decandantfics

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 6

                                            I’ll Be There

The McPartlin residence was a flurry of activity Wednesday morning, takeaway menus being found and set out on the kitchen table, family room being spruced up, and the stashes of Dec's favorite tea and snacks being checked. Ant was nervous but eager to see his friend after so long apart – for them, if they weren't on separate holidays, over 2 weeks without seeing each other was ages – and he was determined to set him at ease and help him to open up about what was troubling him. Ant knew now that he'd messed up by not being there for Dec over the past few weeks, and he knew Dec wanted him to put himself first, but at the same time, Dec needed him. That much had been made crystal clear by Christine – and Ali had confirmed it upon close examination by Anne-Marie. So Ant had made it his goal to get to the bottom of Dec's bizarre behavior and clear the air between them. Ant had made a vow to always be there for his friend, and he felt he had failed at that with everything that had happened in the past few months. He was going to make it right.

Dec had agreed to arrive at around 9:30am, in time for a late-ish breakfast to start the day off right. It was now almost 9:45 and Dec hadn't arrived yet. Typical Declan, really. If he'd been on time, Ant would have been more worried. As it was, he knew Dec would probably drive in any minute now, with or without a good excuse for his tardiness. Ant was currently in the kitchen, cooking up Dec's favorite breakfast – poached eggs with crispy bacon – and brewing a pot of his special tea. He knew he'd probably get scolded for going to all this trouble – Dec was expecting just some cereal and yoghurt – but he didn't care. He was going to spoil his friend today, whether he liked it or not.

Ant had been getting a lot of texts from Dec over the past few days, ever since the tabloids revealed his new relationship, just checking up on him, making sure he was okay. And yes, Ant had been struggling a bit, but he just wanted to move on. He didn't want to dwell on the past anymore. Lisa hadn't taken it well, and was reacting very publicly via social media. He was trying to avoid it all as much as possible. He didn't like the fact that Lisa was hurting, but at the same time, they had separated months ago. She had just as much right to move on as he did; it's just that he'd moved on faster. And he knew it wasn't going down well with some members of the public, but it was his life at the end of the day, and Anne-Marie made him very happy. Dec was being very supportive – as ever – even though he still just seemed a bit off somehow.

Ahh, there was the doorbell....And of course Dec was barging right in, using his own key to Ant's house rather than waiting for Ant to come to the door. Chuckling to himself as he heard Dec entering the foyer, Ant checked the time. 9:50am. By Dec's standards, that was pretty good – Ant was impressed! Turning the stove plate down to low to keep Dec's eggs warm, Ant walked through to the family room, meeting Dec halfway. Pulling his friend into a gentle hug, Ant said a cheery "Morning!" before pressing a swift kiss to the top of Dec's head which was currently tucked under his chin. Dec's grip on Ant was tight, as if he was afraid to let go lest he lost him forever. But Ant just dismissed his clinginess as being a result of their long time apart recently.

Speaking softly, Ant finally disentangled himself from Dec's arms, holding him at arm's length, "I cooked ya your favorites, Dec. Come on." Ant gave Dec a gentle shove in the direction of the kitchen, keeping his hand in place on his friend's shoulder as they walked into the kitchen. Gesturing for Dec to take a seat at the kitchen island, Ant hustled over to the stove, filling Dec's plate up with (mostly) healthy goodness and pouring his tea. Placing the feast in front of him, Ant grinned at his flabbergasted friend.

"Ant, you really shouldn't have!" Dec began in a small voice, "Why're you doing all this for me?"

"Why, mate? Because you're me best pal! Does there have to be another reason?" Ant had been expecting a scolding, not this peculiar reaction. It almost seemed like Dec didn't think he was worthy of Ant's care.

Dec just stared at Ant for a moment, studying him, before imperceptibly shaking his head as if at himself. Deciding to ignore his friend's strange behavior for the moment, not wanting to ruin his appetite with what he suspected would be a tough conversation, Ant patted his friend's shoulder while making his way to the stove to fill his own plate with food. He pulled up a stool next to his friend and tucked into his breakfast, nudging Dec's elbow in an attempt to prompt him to do the same. Ant was ravenous, not typically eating breakfast this late in the morning unless he'd had a lie in after a show day, and Dec was never one to have trouble putting away food. But now he was sort of toying with his food, pushing his eggs around on his plate. He looked guilty, oddly enough.

"Go on, lad, eat up!" Ant commanded jokily, pausing in his rapid demolition of his food to give Dec a quick side hug, squeezing him against his side for a moment in reassurance. That seemed to shake Dec out of whatever he'd lost himself in, and he started eating, although still not with the usual Declan gusto.

"So how's Ali, then?" Ant tried to start a conversation to break the unusually uncomfortable silence that had settled between them. Normally, Ant could almost always tell what Dec was thinking, but other than that strange guilt he'd picked up on earlier, Dec was unreadable at the moment. It was quite unsettling.

"She's not great, if I'm honest. Just taking it easy, trying to rest as much as possible. She's getting better, though, the docs said. Just gotta manage it until the baby's due." Dec raised his gaze from his plate, and Ant could finally get a good look at him. There were deep lines of exhaustion etched into his face, puffy bags under his eyes, and his neck muscles were so taut they were clearly defined. Really, his whole body screamed of stress and extreme tiredness. Dec was slightly slumped on the island bar stool, his chin resting heavily on his left hand while he reached for his mug of tea with the other. Taking a long gulp, his eyes turned to Ant again, catching him studying him intently. "What?"

Smiling sadly at him, Ant sighed, "You really need to take better care of yourself, Deccy. You look done in."

"I can't, though, can I!" Dec exclaimed, before his voice faded again, "I'm working out, trying to eat healthy and all, but...." Voice trailing off abruptly, Dec seemed to stop himself before he could reveal something he clearly didn't want Ant to know. Ant suspected it was a comment about work, maybe something along the lines of "It's hard work doing everything all by yourself." He was on more comfortable ground now, Dec was readable again. It was reassuring to know he wasn't so out of tune with his best friend that he'd lost their somewhat telepathic link.

Dec had now finished his breakfast, having eaten everything on his plate – Ant had no idea what an important milestone that was – and was pensively nursing his cuppa, both hands wrapped around the mug as if soaking in the warmth it offered.

"Come on, love, let's go somewhere more cozy," Ant suggested, noting the tiny smile that quirked Dec's lips at his use of that fond endearment. Clearing away their dirty dishes and placing them in the sink for later, Ant gestured for Dec to go ahead of him to the family room. Dec seemed dizzy when he got up, swaying slightly and desperately clutching at the island counter for a moment, before catching himself and managing to slowly make his way into the next room. That brief moment of unsteadiness was greatly worrying to Ant – he had no clue Dec hadn't slept in over 36 hours at this point – and he was further surprised when Dec chose to sit by himself in a plush armchair rather than settling down next to Ant in the loveseat like he normally would. Tucking his legs underneath him, Dec effectively curled up into a ball, still tightly grasping his mug of tea like a lifeline. Freeing a hand to tug at something caught in the fabric of the chair, an odd look crossed his face as he pulled out a long strand of Anne-Marie's hair.

"How's she taking it? Is she okay? It's not been...you know...." Dec hesitantly stuttered out, clearly unwilling to directly reference the media feeding frenzy that was taking place right now. He sounded genuinely concerned, though. He'd known Anne-Marie just as long as Ant had, and although he didn't really know her all that well, he knew she was a kind-hearted soul who didn't deserve the s***storm of paparazzi and tabloid lies her life had become. And because she had become such an important part of Ant's life, she now fell into the small group of people over which Dec felt fiercely protective...Despite his previously close friendship with Lisa which had now broken down beyond repair. And his jealousy over her taking his place in Ant's life.

Ant knew all this – except for the bit about Dec being jealous of his girlfriend – and he appreciated it greatly. He'd been rather nervous when he'd first broached the subject of having started a new relationship to Dec, but despite his initial surprise, Dec had been happy for him. He'd said he'd seen it coming a mile off, that Anne-Marie was a lovely – and very lucky – lady, and finished off by laughingly stating that Ant was a randy devil. And that was that.

So now, despite the odd feeling Ant had that something was definitely off with Dec, he felt deeply grateful for Dec's concern. "She's angry more than anything," he began, rage seeping into his own voice as he continued, "The stuff that's being said is just so unfair on her. I don't care what they say about me, it's her I wish they'd leave alone. She says there's been paps outside her house every day this week." Ant now sounded defeated, shoulders slumping as his girlfriend's angrily tearful voice came to mind again, telling him how she'd been ambushed outside her own home that very morning.

"It'll get better, Ant," Dec's voice was now gentle, comforting. "This is going to take a while to blow over, but people will get bored of it eventually. Neither of you have done anything wrong – it's your lives, and if you make each other happy, that's all that matters." He gave Ant an encouraging smile, eyes burning with concern for his friend. "Are you okay, Ant? Please be honest." Dec's voice was choked with worry. He desperately needed to know that this whole mess wasn't damaging his friend's recovering psyche. Even if Anne-Marie had taken his place as the most important person in Ant's life, he still loved Ant deeply and wanted – no, needed – his friend to confirm that the media storm wasn't putting a spanner in the works of his recovery. Ant had come so far already in just three months; Dec couldn't bear the thought of him losing ground again.

It definitely stung a bit that Dec had felt the need to ask Ant to be honest. Ant knew he had pushed Dec to – and far beyond – his limit with his repeated lies and avoidances of tough questions over the past couple of years. But he had been trying to make it right, to be entirely truthful with Dec. He was turning over a new leaf, and one of the new rules he was living by was to always be honest. "Yeah, I'm okay. Could be better, but I'm just basically trying to ignore it all, you know? It hurts, what Lisa's doing, but I don't blame her for being angry. I just wish she weren't making it all so public. It's very personal."

It was pretty obvious Ant was smarting from the overwhelming outrage at his having moved on so soon after the breakdown of his marriage, but Dec thought it seemed he was coping fairly well. Probably because Anne-Marie was his "rock." Unlike himself, who was clearly "just a friend."

Ant was studying Dec intently. He looked a bit like a petulant child at the moment – clearly lost in thought, but his lips were pursed in a pout...and was that resigned jealousy in his eyes? So it was true? Or was it? Surely Dec should know Anne-Marie hadn't replaced him? How could he possibly even think that?!

"Declan." Ant patted the seat next to him, demanding with a firm gesture of his head that Dec join him. When Dec stubbornly refused to move, Ant got up with a huff and bodily pulled a stunned Dec from his comfortable perch in Ant's armchair, dragging him over to the loveseat and plonking him down next to him.

"What the hell was that?!" Dec squeaked, his voice high-pitched with indignation.

"You're going to tell me what's going on inside that silly head of yours, Dec. You know no one can ever take your place in my heart, right??" Ant spoke quietly, calmly, knowing that he could easily put Dec on the defensive if he took the wrong tone with him. He knew he'd hit it straight on the money when Dec's eyes widened for a split second before his tough fa��ade quickly started to crumble.

Dec didn't have it in him to fight. He was exhausted, worn down. He knew he'd been caught out, there was no use denying it. But he couldn't quite get the words out to answer, his voice stuck in his throat. "I...I..." He looked helplessly at Ant, eyes filling with tears as all his insecurities came rushing to the fore, the tabloids' crowing words like burning daggers in his heart.

Wordlessly, Ant scooted over and took Dec in his arms, holding him tight and rocking them from side to side. "I love you, Dec, you're me best friend. I know I've not been around lately – it was tough knowing you're doing BGT and I was feeling guilty about leaving you in the lurch like that. But I was selfish to ignore you the past couple of weeks," Ant's voice was loving, tender, guilt-ridden, his strong arms holding Dec gently, as if he was a fragile bird. "Anne-Marie hasn't replaced you, if that's what you're thinking; she never will. It's no different than me and Lisa. Anne respects our relationship – she knows how much you mean to me, and she's not about to interfere with that. All I care about is your happiness, pet, nothing's changed."

Safe inside Ant's arms, Dec wanted to cry – his throat was raw and his eyes were glistening with tears – but he couldn't. He was so emotionally exhausted he couldn't squeeze a single tear out. He just curled up with his head on Ant's chest, listening to his reassuring heartbeat.

"You don't always have to be strong, Declan," Ant whispered, pressing a kiss to Dec's head and cuddling him like a teddy bear. "You don't have to pretend in front of me, it's okay to let it all out if that's what you need. I'm not judging."

Even with Ant's tender encouragements, Dec just couldn't cry, even though he desperately wanted – and needed – to. "So...nothing's changed? We're still us?" Dec sounded slightly disbelieving. He was starting to really worry Ant now, he knew it, but he just couldn't help himself. He'd not been deaf and blind to all the whispers, both in the industry and amid members of the press and public, that he and Ant were no longer on good terms, that they'd gone their separate ways. 

So when Ant had spent more and more of his time with Anne-Marie, even cutting down on the time he and Dec spent together because he "had plans" with his girlfriend, the rumors started taking hold in Dec's mind. Perhaps Ant hated him for going solo, maybe he no longer needed him because Anne-Marie was better to him, understood him better. And that's when the jealousy started – he freely admitted he'd never been good at sharing Ant, but now with how much he was missing him on a daily basis, he'd gotten even worse at it.

"Yes, Declan, we're still us," Ant dropped another kiss into Dec's fluffy hair. "Now stop being silly and answer me this: are you up for a Netflix marathon?"

Dec grinned despite the massive lump in his throat and tears standing in his eyes. "Are you asking me to Netflix and chill with you?"

"Woah, steady on, Declan!" Ant laughed, "We'll just see where things lead us, all right?" He winked cheekily at his friend, glad to have been able to bring a smile to his pinched face.

It faded quickly, though, Dec suddenly remembering something that had been bothering him ever since his conversation with Georgia four days ago. "Ant?"

"Yeah?" Ant was still holding him close, pressing him to his chest, and now tilted his head downwards to catch sight of Dec's face. 

"Georgia said something the other day...Something about you getting angry about something the tabloids were going to print," his voice was reverberating with trepidation, and Ant was now tense – 'Dammit, Georgia, can't you ever keep a secret?!' Ant cursed silently, at the same time wondering how Dec was going to take this. He couldn't lie to him, he wasn't going there again. There'd been too many of those in recent history. Dec's insecure voice broke through Ant's thoughts again, "I got the feeling it was something about me. She said I should talk to you about it, that I'd be upset...?"

'Seriously, Georgia?! Full marks for originality in keeping secrets class' – Ant was furious, he couldn't believe Georgia had managed to bungle this so badly. How on earth had she made it this far as a talent manager when she couldn't even stop herself from mentioning something one of her clients – friends – had specifically asked her not to?!

Knowing Dec was still waiting for a response, peering up at him worriedly through his short eyelashes, Ant pushed down his anger. Then, "Wow, it must be bad," came an amused, although still clearly agitated voice, from his chest, "The vein's popped up in the middle of your forehead!"

That effectively broke Ant from his spell, and he snorted as Dec giggled nervously. "I told Georgia not to say anything about this to you," Ant began, deciding the whole truth would be better than a partial one, "And yeah, I told her that 'cause I didn't want you upset...." He trailed off again, unwilling to voice what the tabloids had been about to publish.

"Soooo??" Dec drew out the word, apparently trying for humor in an attempt to put Ant – and himself – more at ease. 

This was horrific. He couldn't believe he'd been put in this situation. He couldn't give full voice to this, it was too horrid for that. With resentful, whispered words, Ant finally gave in. "The Sun's s*** sources claimed you'd deserted me when I needed you most, that we were no longer close," Ant was getting louder and angrier with each further word that left his mouth, "They were going to say I'd chosen Anne-Marie over you, Dec! That I hated you!"

'Goodness me, it's like they hired my insecurities as a source!' was Dec's idle inward observation, as he tried to process the fact that basically everything he'd been thinking had been that close to being printed in all the tabloids. He wouldn't have survived that, he knew that right now. But still there was that teeny tiny bit of doubt in his mind. What if Ant was pretending, like his brain had been telling him for weeks now? 

He didn't actually mean to say it; it slipped out quite unconsciously, perhaps his subconscious mind working to provide him with a solid answer once and for all...."But isn't it true?"

Stunned silence. 

Dec's mind was shouting "S***!" at the rate of once every half second. He couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud. If Ant hadn't fully hated him before, he surely would now. Why the hell did he agree to this?! If he'd said no to today's rendezvous, all would be fine. Their friendship wouldn't have been officially broken, he could have kept pretending all was well, even though he'd still have to watch Ant slowly replace him from every part of his life with Anne-Marie. At least it wouldn't have been over. 

Sitting next to him, Ant was basically paralyzed. Dec's trembling words, spoken with utter conviction, had confounded him. Had he really been that terrible a friend to Declan over the past months? Had he ignored him so frequently, taken him for granted on such a regular basis that his friend believed he hated him? Forcing his sluggish mind to think back over the past couple of months, Ant started to see a pattern. Dec being there for him, Dec answering his phone at all hours of the night whenever it all got too much for Ant, Dec texting him, sending him little encouragements even when he didn't reply....The list went on and on. And what had he done for Dec? Very, very little.

Whenever they met up, they talked about Ant's recovery, his new life with Anne-Marie and her kids, his plans for moving, renovating the new house, etc., etc. Basically the only thing they talked about regarding Dec on a regular basis was the baby he and Ali were expecting. True, he would ask Dec how he was doing, but Dec always just sort of shrugged it off and said he was "fine." Not once did he complain – about going solo, doing everything himself....of being without his best friend. Not once. Yet Ant had seen the exhaustion, the defeated, lonely look in Dec's eyes. And he'd not done a thing, driven into silence by fear of having revealed to him what his actions had caused. Instead, he'd gushed about Anne-Marie and how amazing and supportive she was while Dec just looked happy for him and told him how pleased he was for the two of them, that he was glad Ant had found such a strong, supportive woman. Was it any wonder he believed he'd been replaced?! 

Guilt overwhelmed Ant, leaving him speechless. He knew he had to say something, but he couldn't.

Bizarrely, Dec was still in Ant's arms, which had now gone rigid and were quite uncomfortable in their tight hold. Neither man could look at the other, both completely frozen by their emotions. Silent tears were running down Dec's cheeks, while Ant's countenance was stricken with grief at the pain his actions – or lack thereof – had caused. The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, counting out the seconds, minutes of a 29-year friendship being smothered.

Dec's pain was real. Very real. Every further second of silence was like someone viciously stabbing him with a million knives. Each second was a confirmation of everything his cruel insecurities had been preaching at him for weeks. But still, still, there was the teensiest bit of hope that maybe, maybe Ant would say it wasn't true. His continued silence was damning, though, Dec's mind running wild, his insecurities screaming from the rooftops, 'We were right, we were right!' And Dec couldn't take much more of this, but he certainly was not going to be the one to break the hush that had fallen over the room. Ant had to break the silence – whether confirming it was all true or rubbishing it. Otherwise, what would be the point of having started this conversation in the first place?

"I could never hate you."

Five little words. Spoken so softly it almost seemed they were in Dec's imagination.

"I'm so sorry, Dec. I never realized."

Okay, definitely not his imagination. His heart leaping, Dec raised his tear-stained face to gaze at Ant.

Feeling movement on his chest, Ant's mind stirred. His mam's words came to mind again: "Anthony David McPartlin, you. will. be. sorry. if you don't do something soon to save your friendship. He's at the end of his tether." He couldn't lose his best friend.

Jumping into action, Ant shifted Dec in his arms, basically lifting the smaller man into his lap and turning him to face him. His heart clenched as he took in the man before him. And he could see recognition in Dec's eyes as he began to speak. 

"Dec, I'm so, so sorry, mate. I was afraid of facing up to everything I've put you through, I didn't think I could live with the guilt of what I've done to you. I haven't been there for you. I've taken you for granted, forgotten to show you how much you mean to me. I wouldn't have gotten through without your support. I can't live without you, pet. Please believe me."

Dec stared into his eyes throughout his impassioned plea, watching every emotion passing through his irises as if transfixed. Ant was telling the truth.

Launching himself at Ant, Dec buried his head in his friend's neck as he wept. With Joy? Relief? Pent-up stress and emotions? It was impossible to tell exactly. But as soon as Dec started to cry, Ant knew he'd believed him. That he'd saved their friendship from destruction. That not all was lost. That Dec forgave him. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thanked the heavens – and his mam – for having pushed him to have this conversation. He couldn't bear the thought of his Declan thinking he hated him, that he found his undying support worthless. That he could ever replace him with someone else.

The house was still. The only sounds that of the clock and the shuddering breaths of two friends reunited. They cried in each other's arms for a good few minutes before they were both spent, no more tears left. 

Dec pulled away first, face red and blotchy, eyes swollen from the torrential flood of tears that had burst forth. He took in Ant's sad face. 

"I love you."

That was really all that was needed. It's a strange oddity of life how it is sometimes the smallest things that mean the most. In this case, those three tiny words said more than anything else Dec could have uttered. He could have come up with the most eloquent, gushing speech, but it never could have adequately relayed the message those three words offered up to Ant.

One last tear dropped from his eye at Dec's words, and Dec, in a moment of soppy sentimentality, kissed it from his cheek. They were far more intimate and affectionate in private than the public ever saw, especially when they were as emotional as they were now. That single kiss broke the spell, and they were Ant and Dec again, two best friends who'd been on the most amazing journey through life together. The indomitable twosome who had never stopped loving each other, even when they had lost each other due to the savagery of life.

"So are we gonna watch something or what?" Dec was beyond exhausted after all of that – not to mention his long bout of insomnia – but his voice now had a ring to it that hadn't been heard in months. There was a spark back in his eyes. A burning love back in his heart, shoving out the brutal soundbites his subconscious had repeated at him, beating back the vulnerability that had eaten away at his very heart and soul. Ant still needed him – he hadn't been replaced.

Eventually deciding on a series to binge watch, both men settled down, Dec curled up next to Ant, who had his arm draped over Dec's shoulders. They watched the first few minutes in comfortable silence, finding the opening scenes of the series to be quite spell-binding. They'd chosen a whodunit mystery thriller, and Dec was already starting to try to guess who the murderer was.

Ant relaxed into the soft cushions, tugging Dec closer to him with a small smile on his face. He loved it when Dec got like this, his childlike enthusiasm overruling his 40-odd years of life and taking Ant back to the earliest days of their relationship when they would watch telly together whilst stuffing themselves silly with crisps and pop. Ah, so many wonderful memories. Ant could feel himself starting to get misty-eyed as the years whizzed past his mind's eye – everything they'd done together, all they'd accomplished. But through it all, the only thing that really mattered was the person sat right next to him. Who had stopped wittering on about the case and was now staring at Ant worriedly. Oops.

Wiping his eyes, Ant explained, "Just sitting here with you, it took me back through the years, Deccy. Remember how we'd have sleepovers on Friday nights and then sit around the next morning, watching Saturday morning telly in our pajamas? Those were the days."

Dec could feel the lump re-forming in his own throat as the past swept him off his feet. "Yeah," was his simple reply, snuggling closer to Ant and tilting his head upwards to place a little kiss on the edge of Ant's chin. Ant chuckled, "Remember the time you did that on Takeaway? I quite liked it then, still like it now," he teased, grinning at his friend whose cheeks were now slightly rosy. "We're missing the show," Dec grumbled good-naturedly, sheepishly smiling as Ant cuddled him closer as way of apologizing for making him blush.

The rest of the morning flew by with the reunited friends amiably bickering over who the killer was, not unlike an old married couple. Early afternoon came and went before they reached the end of the 3-part series – neither one had guessed the murderer in the end – and both boys were rather hungry. It had now gone past 2:00pm, and Ant was starving.

Stretching his arms out above his head with a big yawn, Ant looked down at Dec, still scrunched up next to him. Ant frowned. Dec was surreptitiously pressing a fist to his upper abdomen, a slightly pained expression on his face. "Dec?" Ant began carefully, apparently startling Dec who hastily snatched his hand away from his stomach, "You all right? Something hurting?" Dec refused to meet his eyes, instead finding a loose thread on his partially open button down shirt intensely interesting, worrying at it nervously with his restless fingers.

Knowing Dec wasn't going to give anything away for free, Ant's mind started whirring. Dec had always suffered from a hyperacidic stomach over the years, mainly resulting in heartburn and indigestion, and he was never far away from a box of Rennies. In fact, he'd once suffered the indignity of having to admit to his stomach issues in an interview during their SM:TV Live days, when a packet of Rennies was discovered in his bag. He'd moaned about that particular invasion of his privacy for days, despite the fact he could have pulled the antacid tablets out of his bag beforehand. But Ant had never seen Dec react this way to heartburn or indigestion before, and he'd seen – and heard about – the symptoms enough over the past 29 years to know the signs as soon as Dec had a problem. Ant even carried a package of Rennies in his bag and had a stash in his medicine cabinet, just in case Dec ran out. No, this was something different, and Ant was concerned.

"Just need to eat," Dec finally mumbled, still avoiding Ant's gaze. Standing up hurriedly and attempting to make a break for the kitchen to escape Ant's questions, Dec was stopped short by a hand grabbing his wrist, yanking him straight back down onto the loveseat.

"Tell me," Ant growled, reaching out a hand to gently turn Dec's head to face him. He was determined to get an answer, and he knew Dec could never lie while looking him straight in the eyes. He was an honest man, was Dec. Gaze defiant, Dec muttered something unintelligible, trying to wiggle out of Ant's grasp. Ant was having none of it, though. "You can't eat until you tell me what's going on," he insisted, tightening his grip on Dec as he continued to wriggle away uncomfortably. Pouting at him, Dec fired back, "Not fair!" sounding like a little kid who wasn't getting his way.

