn sight more likely to believe I did it than you! Why the Hell would you even be in a place like this? You go blabbing your mouth confessing, they'll come straight for me anyway cos it's gonna look like you covering up for me!"

"I just... wanted to protect you."

"Yeah, and now I need to do the same for you, don't I?"

Tearfully, she shook her head as he guided her quickly from the room, trying to stop her from looking back at the body.

"I'm not asking you to. Dennis, you'll go back to prison."

"I don't care." he said briskly.

"Well, I do!" she insisted with a half broken scream as she turned to face him. "It's not where you belong. This was never where you belonged!"

"You don't know the half of it."

"Don't I?" she challenged with a flare of anger. "You could hardly raise that gun, let alone fire it. And I've... I've killed him. We both know it was me. Now... I'm something you could never be!"

"No." Dennis insisted, shaking his head feverishly in dismissal. "No, that ain't true. I'd have done it if you weren't there. It weren't never no more than he deserved!"

"Yeah? And is that what I'm supposed to reel off to the coppers when they break the door down just to start calling you a murderer? You really think I'll be able to keep my mouth shut?"

Pulling roughly on her arm as they somehow met the normality of the cool, yet stiff night air without being met by someone, anyone to raise the awkward questions they needed so desperately to avoid; Dennis half threw Sharon against the wall, the fire in his eyes letting her know that he had the words to answer as he stood against her.

"Did you mean it?"

"What?" she murmured, utterly bewildered.

It hurt as she watched his eyes slowly fill with tears of disbelief and drop back, laughing flatly. "That's a no then!"

Sharon lurched away from the wall, tugging on his palm, little drier than her own. "No, Dennis... mean what?"

He pulled his hand back, looking stung. "Sharon, if you don't remember then it obviously don't-"

But she received like a kick in the chest, not even breathing she stepped immediately up to him and pressed his mouth tenderly.

"Why couldn't you just have stayed with me?" she whispered tearfully as she drew back. "Why?"

He sighed gently. "What woulda been the point?"

Sharon recoiled, her lip trembling as she fought to keep the intense feeling of sickness down. "You'd rather... cover my back for murder than let me-"

"What?"

"I thought I was gonna lose you! Why d'you think I came tearing after you? Did you think I was gonna sit back in the flat and wait for you to come back... wait to see if you were gonna come back? It made me so, so sick to think you could be in any kind of danger... doesn't that prove I feel... something?"

"I don't want something. I want you!"

"I was yours. I was so scared, I didn't understand. But darlin', I do! It was... and then you got up and left me. You left me cold in that bed like I didn't mean anything. And I thought you made sense. But you left me for this... how could you expect me not to follow?"

"This isn't your world."

"It isn't yours either! I thought you wanted different, I thought you wanted me."

"Don't ever question me, Sharon!" he demanded in warning. "I'd do anything for you."

"Yeah?" she shivered, wiping the black tears roughly from her eyes. "You still gonna feel that way in twenty years gone by in some hideous prison cell, a martyr to the idea that you love me!"

"Yeah." he returned firmly without a moment's hesitation. "Because I'll know I saved you the Hell that would rip your soul out. You're never gonna test me there darlin', cos I'd sooner have your guilt choke ya. This is Jack Dalton, he's nothing, he ain't your crime. I ain't never gonna let it be. And if you don't know you're everything to me then..." He dropped his hand into his pocket, and Sharon saw his knuckles clench around the shape of the gun. "...I might be about to get one last shot outta this before I chuck it in the canal. And maybe I'll follow eh?"

"You wouldn't."

"Why not? Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you know I need you. Because you're here, you're alive... and I need you to feel what I felt. I don't wanna have to feel this heavy, this guilty. I just want to be held. Try and tell me you won't do that."

Wordlessly, he stepped up and put his arms around her, drawing her close and kissing her hair. When he felt how readily she relaxed, he murmured; "I won't let you be guilty darlin'. This weren't your fight. And I'm sorry..."

"I did it for you." she choked, nestled rigid against him. "I.. I don't wanna lose you."

"Shhh..."

"No..." she sniffled, pulling herself up straight as she somehow found new strength. "Please... listen to me..."

But she laughed weakly as she found she had no words and was simply wiping away the falling tears as they looked at one another. A little settled as he lifted his hand from his pocket and stroked away stray hair from her moistened face, she pressed her hand over his to savour his touch and whispered with a tearful sincerity;

"I can mean it... I swear."

"Please Sharon, don't...."

He turned his head away but she stretched anxiously up on her toes, cupping his face and realigning his gaze as she insisted. "No... no, it's alright. I promise. I'm not gonna hurt you... I just wanna kiss you."

"No. I'm not asking you to keep me sweet. I'm gonna do this anyway alright, you're gonna be OK."

Wiping her eyes still, Sharon shook her head, frustrated that he still wasn't hearing her. "I'm not asking you to protect me, I've had to look after myself. I want you to love me. I want you to mean the things you said... when it was just us. I wanna believe you still."

He nodded, tearfully. "What d'you want me to do?"

"Come home. Just... stay with me."