The Unknown

Darts

Mike was waiting for Shane outside of Marlena's office when he finished his session.

"How 'bout we head to Sheffield pub and have a pint or two?"

"Sounds like heaven right about now, Mike. You have no idea how badly I need this." Shane is grateful he has Mike as his best mate and confidant.

After arriving at the bar and ordering their first round, Mike initiates the conversation he's been wanting to have with his best friend for some time now.

"I know Marlena probably shrunk your head enough for today but I just want you to know I'm here for you if you want to talk..." Mike pauses, trying to find the right words without sounding too much like an after-school special ( cue the shooting star & 'the more you know' ) "...about anything, ya know. I mean I think of you like a brother and I just couldn't imagine if..." Mike intentionally lets his voice trail off mid sentence.

Shane stares at his almost empty glass of Boddingtons, waiting for Mike to get it all off his chest.

Mike signals the bartender to get Shane another round before continuing, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying in any way, shape, or form I think I could replace your brother." Mike nervously rubs his left thumb along the Sheffield logo on his second glass of Guinness. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that none of us can truly know how you feel, having not been through it ourselves, but we know it's gotta suck so..."

Sensing how much Mike is struggling, Shane puts him out of his misery, "Mike, it's okay. I know you're here for me and you just want to help. I get it, it's alright." Shane takes a deep breath trying to find the courage to carry on. "I miss my brother almost every single day and any day I don't think of him, I feel guilty as hell for being a shit brother and a lousy excuse for a human being. I know I can't turn back time or change anything that happened and Marlena's right when she tells me to live my best life to honour my brother but it just doesn't seem like enough."

Shane slams the remaining Boddingtons in his glass and swiftly picks up the refill. He has every intention of drinking his troubles away today in an effort to numb the pain of his freshly tapped raw emotions. Shane and Mike continue to have a few more rounds as they sit in silence.

Shane never allowed himself to properly grieve his brother, always feeling he didn't deserve to cleanse his soul. No, he only deserved to suffer for what he did.

Breaking the silence, Shane cries out, "I killed him, Mike. I killed my baby brother." Shane buries his head in his hands as the tears start to fall. For the first time in twenty plus years, Shane is facing his demons head on. He lifts his head and roughly wipes the tears from his face, annoyed by his own frailties and self-pity. "I know I have to forgive myself, Mike, but how? How can I possibly atone for this most heinous of sins?"

Seeing the anguish on his best friend's face, Mike wants nothing more than to alleviate Shane's  suffering but even he knows a higher power is required for a case of this magnitude. There's only so much comfort a psychiatrist, best friend, and several pints of alcohol can provide. Three down and one to go, Mike thinks to himself.

"I think you should talk to Pastor Doug. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, how 'bout we throw some darts?"

"Sure, if you don't mind me kickin' your ass." The alcohol may be fogging Shane's recollection of his supposed dart throwing prowess.

"Care to make it interesting, Admiral?" Mike is quick to attempt to capitalize on his friend's unrealistic, alcohol fueled confidence.

"What did you have in mind, doctor?" Shane is more curious than suspicious at this point.