"Declan!" Ant raised his voice slightly, eyes boring holes into Dec's skull. Finally giving in, Dec mumbled – just loud enough to be heard – "Have an ulcer." Right. That was new. Raising an eyebrow in a silent request for more information, Ant released his grip on Dec's wrist, knowing he wouldn't try to escape now the secret was out. "I've had it for a while, apparently, just never really had obvious symptoms," Dec grudgingly explained. Gaze fixed on the floor, his words now came out in a rush, perhaps hoping Ant wouldn't be able to understand him, "Guess-the-stress-made-it-worse." Ant placed a sympathetic hand on Dec's knee, squeezing gently before standing and offering his friend a helping hand. 

"Come on, you, let's get something into that stomach of yours," Ant murmured, fingers curling around his friend's shoulder as he guided him into the kitchen and pushed him down onto a chair at the kitchen table. "What'll it be, then, darling? Cold cuts good?" Ant queried, peering into his fridge. Hearing a muffled laugh behind him, Ant turned to see Dec with a little grin on his face. "A sandwich sounds lovely, dear," Dec replied, eyes sparkling with amusement at how much they sounded like a married couple. Having built their sandwiches – competing to see who could do it quicker (Ant won; Dec pouted) – the men grabbed a bag of cheese-and-onion crisps, as well as some Minstrels, to share and decided to move back into the family room to start another series which had piqued their interest.

Scarfing down their food in comfortable silence, a rapidly emptying crisps bag between them – Dec finding he actually had an appetite that wasn't prompted by stress for once – Ant and Dec became engrossed in a documentary series. Truthfully, it was more Ant's scene than Dec's, dealing a lot with historic events, but Dec didn't care. He'd needed a day like today for longer than he cared to remember – just hanging out with Ant, doing all the things they used to do before everything fell apart. He felt really silly now for thinking Ant had replaced him with Anne-Marie, but he knew Ant understood why he'd thought that way. Placing his crumby plate on the coffee table in front of them and wiping his hands on a napkin, Dec moved the now-empty crisps bag out of the way and leaned into Ant again, resting his head against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Happy, Deccy?" Ant teased, glancing down at his friend who'd made himself comfortable, basically resting his entire upper body against Ant. His eyes were drooping slightly, the tension in his features easing slowly as he relaxed, stress and worry slipping away from him as he began to doze off. Guilt ate away at Ant's soul again as he took in his little friend, noting all of the lines on his face that didn't used to be there, and feeling the overtight muscles of Dec's neck and shoulders as he freed his arm from underneath Dec's torso and ran a palm soothingly over his upper back. "I'm sorry, Dec," he whispered sorrowfully, tears coming to his eyes as shame at how he'd wronged his friend overwhelmed him. A salty tear landed on Dec's restful features, rolling down his cheek. He seemed totally out now, bless him. Even asleep, however, the strain of the past few months was still visible. Normally, Dec looked impossibly young when he slept – Ant would jokingly call him his "little cherub" in reference to his youthful features – but now he looked older, weary, the pressures of life having left an indelible mark on him.

Another tear fell from above, landing on one of Dec's eyelids. Hand coming up to rub at his eye in a childlike gesture, Dec stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again. Only to open again, squinting tiredly at Ant. Ant was so lost in his own misery he didn't notice Dec was awake until he felt a warm palm cupping his cheek and wiping his tears away. A tiny growl sounded from the area of his chest, "Stop it, Ant, I don't blame you! You'd do the same for me if it was the other way 'round. No more guilt, please." Ant wasn't quite sure how Dec had read his mind, but he had, and his words hit home with blinding clarity. Dec straightened up, enveloping his silently weeping friend in a secure hug, whispering quiet reassurances in his ear. Ant's tears eventually slowed, and Dec pulled away, tenderly kissing Ant's temple before resuming his former position, drowsily resting against Ant's shoulder. "Seriously, Anth, you've been my rock for 29 years – it's about time I had the chance to repay you."

Still too choked up to speak, Ant just wrapped his arms around his loyal friend in silent thanks. Dec's head began to get heavier once again, slowly slipping down from Ant's shoulder to his chest, and from there down onto his lap as he gradually slumped over. Heart bursting with affection for the worn out man pinning him to the sofa, Ant ran a soothing hand through Dec's hair, gently massaging his scalp. He knew Dec inside out, and it hadn't escaped his notice that Dec was occasionally rubbing his temples throughout the day – a telltale sign of a headache. A sleepy, purr-like murmur drifted up to him from his lap, "Mmmm....'m sorry, Ant, I'm just...so...tired...."

"Just sleep, Declan, I'm not going anywhere," Ant reassured him, finally finding his voice. Turning the volume down on the television, Ant shifted slightly to get more comfortable, stretching his legs out on the coffee table and reclining back a bit more, quiet snores filling the room as his shattered friend finally found peace in the oblivion of sleep.

Roughly 4 hours later, signs of movement became visible on that luxurious loveseat in Ant's family room. Both Ant and Dec had been asleep for 3 hours, Ant following Dec into the land of dreams about an hour after Dec had drifted off. Now Ant was stirring, confused at first as to the identity of the heavy weight on his lap: Hurley was with Lisa this week....Ohhhh. Feeling around on his lap, unwilling to open his eyes quite yet, he felt a slightly stubbly chin under his hand, and everything came flooding back. That was Dec snuggled up to him. Glancing down, Ant's eyes shone with love to see the smaller man's head pillowed on his abdomen, hand lightly clutching Ant's shirt. He looked a bit younger than he had earlier now he'd gotten some proper rest – bags under his eyes slightly less puffy, and his features not quite so deeply bone-weary.

Grabbing his phone off the coffee table, Ant peered at the time. It was just after 7pm. Wow. Dec was meant to be home a couple of hours from now, yet he was still fast asleep. They hadn't even had dinner yet! Slowly extricating himself from underneath Dec, Ant quickly trotted up the stairs to the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. After hitting speed dial for a very familiar number, Ant stood at the window, gazing out at the evening sky.

"Hello?" came a drowsy voice. Oops. It seemed all members of the Donnelly household were napping this evening.

"Al, hope I didn't wake you. Declan's been asleep for over 4 hours – completely spark out – and I really don't think he should be driving home in the dark tonight. Can you manage without him for the night? I promise to send him back in the morning!"

"Goodness, he's been asleep that long?! That's amazing, Ant! Did he eat anything for you?" Ali sounded beyond relieved to hear her husband was getting some much-needed rest, but slightly shocked. Had he been having that much trouble sleeping, Ant wondered?

"Yeah, full eggs and bacon breakfast, and a sandwich and crisps for lunch," Ant responded, voice still a bit gravelly from sleep.

"Oh, Ant, thank you so much, you've been amazing!" Ali was full-on gushing now, "You've no idea what it's been like trying to get him to take care of himself. The only thing he's done consistently is go to the gym, and that's more of a stress reliever than anything else....Of course I can manage, Ant. Just make sure he eats something...Erm..." Ali trailed off suddenly, clearly unsure as to whether she could safely mention Dec's gastric troubles or not.

"Yeah, I know, Ali, he told me. Right, well, if you need anything, call us. Our phones'll be on," Ant thought he could hear a voice downstairs, so figured he should end the call before Dec found him.

"Goodnight, Ant, and thank you."

"Night, pet!"

Ending the call, Ant bounded down the stairs to find Dec sitting up, staring blearily at his phone. At the sound of Ant's footsteps, he looked up. "I've got to get going soon, Ant, I didn't realize it was so late. I promised Al I'd be home by 9:00."

Grabbing the takeaway menus off the kitchen table and swooping back into the family room, Ant gleefully told him, "Nope, you're not going anywhere, Declan. I've talked to Ali all ready, and she agreed you should crash here tonight. You're too tired to be driving at night."

"But..." Dec began, ready to protest he couldn't leave Ali home alone all night.

"No buts about it, Declan. You'll be no good to Ali or the baby if you're laid up in hospital because you fell asleep driving home. We're going to order in a takeaway, and then you're going to get some more sleep." Ant left no room for discussion, his tone of voice quickly convincing Dec it would be fruitless to protest any further. At the same moment, he received a text from Ali ordering him to stay over at Ant's. Shaking his head in exasperation – but secretly rather relieved to not have to drive home – Dec gave in, taking the menus being proffered to him by his best friend.

"Don't think I'm up for a curry, but I could go for some Chinese. What do you fancy?" Dec yawned widely, leaning tiredly against Ant as they put together their food order.

A couple of hours later, a fully satiated Ant and Dec were settled comfortably in the family room yet again, this time on the large settee on the right side of the room. Dec's slight frame was fully stretched out lengthwise next to Ant, using his friend's abdomen as a pillow once again; Ant was seated in the settee's built-in recliner, and had kicked back to relax after finishing their meal. Neither man had the energy to move, fatigue rendering them both into boneless lumps. Dec especially was out of it again, rapidly losing his battle with consciousness, while Ant watched him through heavy-lidded eyes. Realizing neither of them would be moving to a proper bed that night, Ant tugged his warm, fuzzy Newcastle United throw blanket off the back of the couch, draping it lovingly over Dec. Dec always ran colder than he did, so was bound to get chilly during the night.

"Ant?" Dec murmured sleepily, burrowing gratefully into the blanket and nestling his head deeper into the folds of Ant's shirt, "Thank you for today. I needed this..."

"You don't need to thank me, Dec. When you need me, I'll always be there for you. I promise, no more shutting you out," Ant was merely whispering, but his voice was strong with conviction.

"I know, Ant. And I'll always look out for you, too, you're never in this life alone."

Although he was slightly choked up, Ant managed a tender, "Love ya, Deccy Doolittle. Now get some sleep, you're so worn out you're making me tired."

A little chuckle escaped Dec: "You'll be just as tired soon, dear – you'll be back before you know it."

Touched by Dec's utter confidence in him, Ant reached out a hand and grasped Dec's smaller one in his own, squeezing gently.

And so it was, that, having remade the vows that had first bound them together 25 years ago, Ant and Dec drifted off together, wrapped up in their cocoon of unconditional love, dreaming of the not-so-distant days when all would be well again. And in their sleep they smiled. When you need me, I'll be there.

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 5

                                                    Why?

"Dec." Ant's rough but gentle voice reverberated through the line, serving as both a salve and a sharp scalpel on Dec's wounded psyche.

When more than 30 seconds had passed, a bewildered Ant repeated his friend's name. "Declan?"

The voice that answered was tiny, desolate, but strangely cool. "What's up?"

If Ant hadn't known Dec so well, he wouldn't have caught on to the peculiar tone in Dec's voice. But he knew as soon as those words left Dec's mouth that something was terribly wrong. He had been expecting sympathy from Dec, reassurance. Instead, he was presented with a rather worrying mystery that demanded answers. Was it possible his friend had discovered what the tabloids' "sources" were claiming? He'd sworn Georgia to secrecy on that, but she did have a tendency to blab things out when she was agitated....

"You okay, Dec? Ya sound a bit off...." Ant trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"What does it matter?" Dec sounded slightly bitter for a moment, before his voice softened again, tender now, "How are you, Ant, are you okay? We kept the press off your backs as long as we possibly could." 

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dec. Glad it won't be a secret anymore after tomorrow," Ant sounded happy, excited, before sobering again, "though I'm worried about Anne-Marie. You know how delicate she is." 

"No, I don't, actually. But I'll take your word for it," there was that sour tone to Dec's voice again. Ant was getting really confused now. "But as long as you're fine with it, it's all good. I mean, if I'd known, I wouldn't have had the office working so hard at keeping everything quiet. There've been rumours for a while now."

"No, no, Dec - I appreciate it," Ant hurriedly added, realizing his mistake. "We needed the time to get to know each other and figure out if it was going to work. Thank you."

"Yeah...no problem..." Dec didn't seem to know what to say now, although he supposed he really ought to say something along the lines of, "I'm happy for you." There, he'd said it. In reality, he was smarting, the pain of hearing firsthand Ant's joy with his replacement filling him with throbbing hurt.

Ant and Dec had always had a knack for reading each other like a book - spending nearly all day, every day together certainly helped - and Ant was busily reading Dec via his voice alone. He didn't like what he was hearing, but wasn't sure how to remedy the situation, unwilling to outright ask Dec why he was acting so strange. This was not the Dec he knew, but he just couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong.

Quickly realizing this was not a conversation to have over the phone, Ant formulated a plan. He had heard through Anne-Marie - and via a few short texts exchanged with Dec - that Ali was really struggling right now with pregnancy-related high blood pressure. It would be nice to give Dec a break from the caregiver role he'd apparently taken on – something Ant still couldn't quite imagine, by the way – and give Ali a treat. Maybe he could arrange for the girls to have a spa day or something? Anne-Marie had been going on about wanting a spa day for several days now, so maybe that would be the perfect solution. Leave a whole day for him and Dec to spend together, just the two of them. He missed his friend desperately, and he knew they had to conquer the personal issues keeping them apart.

To be fair, the seeds for this particular idea had been planted in his mind a few days ago by his mam, Christine, who had apparently been talking with Anne. Both mothers were extremely concerned about their sons, both their own flesh and blood and their "adopted" son. Dec had apparently been an emotional wreck when he was up in Newcastle last weekend. He had sworn his mother to secrecy in regards to telling Ant....And technically, she'd kept that promise, only telling Christine....Who then passed it along to Ant because she felt the unnatural distance that had built up between the two men had gone on for long enough, and she told Ant as much, ordering him to fix things up between them. He'd have to live with his regret for the rest of his life if he lost his only true friend just because he couldn't face up to reality. Tough love was his mam's specialty.

And Ant had been nervous about having the chat with Dec, so had been putting off calling or texting him because he was scared. But the story being run in tomorrow's papers had offered up the perfect excuse to finally put this particular ghost to rest. So here he was, on the phone to his best friend. And it was time to make his move.

"Ya know, Dec, we really ought to get together." He paused, thinking Dec might offer up a witty retort about him meaning they should be together together, but when none came, he continued, "Anne-Marie's been wanting a spa day – think she wants to make a day of it with Ali." Not knowing if Dec was out or at home, Ant mimed texting to Anne-Marie, who was seated next to him, mouthing 'text Ali' at her. This had to seem genuine if he was going to pull it off successfully. "Be good to have a day to ourselves, right?" Ant added, hoping against hope Dec would say yes.

"Why? " What Dec really wanted to say was, "Why spend time with me when she's the one who makes you happy?" but he didn't have the courage to ask that loaded question. So he settled for a lame excuse instead, "Ali's laid up at the moment, don't think she's really up for a day out."

"Waddya mean, why?" That one word response had really taken Ant by surprise. "And who said anything about going out? You know very well they can bring the spa to you these days. Or Joe can pick her up and drop her off so she doesn't have to walk or drive anywhere. Anne-Marie's fixing it up as we speak. You can't say no, Declan, I won't let you." His previously affable tone took on a slightly intimidating quality as he attempted to force his friend into accepting his invitation.

Sounding defeated, but oddly – hopeful? relieved? – Dec conceded, "Right, okay. What day?"

Glancing over at his girlfriend, who was flashing her phone at him while pointing at a date on the calendar app, Ant confirmed the day and time for their rendezvous – his place, this Wednesday - not giving Dec any chance to argue or come up with excuses. Ant ended the call with a quiet, "Love ya," that took Dec by surprise, rendering him speechless for so long that Ant had ended the call by the time his brain kicked in to reciprocate.

Turning for home – his morbid thoughts from earlier in his walk forgotten for the moment – Dec hurried back to his abode, feeling somewhat befuddled by the sudden turn of events. Maybe he hadn't been replaced after all? And Anne-Marie seemed to be instrumental in arranging this weird "spa day" idea...So maybe he was just being silly?

Confused thoughts and feelings flooded Dec's mind as he continued on his journey home. By the time he stepped into his living room, Dec had calmed somewhat, and had apparently forgotten completely that he was in the doghouse when he left earlier that afternoon. Ali seemed to have forgiven him regardless, and now gave him a soft, knowing smile as he entered the room. Something about him seemed different. Perhaps he looked lighter somehow, like a tiny bit of the dark cloud that had been hanging over him for so long had lifted.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you, dear," she began apologetically, "You didn't deserve that – you've been so wonderful the past week. I love you."

Leaning down to capture her lips with his, Dec answered with his own, "I love you, too," before fixing her with a suspicious stare. "Was all that you, pet? That whole "spa day" thing with Anne-Marie? Ant would never think up something like that himself!"

"No, love, it was Anne-Marie's idea," Ali lied smoothly....Well, to be fair, she thought, she wasn't actually lying, just not telling the whole truth. Christine had had the original idea after her talk with Anne, she'd just passed it on to her son's girlfriend. "So Wednesday, then? What are you and Ant doing?"

"I...I don't know. Just hanging out?" Dec sounded insecure, uncertain. It was painful to see him like this. Ali hoped against hope her boys could work through everything and find each other again. The current situation was untenable.

                                                        ~~~

Back in Wimbledon, a perplexed Ant McPartlin was still staring at his phone, his mind racing. Where had things gone so wrong with his one true friend? Well, actually, that was a dumb question, but still. Perhaps he had misread the signs, but he very much doubted it. He knew Declan inside and out – every inflection of his voice had a different meaning, and Ant was 99% certain of what he'd heard. The more he reflected on his friend's odd behavior, the more convinced he became of one thing: Dec was jealous. Ant couldn't quite wrap his head around why Dec would be jealous – of Anne-Marie?! – but he was pretty sure that's what was going on here. He supposed he'd been spending less time with Dec as of late, but to be fair, Dec had been busy and Ant had been changing his whole life around....So, basically, they'd both had their hands full with life recently.

Ant had exchanged a few texts with Dec here and there over the past couple of weeks, but they hadn't actually spent time together in over two weeks. Perhaps Dec was right to feel he was being pushed out of Ant's life - if that's even what was going on here - but that certainly hadn't been Ant's intention at all. Ant was still struggling with guilt, which hadn't been assuaged at all by Christine's confidential report via Anne of Dec's mental health status. But after hearing Dec for himself, Ant was determined not to mess this up. He had to clear the air with Declan, make him realize how important he was, no matter how painful it was for him to see what he'd caused.

And truthfully, Ant needed Dec in his life. Yes, he'd been getting along just fine without him the past few weeks thanks to Anne-Marie and her daughters, but he was missing him quite badly. It's just that life was such a whirlwind of change at the moment that he hadn't really had the time or energy to keep up with his best friend....

Ant was overjoyed at how his life was turning around. To have gained a soulmate and a family in the space of a few short months after such a painful jolt back to reality was mind-boggling, and words could not express how happy he was. He was worried about how Lisa would take the news, naturally, but they were both adults who'd made their choices. And he hoped things could remain civil between them, even as they went their separate ways in life. He wished things hadn't ended the way they had, but there was nothing to be done about it. It was over now.

Guilt. It seemed like it was an ever present companion these days. Guilt over what he'd done, how he'd traumatized families with his reckless actions, hurt those closest to him, let down their fans who'd trusted him, broken Lisa's heart....He couldn't get away from it, but he supposed maybe it was a sort of purgatory on earth, punishing him for what he'd done. 

There was a positive side to guilt as well, he reminded himself. Guilt made him strive daily to be a better man, to right his wrongs. It forced him to take accountability for his actions and change for the better. And if there was one thing he intended to do this Wednesday, it was to take charge of his guilt, accept how his actions had affected Declan, and try to make it right. He wasn't fool enough to think it could all be swept away in one single day, but he was going to make a start, no matter what it took.

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 4

                                                 Talk to Him

16 June 2019. It was an odd day, alternating between hot sun and cool clouds, unable to make up its mind which it preferred. Nearly midday now, the sun was beating down mercilessly, occasionally sliding behind some puffy clouds for a few moments, offering an overheated Declan Donnelly some brief respite before frying him again with its blinding rays. Dec was out running a few errands for Ali, who was resting on the living room sofa at home, her feet up and a cool lemonade in her hand as she watched Keeping Up with the Kardashians, her favorite guilty pleasure TV show. Dec had already made a run to the post office, and was now headed to the chemist on his way back from their local Sainsbury's, having needed a single jar of sauce for the pasta he was going to (try to) make later that day. He had been running himself ragged ever since coming home a week ago, caring for Ali and trying to do as much of the normal housework as he could. She had been diagnosed with gestational hypertension, and had been advised to not exert herself – rest as much as possible, keep her feet up, and take the medications which had been prescribed. Her condition had improved, but her blood pressure was still high, and Dec was worried.

Hurrying along the mostly empty streets, he was annoyed when a paparazzo suddenly popped up from behind a nearby hedgerow, camera shutter flashing repeatedly as they snapped photos of him and his can of sauce. Quickening his pace, Dec soon left the tabloid pest behind, eventually bounding up his front steps and into the relative safety of his home. Calling out to Ali that he was back, Dec stepped into the kitchen to leave the pasta sauce on the counter for later. Feeling his phone vibrating in his jeans pocket, Dec fished it out and raised a weary eyebrow when he saw the caller ID: Georgia Hawkins. Now what, he groaned inwardly, accepting the call with a swipe of his thumb.

As soon as he answered the phone with an unimpressed, "Yeah?" a torrent of words assaulted his ear. Georgia's sentences were so rushed he could only make out a few words here and there, but those few – "Ant," "Anne-Marie," "The Sun," "exclusive" – were enough for him to get the picture: The Sun had finally gotten proof of the rumours that had been circulating for a while now. They were going to out Ant and Anne-Marie's budding relationship. He couldn't deal with this right now. He was already stressed enough as it was, not even having recovered yet from BGT, and now with the angst over Ali's health...This was the last thing he needed. His body acting on instinct, self-preservation kicking in, he cut the call and threw his phone onto the kitchen table with a clatter.

Sinking down into a chair at the table, Dec buried his aching head in his hands, letting out a long, deep sigh. His head felt like it was going to explode, his already high blood pressure skyrocketing further, testing the limits of the ACE inhibitor, enalapril, which had been prescribed for him two months ago to manage his out of control stress-induced hypertension. Worry for his best friend crowded everything else out of his mind, taking hold of him and shaking him to his core. What if this was the beginning of the end again? Would Ant survive this? What if Anne-Marie couldn't take the pressure and broke up with him? What then? Mind going in endless panicked circles, Dec faintly became aware of Ali's raised voice in the living room. Georgia must have called her, then. Great. Just what Ali needed in her delicate state.

Preparing to storm into the living room and grab the phone to give Georgia a piece of his mind for potentially raising his wife's blood pressure further, Dec was surprised when his own phone buzzed once again, skittering across the table as it vibrated. It was Georgia again. He still couldn't deal with this. Declining the call, Dec let it go to voicemail. He'd listen to his telling off later. Right now, he had a wife to check on....Although come to think of it, she was probably going to tell him off, too.

And that she did.

                                                        ~~~

The sun had now long since hidden behind a solid wall of clouds, and the temperature had chilled considerably. Dec needed a walk to clear his head. Ali had ripped into him for hanging up on Georgia – twice – calling him unprofessional and saying his lack of respect for others was shocking. She evidently had no sympathy for him and what he was going through, so he figured he might as well just go out. No one would miss him if he disappeared, clearly. Ali would be fine on her own with the baby, and Ant had Anne-Marie now - he obviously didn't need him anymore. His family could cope with his loss – there were plenty enough of them to go around to make up for the small matter of his absence. Come to think of it, everyone would be better off without him here. He wasn't much of a catch at the best of times, but these days he was downright miserable to be around. He couldn't blame everyone for becoming sick of him and abandoning him. He'd leave himself, too, if he had the choice.

The ringing of his phone rudely interrupted his increasingly morbid train of thought. Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket. It was Georgia. Again. Casting his eyes to the heavens in a silent plea for a lightning bolt to fork out its tongue and just kill him now, he accepted the call.

Surprisingly enough, Georgia didn't even mention the fact he'd hung up on her earlier, launching straight into details of the exposé The Sun were planning on running the following day. Dec couldn't say a word, just listened dumbly as Georgia quoted bits and pieces of the article, saying they had no way of stopping it going out. Barbed wire wrapped tighter around his heart as she repeated the words of an unnamed source claiming to be a "friend" who seemed to be his own insecurities incarnate: "...she has put a smile back on his face. She has been his rock. They have been living in each other's pockets, day in, day out." That should be him – he should be Ant's rock, they had been living in each other's pockets for years. But now he'd been replaced. Ant had found someone better, and pitiful little Declan had been left in the dust. That hurt.

Oh, and here came another paparazzo. Fan-bloody-tastic. Sucking his lips in, Dec cast a baleful glare in the pap's direction, continuing his swift pace. The end goal of his walk remained unknown – he was just aimlessly wandering around town, to be honest, wishing he weren't alive – but it looked purposeful enough, his impassionate gaze directed at some undetermined point in the distance.

"I've already spoken to Ant," Georgia continued, "and he's completely fine with everything they want to print. There was just one bit that he got angry about, but we managed to negotiate with all of the tabloids to ensure they omitted it."

Curiousity now getting the better of him, Dec spoke for the first time since he'd answered the phone minutes earlier. "What bit did he want cut out?" His voice was choked, almost sort of fearful. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling whatever it was had to do with him.

Georgia hesitated for a moment, obviously torn. "You know, Dec, I really think you ought to ask Ant. You'll just get upset if I tell you."

Despite repeated exasperated attempts at getting Georgia to reveal what had been removed from the article, Dec finally had to admit defeat. "So Ant's fine with this? He doesn't seem upset?" It bothered Dec that Ant was seemingly unperturbed by his private life being exposed like this. If it were him, he would be furious about his privacy being invaded.

"He's not pleased, no, but he's not too upset. Said he knew it would come out sooner rather than later. He actually seems a bit relieved that they don't have to hide anymore." Georgia sounded puzzled, like she couldn't quite understand why Dec was asking her about this instead of just talking to Ant himself. "Haven't you talked to Ant yet, Dec? I figured you would have spoken by now. Ant said he was going to call you."

"Yeah, well, he hasn't has he," Dec muttered crossly. "He's got someone else now, doesn't need me." His words were clipped, hurt evident in his voice.

Sounding shocked but somehow sorrowful, Georgia exclaimed, "Oh, Dec, is that what you think? You need to talk to him, you really do..."

