Missing [ST]

One Hundred And Five

"My boy's gonna get all the chicks when he's older," Steven whispered, in a sing-song manner. "Inherited my penis to do the...world-er?"

He questioned his rhyming at the end, holding his son's little feet in one hand, and he received nothing but a baby noise, and a bit of dribble for his inappropriate pep-talk.

"-in the cabinet, Liv. There's a pack of bobby pins in there!"

Enzo started whimpering, probably from his father's stupidity.

"Shh, little man." Steven cradled his son normally. "I know you want a cuddle with mummy."

It was mid-morning following the dramatic night, and Steven had a phone call to make to a guy who had saved his life two and half years ago.

His phone was face down on the table, number on a notepad in Leah's handwriting, and he was waiting for her to take Enzo so he could leave a message without the possibility of a baby crying in his ear or puking on his shoulder.

"Liv has about as much patience as you do when you're looking for something," Leah said, on her return. "If you open a cupboard or the fridge and it's not in direct eye-line, you give up."

"Because..." Steven made a pout that showed he wanted a kiss as he handed Enzo over. "We have people like you to find things for us. Why waste the effort?"

He got the kiss, undeserved for being cheeky.

"I found them." Liv had a guilty grin, holding up the packet of bobby pins in one hand.

"Ah, funny that." Leah put her free hand on the back of her head when she was close enough. "It's what happens when you use these things called eyes. Utilise tes yeux, hm?"

Steven waited until they were in the living room, but both his knees were jogging in sync from nerves, reading the number on the notepad.

It was just to leave a message, and ask for a call back when it was convenient, but the thought of dialling Will's number was beginning to feel a bit daunting. So, when he eventually plucked up the courage to pick up the phone and hold it against his ear, he was not expecting the line to connect on the other end.

"Y'ello, Will speaking."

Steven laughed awkwardly.

"Jesus, I didn't expect you to pick up."

"Steven?" At least his voice was recognisable. "Wow, it's good to hear from you!"

"Yeah, no-yeah it's me." He recovered his composure, having made a hard, inky dot with a pen on the notepad. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting to have this conversation now."

"Well, I don't give my personal number out to many people, so if it rings I do make every effort to pick up, plus sleep has been...eh, not the best, and any opportunity to avoid trying, I'm taking. But anyway, what's going on? How can I help?"

Steven couldn't agree more with the sleep, though he made an assumption that it wasn't because Will had a month old son keeping him awake.

"Yeah, so I was hoping you could um...disclose some information about..." Steven trailed off, not quite knowing how to express something he feared so much. "You know when you...when you got me from the uh-"

"Matty's dead, Steven," Will interrupted. "Was killed from an order from the top, not that long after you left actually. And that Russian guy is in a prison in Syria and will probably be killed there, if he hasn't been already."

Steven shuffled in his chair, sitting up straight.

"Oh, I-I uh...Shit, okay."

There was a brief pause, but it already felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.