"Yeah, that's what everyone says. Thanks for the info, Georgia, I've gotta go."

"Bye, Dec, and please talk to him."

Ending the call with a vicious stab of his index finger, Dec pocketed his phone....Only for it to start ringing again. Cursing under his breath, he pulled it out and glared at the screen. To anyone watching – and thankfully the paparazzi were nowhere in sight for this photo opportunity – Dec's next reaction would have seemed odd. A kaleidoscope of emotions passed over his features as he stared at his phone – passing from his initial annoyance to surprise, intense vulnerability, sadness, and then a hint of hope, before returning to sadness. Finally swiping up just before the call went to voicemail, Dec answered.

"Ant?"

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 3

                                                     No One

It was 8:30pm, and Dec was waiting in line to check in at Newcastle International Airport. He'd managed to blag his way into getting an extremely expensive last-minute ticket for a direct flight to London leaving about an hour from now, and had hurriedly re-packed his belongings, letting Ali know he would be home later that night. Anne had been so disappointed when he told her he needed to go back to London, but had insisted on cooking him a full 3-course meal before he left. He'd managed two-thirds of the generous portion on his plate before claiming fullness – a feat Anne classed as a win, given that he hadn't eaten anything all day other than a few bites of his eggs and bacon that morning. Sending him off with many hugs and kisses, and a promise that he would keep her in the loop on everything – himself included – Anne had left him with a few final words of wisdom: "Talk to him."

Dec had nodded, an odd look coming over his face for a moment, before stepping through the threshold and back out into the dark, unwelcoming world. Now, standing in line with multitudinous other weary travelers, Dec had his cap pulled down tightly over his eyes and the collar of his coat turned up, feeling the need to hide from the curious eyes of the public. He was in no mood to speak with anyone, not even their fans, and was willing the line to speed up. All he wanted was to get back to London to take care of his ailing wife and their unborn child. Well, there was one other thing he wanted, but that wasn't really an option right now, at least to his mind.

Over the past few months, Dec had met with various members of Ant's rehab team, both over the phone and in person, in an attempt to keep himself educated in the best ways to help Ant as he kicked his alcohol addiction. They had stressed that it was important Dec didn't try to fight Ant's battles for him – that Ant needed to form new habits and resist temptations himself. If he came to rely too much on any one person for strength while recovering, it could be detrimental in future. Which Dec had essentially interpreted to mean, "don't force yourself on him; be there for him, but mainly support him from afar." Thus, he had made an effort to be a constant underlying presence in Ant's life in small ways, checking up on him daily through Christine, and Anne-Marie via Ali (they'd known each other for years and were good friends), and being incredibly supportive whenever he was with Ant. But he felt like he shouldn't be bothering Ant all the time with texts as was their previous norm, thinking Ant might come to rely on him too much, or would perhaps think Dec was checking up on him because he didn't trust him to stay sober. So he kept casual contact to a minimum unless Ant initiated it, instead focusing on passing on support from the public. Whatever it took for Ant to get better, that's what Dec was going to do. Even if it meant hurting himself in the process.

And he was fine with it, he understood why the team wanted Ant to find his own moral strength to fight his demons, and he accepted that this – hopefully temporary – "support from afar" arrangement would benefit Ant in the long run. He knew they had grown to rely on each other greatly over the years, and could definitely see why the team thought it best for him to not be such an overbearing presence in Ant's life right now. So he carried on as he had been, staying strong for Ant and being massively supportive of him, but keeping his distance, allowing Ant to find himself again and conquer the devils trying to bring him down.

Keep Calm and Carry On. That famed British adage had become Dec's mantra in the three months since his world fell apart, yet he'd done anything but "kept calm," instead being plagued by anxiety and insecurity, the pressures of performing solo and having to solely carry all of the responsibilities of their TV empire doing immeasurable damage to his own mental stability. And he needed Ant, more than ever, but starved himself of Ant's love and support in favor of being his strong shoulder to cry on whenever his friend needed it.

True, Ant knew of Dec's struggles, but Dec basically refused to let them talk about that in their limited time together – insisting that Ant was the important one here, and that he was "fine," the therapy was helping, and it was all good. He needed to be strong for Ant. Of course, Ant didn't believe a word of it and was secretly worried about his friend, but guilt over his own starring role in causing his friend to suffer kept him mute on the subject. He wasn't sure he could deal with the knowledge of all what his friend was going through because of him.

So it was that neither friend had the courage to really talk to the other as they had done in years past – one due to a fear of the unknown, and the other due to a wild misunderstanding of his role in his friend's recovery.

                                                       ~~~

In a large mansion in Wimbledon, a dark-haired man sat on a couch, reclining back as he vapidly stared at his telly, watching – but not really paying attention to – a cooking program. Next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, was his girlfriend, Anne-Marie. They were sitting in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, tired after a full day of shopping on the town with Anne-Marie's two daughters. The three of them were staying over at Ant's tonight, and both girls had gone to bed about half an hour ago. It was nearly 9:30pm, and stillness reigned in the house. Outside, a vicious thunderstorm was rolling through, rain lashing at the windows and occasional bolts of lightning illuminating the darkened room, the only light coming from the big screen TV hanging over the fireplace.

Despite the storm outside, Ant was beginning to nod off, weariness from their long, but fun, day fogging his mind and lulling him to sleep. Anne-Marie wasn't too far behind him, but remained wakeful as she studied her boyfriend's face, completely ignoring the television. She had known Ant for years, having first come to know him through his and Dec's management company, James Grant, when she was hired as his PA. They'd never been too terribly close, their relationship purely professional, but she had always admired him from afar. Not just his finely chiseled physique, but his personality, too – his kindness, gentleness, his unbelievably soft heart when it came to animals and children. He had doted on her children when they were born, always giving them little gifts and momentos, and just taking the time to listen to their fantastical ideas about the world they lived in as they got older. So Ant had been a constant presence in her life for a while now, and, if she was completely honest with herself, he was her ideal man. Kind-hearted, strong, romantic, and devilishly handsome – all of the qualities she wished for combined into one very special man.

She still couldn't quite believe she was in a relationship with Ant. It hadn't been planned, neither of them had been looking for a new relationship. They'd grown closer after his marriage broke down, but were merely good friends, nothing more. But it had just sort of happened one despairing night when she had found Ant sobbing brokenly over the mess he had caused with his irresponsible actions. She had hugged him and reassured him, had found herself drawn to him and...kissed him. More salty kisses were shared, one thing led to another, and the next day they found themselves with the possibility of starting over together. And that's exactly what they'd done. After that first night, they took things a bit more slowly, neither one quite ready to commit to a full-on relationship after the painful breakdowns of their respective marriages. But the seeds that had been sown gradually grew, and eventually blossomed into the beautiful garden of love they now found themselves in. Anne-Marie counted herself very lucky to have Ant in her life, and she knew he felt the same.

But something was bothering her, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. For as long as she'd known Ant, Dec had been an ever-present constant in his life. If Ant was around, Dec was never far away, and that's just how it had been for as long as she'd been a part of Ant's world. But now things were different, and she wasn't sure why. She had been surprised – but secretly pleased – when Ant had told her he wanted to move closer to her and her girls. She had somehow assumed that he would never move away from Dec, and especially not 8 miles away – they'd been living in each other's pockets for nigh on 30 years, after all – but had happily agreed to his plan, and helped him search for a home in Wimbledon. They had eventually decided upon this house, and it was truly beautiful. Yes, it needed some renovations, but Ant had wanted a home to make his own, so this was the perfect solution.

Yet the absence of Dec puzzled her. Ant had told her just today that he had never been happier in his life than he was now, which of course had made her feel incredibly special and loved. But if Ant was the happiest he'd ever been, why did she sometimes catch him staring sadly at the framed photos of him and Dec that graced the walls of his home? Honestly, she didn't really want to dwell on it too much. Ant's friendship with Dec had always been a bit of a mystery to her, the level of closeness they shared seeming unimaginable and unattainable by anyone other than the two of them. Although she didn't want to admit it to herself, she was afraid – scared that if Dec returned fully to Ant's life, Ant's love for her would diminish. That he couldn't divide his love and attention between her and Dec. Yes, obviously he must have done that with Lisa – in fact, she had seen it firsthand for years, and that three-way relationship seemed to work quite well – but there was a small part of Anne-Marie that was still insecure in Ant's love for her.

Jumping slightly as a text notification pinged on the couch next to her and her boyfriend's lightly slumbering form, Anne-Marie snatched her phone up, turning it to silent, and opened the message. It was from Ali.

"Did you have any severe headaches or double vision with either of your girls?"

At the mention of double vision, Anne-Marie was suddenly wide awake again, bouncing up off of Ant's side as she sat up, causing him to groan and groggily open his eyes. Taking in Anne-Marie's troubled expression, Ant asked, "What's wrong, pet? Something happened?" his voice gravelly from his short nap.

"Ali's got a headache and double vision...." Anne-Marie began, before being interrupted by the ping of another text arriving.

"Dec's coming home. I didn't give him any details, he's stressed enough as it is, just told him I wasn't feeling great."

Anne-Marie could feel Ant's guilty flinch when he got to the middle of that last sentence as he leant over her shoulder to read Ali's latest text. "Thank God he's on his way home. Where the hell was he, anyway?" Ant questioned, his voice somewhat surly. He couldn't believe his friend had been irresponsible enough to leave his pregnant wife home alone.

"He was up in Newcastle, visiting family," Anne-Marie's gentle voice broke in. There was an odd tone to her voice, something Ant couldn't quite place. Was she annoyed at him?

"What?" Ant questioned, his eyes asking the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to: What do you know that I don't?

Anne-Marie averted her gaze, swallowing carefully before replying, "Oh, nothing. He just wanted a visit back home, that's all." She had promised not to tell Ant the true reason for Dec's visit home, Ali having made it clear that Dec didn't want Ant to know how much he was hurting.

Deciding to let the issue lie for the moment, Ant groused, "Well, he picked a bloody poor time to go, then." After a moment, he added, "He never was good about timing things right." His voice held a hint of affection now, as was belied by the soft smile playing on his lips as his mind took him back through the years of his and Dec's shared experiences. There was that sad look again, Anne-Marie noted. As much as she was worried about the impact on her own relationship with Ant, she knew in her heart of hearts that whatever it was between the two friends right now, they needed to sort it out. Preferably sooner rather than later, for both their sakes.

But for now, she had a text to answer.

                                                         ~~~

It was nearing midnight by the time Dec wearily dragged himself through his front door, pulling his luggage behind him. He was really feeling his chronic lack of sleep now, and had been extremely grateful to not have to drive home, instead hailing a taxi once he'd picked up his luggage. He'd tried to doze on the way there, but all attempts had been futile. Worry over Ali's apparent illness, and reminders of the last time he'd ridden in a cab – just the day before – ricocheting through his addled brain. Ali hadn't picked up any of his calls once he was back on solid ground again, so he assumed she was sleeping. Slipping off his Nike trainers – the ones Ant gave him a lifetime ago, his brain painfully reminded him – Dec stole up the stairs towards their bedroom, trying to avoid any creaky floorboards as he went.

The door to their bedroom was slightly ajar. Poking his head through the gap, Dec caught sight of his beautiful wife, lying on her side, her mouth partly open as her chest rose and fell with her even breaths. There was a washcloth draped across her forehead, but other than that, everything seemed completely normal. His worry abetting slightly, Dec made a quick trip to the en suite before changing into his nighttime attire and crawling into bed next to his wife. Being careful not to wake her, Dec slid his arms around her torso, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her lips. Lying face to face with his wife, Dec tried to doze off, but sleep just wouldn't come. He was too jittery, his rushed journey and the long, emotional day preceding it unwilling to give his mind a moment's rest. But at the same time, he didn't want to leave his wife, so just lay there, watching her as she slept and the minutes ticked by.

Dec must have fallen asleep at some point, because he awoke suddenly to the sounds of Ali retching in the bathroom. Rushing into the en suite, Dec crashed to his knees next to his wife, holding her long, blonde hair back as she threw up. Dec could feel queasiness oozing in his own stomach at the sight and sound of his wife's vomit falling into the toilet. He'd never had a strong stomach, and some things just never changed. Forcing his gaze away from the toilet, Dec rubbed Ali's arm soothingly, holding her gently as she finally finished and leaned back into his chest. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Dec helped her up and guided her back to bed, pausing briefly to let her rinse her mouth out at the sink.

Fixing her with a worried gaze, Dec finally dared to ask the question that had been burning in his mind ever since he'd gotten her text the previous afternoon. "What's going on, love?" His quiet words held a hint of fear, and Ali felt awful, knowing her reply would send his worry sky high.

"I've been feeling a bit off the past couple of days, a bit headachey and such. But yesterday my whole head started aching really badly, and it's still going now. I was seeing double for a while, and my feet and ankles are terribly swollen. And now being sick, obviously. I don't know what's going on. Anne-Marie thinks it might be high blood pressure."

At the mention of Ant's girlfriend, a shadow flitted across Dec's face, but it was quickly replaced by anxiety over his wife's condition. "High blood pressure?" he repeated, eyes wide. "Is that dangerous, can it hurt the baby?"

Ali relayed the information she'd gathered through research after Anne-Marie's suggestion – that it could possibly just be pregnancy-induced hypertension, which was more likely in first time mothers under the age of 20 and over 40. Reassuring him that their bairn had been quite active all evening, Ali added that yes, there could be risks to the baby, but there was monitoring that could be done to ensure all was well. Dec still looked scared, though, and refused to hear a single word of argument against his proclamation that Ali would be going to the doctor's today for a check-up.

Agreeing to make an appointment with her doctor as soon as possible, Ali curled up again, pillowing her head on Dec's chest as he held her close. If she was honest, he wasn't the most comfortable pillow right now, his muscles unbearably tense as his imagination whirred with all manner of things that could go wrong.

Close to sleep again, Ali murmured, "Stop thinking. Get some more sleep," before nuzzling into her husband's neck and dozing off, content in his arms despite her pounding headache. Dec, however, couldn't sleep another wink. He needed reassurance right now – his mind jumping to the most horrible worst case scenarios of them losing their child, him losing Ali and the baby....His mind raced on and on, no longer listening to reason. He desperately needed someone right now, but he had no one.

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 2

                                      You are Not Alone

The following day, after getting a grand total of 4 hours of restless sleep, Dec was taciturn and grumpy, silently picking at his breakfast while his mam tried again and again to bring him out of his shell. Finally giving up on his food, Dec decided to at least drink the strong tea his mam had handed him – he needed something to wake him up, after all – and mumbled that he was going out on the back deck for a bit. Settling down in a deck chair, Dec's mind wandered as he took in the tranquility of the morning. He loved his mam to bits, but she could get a bit smothering at times. And he appreciated her attempts at helping him, counseling him, but in his current exhausted, totally stressed out state, she wasn't really doing him any favors by constantly bringing up everything he'd come here to try to forget.

Hearing a ping on his phone notifying him of a work email arriving in his inbox, Dec pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket, eyeing it suspiciously. It was an email from Georgia, their talent manager. Dec frowned. The management team knew he was on vacation, and they wouldn't normally bother him unless something important was happening. Placing his tea on the wooden slats of the deck, he hesitantly opened the email, a nervous dread pooling in his belly. Only to immediately let out a stressed sigh as he saw a short message from Georgia followed by an attached story from The Sun.

"Hate to bother you while on vacay, but thought you ought to know the tabloids are starting to get hold of rumours. We might not be able to hide this much longer. G x"

Underneath was a link to an article....Although the urge to just smash his phone to the ground was strong, Dec forced himself to open the hyperlink – already knowing what he would find – and was immediately faced with multiple photos of Ant, Anne-Marie, and her two daughters, paired with a headline about Ant looking "happy and relaxed" while out shopping with a "female pal." Laying his phone on his thigh with a trembling hand, Dec rubbed at his eyes for a moment, his anxiety level rising, before lifting his phone again and starting to meticulously study the photos of Ant.

It felt like ages since he'd last seen Ant, while in fact it had only been a week. He just couldn't get used to this whole "not living down the road from each other" concept. He hated being so far away from Ant, and again his heart stung painfully when he remembered how Ant had explained he wanted to be closer to Anne-Marie. They'd always lived close by, he and Ant, and even though it had already been about a month since Ant moved, it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that there was a half hour's drive separating them. He fully understood Ant's need to get away from the area where he'd built a life with Lisa – it was still quite awkward walking past what used to be Ant and Lisa's home – but still his smarting mind took it the wrong way, telling itself that Ant had moved away because Dec wasn't a good enough friend. That he hadn't been there for Ant, that Ant hated him for not realizing how much he was suffering, for being selfish and continuing on with their TV shows despite Ant's need for extended time away from the spotlight.

Deep down, Dec knew his mind was spewing lies at him, born of a deep-seated insecurity in his own worth. Ant could never hate him, he knew that, but still his mind could torture him with the possibility that Ant might hate him, and just was very good at pretending not to. Still studying the photos of Ant, Dec felt a spark of pride in his heart at how well he was doing. He was far from well, that much was obvious – he was still far too frail-looking for a start – but he already was loads better than he had been a few short months ago. Ant had been working so hard to make himself a better man, to get well, and Dec was extremely proud of him. At the end of the day, he honestly didn't care if they ever made a comeback on telly. That was the least of his worries.

Sighing despairingly, Dec finally closed the article – not having read a word of it – and typed out a brief reply to Georgia.

"Thanks. Just try to keep them off his back as long as possible. We can't have any setbacks. Dx"

Realistically, Dec knew it would be sooner rather than later that the news of Ant's new relationship would hit the headlines. But they had to try at least. He was terrified of the public's response to Ant's new romance, knowing it would not be pretty when everyone – Lisa included – found out about Ant and Anne-Marie. And more than anything, Dec was beyond scared of Ant suffering a major setback in his recovery if a new flood of hate and paparazzi/press attention came raining down on him. After the past year – from when news of Ant's addiction problems first broke in 2017, all the way through to now – Dec harbored a deep hatred of the press for the way they'd treated his best friend. He was also finding it extremely difficult to cope with their constant intrusion on him and Ali, but he hated them for what they'd done to Ant. And he honestly didn't know what he'd do if they caused him to suffer another relapse.

Any peace Dec had gained from the quiet of the morning had now gone, replaced by a feeling of intense dread and anxiety, paired with the ever-present ache in his heart at the absence of his friend from his life. They'd last spoken on Wednesday, five days ago now, and that had been a 5-minute phone conversation because Ant "had to go" but would be "in touch." Well, five days later, and not a word from him. Yet he clearly was out and about, having a fabulous time with Anne-Marie and her daughters. Jealousy and pain stung at Dec's heart, even though he tried hard not to let the green-eyed monster of envy rise within him. He was happy for Ant and Anne-Marie, he really was, but was it so much to ask for to just be able to spend some time with his best friend?

Deciding his current train of thought was getting him nowhere, Dec drained his mug of the rest of his cold tea, and trudged back inside, throwing himself onto the sitting room settee with an enormous sigh. The faint sounds of his mam singing in the shower upstairs brought a small smile to his face. She was such a strong woman, had such an indomitable spirit and giving heart. Was it any wonder everyone in town loved her? Pulling out his phone again, Dec sent a quick text to his brother Dermott, asking if it would be all right if he came over today. Receiving an affirmative reply within minutes, Dec settled back amongst the soft cushions to await his mother. He couldn't leave the house without telling her he was going out – he didn't want her to worry, after all – and figured he also ought to apologize for being so tetchy and uncommunicative at the breakfast table earlier that morning.

Eventually getting her blessing on his plans for the day – spend a quiet day at the church with Dermott, and visit the cemetery where his father was buried – Dec set off, hoping some prayer and quiet reflection might help to ease his tortured mind.

Dermott greeted him with a warm, lingering hug – the kind of hug you never wanted to end, as it spoke of deep love and acceptance – not saying much, just taking in his brother's haggard features, so different from the face of the consummate professional who had just finished a successful solo run on Britain's Got Talent only 8 days ago. Ushering his brother into the sanctuary, Dermott prepared to leave Dec to his own devices, imagining he had come here mainly for some solitude in which to reflect. To his great surprise, Dec grabbed at his arm when he turned to leave, urgently whispering, "Please pray with me?" his voice trembling, unsure.

So it was that Father Dermott and his brother Declan kneeled at the front of the church together, and spent a good half hour there while they prayed. Dermott was startled at one point during his impassioned plea to the Almighty on his brother's behalf to hear stifled sobs coming from his right side, but continued on as if he heard nothing, knowing Dec needed quiet acceptance of his emotions right now rather than worried questioning.

Dermott felt a paternal sort of care for both Dec and his best friend, being senior to them by several years, and it was hard to see them hurting so much right now. He prayed for them daily, asking God to give them strength to get through these troubled times. He knew through the Donnelly grapevine, not having really spoken to Ant or Dec recently, that Ant was getting better every day. But it was more than obvious now, looking at his little brother kneeling next to him – with head bowed and weary eyes closed – that the happenings of the past few months were tearing Dec apart. And Dermott was very concerned, far more than he would ever let on to Dec. This was his little brother, the same one he had given succor to over the years when he had struggled with problems in his personal life, and it was terrifying to see him so broken and lost.

Having ended his prayer a few minutes ago, Dermott finally rose, holding out a hand to Dec, who accepted the proffered help in silence. Dec seemed reluctant to meet his brother's eyes, instead finding the cuff of his own shirt most interesting, picking at it and twisting it in his nervous hand. He obviously wanted to say something, but couldn't quite pluck up the courage to speak up about what was troubling him. Figuring a walk through the cathedral's Hume Gardens wouldn't hurt, Dermott placed an arm around Dec's shoulders and guided him out into the light. A tiny, childlike voice finally broke the stillness between them: "Will it ever get better?"

Feeling his heart break in his chest, Dermott turned to Dec, pinning him with a firm, but gentle, gaze. "It will, Declan. The Lord will never give you more than you can handle. Everything will work out for the best, you'll see." His kindly voiced words of comfort set something off inside of Dec, and he turned suddenly, facing the other direction as he began to weep bitterly.

"But this is more than I can handle, Derm! I don't know what I'm going to do if just one more thing goes wrong in our life" – Dermott couldn't help but notice how Dec still referred to his and Ant's lives as one life, pairing the pronoun "our" with a singular "life" – "I can't lose him, Dermott, I can't lose him." Collapsing onto a nearby bench, Dec covered his face with his hands as tears continued to stream down his face in a never-ending cascade. Feeling the need to tell someone, Dec muttered, "The press are going to expose Ant's girlfriend soon. It's only a matter of time 'til they figure it out. There are already rumours."

Realizing this news could cause public uproar that could potentially be very damaging to Ant's recovery, Dermott felt the need to reassure Dec that he and Ant were not alone in this.

"Deuteronomy 31:6, Declan – 'Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.' I know life is not the way you wish it to be right now, Declan, but you are not alone, and never forget that."

Nodding at his brother's soothing words, Dec cried harder at the words "you are not alone" – the loneliness of his existence swallowed him whole most days. The odd thing was, he wasn't alone, he wasn't truly lonely in the full sense of the word. Ali was there for him constantly, as was his family, but the hole left in his life by the absence of his friend was unlike any loneliness he'd ever experienced before. And he had been no stranger to isolation during those endless years of being single, unable to find a steady girlfriend who loved him for being him rather than loving him for his money. But this was different, and far, far more painful. It was like a piece of him was missing, a very vital piece of him that he couldn't live without, and it was something he couldn't quite reconcile himself to, couldn't figure out how he was meant to live like this.

Tears finally slowing to a trickle, Dec scrubbed at his eyes like a small child, letting out a deep sigh. Dermott saw this as his cue to leave his brother for some private reflection, and with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, made his way back into the cathedral, leaving his brother in solitude.

Hours later, a puffy-eyed Dec wandered back into the cathedral's sanctuary, but finding no one, headed next door to the Cloister Café, the cathedral's very own cafeteria and restaurant. His suspicions that his brother was visiting with parishioners in the café were proven right when he saw Dermott speaking with an elderly couple at a table near the back of the building. Stepping up to order himself a cuppa, Dec let out an annoyed sigh as he felt a buzz in his trouser pocket. He'd put his phone on vibrate earlier in the day, not wanting to be disturbed but also not daring to put it on silent in case anything happened with Ali or Ant. Digging his phone out wearily, Dec felt a sense of foreboding come over him as he saw a text from Ali.

"Feeling a bit off-colour. Could you come home early? Xx"

Dec had planned on staying in Newcastle until Wednesday at least, needing a couple more days to try to clear his mind....But if Ali needed him – and she wasn't normally one to whinge about not feeling well, so it must be rather serious – he had to go back to London, and as soon as possible. Cancelling his order of tea with an apologetic smile, Dec made his way over to Dermott, explaining the situation tensely, worry evident in his voice.

Dermott's heart sank when he heard the news. He had hoped that Dec could maybe find some peace, would be able to relax a bit if he had another couple of days here at home being spoiled by his mam, but obviously his wife and unborn child came first. And of course this was the last thing Dec needed right now – another thing to worry about. But with a final blessing and firm hug, Dermott sent his little brother on his way back to their mam's house to break the news to her and book the next available flight back to London. That night, Dermott's fervent prayer was that Dec would be given the strength to get through the days, weeks, and months to come. None of them knew how long it would be before Ant could even attempt to come back to work, but for Dec's sake, Dermott's earnest supplication was that his brother's relationship with his best friend would be healed and their bond remain unbroken. It was the only way either of them could survive.

[decandantfics]

When You Need Me - Part 1

                                  What if They’re Right?

Dec was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. It had been just over 3 months since Ant's arrest, and life had been a nonstop, out of control rollercoaster ever since that fateful day. Each day posed a new challenge for Dec, who had recently finished his second solo presenting stint on Britain's Got Talent and now had a little bit of downtime before the next big project loomed. He hadn't been sleeping well for months, anxiety dreams and nightmares plaguing his nights, leaving him feeling exhausted and utterly defeated by the time morning came. His diet was all over the place – sometimes he could barely eat the healthy meals Ali cooked for him, while other days he found himself stress eating, binging on Chinese takeaways and junk food. Even though it had been three months since everything kicked off, he was still having trouble adjusting to being almost daily tabloid fodder and the subject of frequent paparazzi ambushes. BGT had been incredibly stressful, as had the weeks of production meetings and rehearsal/training sessions for opening routines in the lead up to the actual live shows. Actually, everything was stressful these days, it seemed like. Dec felt like he was being attacked on all sides, like he could trust nobody, everyone was out for his and Ant's blood.

He had decided to go home to Newcastle for a few days, needing to get away from the constant paparazzi attention in London. He had hoped he could get some peace and quiet, maybe even spend a day or two of prayer and reflection at the Catholic retreat his brother Dermott helped run. Ali had stayed behind in London – she wasn't keen on flying with the baby on the way, and neither she nor Dec felt like driving or taking a train. When Dec arrived in Newcastle International Airport, he could feel his shoulders slump as he took in a deep breath. He felt like he could breathe again. He'd somehow managed to sneak out of London without any paps spotting him, thanks to taking an early morning flight, and now he was rushing through the terminal in Newcastle, hoping against hope no one would spot him. Miraculously, he got to his hired taxi without anyone recognizing him – no mean feat in his and Ant's home city – and hopped in, muttering the address to his mam's house.

The cabbie had obviously recognized him as soon as he saw him, but was discrete enough to realize Dec was in no mood for talking, so kept quiet, driving through the city streets with the radio playing quietly. The radio was tuned to a local talk show station, and the hosts were currently talking about various entertainment news. Dec was halfway enjoying their busy chatter, zoning in and out of their conversation about various actors and upcoming films...Until they said a heartbreakingly familiar name: Ant McPartlin. Mind sharpening painfully, despite knowing he'd be better off not hearing whatever they were about to say, he listened intently.

Man's voice: "So what do you think of Jeremy Hunt's recent remarks on Twitter about local heroes Ant and Dec? The Sun have printed a story about it. Do you think he's right, that Dec's better on his own, that it would be better for them both if they split up?"

Woman: "D'you know, I get what he's saying, like. Dec's done an amazing job by himself, but I still can't quite get used to seeing him all on his own. It just don't look right."

Man: "But did you see what Jeremy said? That he thinks Ant's had enough, but keeps coming back because Dec wants him to? You've got to admit, that does seem plausible. If he's depressed and turning to drink and drugs, he can't be enjoying his job that much. Jeremy also claims Dec has always been the more confident of the two, where Ant's more shy. If Dec's forcing Ant to carry on, that's not a healthy relationship, he's not putting Ant first...."

"TURN OFF THE RADIO!" Dec shouted, startling the driver so badly the car nearly went off the road. Hurriedly hitting the volume button to mute the radio, the driver glanced in the rear view mirror, looking rather ashamed. "Sorry, squire," he apologized, sounding genuine, although a bit shocked. If what had transpired a few seconds ago had stunned him, what he saw in the mirror really shook him to his core. Dec was curled in on himself in the backseat, hands covering his face as his shoulders shuddered continuously with the sobs he was trying so hard to suppress. Turning his eyes back to the road in silent dismay, the cabbie felt his heart going out to the broken man in the back of his car.

Dec was in agony. The talk show host's words were echoing in his head, constantly bouncing off the walls of his mind, burrowing deeper, deeper into his wounded soul. The guilt he'd been trying so hard to work through with his therapist had reappeared as if by magic, taunting him, telling him he could have prevented all of this if only he'd paid more attention to his friend. Seeds of doubt had now been sown in his mind – what if Ant was just doing the telly stuff because of him? And who the hell did Jeremy Hunt think he was, anyway?! Who was he to comment on them, on their relationship? Dec could feel righteous fury erupting from his fractured heart. He knew anger wasn't healthy, especially with everything he was dealing with physically and emotionally these days, but he couldn't help it. He. Was. Furious.

The thing is, he wasn't even truly angry at Jeremy Hunt or the insensitive radio host. He was angry at the world. At life. At himself. Dec had been trying so hard to work through his issues, to heal and leave behind the pain, to find a new normal. And he had made some progress – admittedly, not very much, but it was still progress. Yet with a few choice sentences, some random stranger on the radio – and a random soap opera star claiming to be a "close friend" – had eaten away every single bit of headway he'd made, and had burned new holes in his wounded soul that would need to be addressed. He'd had about enough of this. He couldn't take much more. What a great start to his time off.

Thankfully, the taxi was now pulling up in front of his mam's house, marking an end to his disastrous journey home. Scrubbing his face with his hands tiredly, Dec clambered out of the car, walking around to the boot to take out his luggage. To his immense surprise, the cabbie was already there, silently handing him his things with a sympathetic smile on his face. No, no, no. Dec couldn't cope with pity right now, he was too close to breaking down as it was. But he resisted the urge to snap at the man, instead thanking him in a trembling voice and giving him a generous tip with the pointed words, "You didn't see anything." Nodding in understanding, the man shook Dec's hand firmly, and with a heartfelt, "Take care," climbed back into his vehicle and drove away, marveling at what he'd just been witness to.

Hearing the quiet swish of a door opening behind him, Dec turned to see his mam, Anne, standing on the threshold, a bright, welcoming smile gracing her features. Her face quickly fell when she saw the weary resignation cloaking her son's normally cheerful face, and she ushered him inside, clucking over him like a mother hen. He was her youngest, and had always been coddled as a child, having everything done for him by his parents and the rest of his siblings. Her son really hadn't changed much over the years. Yes, he'd matured, had grown stronger, wiser, and far, far richer, but in essence, fame and money hadn't really altered the young man who'd left for London with his best friend all those years ago. But he scared her now, she'd never seen him like this in his 42 years of life. Ali had been good about keeping Anne in the loop on how her son was coping with everything – which wasn't very well – but Anne was still worried sick over her young Declan who meant so much to her. He was a shell of his former self, and it was frightening to see her son so broken and very far away from himself.

She didn't blame Ant for Dec's current condition. Yes, she was angry with Ant for what he'd done, but she was also extremely concerned about him – she loved him like a son, and she knew how much he and Dec loved each other and needed each other. She was praying for Ant to get well, talking to him regularly and trying to be a good secondary motherly support to him as he turned his life around. She spoke with Christine almost daily – in some ways, their close friendship with each other was not dissimilar to the one Ant and Dec shared – exchanging news of their respective son and their worries over them. Anne was extremely proud of Ant and all he had done to change his ways and find a happier life away from the temptations of alcohol. She knew, deep down, that he would come through this all. She just hoped her son would, too.

Having settled Dec on the sitting room settee, Anne bustled into the kitchen where she'd had a kettle on the boil in readiness for her son's arrival. She'd also baked some of his favourite biscuits the night before, hoping the special treat would help raise his spirits. She wasn't feeling quite as confident of their success at their mission in life now she'd seen her son, but she was going to try anyway. Carrying Dec's tea and a plate of biscuits into the sitting room, Anne paused as her eyes took in the sight in front of her. Dec was standing by the window looking out into the back garden, silent tears coursing down his cheeks, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso in a self-hug, a seemingly desperate attempt at gaining some form of comfort.

Placing the tea and biscuits on the coffee table, Anne walked up to her son and gently turned him to face her before securing him in a warm hug that radiated motherly love and care. That opened the floodgates, and mother and son stood without speaking for several minutes, Dec wrapped up in his loving mother's arms. When the shuddering breaths had finally slowed to breathy hiccups, Anne led Dec over to the settee, wordlessly handing him his mug of tea. Mustering a small, childlike smile of delight when he saw his favourite biscuits, Dec murmured, "I love you, Mam. Thank you."

"Oh, Declan, you know I'd do owt for you, pet," Anne spoke gently, rubbing her son's arm with her thumb. "Did something happen on the way here? You sounded so excited over the phone yesterday." Unable to lie to his mam, Dec simply nodded his head, casting his teary eyes to the floor as he remembered the cruel words that had sucked away the peace he'd initially felt upon entering his hometown. "Did you read the papers today, Mam?" he asked, voice hushed and quivering with misery. "No, Declan, you know I won't touch the tabloids anymore, not after what they've done," came her quiet reply, her voice laced with bitter distaste.

Dec and his family partly blamed the press for Ant's inability to fully recover from his addictions after his first stint in rehab the previous year. The paps had hounded him nonstop, with stories being run almost daily for months on end. Vicious rumors had abounded, further hindering his difficult recovery from the illness that had gripped him for so long. And when the news of his divorce hit the fan, things got even worse. He wasn't coping well at all with the public's knowledge and speculation over the breakdown of his marriage – not to mention the sorrow he felt at the end of such a long, previously happy relationship – and it was at this point that the secret drinking had begun again, he'd later admitted to his shattered mam, Christine.

So the Donnelly clan were right to hold a bitter grudge against the tabloids, as the papers' meddling in business that wasn't theirs had played a vital role not only in the public downfall of a man they considered family, but also the private breakdown of their beloved son, brother, uncle. Every last member of the vast Donnelly family had been doing their part in trying to support Dec and buoy him up, but they were all worried about his mental health. It was no secret amongst certain members of the family that Dec had struggled with mental health in past years, but none of them had ever seen him this bad, and, quite frankly, it scared them.

In the end, Dec couldn't bring himself to repeat what he'd heard, instead pulling up The Sun's article on his phone and silently wincing as he showed it to his mam. She'd surprised him by cursing loudly as she read the article – Anne was a gentle, kindly woman by nature, and it was extremely rare for her to utter even one curse word, much less an angry torrent of words as was leaving her mouth now. Eventually shoving Dec's phone back into his hands with a terse order to "Put it away," Anne turned to her son, an accusatory tone to her soft voice. "You know you're not to read the papers, son, you know that! We've been through this before, Declan, it's not good for you!"

"But I didn't, Mam," Dec weakly defended himself. His voice now nothing but a whisper, "I heard it on the radio, a talk show. They said we have an unhealthy relationship, that Ant's only working 'cause I want him to, that I'm not putting Ant first. What if they're right?" The last sentence was tortured, trembling, full of pain. Her heart breaking as she took in her distraught son's words, Anne was filled with anger at the insensitive brutes who had hurt her son with their callous words.

"I can tell you right now, they're full of s***!!" Anne vehemently stated, fixing her son with an intense gaze. "Christine has told me a million times how Ant is missing working with you, how much he loves and misses his job." Dec's eyes filled with tears at his mother's words, longing for the days when he and Ant would spend each and every day together, attending meetings, filming, working up ideas for shows....Yes, he misses working with Ant, too, more than words could express. "He doesn't blame you for owt, Declan, and you know it." Her son nodded. Just once, but she knew he understood.

"Christine said Ant was planning on going out shopping today with the girls?" The unspoken question hung in the air, Anne unwilling to give voice to her silent query. She knew Ant hadn't been keeping in touch with Dec as much lately, his new relationship with Anne-Marie taking up much of his time and energy. Anne knew her boy through and through, and could tell that Dec wasn't coping well with Ant giving him the cold shoulder in favor of spending time with his new girlfriend and her two daughters. Dec had always been very possessive of Ant, even back when they were teenagers, and she could tell he was hurt that Ant was currently choosing Anne-Marie over him. But of course Dec wanted nothing more than for Ant to be happy again, so said nothing, accepting his fate of apparently becoming second best in Ant's life. But it hurt, of course it did, and his jealousy over Ant's love and attention was one of the issues he had started working on with his therapist. So Anne was hardly surprised when Dec flinched before answering, "I don't know, was he?" sounding defensive but lost, not dissimilar to a petulant child who'd had his favourite toy stolen away from him.

"When's the last time you spoke, Declan?" Anne asked gently, her eyes searching his. His answer was halting, mumbled. "Last week?" The loneliness was palpable in his voice, and Anne felt a tiny bit of ire at Ant for ignoring her son when he needed him most. They needed each other, Anne corrected herself, remembering Christine's recent concern over Ant admitting to distancing himself slightly from Dec out of guilt at what he was putting his friend through. Ant obviously knew Dec had just finished the BGT live shows about a week ago – he and Dec had gone for a quick meal together the day after the final – and he had been shocked to see how utterly drained Dec looked, which of course sparked the fire of guilt in Ant's mind. Plus, of course, Ant had struggled with the fact that the BGT live shows were taking place without him there. But it wasn't Anne's place to reveal the full truth of the matter to Dec – that was something the two of them would have to work through together – so for now, she just tried to reassure him as best she could that Ant still loved him just as much, it's just he was in the infatuation phase of a new relationship.

To be fair on Dec, he'd never gone through this before. When Ant and Lisa had gotten together, the two men were touring the country as popstars and sharing a flat. So they were always together, and Dec was a constant presence in the early years of Ant and Lisa's relationship, although obviously he was fine with them having time to themselves as well. And Ant had been together with Lisa for almost 25 years, so it had been a long, long time since he'd started a new romantic relationship. Dec was very happy for Ant, naturally. It was still early days for Ant and Anne-Marie, but they already seemed like soulmates, and Ant was loving taking on the role of stepdad to Anne-Marie's two daughters. After struggling so long to have kids with Lisa, it was wonderful for Ant to suddenly have an addition of two children in his life, and they already adored him, so it was all off to a good start.

But it still hurt that Ant was currently choosing Anne-Marie over Dec, and Dec also had some reservations about Ant being so reliant on Anne-Marie for his recovery. What if it all went wrong? What if they had a row over something silly and broke up? What then? How would Ant react? And since Anne-Marie seemed to be more important to Ant than he was, how would he be able to help Ant if it all went pear-shaped again? These thoughts and many more plagued Dec day in and day out, worry over his nearest and dearest friend – and the whole sorry situation – driving him mad and further damaging his health, both mental and physical. All he longed for was to have his Ant back again, but the ache in his heart and insecurity over his own worth taunted him, telling him things would never be the same again.

[decandantfics]

Make Everything Better

A/N – This was super fun to write – the boys just sort of took over for me, to be honest. So hopefully it's as enjoyable to read as it was to put it on paper. Just a bit of a laugh, this one, inspired by a recent conversation with wizkiddx...

"Yes, Dec, I know it's stupid, but..." Ant and Dec were in the early stages of rehearsals for the second BGT semi-final of 2019, and things weren't exactly going as planned. First, that morning's production and script meeting had overrun by nearly 45 minutes, putting everyone behind schedule. Then, there had been a major problem with some of the lighting for the main stage, setting them further behind and forcing the team to rearrange the order of rehearsals so that the lights issue could be fixed without slowing down the day's flow. So now, rather than all of the acts rehearsing in the order they would perform that night, they were all shuffled, resulting in a bit of all 'round confusion.

Although they had arrived at the Hammersmith Apollo in high spirits, relieved to have the first show out of the way and excited for their second show back together, both Ant and Dec were feeling decidedly stressed and a bit put out by the time the second act of the day was beginning to rehearse. Ant was managing to go with the flow a bit better than Dec; Ant had always been rather more laid back when it came to things like this – Dec had often said in the past that he had to worry for the both of them, since Ant would just dismiss any issues with the old adage that everything would be "all right." So while Ant was feeling slightly annoyed at all of the day's disruptions (it was still only 11:30am), Dec was in a right strop already, complaining about anything and everything. It was a bit reassuring, really, Ant mused, to see this other side of Dec for once, as it showed that Dec hadn't actually changed that much while he'd been away. While Ant had been off work last year, Dec had never once mentioned frustrations or annoyances connected with their job – and Ant supposed there must have been many – instead focusing solely on their relationship and being a strong shoulder to lean on for Ant. So Ant hadn't been exposed to a stressed, rather prickly Dec for quite some time. And to be honest, he'd forgotten just how annoying Dec could be when he was like this – even the slightest thing could set him off on a rant again, just like the one he was in the middle of right now.

"It makes no sense, though, does it!" Dec groused, eyebrows raised as he took in the latest changes to the day's rehearsals order. "I mean, it's gonna take ages to change the sets between those two acts. What are we supposed to do? We might as well have stayed home today – why bother coming to rehearsals if we're not actually going to rehearse anything, just sit around all day waiting for everyone else to sort their s*** out!" Dec was gesturing wildly by the end of his latest tirade, his exasperation at the day's poor management more than obvious in the shrill tone of his voice. Ant let out a sigh. "Declan." That one word held an accommodating ring to it, but there was a deep undertone of annoyance that was impossible to ignore.

"What? It's true!" Dec insisted stubbornly, continuing, "I sometimes wonder why they even bother having us here – they never listen to a word we say!" Ant rolled his eyes. Now Dec was just getting petty. The BGT team were always willing to listen to Ant and Dec's suggestions, and would take them on board sometimes. But today, Dec's grand plan for efficiently rearranging the schedule had been shot down immediately by a new member of the team who seemed to find it outrageous that the presenters would think they should have any input on how rehearsals were run. To be fair, that lack of respect was what had set Dec off in the first place. He felt very strongly that he and Ant were an integral part of the team and that their thoughts and opinions should, at the very least, be considered. And honestly, Dec's plan for rearranging the schedule had made a lot more sense than the one that had ultimately been decided upon. But now he was just using it as an excuse to complain about everything, annoyance filling his mind, dark storm clouds brewing as he got closer and closer to snapping at someone (other than Ant).

The Vardanyen Brothers were about to begin rehearsing their act, and that fact clearly wasn't helping Dec to calm down at all. In fact, Ant could see the anger dissipating a bit and being replaced by anxiety. He knew how much Dec hated these dangerous acts – he always said how stressful they were to watch – and it looked like this one was going to be pretty crazy. It had been one thing with the Giang Brothers last year, who balanced on each other's head, but it was quite another to see two men placing swords in their mouths and trying to remain in perfect balance with each other, one upside down. Ant himself had a tight knot of nervousness in his stomach as he watched the two men practice their routine. Feeling smallish hands clutch at his arm, Ant turned slightly to see Dec watching the brothers with wide eyes, tension obvious in his face as he met Ant's gaze for a brief moment before his eyes were drawn inextricably back to the two men on stage. Gasps escaped Ant and Dec and the rest of the crew as one of the men abruptly lost his balance and fell to the floor, landing with a sickening thud. Dec's hands were now gripping Ant's arm so hard that it hurt, all color drained from his face as he and Ant watched the paramedics rush onto the stage to check on the fallen man. Blowing out a tense breath, Ant chanced a glance at his pallid friend, trying to reassure him, "I'm sure he's fine, Deccy, it can't have been the first time that's happened to them," patting his hand soothingly.

After a few tense moments, the man was helped up off the floor by his brother, and after another quick once-over by the paramedics, the two brothers resumed their routine, albeit a bit more carefully this time. Ant relaxed as it became evident that no major harm had been done; Dec's nerves were shot, however, his already high stress level having gone through the roof with that rather scary interruption amid an otherwise seamless performance. Ant watched as Dec reached for his strongly caffeinated tea, taking a long gulp as his eyes remained fixed on the two men on stage. And just like that, Ant found himself wondering what Dec had been like during last year's live shows. He knew how stressed Dec had been over the past year – how could he not be with that level of pressure resting on his shoulders – and he also knew that stress could make Dec tetchy at the best of times, and downright bad-tempered at the worst. Sort of like right now, to be honest.

Finally tearing his gaze away from the Vardanyen Brothers, Dec caught Ant staring at him. "What?" Dec questioned sharply, as Ant just shook his head and sighed, "Nothing, Declan. Come on, we're needed on stage soon." Ant knew better than to further irritate Dec when he was like this. It was just playing with fire, really. He knew Dec's bad mood wouldn't last forever, it was just a matter of keeping his friend's temper in check until the fire in his belly cooled down a bit. Ant was always pretty good at diffusing situations with a quiet word or a touch on Dec's arm – he was really the only one who could successfully snap Dec out of a mood like this. And Ant was always the one who got moaned at when things went wrong, even if it wasn't his fault – it had always been that way, even back in their PJ and Duncan days. But Ant didn't mind, really; this was a side to Dec that he was more than used to after 30 years of friendship, and he actually sort of enjoyed the challenge of keeping him in check.

Oh, great. That new team member was headed over to them again...And was that a smirk on his face?! Ant stepped a bit closer to Dec, the tension in the air palpable as the two men locked eyes. "Hey, Mr. Presenter-with-a-Plan," the cocky voice rang out, "Time to do some work instead of just sitting around drinking tea and telling us how to do our jobs!" Dec had frozen the moment the impudent young man started talking to him, and now there was rage radiating from his every pore. He was a tinderbox, ready to explode but trying really hard to keep his cool, knowing he really shouldn't blow up at the crew. Ant, however, was now furious. No one talked to his friend like that – Dec was the hardest working guy he knew and what the young man had said was beyond disrespectful. His stride purposeful, Ant stepped in front of Dec with a soft, calming touch to his shoulder – essentially saying, "I've got this" – and stood toe to toe with the cocky newcomer. Adam, apparently, according to his name tag.

"You can bloody well keep your mouth shut if you're going to talk to Dec like that!" Ant's voice was wrathful, his posture threatening, causing Adam to shrink backwards slightly, although keeping the smirk on his face. "Oh, standing up for your lazy little friend, are you? Pint size can't speak for herself?" Adam sniggered – he stood at a height of 6'3", towering over both boys, and thought it was hilarious how tiny, and – to his mind – unmanly Dec was in particular.

"Right. That's enough!!" Ant held back the roar that wanted to come out, instead speaking firmly but loudly enough to be heard by the entire room, furiously glaring at the brazenly insubordinate man in front of him who was at least 15 years their junior. "Apologize now or You. Are. Fired."

Mouth falling open in shock, Adam did an excellent imitation of a fish – his mouth opening and closing several times, no sound coming out – that had Dec in fits of giggles. To be honest, he was quite enjoying the show, even though he was the subject of the man's attack and was righteously outraged himself. People had no idea how hard he and Ant worked, the incredibly long hours they put in to make sure every single one of their shows was as perfect as possible. They worked hard, all the way from the formative stages of the shows through to eventually presenting them live. So Adam's flippant dismissal of their work ethic was deeply unfair, and both men had more than enough reason to be affronted. Not to mention the fact that he had just thoroughly insulted Dec.

"But...You can't fire me! You're not my boss," Adam pleaded, eyes comically wide as he realized what a fool he had been to pick a fight with two national treasures. Dec was still sniggering behind Ant, who now turned back to look at him, secretly sharing an amused grin about the young man he'd reduced to a quivering pile of jelly in front of them.

Alan Conley, the floor manager, had been standing off to the side, watching on in case things got out of hand. He knew Ant and Dec were consummate professionals and would never do anything stupid, but could and would pick their own fights and win them, too. Now he stepped forward into Adam's line of vision: "You bet they can fire you! So if I were you, I'd apologize right quick and let them get on with their job," Alan stated strongly, eyes fixed on the cowering young man.

"Yes, sir," came the meek reply, before, "I'm sorry, I apologize...Please don't fire me?" His eyes still the size of large saucers, Adam's face was a picture, no longer cocky and loaded with fiery disrespect. Dec stepped up alongside Ant, and the two of them shared a look, pretending to think really hard. Before they could reply, Alan broke in again, deciding to have a bit of fun with this.

"Anything you need, boys? Like a refill on your drinks or anything?" Alan questioned, his voice holding a hint of amusement despite his best attempt to look and sound completely serious. Catching on, the boys shared another glance before Dec piped up, "Actually, Alan, now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit peckish. I could go for a jam donut. How 'bout you, Ant?" Greatly enjoying this, Dec's previous foul mood had lifted, being replaced by a cheeky light-heartedness as they played with their stupefied prey.

"Erm, I'll get a latte, thanks," Ant replied, eyes gleaming with mischief. Adam was just standing there, a befuddled expression on his face, not quite following where they were going with this.

"Go on, then, you heard them!" Alan ordered, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth and a tiny bit of a dare, as Adam's mouth fell open once again as he finally understood what was going on. "But...But I'm an associate producer! That's what the runners are for! You can't make me do that! I've got an important job to do!"

"Are you saying the runners don't have an important job?" Ant entered the fray again, voice taking on a dangerous quality. "The runners are every bit as important as the executive producers. Maybe you should learn some work ethic and respect and do as you're told."

Eyes flashing with defiance, Adam stuck his chin up in the air proudly. "Or what?"

"Or," Dec retorted icily, "You can find work elsewhere."

Knowing he'd been defeated, Adam glared at Ant and Dec, before pivoting on his heel and storming off in the direction of the Hammersmith Apollo's café. Once he was out of sight, Ant and Dec shared a sideways glance before bursting into hysterics, having to cling onto each other to stay upright they were laughing so hard. Alan joined in, clapping both boys on the shoulder before being pulled away by a crew member with a question about one of the props for the next act.

"That was the most fun I've had in ages," Dec wheezed, finally getting his breath back as he wiped tears of laughter away. He grinned as he looked at Ant, who was still shaking with laughter beside him as he remembered Adam's scandalized face at being reduced to a runner. "He asked for it!" Ant finally responded, a tiny bit of rage creeping back into his eyes as he remembered the young man's utter lack of respect for his friend.

Sidling back up to Ant, Dec fluttered his eyelashes at him flirtatiously, teasing, "I like it when you fight for me, makes me feel all important." Snorting, Ant grinned and shook his head at his absurd friend, who was now sticking his tongue out at him. Making a grab for his tongue, Ant burst out laughing when Dec snatched his hand and tickled his palm with his tongue, wiggling his eyebrows at him. "You dirty Declan, you!" Ant burst out in mock disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans before they both fell against each other in fits of giggles again.

As they were called on stage to rehearse the next link, Dec turned to Ant one last time, a grateful look on his face. "Thanks, Ant, I needed that. You can always make everything better." Giving him a genuine grin, Dec pulled Ant in for a quick hug while Ant smiled contentedly. It was good to be back.

[decandantfics]

Just the Two of Us - Part 2

                                        It’s All Over Now

"Al, have you seen me bowtie?" a mellow voice echoed down the hall. "On the armoire, dear," Ali replied lightly, eyes smiling as she heard her husband scurrying around in the room opposite where she was seated with their 8-month old baby, Isla, reading her daughter's favorite book about a hungry caterpillar that ate everything in sight. A few minutes later, Dec emerged from their bedroom, resplendent in his tuxedo and shiny shoes, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You sure you'll be okay on your own here?" he questioned, eyes clouding with concern and a hint of guilt as he took in his wife's tired features. "Yes, love, we've been through all this before," Ali smiled. "Anne-Marie's coming over around 3 to help out with Isla, and then we're going to watch the BAFTAs together – keep an eye out for your cheeky faces on the big screen!" Chuckling, Dec walked over to where his wife was sitting with their daughter, and kissed and hugged them both fondly. Hearing the honk of a horn outside, Dec gave his girls one last cuddle, and bounced out of the room with a cheery wave, trotting down the stairs – taking two at a time – before shouting "Love ya!" up the stairs and quietly shutting and locking the front door behind him. Hopping into the car, Dec gave Joe, their driver, a sunny smile and settled down for the journey, pulling out his phone to send a quick text.

Half an hour later, the car pulled up outside a discrete Wimbledon residence. A black-haired man wearing a cheesy grin was waiting at the gate, and quickly climbed into the car after being enthusiastically accosted by his slightly shorter friend, who had insisted on jumping out and giving him a warm, welcoming hug before Ant could even take one step away from his gate. Dec was now sitting in the middle seat, right next to Ant, chattering excitedly about the day to come. Ant could only smile in amusement at his friend who, quite frankly, greatly resembled a hyper, overexcited puppy right at the moment. It was adorable, and it warmed Ant's heart to know that he was the reason for Dec's exuberant animation right now. He knew his friend had struggled mightily with his extended absence last year, and he still felt guilty about everything he'd put him through, but days like today reminded him that Dec really did rely on him a great deal for his own happiness. Ant was excited about attending today's BAFTAs, too, but he had to admit he was a little bit nervous about it as well. In the end, though, he couldn't help but get swept up in Dec's boyish excitement, and found himself looking forward to this day out with his best friend just as much as Dec clearly was.

Another 30 or so minutes later, their car arrived at the Royal Festival Hall, pulling up at the drop-off site for those walking the red carpet. "Here we go, then, Ant. You ready?" Dec questioned gently, seemingly just now becoming aware that Ant might be a bit nervous about today's event. "Yeah, I'm fine," Ant grinned, his eyes meeting Dec's, which, although they were still sparkling with excitement, held a deep hint of concern. And to be fair, Ant was actually feeling quite fine indeed, Dec's high spirits having rubbed off on him, making him almost sort of giddy. Apparently convinced as to the honesty of Ant's reply, Dec squeezed his wrist gently before opening the door of the van and climbing out, Ant following close behind. Meeting Simon Jones as they exited the vehicle, the boys got a quick briefing of what to expect as far as media interviews, photocalls, etc., and then they were off. Both Ant and Dec had been insistent that they didn't want to focus on red carpet interviews and photo ops today, but instead wanted to spend as much time as possible with their fans, giving back to those who had helped them through the toughest year of their life.

As they made their way onto the red carpet, dispensing multitudinous autographs and selfies to adoring fans, Ant and Dec just couldn't stop smiling. Ant couldn't help but notice how Dec was staying close by his side protectively, like an overzealous guard dog, never letting more than a few strides separate them at any one time. It was quite heartwarming, really, although the thought of Dec as a small but mighty guard dog brought an amused smile to Ant's face – Scrappy Doo! Catching Dec looking at him curiously, Ant just shook his head at him and grinned. Even though their day at the BAFTAs had only just begun, it already felt like it had been a great day. To see and feel the love and support of their fans close up and personal was quite moving for Ant, since there had been many days when he had questioned whether he would be welcomed back. Dec had always insisted that everyone was missing him, but there had always been that seed of doubt in Ant's mind, making him wonder if he could still be accepted by the public after what he'd done. So to be amongst such an outpouring of love from their fans today was very special, and Ant was immensely grateful to the fans and to his loyal friend – still glued to his side – who had helped him through his darkest days.

Eventually reaching their first photocall area, Ant and Dec stepped in front of the red carpet backdrop. Dec couldn't help but be reminded of the previous year's horror as he walked up to the backdrop, and shuddered as he remembered the never-ending nightmare last year's BAFTAs had turned out to be. Feeling Ant's concerned gaze on him, Dec met his eyes, trying hard to squash down the sadness that had come over him with that sudden, unwanted memory. "It's nothing," Dec said, as casually as possible, trying to downplay his inner distress as he knew it would only make Ant feel guilty. Clearly unbelieving, Ant raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but couldn't continue with his questioning due to the shouts of photographers. Realizing Ant hadn't believed him – really, how did he ever think he'd fool him, anyway! – Dec decided he wasn't going to let the ghosts of last year's event haunt him today. This was their day out together, just the two of them, and they were going to enjoy it. With that thought, Dec glanced at Ant again, a genuine smile on his face this time. Understanding dawned on Ant's face as he realized Dec had had a flashback to last year – 'Bloody hell, it's impossible to hide anything from him,' Dec thought to himself – and he smiled reassuringly at his smaller friend. He understood well enough the struggles Dec was continuing to have with his mental health – Ant himself still had flashbacks which would occasionally result in small setbacks in his recovery, but both men's wounds were healing, slowly but surely. "At least your date's a heck of a lot prettier this year!" Ant quipped, while camply fluttering his eyelashes at Dec, making him throw his head back with laughter, his eyes sparkling like the night sky with love and joy. On the sidelines, Simon Jones smiled – Ant and Dec were back.

They had finally made it into the Royal Festival Hall and taken their seats. Dec had joked that maybe they should sit the wrong way 'round, just to confound everyone, but they laughingly decided that that would be too disruptive to the British public's sanity, so sat in their normal formation, Ant on the left and Dec on the right. Dec was basking in all the close physical contact with Ant today. One of the things he had missed most in the past year was Ant's presence next to him – not having Ant to lean on, grab onto, hold him, hug him. It was terribly destabilizing to reach a hand out or lean to his right, only to find nothing but thin air there. Ant had already gently teased him for being "clingy" a couple of times today, but that certainly wasn't going to stop Dec from getting more than his fair share of "Ant time." Dec was currently leaning on Ant slightly, their upper arms pressed up together, as they held a whispered conference on the merits of 'Killing Eve'  vs. 'Bodyguard.' Dec was hoping Killing Eve's leading actress, Jodie Comer, would win the Leading Actress BAFTA tonight – Ant had forced it out of him that he had a bit of a crush on her – while Ant was hoping Bodyguard would take home at least one or two BAFTAs tonight. Most of the award categories up until this point hadn't been all that interesting and the boys had become bored, so started chatting to each other, much to the amusement of the teams from their three shows – all of which were nominated for awards tonight – who were sat in the rows surrounding them. Ant and Dec were basically dead to the universe at this point, completely wrapped up in their own world – made up of each other – and didn't immediately notice that one of their team members was tapping them both on the shoulder from the row behind them, trying to get their attention.

"BGT and Takeaway are up next!" the lady whispered, nodding towards the screen. 'Oh, right, when did that happen?' Dec wondered, again reminded of last year's awards ceremony that had seemed to drag on for hours. Now the time had just flown by. Ant nudged him with his shoulder as their first category of the night was announced, and they glanced at each other, sharing a nervous grin. Both men's hearts raced as the clips of the nominated shows were shown one by one. Both Ant and Dec were really hoping Takeaway would win this year since it had been such a big series, what with the 100th episode and all that. Dec was rather more optimistic about their chances tonight than Ant was – Dec had defiantly stated in one red carpet interview that they could sweep all three awards tonight, while Ant had been rather more reserved, cautioning Dec that they could also be the biggest losers of the night. But Dec was still holding onto the hope that they would pick up at least 2 of the 3 awards tonight. He wanted this to be a special night for Ant, a night where he would realize that not only the fans, but also the industry, his peers, were welcoming him back and accepting him despite everything that had transpired over the past couple of years. So it was to Dec's great delight when Britain's Got Talent was announced as the winner of the Entertainment Programme. His arms itched to wrap around Ant in a celebratory hug, but Ant was already off, hugging everyone on their team, so Dec had no choice but to head down to the stage, knowing Ant would be close behind him. A massive grin etched onto his face, Dec strode up onto the stage, accepting the proffered award and taking his place behind the podium, turning to wait for Ant. His eyes shining, Dec beamed at Ant as he came to stand next to him.

"Well, thank you very much!" Ant started off, before becoming more hesitant. Only then did Dec realize that he and Ant hadn't actually discussed this award – he had just assumed they'd do the acceptance speech, since that's what they'd always done over the years. "I guess we're speaking on behalf of everybody?" Ant addressed Dec, a slightly nervous look on his face. "It looks like it," Dec rejoined, a bit concerned now as Ant let out a stressed-sounding, "Okay!" But Dec needn't have worried, as Ant's quicksilver mind started firing immediately and they fell into easy banter between the two of them, taking the Mick out of the judges, and playing up their own role on the show. Dec could tell Ant was nervous, so took the reins a bit whenever he felt Ant was unsure of what to say next. Finishing off with a completely in sync, "Thank you very much!" the boys made their way off stage, congratulating their team as they went. Once off stage, Dec enveloped Ant in a massive bear hug, whispering a "Well done," in his ear. Ant grinned fondly at him as they pulled away, patting him on the back before lightly pushing him forward. They had decided to do a very brief backstage photo op for BGT before letting the rest of the team go on to the main photograph session and press room interviews. There wasn't a whole lot of time between the first two awards they were nominated for, and they didn't want to miss anything on the off chance they won something else tonight.

Ant, Dec, and the BGT team were lining up backstage – not quite in order yet, it had to be admitted, as Dec was on Ant's right instead of the other way around – when someone cracked a bizarre, somewhat inappropriate joke. It particularly tickled Ant, who broke into fits of laughter, leaning his chin on Dec's shoulder – their heads touching – he was laughing so hard. In that moment, Dec could have burst with happiness. This is what he'd been hoping for tonight. Yes, he was mainly excited because he and Ant would get to spend some quality time together, but he also really wanted Ant to just be Ant again. He wanted to feel like things were back to normal, that the past was no longer haunting them, that they were just plain Ant and Dec again. It might seem a simple and unimaginative wish to the outsider, but that feeling of normality was something Dec had craved incessantly throughout the weird solitude he'd had to endure for most of 2018. So now, with Ant leaning on him, his raucous laugh resounding in his ears, another previously gaping wound in his heart and mind healed over. His Ant was back – normality had been restored.

I'm a Celebrity... was now up, and Dec could sense Ant's tension. Dec had been dreading this award a bit, since it would be rather awkward for both of them if they won. Holly Willoughby had come along today – to be fair, who wouldn't if there was a chance of their winning a BAFTA – and she would be coming up on stage if they won. But Ant would be, too – Dec had insisted that he should be up there, too – leaving Dec with a slightly odd feeling of betrayal. Yes, of course he understood that Holly fully deserved to be on stage – she had been a life saver last year and had been fantastic – but Dec still felt like he would be betraying Ant by even just having Holly join him at the podium. He knew it was nonsensical, but that's just how his brain worked. His place was at Ant's side and vice versa – it would just be odd for them to be on the stage at the same time but separated. Groaning softly to himself, Dec shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the nominations were read out for the Reality and Constructed Factual award. Feeling a stare on him, Dec tilted his head to find Ant giving him a quizzical "What gives?" sort of look. With Holly sitting right behind them, Dec couldn't say anything, so just shrugged noncommittally before turning back to the screen.

"I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here!" Oh, goodness, they'd only gone and won it. Dec's face froze in shock for a moment, a slight grimace turning into a wan smile as he remembered there would be cameras trained on him now. As Ant cheered and clapped beside him, a grin found its way onto Dec's face, although it felt sort of pinched. Dec was torn – he was beyond happy that their show had won a BAFTA, but upset because now he'd have to navigate what his mind deemed to be a very tricky situation of having the only two professional partners he'd ever had up on stage with him at the same time. Twisting around to look at the celebrating IAC team behind him, Dec caught Ant's eyes, relieved to see a genuine gleam of delight dancing in those green irises he adored. Suddenly remembering Holly behind them, Dec turned the other way to see Holly handing her purse to her sister in preparation to go on stage. Sensing Ant standing up beside him, Dec rose, swiveling on his heels to watch Ant yet again. Dec was so worried about this – he didn't want Ant to feel left out or like he was second best – and found himself studying Ant's face as his friend leaned over the back of their seats to give Holly a warm hug. Right, here came the awkward bit. After pecking Holly on the cheek, Dec headed down the aisle towards the stage, sucking his lips in in a grimacing smile, the expression on his face belying the earthquake that was happening inside.

Mind going into automatic mode, Dec helped Holly up the stairs before jogging forward to accept the award. Without even really thinking about it, he stood on the left side of the podium, leaving a wide space to his right. Oh, this was painful. Dec's eyes were trained on Ant, who was standing well behind the podium while greeting the award presenters and congratulating the team. An intense anxiety filled Dec's heart and mind – this was like going solo again, except this time, his rightful partner was standing on stage with him but couldn't say a word. Ant had been so reluctant to even come up on stage for this award tonight, but Dec had refused to even countenance him not being there, so Ant had eventually agreed to Dec's demands. Right now, it seemed like Holly was going to stand back with the rest of the team. That might make things a bit less weird, Dec thought, before deciding he really ought to say something now. He was meant to be accepting the award, after all! Hearing Ant's voice, Dec turned to see him pushing a slightly unwilling Holly forward, placing her next to Dec behind the podium. Letting out an awkward laugh and trying to make a joke to ease the tension, Dec tried to get on with the speech, but his eyes were drawn to Ant again, who was now standing next to Saul Fearnley, their producer friend who worked on both SNT and IAC.

It was as if Dec's mind was frozen – he couldn't quite spit out the words that needed to be said. His mouth drier than a desert, Dec began with, "Thank you, BAFTA," his voice catching on the last word, sounding slightly tremulous. His hands shook as he played with the heavy gong. Cringing inwardly at his own clumsy words, Dec tried to stutter out his thanks to their team, before deciding to take the bull by the horns. "I'd like to say thank you to Holly...{awkward pause}...for helping me out last year, who did a fantastic job...." He just couldn't do this, he couldn't ignore him, couldn't pretend he wasn't there. "...Erm...standin' in for Ant, who has reluctantly come up here tonight." Dec tried to look around Holly in order to see Ant, Holly quickly stepping out of his way. Grinning as Ant waved at him, Dec turned again to the microphone, "There he is," while letting out a little laugh. Only a handful of laughs rang through the auditorium – oh, this was so awkward! – and Dec was painfully reminded of all the haters, all the people who would make a fuss about Ant coming up on stage with the team, all those who felt Ant didn't even deserve to still be alive, much less on the telly. Feeling a fierce need to protect his friend, Dec continued, an uncomfortable but defiant tone to his voice, "Because he's part – still part – of the team, obviously, and we wanted him up here to celebrate with us as well." There, that should do it, right? That should shut up the idiots! Finishing off with a special shout out to Medic Bob and another awkward joke that didn't quite land, Dec tried to wrap it up as quickly as possible. He couldn't bear much more of this. He honestly just felt like crawling in a hole at the moment. This was so ridiculous. Why couldn't things just go smoothly for him for once?!

Dec and the team had just entered the backstage area when a body collided with his, gentle arms pulling him close and rocking him from side to side. "Well done, kidda," a warm voice whispered into his ear, "I'm so proud of ya." Melting into the embrace, Dec felt tears come to his eyes, his anxiety momentarily receding as he found safety in Ant's arms. Finally pulling away, he and Ant shared a long look that, to even the most casual of observers, could only be classed as a look of love, each finding reassurance in the other's gaze. Dec now had to attend both the photocall and the press room for 'I'm a Celebrity...' and it was something he'd been dreading. Ant accompanied him and the team to just behind the photo backdrop – pausing to cheekily poke his head around the curtain and give a thumbs up to all the photographers, which had the desired effect on Dec: genuine laughter bubbled out of him, and a wide grin appeared on his face. Their moment of fun over, Ant smiled, "I'll be outside, Dec – just going to have a vape. You know where to find me." Squeezing Dec's arm and giving him a wink, Ant sauntered out, heading towards the outdoor area he had traditionally gone to in past years whenever he needed a smoke.

Inwardly, Ant was worried about Dec – hence telling him where he would be �� as he knew questions might come up in the press room that Dec would rather not answer. Dec was still exceedingly emotional about the past year's events, and would start crying at the drop of a hat – even in public – if he was forced to relive what he had gone through. Ant wasn't entirely unaware of how poorly Dec had coped with the BAFTAs last year, either, having one day dragged information out of Saul Fearnley about everything that had happened. Saul had been extremely reluctant to reveal Dec's secret rush to the toilet at the previous year's event, but Ant had refused to let it rest until he knew every last detail. He had wept, unashamedly, when Saul had finally divulged what little he knew of the cause behind Dec's overwhelming distress: "All he said was that he 'missed you so much'," Saul had carefully stated, resting a hand on Ant's arm as he broke down. And now Dec had to face the photographers and press all on his own. Again. Sighing, Ant pushed open the fire exit door and stepped out into the cool air, thoughts revolving around his friend who was currently having to face his demons alone.

Dec felt decidedly self-conscious as he stood next to Saul on the far end of the team – he had outright refused to stand in the middle, giving the excuse that it would look odd to have Becca (one of the executive producers) standing anywhere but in the center, adding that she was very much prettier anyway. His grin felt forced, and he had a strong sense of déjà vu to the previous year's photocall for BGT. There was a herd of elephants rampaging up and down the walls of his stomach, and it felt like a massive bullfrog was lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Trying to squash down the rising panic, Dec forcibly pushed the corners of his mouth up, keeping that false grin in place for as long as it took to get these wretched photos done. Ant should be standing next to him – they should be in the middle like they normally were, putting on their best smiles for the camera. Instead, here he was again, all alone. Oh, how longed for those few moments backstage with the BGT team, when everything had seemed to be back to normal. He hated this, and the thought of what was facing him in the press room made him want to vomit.

Pictures finally finished, Dec and the team filed into the press room, Dec's wobbly legs taking him to the microphone where he – completely unconsciously – stood far to the left, leaving a wide berth where someone else, namely Ant, should be standing. No one came to his rescue – this was his battle to fight, and his alone. The first few questions were benign enough. He hated having to think back to that first show with Holly – they had both been so nervous, Dec also fighting the feeling of cheating on Ant – but he could deal with it if he didn't dwell on it too much. His face still held a mildly painful look, though, as he remembered the days leading up to his debut with a new, albeit very temporary, partner. Then came the kicker. The one question he had been hoping against hope no one would dare ask: "What was the past year like for you?"

Heart wrenching in his chest as the floodgates of painful memories rushed open, Dec paused for a moment, his mind paralyzed by what he was experiencing internally. "Um...It was...Er...a...a...a tough year...um...personally, and professionally," Dec stuttered, daring the tears in his eyes to remain where they were and not embarrass him by rolling down his cheeks. Behind him, Saul Fearnley took a deep breath and shared a despairing glance with another of the producers, before fixing his concerned gaze on Dec yet again. This wasn't going well. Staring up at the corner of the ceiling, Dec blinked several times, while continuing, "Erm...So, yeah, but you know, I just....I...I kind of...I went out and...just tried to do my best and...and k- keep the shows warm for him when he was ready to come back...erm...." Dec was just barely keeping it together, the pain of the past year overwhelming him with its fierceness. Right, focus on that last bit – Ant is back now – Dec commanded himself, willing away the iron fist that was clutching at his throat. "...So...I...I...just tried to deliver as best I could..." Finally winning a partial war with his mental agony, Dec tried to deflect any further questions on the subject by ending with a bit of playful self-praise: "...and, thankfully, they- they've both won BAFTAs tonight, so how cool am I?"

To his great relief, the room burst into laughter, while one of the producers loudly proclaimed, "You really are the world's best mate!" causing Dec to laugh even harder, kicking the floor nervously as he shifted from side to side. Unbeknownst to Dec, Simon Jones had been holding a whispered conference with the lady directing the order of questions from the press while Dec was struggling to answer that terribly unsympathetic query. Simon had ordered that there could only be one further question, and then his client would be leaving. He was a close friend of both the boys, and he hated to see either of them hurting; it was his job to protect them from the press when needed, and that was exactly what he was doing right now. The final question was fairly straightforward, regarding the upcoming live shows for BGT, and Dec could put his feet on solid ground again, answering it easily. With that, he was ushered out of the room by Simon, while Saul fell into step with him for a moment, reaching out to pat his back comfortingly. Saul had never mentioned last year's BAFTAs incident to Dec again, pretending it had never happened to save Dec from embarrassment and further pain, but he knew Dec hadn't forgotten. And he was slightly worried now that there might be a repeat performance, given the fragility of Dec's features and the unnatural sheen to his eyes.

Dec couldn't take it anymore. Giving his team a hurried, grateful glance, he choked out, "I'll be back," before jogging towards a fire exit, not caring that others milling about backstage were staring at him curiously. Barging through the door, Dec burst into tears as he was immediately engulfed in a tight hug, the warmth and familiar hold of his best friend breaking down his defenses and leaving him a helpless, crying mess. Ant honestly didn't know what to say, tears coming to his own eyes as his friend sobbed in his arms. He had suspected Dec might need some time away from the rest of the crowd after having to deal with the press room all by himself, and had devised his "going for a vape" plan, knowing Dec wouldn't suspect anything as it was a perfectly normal thing for Ant to do. But he hadn't quite expected Dec to be this distraught, and it hurt to imagine how much Dec must have been struggling internally as he attempted to answer whatever awful questions they'd tortured him with. Stroking Dec's back comfortingly as he held him close, Ant finally found his voice, murmuring, "It's all over now, it's just the two of us, love." Dec snuggled closer to him at that, breaths slowly evening out as a warmth spread through him, re-sealing all of the metaphorical bullet holes with which that wretched question had riddled his still-recovering heart and mind.

"Yeah, just the two of us," Dec repeated, voice recognizable as his own once again, no longer strangled with untold pain and suppressed emotion. Dec pulled away first, finding Ant's gaze bashfully as Ant wiped his tears away, holding Dec's face in his palms for a moment before gently patting his cheeks and letting his arms fall to his sides again. "Y'all right now?" Ant asked carefully, scrutinizing Dec's face for any continued signs of needing his comfort. As Dec nodded silently, they turned as one to reenter the building, both heading to the gent's – one to relieve himself and the other to wash his face – Ant with his arm slung around Dec's shoulders supportively. If anyone dared stare at them as they made their way to the restroom, Ant glared at them, tightening his arm around Dec protectively. After surviving a year of bleak solitude, Dec finally had his fierce protector back by his side, the one person who would fight to the death for him. He was no longer facing the world alone.

Later on that night, Ant and Dec were leaving the BAFTAs after party. In the end, they'd both had an incredibly fun day – winning 2 out of 3 awards – despite it being quite emotionally charged at times. After having greeted a few waiting fans, both men tiredly clambered into their car, settling down for the long journey ahead. Once their car had left the grounds and they were safely out of reach of any paparazzi, Dec unbuckled his seat belt and slid over towards Ant. Having predicted Dec's move, Ant lifted his left arm automatically at the first sign of movement on the other end of the seat. Snuggling into Ant's side, Dec let out a contented sigh and laid his head on Ant's shoulder, murmuring, "This was the best day ever." Raising an eyebrow, Ant questioned, "Really? It didn't seem all that great for you at times..." trailing off as he remembered the way Dec had completely broken down in his arms only a few hours prior. "Yeah, I know, but that's just me, innit," Dec replied softly. "But you were right, what you said earlier. 'It's just the two of us, love,' you said, and that's what today was all about." Voice warming further, Dec continued, "Today was about you and me being back together, just the two of us, how it used to be. Yeah, we had to deal with some stupid stuff, but just being with you, spending the whole day with you....It was the best day ever, Ant. Just the two of us." Somewhere in the middle of Dec's heartfelt soliloquy, Ant had rested his head on top of Dec's, and now simply nodded, knowing no words were needed in way of a reply. Gently squeezing Dec's shoulder, Ant moved his head briefly to drop a kiss onto his friend's hair as the true meaning of Dec's words hit home. It was just the two of them­­ again – and that meant the world.

[decandantfics]

Just the Two of Us - Part 1

                                     Two, But One: Alone

"Oh, Al, you look stunning, pet." Ali Astall Donnelly glided into the room in a shimmering, floor length gown that made her husband's eyes roam her curves appreciatively before stepping forward and kissing her soundly on her lips. "Not so bad yourself, love – you look very handsome," Ali rejoined as she moved to stand in front of their bedroom mirror, putting the final touches on her makeup. Catching sight of her husband's reflection, Ali frowned. The smile had gone, and had instead been replaced by a look that could only be described as a cross between misery and an intense dread. "Dec, are you okay, love?" Ali questioned softly, only to immediately mentally slap herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course her husband wasn't okay – they would be leaving for the BAFTAs soon, hence her gown and his tuxedo, and it was normally a fun day out with the potential to end in celebration of hard work paying off.

But this was no normal day, and Ali was worried it wasn't really going to be fun, either. The past two months had taken an immeasurable toll on her husband – his mental health was in shreds, if she was honest, and there was a sense of bone-deep exhaustion weighing down his features most days – and today was going to be a hard one. It was the first awards do Dec had attended without Ant in 5 years, and only the second in their entire career; the last time had been a TRIC awards ceremony when Ant was ill and couldn't make it. That had been an odd enough experience for Dec, even though he had made light of it at the time. If she was honest, Ali was feeling quite trepidatious about how Dec would cope with everything today. Dec's depression had improved slightly since Ant had been released from hospital, but they still only saw each other very infrequently, as Ant was busy moving house and working hard to turn his life around. Ali knew the absence of his best friend from his life was extremely difficult to handle for Dec, who was so dependent on Ant for his own happiness. But Dec had been trying to carry on without Ant, and had more than succeeded in his solo endeavors on the professional front....Perhaps not so much on a personal level. She knew there were times when, no matter how hard she tried, she would never be an adequate substitute for Ant, and she accepted that. The relationship the two men shared was unlike any she had ever seen before, and she doubted she would ever come across a pair as loyal and devoted to each other as they were. So this was a massive step for Dec today, walking the red carpet at the BAFTAs without his beloved partner by his side. Ali knew Dec was extremely grateful to her for accompanying him today – in fact, he had admitted to her that he never would have even considered going if she hadn't wanted to come with him. But he felt obligated to go, since Takeaway and BGT were nominated in the Entertainment Programme category, and he believed he owed it to their teams to be there just in case one of the shows won. Not only that, but he felt a sense of responsibility to represent the Ant and Dec "brand," making sure everyone in the TV industry didn't forget who Ant and Dec were – and if there was one thing Dec was doing everything in his power to ensure, it was that no one forgot who his Ant was. So even though she knew Dec didn't actually want to go, here they were, getting ready to attend the 2018 BAFTAs.

Dec had looked down at the floor, studying his feet intently, as soon as Ali questioned his wellbeing. The truth was, he wasn't okay – was so far from being okay he couldn't even remember what being okay felt like anymore – but he knew he had to do this, he couldn't let the side down. After a brief battle with his conscience, Dec decided the only way to get through today was to lie, so he pasted a bright, fake smile on his face and answered he was fine, just thinking about things. He supposed distraction techniques might work to get Ali off his back – he knew she meant well, and he appreciated her concern, but sometimes she just made things worse – so complimented her dress again before placing a gentle kiss on the rounded bump of her abdomen where their child was growing. "Still can't believe I'm going to be a dad," he murmured, taking Ali's hand in his own as they heard the honk of a car horn outside, indicating their ride had arrived. Helping Ali down their front steps and into the car, Dec sighed resignedly as he climbed in beside her. This was going to be a long day.

The drive had been spent in silence, Dec staring vacantly out the window while fidgeting almost constantly, unable to keep still as the apprehension over what he would face today got the better of him. Ali had given up on trying to get his attention after the first 15 minutes, and had captured one of his restless hands in her own – trying to provide some small form of comfort – resigning herself to scrolling through her Facebook feed on her phone before quickly getting bored of that and answering some work emails instead. But now they had arrived at the red carpet, and Dec was wearing a slightly panicky expression as he smoothed down his tux and got ready to exit their vehicle. "Dec, I'm right here, love, look at me," Ali's soothing voice broke through the protective barriers Dec was frantically building around himself, making him turn and notice his wife again for the first time since they left their house. Ali smiled sadly at him as his eyes found hers and a frightened croak left his mouth, "What if we actually win something? What do I do?"

"Love, we already talked about this, remember? You can't not go on stage with the team, but just stay at the back – you don't have to do the speech if you don't want to." Awkwardly sliding across the seat towards her husband, Ali gave him a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Go on, then, get out – I didn't glam myself up just to sit in the back of a car all afternoon!" Ali teased gently, giving Dec one last reassuring squeeze before nudging him towards the door. Taking a deep breath, Dec pulled himself together and tugged the door handle. As it slid open automatically, Dec forced a smile onto his face before holding out a hand to Ali to help her exit safely with dignity intact – he had never understood how she could walk with those mile-long stiletto heels on, and now with being pregnant, it was rather trickier for her to get around in them. Ali molded herself to Dec's side, clutching his hand tightly, as they sidled through the crowd together, following Ant and Dec's PR manager, Simon Jones, to the area swarming with photographers and reporters. She could feel the tremble in Dec's palm pressed against hers, the tension increasing in his body with each step closer towards what looked like his worst nightmare in his current state. They quickly decided Dec would get the solo photos out of the way first, so he stepped up in front of the photo backdrops bravely, face wearing his best fake smile, as questions were shouted at him from all sides.

"Where's Ant?"

"Isn't Ant with you?"

"No Ant today?"

The repeated questions were like stabs in Dec's heart and mind, but he clung desperately to that fake smile – just keep smiling, he reminded himself, as the walls closed in on him – trying for a cheery, "Just me!" It sounded rather choked, but he thought he'd pulled it off quite nicely. The nonchalant approach, that's what he'd try for. Just keep pretending everything was fine, and maybe it would be.

Who was he kidding? As the sea of cameras flashed, shouts ringing out from every direction as photographers tried to catch his attention, Dec could feel his smile slipping slightly, the emptiness inside him caused by the draught down his right side slowly swallowing him whole. Thankfully, Simon Jones was a good friend as well as a valued member of their team, and noticed things were all getting a bit much for Dec. Calling an end to the solo session, he motioned for Dec to come get Ali, knowing it would help to have someone standing alongside him, even if it wasn't the person he was obviously missing. Feeling the tension in his chest lessen a tiny bit, Dec accidentally let his mask slip for a moment as he moved back into his previous spot, this time with Ali by his side. Ali gave his hand a light squeeze, reminding him to lift his gaze from the ground and face the cameras, as the flashes and shouts began yet again. Finally, the photographers had had their fill, and a relieved Dec and Ali were allowed to move along, gradually making their way towards the venue.

This was the longest day ever, Dec thought to himself, seated on his wife's right as endless awards were handed out in celebration of the great and good of British television. According to the program, there were only two more awards to go before the Entertainment Programme was up. Nervous tension was yet again beginning to build, as his stomach did flips and his mouth went dry. It was bizarre, but he found himself hoping that neither of their shows won. If they didn't win, he could just keep sitting here, he reasoned with himself – and that meant no going up on stage where everyone could stare at him, watch his every move. But of course he felt guilty for thinking that – their teams worked incredibly hard and were more than deserving of a BAFTA accolade. Self-preservation instincts trumped the need for their teams to gain well-deserved recognition, however, and Dec could feel himself slumping down into his seat, the need to disappear from the room slowly suffocating him.

It had been one heck of a stressful day so far – trying to mingle with his peers had been hard work for Dec. For the most part, people were being lovely to him, but very few of them seemed to know how to act around him, as if afraid to say the wrong thing. Thank heavens for the baby on the way – that was the only reliable topic of conversation everyone could turn to, and that was basically all Dec had talked about the entire afternoon. And make no mistake about it, it was a topic Dec greatly enjoyed – it was his baby, after all – but an entire afternoon of answering the same repetitive questions over and over and over again was rather maddening. Both he and Ali had been more than relieved when it was finally time for the awards ceremony to begin – Dec because he was emotionally exhausted from having to act cheerful for so long, and Ali because her back ached and she really wanted to sit down. But now came the really hard part....Oh, Dec just wanted to slink under his seat and crawl unnoticed out of the room. He really didn't want to be here.

"The BAFTA for Entertainment Programme goes to...." Oh, please, please, please let it be one of the other two shows, not ours, Dec pleaded internally, his heart going into overdrive.

"...Britain's Got Talent!"

His heart sinking like an anchor dropped in the sea, Dec pasted what he hoped looked like an excited grin on his face as he forced himself to stand up with the rest of the cast and crew. Ali gave him an encouraging smile, and then he turned to the adjacent row of seats where Alesha Dixon, Amanda Holden, and the production team were seated. Alesha shot him a sympathetic look before hugging him tight. Dec turned around to wave at the SNT team, who looked a bit disappointed but grinned back anyway, before Dec found himself face to face with their lovely executive producer, Amelia Brown. After sharing a warm embrace, Amelia and the rest of the team started to head onto the stage, while Dec found himself still standing in the aisle awkwardly as everyone else filed past. Oh, goodness, what do I do now? Dec was frozen in limbo, paralyzed by his emotions. He was shaken from his torpor by one of the male members of the team pulling him in for a quick hug before motioning for him to go up the stairs. Even though his mind was screaming at him to run away, Dec forced his unwilling feet up onto the stage. However, after greeting the award presenters, Clare Balding and Mo Farah, Dec didn't know what to do with himself. He was lost, drifting in a sea of loneliness and pain. Memory after memory of being up on this stage with Ant flooded his mind, bringing a lump to his throat and a tightness to his chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Hide. That's what he needed to do. He couldn't let other people see him like this. Stepping behind the other taller members of the team – Dec had never been so thankful for being short – he tried to blend in, hoping no one would notice.

No such luck. Within 30 seconds, Amanda turned to giggle at him, finding it quite funny that he was hiding away, resulting in one of the men in front of him realizing Dec was obscured from view. The man stepped aside, leaving Dec exposed front and center, despite his desperate plea through the gritted teeth of a fake smile for continued cover – explaining that this would be televised and he really didn't want to be visible.

Oh, good. Amelia had finished her speech already – surely that meant they could leave the stage? Groaning internally, Dec watched in silent horror as the most senior member of the team stepped up to the podium and began a long, rambling speech. With nowhere to hide from the hundreds of pairs of eyes and several video cameras, Dec felt extremely vulnerable as emotions threatened to overwhelm him again. A member of the team who was close to the boys was now standing next to Dec, and began talking to him in hushed tones. Dec tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but found it difficult to focus, the pain in his chest sharpening as the acceptance speeches he and Ant had given on this very stage rang through his ears. The echo of Ant's voice in his mind and the feel of Ant's arm going around his shoulders in a side hug swamped his senses. Tears springing to his eyes, Dec's tongue poked out of his mouth unconsciously as he repeatedly licked his lips and worried at his lower lip with his teeth. He had to keep it together, he couldn't just lose it on stage like this. That's when he saw it: one of the cameras was focused on the group on stage, rather than on the man currently speaking. Turning to the friend beside him, Dec muttered a slightly annoyed, "Told you," while nodding towards the camera.

'Seriously, just wrap it up, man!' Dec's mind shouted at the man at the podium. He was desperate to get off stage, away from the prying eyes of everyone – it felt like everyone was staring at him, studying him, pitying him, and he just couldn't take it anymore. FINALLY! The man behind the podium signed off on his interminable speech, and the team began moving off stage, Dec hurrying alongside on rubbery legs.

Now came the photocall and the press room. Dec had discussed this with both nominated teams beforehand in case they happened to win the award, and had reluctantly agreed to attend the photocall, but vehemently refused to have anything to do with the press room interviews. He knew what every single question would be about, and there was absolutely no way he would ever be able to get through that without breaking down completely. Steeling himself, Dec plastered a grin onto his face as he formed a line with the rest of the team. Multitudinous photos and a few forced laughs later, Dec was finally set free from what he had privately deemed the official BAFTA torture chamber, and quickly vanished as the rest of the team headed over to the press room.

Rather than making his way back to Ali, who was still seated in the audience, Dec walked swiftly towards the men's room. He needed a few minutes of solitude, needed to pull himself together in order to get through the rest of the night. Relieved to have been able to sneak in without running into anyone he knew, Dec slunk into one of the empty stalls and locked the door securely behind him. Leaning back against the door, Dec let out a deep sigh. What had it come to, eh? Hiding in the restroom because he couldn't control his emotions. "Why, Ant, why?" Dec whispered despairingly, tears coming unbidden to his eyes and spilling over his lashes. Faster and faster they came, until Dec found himself shaking uncontrollably as he tried – and failed – to stem the flow of emotions. It just felt so wrong to be here without Ant, everything was wrong, nothing was right anymore, he just couldn't....

"Dec, is that you?" A concerned voice drifted through the room, dimly reaching Dec's ears over the harsh, rhythmic rattling of the restroom fans....Wait a minute, those weren't fans...that was his own ragged breathing. Dec tried to pull himself together, berating himself for having lost control in a public place where anyone could hear him. 'That could be a reporter out there,' Dec's frenzied mind chanted as he hurriedly grabbed a couple of pieces of toilet tissue and tried to clean up his face, his movements stilling as the voice rang out again, "Dec? I know that's you in there. Are you okay?" He knew that voice, it was someone he knew very well...Oh, Saul! As he finally recognized the voice to be that of Saul Fearnley, a producer on Saturday Night Takeaway and a good friend to both him and Ant, Dec relaxed. Saul was someone he knew he could trust, who wouldn't sell the story to the press or tease him about crying in the toilet. Saul was someone who would understand. Shakily unlocking the door, Dec peeked out, making sure the coast was clear before emerging from the stall. Saul wordlessly pulled him into a secure hug, and that nearly set Dec off again. "Ali was getting worried about you, mate, and obviously it's the gent's – she can't just come walking in here – so she sent me to check for you," Saul explained, watching Dec as he went over to the sink and tried to wash away the evidence of his tears.

"Was I gone that long?" Dec asked tremulously, voice wobbly and a bit croaky from all his crying. He had no idea how long he had been in that stall; it didn't feel that long, but if Ali had been getting worried, it must have been long enough. "Well, the BGT gang were in the press room for 10 minutes, and they got back about 20 minutes ago, so...." Saul's kind voice trailed off, unwilling to point out the obvious that Dec had – apparently – been crying in the gent's for over half an hour. Saul felt his heart clench in pity for the man in front of him, as Dec – having cleaned up his face as best he could – met his gaze with tortured, pain-filled eyes. "I just miss him so much, Saul," Dec whispered, tears glistening in his eyes, before brushing past the producer and exiting the room. Biting his lip as a lump formed in his own throat, Saul shook his head sadly, and followed Dec back to the crowded Royal Festival Hall auditorium.

Dec just sort of zoned out for the rest of the awards ceremony, clapping when Ali clapped, and forcing a smile when she smiled. He wanted nothing more than to just go home when the last award had been presented, but no, he had to go to the after party. The only way he was going to get through this was to drink – not a shameful amount, he knew better than to do that after what happened with Ant, but enough to make him not care about everyone's curious stares and the way some hushed conversations suddenly stopped whenever he got close to the people having them. Yes, he was going to get drunk. He knew Ali would look after him, make sure he stopped when he'd had enough. He just hoped the alcohol would help to numb the pain, stop him feeling a draft down his right side. He doubted it would, but it was worth a try anyway.

Needless to say, Ali had her hands full with Dec that night, managing to keep him from drinking too much – he was just a bit more than tipsy, really – and eventually convincing him to leave with the excuse that she was exhausted (she'd managed to keep her heels on all night – she was proud of herself!) and needed to go home and rest. Surprisingly enough, he had agreed readily, and nearly pulled her out the door in his haste to get to their car. She'd gotten the feeling he wasn't actually enjoying himself – was maybe just drinking in order to cope with having to socialize with his peers – but hadn't realized just how much he didn't want to be there. The car ride home was mostly silent, husband and wife lost in their own thoughts as Dec leaned into his wife's side, their hands intertwined. Not much was said once they reached home, either, each quietly changing into their nightclothes before turning in for the night (or early morning, as it was now). Thus, Ali was surprised when, after they shared a goodnight kiss, Dec's raw voice cut through the hush, "I'm sorry I disappeared on you, Al, it just all got on top of me. I had to get away for a bit. I didn't mean to worry you." Ali reopened her eyes to see Dec only a few inches from her face, eyes brimming with tears. "I know, love, I know," Ali reassured, unsurprised when she suddenly found herself with an armful of crying husband, his silent tears wetting her nightie. After a while, Dec cried himself to sleep, with Ali soon following him, but not until after she had shed a few tears herself over her husband's abject misery. Would things ever get better?

[decandantfics]

Stronger Together - Only Love

A/N - This was a tough story to write - I really had to work at it, so I hope it's okay! Many, many thanks go to Kashariak for the amazing prompt for this story. She really does have the most fantastic ideas, and if you've never checked out her stories, I urge you to go there now (or just as soon as you've finished reading this!). So thank you, and I hope I did your idea justice! ❤

'5...[A nervous gulp]...4...[Twitching fingers]...3...[Uneasy shifting from foot to foot]...2...[A visible shiver down his spine]...1...[A full-body flinch]...Roll the titles!' Standing backstage together, Ant and Dec listened tensely to the countdown to the first live semi-final of Britain's Got Talent 2019. Or rather, Ant listened while Dec observed him, his mind completely zoning out of the countdown as he noted his friend's obvious anxiety. They had nearly two minutes left before they went live to the nation together for the first time in over a year, and both boys were understandably very nervous, especially as the show opener was hardly a walk in the park for them. But Dec was more concerned about Ant at the moment than the fact that they had to perform an intricate song and dance routine starting in about a minute and a half. Ant was now chewing on his lip, his right foot tapping out an irregular staccato beat on the floor. "Ant, look at me," Dec nudged Ant's elbow, jostling him out of his panicked train of thought. As Ant's worried, slightly frantic eyes met his own, Dec let out a little sigh and squeezed Ant's arm before pulling him in for a hug. Their cheeks pressed up against each other, Dec took the opportunity to whisper into Ant's ear, for only him to hear, "I believe in you, and so does everyone else. We all want you back, and you know it. And if you need me, I'll be right there beside you. It's going to be great; I can't wait to be back up there with you!" Pep talk finished, Dec gave Ant one final reassuring pat on the back, reclaiming his place on Ant's left side while their countdown to going live began.

An appreciative smile lighting his eyes, Ant took a deep breath as he and Dec stepped up to their mark in perfect sync. Maybe this was going to be all right, Ant thought to himself, glancing again at Dec who had now switched into professional mode....He seemed different somehow to how he used to be before a show. They both always went quiet in the minutes before a live show started, but Dec would always still be up for cracking a joke, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Now he looked frighteningly serious, a moment of extreme vulnerability showing on his face before a flinty mask of stoic resilience covered it, almost like he was gearing up for battle. Was this what Declan Donnelly, the solo performer, looked like? Ant ran out of time to ponder this sudden change in his friend as the music to their routine blared through their headsets. Feeling an arm wrap around his lower back for a brief moment, Ant turned his head to see Dec giving him a tight, but encouraging, grin. They were now mere seconds away from going live, and the butterflies in both men's stomachs were going wild as they cleared their throats one last time before their microphones switched on. Minds now fully focused on the task at hand, the boys began the routine, striding briskly 'round the corner, Dec slightly in front of Ant: 'All on one show, ready to go, live on BGT!'

Entering the theatre to rapturous applause from the audience, Ant and Dec were officially back, interacting with the crowd as they made their way down towards the stage. Dec wore a broad smile, a light in his eyes that hadn't been seen on live telly since March 2018, while Ant looked more nervous, his intense concentration on remembering the song's lyrics and choreography evidenced in his tense features. Ant was beginning to enjoy himself, however – man, had he missed doing live telly – and was soaking it all in, savoring the buzz that came with their job. It was all going really well he thought, until they got to the bit with the judges. He and Dec were each supposed to pull a pair of ladies' knickers out from behind each of the female judges, pretending to steal Alesha and Amanda's underwear before tossing the undergarments behind them. It all went a bit pear-shaped for Ant at this point, as his nerves had increased his clumsiness substantially, resulting in him completely missing the pair of underwear draped over the back of Alesha's chair and pulling up nothing but air in his closed fist. His heart stopping for a moment, Ant raised his gaze to the camera – had everyone watching at home seen his blunder, were they now laughing at him, making jokes about him being uncoordinated because he was a "druggie drink driver" (a cruelly unfair description of himself that he had seen so many times on social media that it was now deeply ingrained in his mind)? 'Stop it!' Ant scolded himself, realizing that his moment of tortured panic had cost him a second of time as he was now slightly out of sync with Dec. Recovering quickly, Ant cleared his mind of anything but the task at hand as he and Dec leapt off of the judge's platform and skipped over to the stairs leading to the Hammersmith Apollo's stage. Despite a judge's buzzer ringing out unexpectedly, neither man flinched, carrying on with the routine as if nothing had happened. Ah, here came their favorite bit of the piece – 'It's...Good...Ti-...ming!' Now back in perfect sync, the boys jogged onto the stage and up onto the set where the backing choir were standing.

'Almost there now,' Ant thought gleefully, more than relieved to be nearly finished with the nerve-wracking routine. Oh. What the heck was his next line?! Panic taking hold of his mind, Ant froze momentarily, his horrified gaze meeting Dec's as his eyes told Dec everything he needed to know – it was time to ride to his friend's rescue. Thankfully, Dec remembered the next line, but because of that brief moment during which Ant had silently communicated his need for assistance, Dec had to cut the lyric short: 'Two hundred and fifty thou-...to win before the final bow,' – Ant's voice finally rejoining Dec's on the last two words as Dec focused his full attention on Ant. Their gazes met for a moment as they unconsciously stepped towards the other, Ant making a half-grab for Dec's mic as his frenzied mind tried to remember if the next line was his or Dec's, the break in the flow of their alternating lines having brought his thought process to a screeching halt. Dec was now standing slightly in front of Ant, pressed up against his arm in what Dec hoped was an inconspicuous show of support. The last thing he wanted to do was further his friend's embarrassment and heighten his panic by drawing attention to his blunder. Dec could sense Ant was still unsure as to the next line, so angled his body in towards Ant, subtly nudging Ant's arm with his elbow as he half held his microphone in front of Ant, indicating it was his turn. And just like that, everything was fine again, the remainder of the lyrics flowing back into Ant's mind, Dec's calm handling of the situation and discreet, yet reassuring, actions having alleviated Ant's internal distress and allowed him to continue on as if nothing had happened. He could feel Dec's supportive gaze on him again as they entered the final stages of the performance. Having been boosted up onto the glittery "BGT" prop, the boys were hoisted into the air as they sang the closing phrase: 'Live on B..G..T!'

Dec was now full-on staring at Ant, a massive grin on his face – they'd done it, they'd made it through, and Ant had been amazing! Oh, it was so, so good to not be alone on stage anymore. Last year's live shows had been absolutely horrific, each day a constant reminder of the man he was so desperately missing. But that was in the past now, Dec reminded himself. He had Ant back, and he fully intended to enjoy every second of this first show back with his best friend.

Ahh, that was better. Ant was now wearing a relieved grin as they both held onto that last note for as long as they could. He was clearly feeling a lot better about things now that that nightmare of an opener was out of the way. I mean, seriously, what a way to return to live telly after over a year away! The nearly 4,000-strong audience was giving them a standing ovation, their whistles and cheers deafening. Right, it was time to get this show on the road! Ant's raspy voice rang out, "Well, hello, and welcome to the first live semi-final of Britain's Got Talent!" And just like that, they were off, the non-stop rush of a live TV show sweeping them along with it. Perhaps the opener could have gone a little bit better, but Dec certainly didn't care – all that mattered was that he had his friend standing next to him, happy and healthy. His dream had come true.

~~~

The first semi-final of BGT 2019 had been a raging success. Unlike the previous year's opening show, no technical difficulties – or thunderstorms – had plagued them, everything running as smoothly as it possibly could on this type of crazy variety show. An exhausted Ant and Dec were now seated in the back of their people carrier, lost in their own thoughts. Dec was still on a high – he couldn't remember the last time he'd had that much fun during a BGT live show – and felt like a massive weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He had his best friend, his beloved partner-in-crime, back, and he could not be happier. It really sort of felt like everything had returned to normal – even being in the back of the car together felt like a special treat for Dec, who had hated the long, lonely car rides he'd had to endure throughout most of 2018.

Their loyal driver, Joe, had been forced to perfect a look of impassive ignorance over the past year – the days when muffled sobs and pain-filled, heavy sighs were heard from the back far outnumbering the instances in which Dec seemed cheerful – after Dec had made it clear that what he did in the back of the car was his business and his alone. Joe had served as Ant and Dec's driver for so long that he was considered a good friend, and he held a deep respect and affection for the men he had grown to know so well. He had, on one of Dec's particularly dark days, felt the need to speak up – Dec had been crying solidly for 30 minutes, and Joe was, quite frankly, getting very concerned. He had asked if Dec was all right – maybe talking about it would help? – but was hurt when Dec had hurriedly wiped his face, suppressing the rising sobs, and told him that he was completely fine, thank you very much, and please just drive. So for Dec, after all the misery he had suffered in the back of this car, it felt like a new experience to actually be enjoying car rides again. He loved sharing a car with Ant – well, except for those smelly farts, he reminded himself with a wry smile – as it was a space where they could just relax and enjoy long chats with no fear of outsiders listening in or interrupting their solitude with requests for autographs and selfies. Yes, everything was pretty much back to normal, and Dec felt like he was on top of the world.

However, he was slightly puzzled, and – if he was honest – rather concerned by Ant's marked silence after they came off stage tonight. Ant had been unusually quiet after the show – he would often be a bit of a chatterbox while coming off the buzz of performing live, but tonight, he had seemed oddly withdrawn, almost to the point of being short with Dec every time his friend tried to start a conversation. The worry that something was wrong, that Ant was hiding something, had sharpened with each rebuff of Dec's friendly advances. Not much could cloud Dec's world right now, to be honest – tonight had been everything he had dreamt of, desperately held onto, at his darkest moments last year – but concern for his friend had now sharpened into a pointed stick, prodding viciously at his heart and mind that wanted nothing more than to be able to just bask in cheery contentment for once. True happiness had been a rare commodity for Dec last year, so the genuine joie de vivre radiating through him tonight felt foreign but oh-so-good. But seriously, what was wrong with Ant?

Ant and Dec were seated on opposite ends of the bench seat – the right way 'round, of course – making it relatively easy for Ant to completely avoid Dec's concerned eyes that were currently searching for his gaze. Dec just couldn't bear the unnatural tension hanging in the air between him and Ant any longer. They should be happy, celebrating the success of their first live show back together! Reaching out a hand, Dec tapped Ant's shoulder lightly while saying his name, expecting him to at least acknowledge his touch or voice in some form or another. When Ant merely grunted and then continued to completely ignore him, Dec unbuckled his seat belt and slid over into the middle seat, now sat right next to Ant, their arms pressed up against each other. "Right, you gonna tell me what's going on? Remember what we promised, no more secrets," Dec's soft, but mildly sharp, voice broke the silence. Internally, Dec was still crippled by worry for his friend, even though Ant seemed to be in a much better place mentally and physically. He was still incredibly hurt by Ant keeping him in the dark about everything for so long, and the fact that his friend had hidden so much from him scared him. His biggest fear was that Ant would shut him out again, that maybe he was just pretending to be okay because he knew how much Dec wanted him back. Dec couldn't bear to lose Ant again, it would break him. But if Ant wasn't coping well with being back, wasn't enjoying it, Dec was still more than prepared to give everything up for him if that was what it took for him to be happy again. Forget being on the telly, all he wanted was to have his friend back. Each moment of continued silence was like a pin prick in Dec's mind, worry now surging in his gut as his mind went into panicked overdrive, fearing the worst.

"How the bloody hell did you do it?!" Ant blurted out suddenly, eyes still stubbornly focused outside the window, the rigidity of his posture indicating the intensity of the emotions raging within him. Okay, that wasn't what Dec had been expecting, he had to admit. What was Ant on about? "What do you mean? How did I do what?" Dec questioned in a puzzled voice, hand coming to rest on Ant's arm in an attempt to turn his attention away from the decidedly boring – and darkened – scenery rushing past the window.

Ant finally met Dec's eyes, a strange sort of mixture of guilt and pain swirling in his green irises. "I just don't know how you did it, man," Ant's Geordie accent thickened with raw emotion as he continued, "The only reason I got through that opener tonight was because of you. I ballsed it up enough as it was, but I couldn't have made it through without you there." Voice now sounding decidedly teary, "You were the only reason I had the courage to go out on stage tonight. And it just got me thinking: how the hell did you do all of that last year on your own? I was terrified tonight, man. You're the only thing that kept me grounded, and I know it's always been the same for you – we've always relied on each other for stuff. Yet everyone keeps telling me what an amazing job you did on your own, how strong you were. How did you do it?!"

Dec had sat in stunned silence throughout Ant's emotional outburst – mouth hanging open – but now forced his lips to move. "I honestly don't know, Ant. I didn't really have a choice; I just had to get through it as best I could."

Both men winced at Dec's quiet reply, the interior of the van now charged with heavy emotions – the success of tonight's show long forgotten. A moment of silence followed Dec's response, each lost in his own dark, brooding thoughts.

"But why, Dec?" Ant's pained voice cut through Dec's heart like a knife, "I know we have the contract with ITV and all, but you could have said no, could have refused to do it, like. Everyone at ITV made it clear we'd always have a job to come back to when I was ready...You suffered, Declan, and don't try to deny it, 'cause I know it's true. I never would have agreed to the shows going ahead if I'd known what it would do to you."

"Don't be silly, Ant, you know ITV would have been furious if I'd forced them to cancel two of their biggest shows. It never would have ended well...." What Ant didn't know couldn't hurt him, Dec reminded himself, grateful for the murky lighting in the car that shielded his own facial expression from scrutiny by Ant. Dec repressed a shudder as a particularly dark memory flooded his mind. He had been forced to fight for Ant when a few of the less-than-pleased ITV bosses threatened to write Ant out of their joint contract, while at the same time magnanimously offering Dec a lucrative solo contract. However, those same haughty ITV executives had paled in the face of Dec's righteous fury and had soon found themselves eating their own words when Dec had unleashed a tempestuous tirade on them, ultimately leaving them with a decision to make: did they want Ant and Dec, or did they want neither of them? His voice hoarse from shouting so much, Dec had eventually marched out of the meeting room that day, head held high. He had saved Ant's job.

"But you've changed, you should have seen yourself tonight just before we went on..." Ant had been bothered by the transformation in Dec's normally fairly unflappable demeanor just before they went live that evening. Dec would get terribly nervous before shows, especially the first of a series – they both did – but this was something entirely different. And the slight trembling of Dec's hands hadn't gone unnoticed, either. It was as if a cloud had come over Dec's countenance in those few seconds before their opening routine began, making him look years older and almost sort of weary. Very unlike the Dec of past years who would be quietly nervous but visibly excited about the show to come. And Ant just hadn't been able to get that mental picture of Dec out of his head tonight after the show had ended and it was just the two of them again, in their shared dressing room. The Dec after the show was the one he knew – happy, bouncy, like an overexcited little puppy – and that had reassured him to a certain extent, but Ant had found himself becoming obsessed with trying to imagine what it had been like for Dec to go solo last year. And of course he was blaming himself for the worrying change he had noticed in Dec, the guilt over what he'd put his friend through choking him and making him withdraw into himself. He felt awful about snapping at Dec every time he tried to make casual conversation, and he knew it was making Dec anxious, but that's just how Ant was – guilt and worry made him grumpy, and once his mind took hold of something like this, it was very difficult to turn it off.

"No, let me finish!" Dec interrupted, not wanting to hear where Ant was going with that – he knew he had suffered a painful flashback to last year's first semi-final just before they went live tonight, and he had been really, really hoping Ant hadn't noticed. "Don't you see, Ant? I did it all for you, for us! The only thing that kept me going last year was you. I was saving our career, making sure you had something to come back to when you were ready. You want to know how I did it last year? Yeah, the public's support helped, but the only reason I was able to carry on was because I knew you wanted to come back and I wanted you back. Nothing of what I did last year was for ITV or anyone else – I did it all for you." Dec's eyes were fused with Ant's throughout, pleading with him to understand his reasoning behind going solo, why it was necessary to endure the endless stress and exhaustion of the past year.

"But how did you cope? 'Cause I never could, without you." Those eleven little words hung in the air, Ant's hushed voice holding a sort of odd trepidation.

"I didn't." The raw honesty in Dec's quiet reply was soul shattering, but both men had gotten far too used to the sting of truth over the past 12 months than to be deterred from tough conversations by the pain they caused.

Ant now sounded broken, self-loathing evident in every word he uttered. "I'm such a failure, Dec. I failed you, I broke our promise to always be there for you, I hurt you, Dec, and I can never forgive myself for that. I can't even hold myself together long enough to get through one song without mucking it up, and yet there you are, holding the fort all by yourself because your idiotic best friend goes out and gets arrested for drink driving. Sometimes I think you were right, maybe you would be better off without me."

The last sentence was nothing but a broken whisper, but it was like a spear being thrust straight through Dec's heart. In a moment of misguided anger in the immediate aftermath of Ant's arrest, Dec had uttered those words to Ant, and he had regretted them ever since. Dec had always had issues with controlling his temper, and when he was stressed, he had even more difficulty in reining it in. Even though he'd tried really hard to control the fury he was feeling at Ant's reckless actions, he had blown up at Ant the first time they met after the crash, and had said some things that still haunted him in his nightmares. At the time, Ant had seemed resigned to accepting Dec's anger, clearly feeling he deserved all of Dec's incandescent rage, but it had hurt far more than he would ever admit. Even though he had only been a few sentences into his incensed rant, Dec had stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that Ant was in tears, seemingly coming to his senses at the sight of his closest friend sobbing brokenly because of what he had said. Dec had felt terrible, berating himself for what he'd done, and spent the rest of their limited time together holding Ant in his arms, repeatedly apologizing and reassuring Ant that he still loved him, and nothing would ever change that. He'd fix it for them, everything would be okay in the end, he'd make sure of that; just focus on getting better and don't worry about anything else. But the pain that stung at Dec's heart every time he remembered those awful words and accusations he'd hurled at Ant was still as strong as it had been the day of his outburst. So to hear eight of the most hurtful words he had ever uttered - "Maybe I would be better off without you!" – being thrown back in his face with such utter conviction was like having red hot coals shoved into his heart and mind.

"Ant, you know that's not true," Dec's wavering, pained voice became audible as he pressed himself even closer to Ant's side, desperate to provide his hurting friend with some form of comfort, but unable to meet his burning gaze, the shame of what he'd said causing him to shrivel up inside. "What I said that day, none of that was true, I wasn't thinking straight. It was me being an idiot, unable to control me temper. I can't tell you how sorry I am for what I said – I didn't mean any of it, you have to believe that." His raw voice now gained strength as he sought to convince his friend of the honesty of his words, "Yes, I was angry about what you'd done - I couldn't believe you'd ever be that irresponsible, putting others at risk like that. But I was angry at meself because I hadn't seen how much you were hurting. I should have realized, I should have known. I could have lost you – you could have died in that crash, Ant. I could have lost the one person in my life I can't live without. And that scared me to death." Voice now cracking with emotion, Dec continued, "I was so furious with meself. I went home and I cried, Ant – I'd gone and hurt you when you were already in such a dark place. I've never forgiven myself for that." Tears streamed down Dec's face as he bared his soul to his friend. "I've only ever wanted to work with you, Ant, so to think that you might never be able to come back – that we couldn't come back – terrified me. My anger wasn't about you, it was about me, and I took it out on you. I said I would give everything up if you could just be happy again, and I still mean that. I meant every word of it, Ant. I'm not gonna lie, the past year hasn't been easy, but like I told you in rehearsals today, it was all worth it. Tonight was the happiest I've been in a long time, and you are the reason for that."

Quiet sniffles were now emanating from Ant as he took in everything Dec had said, the guilt that had overwhelmed him earlier slowly dissipating, but his friend wasn't quite finished yet. "Without you, I felt vulnerable on stage – I hated every second of every show I did without you last year. But I had a dream, a glimmer of hope that gave me something to hold onto. And that dream came true tonight, Ant. You say you weren't there for me, but that's not really true. Everything I did last year was to make tonight happen – you were my strength, my only hope, through it all. I made a promise to you that everything would be okay, and by holding the fort while you were away I was making good on that promise. You were brilliant tonight, mate - I'm so proud of you! - and I couldn't have done it without you. So never say I'd be better off without you ever again, because we both know that's not true. All right?" Finally daring to look at each other again, tears shone in both men's eyes as the flame of the deep bond they shared blazed anew, setting their hearts alight. As one, they uttered three little words that could never truly express the depth of what they felt for each other:

"I love you."

[decandantfics]

Safe Haven - You are My Strength

The date was 30 March, 2019. The time, 3:30am. All was quiet in the houses of a stately Chiswick street. At least, it was until 3:31am. In one particular home, a couple lay spooned together, the man wrapped around the woman as quiet snores escaped his mouth. A small Dachshund lay curled up on a pillow just behind the man's head, and at first glance, the sausage dog appeared to be asleep. If you were to look more closely, you would realize that the dog's eyes were, in fact, open, trained worriedly on his master. On the outside, the man appeared to be slumbering peacefully. But that illusion was cruelly broken as he awoke with a shout, startling his wife as she shot out of his arms in shock. For his part, the little dog had scrambled to his feet at his master's shout, and was now whining anxiously as he took in the scene in front of him. The man had started sobbing and shaking within moments of waking, and was now being held securely by his wife. She was trying her very best to comfort and reassure him – something she'd gotten quite good at over the past 12 ½ months – while worriedly straining her ears for any signs of their nearly 7-month old baby having been disturbed by the commotion. Unfortunately for her – and her husband – a loud wailing was soon crackling through the baby monitor, drowning out the quiet sobs that still wrenched themselves out of the man's chest. The woman was now left with a serious dilemma – both her husband and her child needed her attention right at that very moment, and she couldn't bear to leave one in favor of the other. As her husband became more aware of his surroundings, he seemed to realize that there was another distressed person in the home, just a room away. Shoulders still shuddering with suppressed sobs, the man wearily pushed himself up on his elbow while muttering a broken, "I'm sorry," to his wife. Despite her vehement protests that she could go, the man simply shook his head and slid out of bed, shoulders slumped and eyes still filled with tears as he trudged out of the room to tend to his daughter's needs. The man was Declan Donnelly, and the woman Ali Astall Donnelly.

Ali's gaze followed her husband worriedly as the broken man moved past her and out of the room. Sighing, she knew exactly why her sleep had been interrupted tonight: the emotionally charged interview her husband and his best friend had given was being released in The Guardian later that morning. Dec had had a particularly tough time of it in the nights immediately prior to and especially following the interview – the wounds of the past year having been reopened as he was forced to relive what he had gone through. Dec had been so incredibly drained by the time he arrived home after the interview – deep lines of exhaustion and sadness marking his face in grim resemblance to how he had looked almost every single day in 2018 after his life had been turned upside down. He was so utterly exhausted that he'd not even been able to muster the energy to eat the dinner Ali'd prepared for him, instead curling up on their couch, his head on Ali's lap, falling into a deep but restless sleep while Ali ate her food in silence. There had been nightmares that night, too – far more than she cared to remember, in fact – resulting in both her and Dec looking and feeling like zombies by the following morning. And now the nightmares had returned again, although this time they were brought on by anxiety rather than by ripping the scabs off of his slowly healing mental and emotional sores. Ali was gently distracted from her thoughts by the sound of Dec quietly singing a lullaby to their child in a raw, trembling voice that still hiccupped occasionally with a broken off sob. The baby's cries had subsided as soon as her father had taken her into his arms, and it was obvious that, despite his current distress, his mere presence had lulled her into a contented silence. Ali smiled sadly – their daughter Isla was one of the few reasons her husband had actually made it through the past year without giving up hope and falling fully into the deep abyss of depression that had haunted him for so many months. If not for Isla, Ali might be faced with a very different reality today. Her husband's struggle with mental health had been very real over the past 12 months –and it had terrified her out of her wits on more than one occasion. He was slowly recovering now, due in no small part to the return to his life of his best friend of 30 years, Ant McPartlin. Dec hadn't wanted Ant to know how much he was struggling without his friend by his side, but Ant had seen right through him the very first time they met up after Ant was released from hospital. And that had been the best thing that ever happened to Dec. Ali had been trying desperately to get him to go see his psychotherapist, but even though he acknowledged he needed help, he couldn't seem to gather the courage to make an appointment. And forcing him to go was out of the question – if Declan Donnelly didn't want to do something, there was no arguing with him; and if you tried to force or trick him into doing something he didn't want to do, an angry explosion would knock you clean off your feet and stop you in your tracks. No, Dec was a very, very stubborn man, and if he had set his mind against something, there was nothing you could do to change that. Unless, of course, you happened to be Ant McPartlin.

As soon as Ant had caught on to the fact that Dec was in a really, really bad place mentally, he had given Dec a dressing down for ignoring his own needs, and had made an appointment for Dec, while Dec had apparently just sat there open-mouthed. And that was when the weekly – and sometimes bi-weekly, if he was having an especially tough time – therapy sessions had begun. Ant had had to threaten Dec over the phone the day of his first scheduled appointment in order to force him out of the relative safety of his home and into the psychotherapist's office. But after that first session, Dec had realized that the therapy sessions weren't as scary as they had seemed at the outset, and the long, extremely emotional conversations with the therapist actually helped a bit to organize the painful thoughts and feelings swirling in his psyche. Ali was so incredibly grateful to Ant for his insistence at helping her husband to take that first step towards trying to heal his fractured mind. Without Ant's assistance, she shuddered to think what might have happened....

Several minutes of silence had now passed – Dec's voice having stilled in response to Isla's relaxation in his arms as she fell back asleep. He should have been back in bed by now, though, and Ali was a little bit worried. Deciding to check on her husband, Ali stole across the landing to their daughter's room, a loving smile lighting her eyes as she took in the sight in front of her. Dec was fast asleep, reclining in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, clutching a snoozing Isla to his chest, a small, contented smile on both of their faces. Ali's heart swelled with affection for her little family, and she tiptoed out of the room, back to her bed to try for a couple more hours of sleep.

Later that morning, Dec and Ali found themselves in a battle of wills as they argued over who should take Rocky out for a walk. Dec was feeling incredibly vulnerable now that the interview had gone out to the nation, and wanted nothing to do with the outside world. There would be paparazzi lurking, he argued, and he couldn't bear to face their unwanted attention right now. In the end, Dec got his way, and Ali took their little dog out for a morning stroll while Dec looked after Isla. Ali understood, she got it, and didn't mind doing this small favor for her husband, even though she worried about what it meant for his damaged psyche. Her concern only deepened as, with each day that passed, they had the same conversation – Dec absolutely refusing to leave the house for even the simplest of things. It was on the fourth day of stubborn refusals from Dec that Ali finally put her foot down. Dec couldn't spend the rest of his life hiding away just because there might be paparazzi waiting for him out there – after all, he'd dealt with them almost daily for much of the past year, she reminded him, trying really hard to ignore the painful wince that comment produced as Dec was transported back to the horror of that year. Ali had eventually convinced Dec to take Rocky for his morning walk by placing his AirPods, Rocky's leash (she knew how difficult it was for Dec to ignore Rocky's pleading puppy eyes), and his phone and keys into his hands. The AirPods were what ultimately sold Dec on the idea of going outside, as their noise canceling would provide some solace in case of paparazzi ambushing him, drowning out their cries and the incessant clicking of the cameras. Normally, he would just listen to the sweet sounds of birdsong during his walks along the peaceful streets of Chiswick, but today, his favorite music playlist would – hopefully – provide him with the illusion of privacy that he so desperately needed to feel safe.

Dec had left the house about half an hour ago, and was actually enjoying his walk along a particularly secluded street – he had made some adjustments to his normal walking route, hoping to avoid any attention from either passersby or skulking paparazzi – when it happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Dec became aware of movement to his right, across the street. Paparazzi. In horror, Dec watched as their lips moved – clearly, they were shouting questions at him that he, mercifully, couldn't hear – and camera shutters flashed as they snapped photo after photo of his stricken face. The intense vulnerability Dec had been feeling since Saturday returned full force, causing him to slightly hunch his shoulders and pull his cap even further down over his eyes, trying desperately to hide. He glared at the paparazzi – how dare they ruin his walk! – but the anguish which he had squashed down for so long was returning rapidly, its push to the surface inevitable as it sucked him down, down, down into its deep pit of mental torment. His gaze was now pain-filled as he tried to shrink into the collar of his vest, his body curling in on itself in an attempt to protect him from the helplessness that came with his rising panic. He quickened his pace, desperate to get away from the flashing cameras that were eating away at him, leaving him feeling exposed as they captured him and laid bare his vulnerability. Powerless to do anything to ease his distress other than attempting to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible, Dec turned his face away from the cameras, his mouth grimacing as he blew out a tense breath. He was feeling more panicked by the second, his breaths quickening as his mind was clouded with an urgent sense of endangerment. Without thinking, his ever hastening feet took him in a direction opposite to his own home. A bit of an odd decision, given that one might think he was craving the safety offered behind the closed door and blinds of his mansion. But no, there was only one thing his agonized heart and mind needed right now, and he found himself walking numbly in its direction, not really aware of what he was doing.

Nearly two hours later, Dec was startled to find himself at the closed gate of a familiar-looking front garden. Wait, what? It was as if he was coming out of a trance, his mind puzzled by what it had done. Incredulously, Dec stared at the house in front of him – Ant's house – before checking his watch. Had he really just walked all the way here? Was it possible the panic in his mind had blacked out all thoughts of reason, instead relentlessly pushing him in the direction of the only succor to the pain he was suffering? Shaking his head dumbly, the sensation of something cutting into his palm caught his attention, and he opened his tight fist to find a leash, only to realize that a thoroughly tired out Rocky was panting next to him, tongue lolling out in exhaustion but tail wagging excitedly. The opening of the gate in front of him shook him out of his stupefied state, a familiar hand taking hold of his arm and gently pulling him behind the garden wall, away from the prying eyes of the world. Dec's wide-eyed gaze rose to meet Ant's concerned one, puzzlement still written all over his face. "Dec, what are you doing, man?" Ant's worried voice broke through the haze in Dec's mind as he stuttered out, "I...I...I don't know, Ant," continuing in bewilderment, "I guess I walked here?"

Ant was beyond troubled by Dec's obvious confusion and disorientation. This wasn't like his best mate at all, usually the less impulsive of the two of them, taking the time to think things through reasonably before making a decision. Ant had first become aware of Dec's presence outside his gate when Hurley started barking madly inside the house, wagging his tail in excitement as he stared out at his tiny best friend. A dark coil of worry had formed in Ant's abdomen when he had seen Dec standing outside his gate with Rocky, seemingly unaware of where he was or what he was doing. He hadn't been expecting Dec today, not that that mattered any – they would sometimes drop in on each other unannounced even now, despite the distance between each other's homes. He and Dec had been in contact over the past few days, and he was aware that Dec was struggling with the public's newfound knowledge of his own mental health struggles of the past year. But he hadn't realized it was quite this bad. Clearly, something bad must have happened to cause his friend to travel 8 miles on foot. Wrapping a warm arm around Dec's shoulders, Ant carefully guided him inside his house, removing his vest for him and unclipping Rocky from his lead as their two dogs held a happy reunion, Bumble and Milo watching for a moment before joining in on the fun. Dec still didn't seem with it, staring blankly into Ant's family room as if seeing it for the first time. "Shoes, Dec," Ant lightly reminded him, prompting Dec to startle slightly before nodding and removing his shoes, setting them on the mat. Glad to have gotten a response from his dazed friend, Ant suggested, "Come on, let's get you a cuppa," while leading Dec through the family room and into the kitchen – unwilling to leave him alone even for a few minutes – seating him at the table before grabbing the kettle and his stash of Dec's favorite tea. Carrying both mugs of tea, Ant motioned for Dec to go ahead of him as they silently entered the family room once again. Dec sank into the plush loveseat – his favorite spot and the most comfortable of all the furnishings in the room – while Ant settled himself down next to his friend, pulling him into his side. They sat without speaking for several minutes, sipping at their tea while lost in their own thoughts, neither one willing to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the room. Slowly, ever so slowly, Ant began to feel the tension in Dec's body ebbing away as he finished his tea, and wrapped both arms around his smaller friend, Dec's breaths deepening as he found tranquility in the safety of Ant's arms.

Finally, a quiet, haunted, "They found me," was heard, breaking the stillness of the moment as its meaning hit Ant with resounding clarity. Those bloody paparazzi, Ant cursed in his mind, anger coursing through his veins. He and Dec had both struggled with learning to cope with the sudden attention focused on their everyday lives over the past year and a half, but he knew it had pained Dec more than it had him. At his darkest, Ant had wrestled with the constant imposition of the press on his life, the intense scrutiny causing him to fall deeper into depression, losing himself in its wily pit of self-destruction. But he was mostly protected from the worst of the paparazzi attention last year – he had moved to Wimbledon after his stint in rehab, and it was a much quieter area, less bothered by paparazzi and celebrity spotters wanting to make a few quid by selling photos and stories to the tabloids. Dec, however, had had to deal with paparazzi stalking him almost daily for weeks on end – Dec had told him later that he reckoned he'd never been in the papers so much before – and the feeling of never being able to let his guard down had taken its toll on him. And now, when he was feeling so vulnerable due to admitting to needing counseling to deal with the past year's emotional baggage, Ant could understand why his mind had shut down....And why he had made his way to Ant's without even being aware of it.

Suddenly realizing that Ali was probably wondering where her husband was, Ant questioned softly, "Does Ali know you're here?" even though he already knew the answer would be no. Shaking his head miserably, Dec's wide puppy eyes met Ant's, a pained look in them as he bared his wounded soul to the only person who had ever truly understood him. His heart clenching at the sight, Ant sighed sadly and said, "I'll give her a ring," knowing Dec was in no shape to call her himself. After a brief conversation, reassuring Ali that her husband was alive and – sort of – well, Ant ended the call before turning to his friend yet again. "Do you want to talk about it?" Dec shook his head imperceptibly, biting his lower lip as his eyes filled with tears. "Come here," Ant whispered, pulling Dec to his chest as he broke down, silent tears wetting Ant's jumper as he let out all of his pent up emotions in one fell swoop, body shaking with the force of his ragged breaths. Ant's heart was breaking, but he knew he had to be strong for his friend right now, so he kissed his head, his voice reaching Dec's ears as a gentle rumble in his chest, vibrating through Dec's skull. "It's okay, Dec. It's okay. Just let it all out," Ant whispered soothingly, rubbing Dec's back tenderly as he continued to weep on Ant's chest. Eventually, the trembling of Dec's body eased, his breaths evening out as the last of his tears dripped sluggishly down his cheeks. Voice still wobbling dangerously, Dec managed a muted, "Thank you," his voice muffled as he spoke into Ant's jumper, face tightly pressed to Ant's chest. No reply was necessary as Ant squeezed his friend just a little bit tighter, knowing Dec needed physical reassurance more than verbal right now. Stillness reigned as the two friends clung to each other, each needing the reassurance of the other's touch to feel that everything would actually be okay in the end. Sleep ultimately claimed the emotionally exhausted pair as they relaxed in each other's hold – Dec with his arms wrapped around Ant's middle, head resting on his chest, while Ant continued to completely envelope his smaller friend in the loving fortress of his arms. The safety they felt while in each other's arms was like no other – and as they dozed off, both were aware of the same truth: their greatest strength was each other, and as long as they had that safe haven of love, nothing could ever truly break them.

[decandantfics]

I Trust You

Ant had been practicing for weeks, working so hard to perfect his skills. Ever since that production meeting when the BGT team had so casually told them what they wanted him and Dec to do, Ant had been working feverishly to make sure he knew what he was doing. You see, this wasn't just any old skill like singing or learning a dance routine, this was knife throwing. And he would be throwing a knife at his best mate. Well, not directly at him, but in his immediate vicinity. Which meant there was a chance of accidentally hitting him. Swallowing hard as a nervous knot formed deep in his belly, Ant pushed down the mental image of a knife stuck in his best friend's chest, and focused back on the board in front of him. Partially extending his left arm in front of him, he grasped the blade of the knife in his right. Right, one...two...three! He counted silently in his head as he brought his right wrist down to meet his left in time with each number, letting go of the knife on the count of three. He had hit the bullseye perfectly. Now that he felt he'd warmed up by getting a feel for where the bullseye was located, he removed the knife from the board, stepped back to his mark, and placed the blindfold over his eyes. Repeating the process, he threw the knife again. Apprehensively, he removed the blindfold. A bit too far to the right – better than to the left, he reminded himself – but the knife had still landed in the outer edge of the circle.

He should have been in bed ages ago, but instead found himself in the games room of his home, standing in front of the knife throwing board yet again. It had been a long, hectic, but very fun, week – he and Dec had presented four of the 2019 BGT semi-finals so far, with just tomorrow night's show left to go until they could have a rest on Saturday to prepare for Sunday's big final. And Ant was so, so tired, but he just couldn't rest. Tomorrow afternoon, he and Dec would be recording the opener for semi-final number five, which involved him throwing a knife at Dec while blindfolded. His Adam's apple bobbed with another nervous swallow before he paced back to the board and repeated the whole throwing process again. This time, the knife landed straight in the middle of the bullseye. That was more like it! He repeated the throw 20 more times, silently chanting the mantra his knife throwing instructor had instilled in him to ensure he remembered to do everything necessary to complete a perfect throw. Finally satisfied that his throws were as good as they possibly could be, Ant shut off the lights and climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Anne-Marie.

He had told Anne-Marie not to wait up for him, that he had some work to do. She had nodded at him knowingly in mock seriousness, while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She knew exactly what he was going to be doing, and it certainly wasn't going to involve him sitting at his desk doing paperwork for his and Dec's production company. Ant had grinned sheepishly, knowing he'd been caught out, and let out a small laugh at her cheeky antics. "Go on, away with you!" he shooed her up to their bedroom, chasing after her like a mischievous child while her merry laughter rang out ahead of him. Sharing a passionate kiss, they had said goodnight, and Ant had made his way back downstairs to the game room to do that "work" he'd mentioned earlier.

That was over an hour ago, and as Ant snuck into their darkened bedroom, he could just make out Anne-Marie's golden hair flowing over her pillow, framing her beautiful face. He loved her so, so much – he really couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her and her two daughters in his life. They reminded him every day to live his life to the fullest and to find the positives in everything. He honestly couldn't imagine a life without the three of them anymore. Having quickly changed into his nighttime boxers, Ant let out a deep sigh as he relaxed into the mattress, gently taking Anne-Marie into his arms. His mind wandered to the one other person – other than his family – whom he couldn't imagine life without: Declan. That man – slight of frame but massive of heart – owned such a large piece of him that Ant knew he would never recover if he lost him. Dec had been Ant's one constant – the only unchanging detail in the ever-changing fabric of his life. Out of the whole mess of the past two years, Dec was the one part of his life – the one part of him – that had never changed. Well, perhaps he had changed a bit – Dec was now a dad, after all, and that had certainly changed him. He was way more tired than he used to be for a start! But now Ant had moved 8 miles away from the street where he and Dec had shared so many memories. It still ached to live so far away from each other, but he and Dec had found a way to make it work. Because of course they had – they were Ant and Dec, after all – and he cherished the time he spent with Dec every week outside of work when they would meet up for lunch or dinner, or would simply hang out together, talking about life, NUFC, basically anything and everything that came to mind.

Conversation hadn't always flowed so smoothly over the past year as it did now. Ant had to admit that they had stopped being Ant and Dec for a short period last year, the tensions caused by his inexcusable actions weighing heavily on their relationship. But they had talked it through as only they could – not shying away from difficult discussions that sometimes resulted in tears and/or angry tirades at each other and life in general. Ant felt terribly guilty about everything he had put Declan through over the past couple of years – 2018 in particular – and it hurt to think what his only friend had suffered because of his actions. Dec had always been such a sensitive soul, always showing empathy when those around him were upset or hurting – sometimes to the point of choking up on live telly and having to blink away tears before they could roll down his cheeks. Dec hated it when Simon or another of the judges on BGT was particularly harsh to a contestant on the live shows. He had caught Dec surreptitiously wiping his eyes a couple of times this week in the brief moments between camera shots when he thought no one would catch him in the act. Perhaps that was the biggest change in Dec over the past year, Ant mused: he had become far more publicly emotional.

Dec had been self-conscious about his short stature and slightly effeminate looks for as long as Ant had known him, and had therefore often felt the need to play himself up as a tough guy while on screen. He was extremely private – he didn't want others to see his deepest emotions, didn't want to expose his incredibly vulnerable side to the world. Ant had always been more comfortable with showing and expressing his emotions in public, but he understood why Dec preferred to hide that intensely private side of himself behind a shield of tough resilience. And he was a tough guy, to be fair. He was fiercely competitive – to a fault, Ant thought with a wry smile – and had a fiery temper that you definitely didn't want to be in the firing line of if he had entered his Scrappy Doo mode. An affectionate, amused smile curved Ant's lips as the nickname he had coined for Dec so many years ago came to mind. But truthfully, Dec was one of the strongest people he knew, beaten to that post only by his mam, Christine. Which, he supposed, made Declan the strongest man he knew. But as Ant so well knew himself after the past couple of years, being strong didn't come without a fight. And he knew Dec had struggled mightily in his absence last year.

Months ago, probably against his better judgement, Ant had requested the official tapes of the final two episodes of last year's Takeaway from ITV. It had broken his heart to see Dec looking so lost and upset, and he had wept when Dec nearly broke down on stage in that first solo show. Oddly, it wasn't as difficult as he had thought to watch Dec on his own – it was pure torture seeing him with Holly Willoughby – perhaps because observing Dec's broken face and weary body made him realize just how much he was needed by Dec. Even just thinking that made Ant feel a bit ashamed – what sort of sick person would want to see their one true friend suffer just to make themselves feel needed? But in a strange sort of way, he knew Declan would understand exactly where he was coming from – it was good to feel like your presence in someone's life meant so much to them. It gave your own life an extra bit of value to know that someone was so dependent on you that they couldn't be truly happy without you. Perhaps the sign of an unhealthy relationship? Nah – they'd lived like this, always in each other's pockets, for nigh on 30 years now, and it had worked for them so far!

His brain came full circle again as he remembered how Dec had broken down during rehearsals for the first semi-final on Monday. Brian Gilligan had chosen a song called "Lost Without You" – Ant had never heard of it before – which had utterly heartbreaking lyrics. As he and Dec had sat back in the audience section – they liked to watch the acts rehearse from the audience's perspective since they were almost always backstage during the live performances on the night – he became aware of Dec's body shaking. They were sitting side by side, a little way back in the theatre, arms and shoulders pressed up against each other. Ant was enjoying Brian's performance – it was a hauntingly beautiful song – but wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to the lyrics, his mind whirring with nerves – he was about to make his first live return to television that evening. As he glanced over at Dec, though, noting the tears trickling down his face, his ears picked out the words as Brian continued singing:

'Cause I've been strong for so long, I never thought how much I needed you, I think I'm lost without you....

With the sudden realization that Dec was crying because the lyrics described how he had felt last year, Ant felt a huge lump forming in his own throat as he wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulders, guiding Dec's head onto his shoulder. This really, really hurt. Ant could feel Dec relaxing into his hold, but the guilt welling up inside of him was overwhelming. He just had to say something. In the end, all he could come up with was a heartfelt, "I'm so, so sorry, Declan." Dec had lifted his tear-stained face from Ant's shoulder, raw emotion gleaming in his eyes, and replied, "It was all worth it, Ant. I've got you back." It still blew Ant away that Dec would consider the immense stress and heartache he had suffered – all alone – to be worth it just because it meant that he had his friend back by his side. But Ant knew he would have done the same for Dec in a heartbeat – they loved each other, they would do anything for each other, and it was as simple as that. Dec had forced Ant to be selfish last year – refusing to even mention work whenever they met up – making him think of nothing but himself and his recovery. It was what Ant had needed, but he still felt awful for having caused his best friend so much pain. Shoving the feelings of guilt back into their corner in his mind, knowing that as soon as he let them have free reign he'd never get any sleep, Ant snuggled closer to Anne-Marie, breathing in the soft scent of her perfume. He knew he was loved despite what he'd done – Dec had always passed on multitudinous messages, tweets, and letters of support from the public every time they met up last year – but while the public's support meant the world to him, it was the love within his own, tight-knit circle that meant the most. As long as he had Dec and his new little family by his side, he knew he'd be able to get through whatever life threw at him. And with that thought, Ant finally dozed off, getting some much-needed rest before another hectic day of BGT madness.

                                                        ~~~

Rehearsals were well underway for the fifth semi-final of Britain's Got Talent 2019, and Ant and Dec were in the midst of a quick discussion with the production team regarding the opener for tonight's show. They had run through it all before on paper, but now it was time to iron out the final details. Ant exuded nervous energy, his fingers twitching and his body seemingly unable to keep still, while Dec...Dec seemed quite relaxed about the whole thing, nodding calmly as one of the team showed him exactly where to stand in front of the knife throwing board. Ant was unbelievably nervous, and he was seriously wishing that they had shot this idea down the moment it was suggested to them. To be fair, they had both protested quite loudly when the production team had first laid out their idea for tonight's opener. But in the end, they had reluctantly agreed to do it – although Dec was vehement that he would not be the one throwing the knife. He wanted nothing to do with the responsibility of throwing a weapon at his friend, and said he trusted Ant to do a better job of it than he ever could. His belief and blind trust in Ant was quite touching, really, but Ant wanted nothing more than to be the one leaning up against that board today. Despite how well his practice had been going, there was still a latent worry in his mind that it could all go terribly wrong. He was more than thankful that they had put their foot down when it came to the type of knife he would be throwing. The producers had wanted him to use a "proper" knife like the ones you saw professional knife throwers using – marked by a wide, dangerously sharp and deadly blade. No, he had refused to go along with that, and said he wanted as small and innocuous a knife as they could possibly manage without it looking ridiculous. He could sense Dec's gratitude as the producers finally caved to his demands. Ant knew how terrified Dec had been last year when that magician had thrown a knife at him – Ant had been so scared himself that he'd let out a yelp when the knife went flying through the air towards his friend – and he was glad he could put Dec's mind at ease, even a little bit, with this small victory. But that was then and this was now, and now was when he had to throw a knife at his best friend for the first time ever.

There wasn't long to go before they went on air – only a couple of hours - and he and Dec were already in their suits, ready to record the opening sequence. The hope was to do it all in one continuous take, but if Ant's throw wasn't great, then they could just re-film that part and meld it into the rest of the opening sequence with a bit of a continuity shot. But before running through the entire scene from the top, he and Dec were going to do a bit of rehearsal for the knife throwing bit. And Ant was so nervous he could feel his hands shaking – certainly not ideal when he was supposed to be throwing a knife at someone. Ant felt Dec's eyes boring into his skull, and turned to see him gazing at him with a small, warm smile on his face. It was obvious he could sense Ant's inner turmoil. The next thing Ant knew, he was being smothered in a full-blown Declan Donnelly bear hug, with Dec's hot breath ghosting past his ear as a whisper became audible, spoken so softly that only Ant could hear it: "I trust you." Ant's heart swelled with gratitude and love for the man currently wrapping him in a tight hug – Dec always knew how to make Ant feel better and wash away his nerves, and now was no exception. Ant could feel himself take a deep breath as Dec gave him one final squeeze before pulling away. Then, "I guess now's when I'll find out if you want to kill me!" Dec observed cheekily, giving Ant a playful wink and lining himself up in the middle of the X on the board. Ant couldn't help but grin as his friend gave him another encouraging smile. Okay, then, Ant thought to himself, this was it. He lined himself up with his mark on the floor, then stared at the board for a moment, orientating himself. Lifting the blindfold from the table, Ant saw Dec lip his licks nervously out of the corner of his eye. Of course Dec was a bit nervous – he had never enjoyed any of the dangerous stunts they had pulled over the years on their shows – but his trust in Ant was still evident on his face as their gaze met one last time before Ant's eyes were covered by the blindfold. "All right, then, after three...." Ant rasped out, nerves making his voice sound croaky. "One...Two...Three!" As he let the knife fly out of his hand, Ant winced, half-expecting to hear Dec cry out in pain. Instead, an amazed, but decidedly mischievous, "So you don't want to kill me, then! Good to know!" rang through the air, as Ant took his blindfold off to see Dec standing there, staring with wide eyes at the knife that had landed perfectly on its mark, a few inches from his head. Ant let out a relieved laugh, while Dec stuck his tongue out at him, an impish glint in his eyes as he stepped away from the board, jokingly clutching at his heart as if he'd been hit. Ant playfully whacked Dec's shoulder as his friend let out a giggle, before enveloping him in a quick hug – more than relieved that it had gone well. They practiced the throw a couple more times, now acting out the scene as well, before Ant decided he felt ready to try filming it for real.

As they got into position to start filming, Dec reached out and squeezed Ant's arm gently, meeting his gaze with eyes that spoke of total trust and gleamed with love. Ant smiled gratefully, and as the cameras started rolling, he switched into professional mode, acting out the scene with Dec. The words flowed easily between the two men as if they were just having a normal conversation, not filming a scripted segment for a TV show. As they neared the knife throwing area, Ant felt the nervous knot re-forming in his stomach, but he kept his face impassive, continuing with the scene as if nothing was wrong. Ant and Dec were walking so close to each other now that their arms were touching, the contact helping to soothe both of their nerves. Grasping Dec's upper arm gently, Ant pushed him towards the board, as Dec pretended to be puzzled. Right, this was it. Letting out a little chuckle as Dec acted utterly terrified and quoted the line that had followed them for decades, "He cannae see, man!" Ant put on the blindfold. Nerves getting the better of him, he fumbled blindly for the knife, muttering, "Okay, right. Here we go, then...Where's the knife." Readying himself, Ant straightened up, facing the board, and pushed down the panic creeping up his spine. It was fine, he was on his mark, he'd made sure of that. "All right, then, after three..." Trying to disguise the tension in his voice, but failing miserably, Ant began the countdown (or count up, as it was in this case). As he half-shouted the number three, his voice rising as his hand catapulted forward in a calculated throw, he felt the knife leaving his hand. But it felt wrong, like it had flown out of his hand at an angle rather than straight forward like it was supposed to. His heart in his throat, Ant reminded himself the cameras were still rolling as he hurriedly removed the blindfold. And there Dec was, looking thoroughly shocked – remember, we're still filming, Ant reminded himself...but completely uninjured. Ant's mind had been playing tricks on him, the panic of the moment making him think he had messed up the throw – it had actually been just as perfect as the one in their very first rehearsal of the day. But he couldn't celebrate quite yet, they still needed to finish the scene. The hard part over now, Ant focused all of his mental energy on making sure he didn't mess up his lines as they acted out the remainder of the opener. Finally, the director called "Cut!" while Ant and Dec high-fived each other excitedly. They had completed it all in one take – no mistakes, no flubbed lines, and, most importantly, no one had died.

"See? I told you it would be fine," Dec teased. "I nearly lost it for a moment, there," Ant admitted, running a shaking hand over his forehead as the adrenaline rush kicked in. "Yeah, but you were great – wasn't he fantastic, everyone?" Dec raised his voice as he addressed their crew, "I think Ant here deserves a round of applause for that performance." As the crew clapped and added in some whoops and cheers of their own, Dec turned back to Ant with a naughty smile and quipped, "Never knew you were kinky like that, by the way – I quite like the blindfolded look on you, love!" before winking and wandering over to the huddle of crew members watching back the scenes they had just recorded. Mouth hanging open in mock outrage as he let out a scandalized guffaw, Ant could only thank his lucky stars that he had found Declan all those years ago. They trusted each other, understood each other, and could always make each other laugh, no matter the situation. What they had together was precious, and as he followed his friend over to the crowded monitor, Ant felt like he was the luckiest man in the world – and with a true friend like Dec, Ant thought to himself, he probably was.

[decandantfics]

I Need You

A/N – This story went in a very different direction to what I originally intended to write when one of the plot ideas first came to mind. No disrespect is intended towards either Ant or Dec or those involved in these events. It is obviously a fictional story based on true events.  I sincerely hope my story doesn't offend anyone.

Everything happened in slow motion. The black-and-red Mini careened around a corner at high speed, crossing over into the opposite lane and crashing nearly head-on into an oncoming car, before swerving again due to the impact and smashing head first into a parked car. The Mini finally came to a stop with an ear-shattering crash as the entire front end of the car was crushed by the impact. An eerie silence followed the melee, as multiple bystanders were shocked into stillness by what they'd just witnessed. Finally, one of them pulled out their phone and dialed 999, speaking urgently into their mobile as they gave the location of the accident and detailed the number of cars involved. It wasn't looking good for the occupant(s) of the black-and-red Mini, they said – there appeared to be at least two occupants in the car, and neither one of them was moving. The occupants of the other two cars were slowly emerging, seeming dazed and shaken, but otherwise okay. Seemingly an eternity later, emergency services arrived on the scene, mostly crowding around the completely pulverized black-and-red Mini while a few paramedics checked over the others involved in the crash. As a short, brown-haired bystander drew closer to the scene in curiousity, a shout was heard from one of the first responders: "We have a pulse on the female passenger! Let's get her out!" Meanwhile, the flurry of activity that had been concentrated on accessing the driver's side of the car, which had been completely mangled in the collision, suddenly slowed. As the bystander drew ever closer, ignoring the warnings from emergency responders to stay away from the area, a quiet statement was heard as access to the driver of the vehicle was secured. "The male is deceased. Get the gurney." Horrified by those words, the nosy pedestrian stilled for a moment before deciding to move even closer as curiousity got the better of them. Now basically in the way of the first responders as they worked to extract the driver from the vehicle, the person watched on in silence as the morbid rescue mission played out in front of them. As the first responders finally managed to extract the deceased man from the car, the bystander gasped. No, no, it couldn't be!!! No, please no, not him, he can't be dead! The emergency responders whirled around in surprise as they heard a loud, heartbroken wail sound from behind them as they placed the deceased man on the gurney and covered him with a sheet....

                                                       ~~~

Ali slept peacefully on her side in the small hours of the morning, comfortably nestled in a cocoon of blankets. It had been a long, exhausting day, and with a baby on the way, nothing was going to stop her from getting the rest she – and her growing little one – needed. She had had a horrible time convincing her husband to come to bed with her when she eventually crawled under the covers just after midnight; he had had a very rough day, and was utterly distraught. She knew he needed rest, but she could see in his haunted eyes that he didn't actually want to sleep. He was still waiting to hear an update on the horrific event that had happened earlier that day, and didn't want to go to sleep until he knew what was going on. In the end, though, Ali worked her charm and managed to convince him to slide under the covers and at least try to get some shut-eye. "Turn your phone volume down a bit and leave it on – you can even put it on your pillow if you like, but just please try to get some rest, love," she had pleaded with him. Caving to her gentle request, Dec had placed the phone next to him on the bedside table – within easy reach in case of a call or text coming in. Closing his eyes, a strangled sigh forced its way out of him, at which his wife reached over to him under the covers and squeezed his hand, soothingly stroking it with her thumb until her breaths evened out and she fell into a deep sleep. On the other side of the bed, her husband did not have such an easy time of falling asleep. In fact, he didn't expect to sleep a wink tonight, at least not until he got an update on his friend, and even then it was doubtful. His mind raced in circles, never really reaching its destination – his thoughts too jumbled to be made sense of in his overwrought state.

It had been nearly 8 hours since he'd received a call from his "second mother," Christine, informing him that she and her son – his best friend of 29 years – had been involved in a car accident. Those words had sucked the air straight out of his lungs, causing him to sit down abruptly on a kitchen chair as fear for his friend gripped him. It was a good thing that chair had been there, because the next shaky words that left her mouth would have knocked him clean to the ground: "Ant's failed a breathalyzer test, the police have arrested him and are taking him in for questioning." A very far away voice – was that his voice? – could be heard choking out a horrified, "WHAT?!?"

In some ways, the numbness that came with the shock Christine's words had instilled in him was a blessing. In the background of the call, Dec picked out a familiar, terrified, but almost sort of belligerent voice. Hearing that voice was what broke him, but the explosion of pain was lost on his paralyzed senses. This was actually real, it wasn't some bizarre hallucination or a bad dream...Right? Dec pinched himself, hoping desperately that he would wake up and find that it had been a nightmare brought on by too much stress and too little sleep. No such luck. He still didn't recognize the sound of his own voice as he urgently questioned Christine: "Are either of you hurt?" Upon hearing her reassurance that they were both physically okay – very shaken up and a bit bruised and battered, but otherwise uninjured, Dec felt the tightness in his chest dissipate a tiny bit, allowing him to draw in much-needed oxygen. His mouth seemed unable to form words as his mind shut down in stubborn protest. He was dimly aware of Christine asking him if he was okay, but he couldn't answer. Her concerned voice drifted in one ear and out the other, he was unable to focus on anything. She finally gave up at trying to get a response and ended the call with a promise to let him know as soon as she had an update on the situation.

Ali bustled into the kitchen cheerfully, chattering brightly to Rocky, who followed at her heels attentively, hoping her journey to the kitchen might result in a tasty treat for him. He stopped short, though, puzzled by the energy emanating from his master, who seemed to have turned into a statue, seemingly unable to see him even as he clawed at his pant legs and barked worriedly at him. Rocky's odd behavior caused Ali to pivot on her heel, only then becoming aware of her husband's presence at the kitchen table. Her blood ran cold as she saw his facial expression. His face was completely blank, eyes unseeing and ears unhearing, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance even as she urgently tried to get his attention. He seemed frozen in place – paralyzed, even – and Ali had never been more terrified. It went without saying that something terrible had happened to precipitate his current stupor, but what? There were really only two things that could place Dec in such a state – a tragedy in his family or....Oh, no, not Ant. Noticing his mobile phone gripped tightly in his right hand, Ali stepped up to him and gently but firmly pried it out of his grasp. Quickly unlocking it, she noted that the most recently used app was the phone. With shivering fingers, Ali tapped on Dec's call history, unsure as to what she would find. Her heart stopped for a moment when she saw Christine Woodhall's contact listed as the most recent call. Oh, goodness, it was Ant!

Dec was still completely unresponsive, and Ali was terrified out of her wits now, fearing the worst. Rocky was still barking at his master frantically, teeth pulling at his sweatpants with all his might in between barks. Ali couldn't believe what she was doing as she drew her hand back and slapped her husband's cheek hard in desperation. A red mark formed on Dec's cheek where she had hit him, and she winced inwardly. But the smarting of his skin seemed to have had the desired effect, as her husband's eyes slowly focused and he became aware of his surroundings. Wide eyes turned towards her as his hand rose to his aching cheek, but his facial expression remained blank. "Declan, love, what's happened? You're scaring me," Ali said gently, reaching a hand out towards her partner, lightly touching his shoulder. Still no response. But he apparently had regained his sense of hearing, as his eyes met hers again. Deciding the best course of action would be to make him a hot cup of tea and try to move him somewhere more comfortable – his lower back had been bothering him lately, and sitting in their kitchen chairs exacerbated the problem – she let him be for a few moments. As she filled the kettle and clicked it on, she heard him take in a long, shuddering breath, and then silence reigned once more. Rocky was now sitting quietly at his master's feet, big puppy eyes staring up at him in confusion as he tilted his head first one way and then another – if the whole situation hadn't been so strange and terrifying, Ali would have laughed at how adorable their little pup looked right now. But this most definitely wasn't a time for laughter.

Focusing once again on the task at hand, Ali moved around the table to her husband's side, sliding her hands onto his soft jumper and placing them underneath his arms while lifting slightly – motioning with her head for him to stand up. As if in a daze, Dec rose from his seat, only to nearly collapse back into it again as his legs gave way. Holding him firmly, worry and panic seized Ali as she just barely managed to keep them both upright. Carefully guiding him into the lounge, she pushed him down onto the plush sofa before hurrying back to the kitchen as the kettle began to boil. Placing the steaming mug of tea into her husband's pliant fingers, Ali sank down next to him and softly ordered him to drink the hot liquid, resigned to waiting for an explanation until the shock began to wear off a bit. Shivers ran through his body as he impassively regarded the tea in his mug, taking small sips every few seconds like an automaton. Concerned, Ali lifted the warm blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapped it snugly around Dec, realizing that his skin was ice cold. Some time later, Dec had drained all of the tea from his cup, and a slight tinge of pink had returned to his previously colorless cheeks, even though he was still perched woodenly on the edge of the sofa, frozen in limbo by the protective numbing of his mind.

Ali decided it was safe to try to reach him again, as she removed the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table. Wrapping her arms around his chest from behind, she pulled him into a soft embrace and held him there. Tenderly placing a kiss on his cheek where the mark of her blow was still visible, Ali whispered softly, "Please tell me what's happened. You're scaring me." Dec's eyes finally met hers again, and this time, there was recognition in them. Lucidity gradually returned, but with it came a storm Ali could never have quite predicted. Before her very eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled inside Dec's irises: fear, horror, grief, despair, pain, and then an indescribable fury that made Ali's breath catch in her chest as she shrunk away from his wild gaze.

OK, that was definitely not what she was expecting. Anger? What on earth had happened?! But then the rage in his eyes faded, and was replaced by what Ali could only describe as heartbroken devastation. Dec's eyes filled with tears, and he began to weep bitterly, hiding his face in Ali's neck as his sobs increased in volume and intensity. Several minutes of tense silence followed his breakdown.

"Ant's been arrested for drink-driving."

Ali's heart stopped. His words had been so quietly spoken that she had to replay them in her mind a couple of times before she could be sure of what he'd said. And even then, a hushed, "What did you say?" passed by her lips, needing to make sure she'd heard him correctly.

"Christine called me. Ant crashed his car and was arrested. He failed the breathalyzer."

There was a definite edge of anger to his tone now, and his eyes flashed dangerously again, the tension in his body increasing by the second. A moment later, though, he dissolved into tears yet again, sobbing brokenly:

"Ant would never do that, Ali, he would never! It has to be a mistake, please tell me this isn't happening. Please, please, please....!"

His words became lost in the fervor of his grief, the room silent except for his choked sobs and labored breaths as he began to hyperventilate, his mental anguish blinding him to everything but the stabbing pain in his heart as reality sunk in with horrifying gravity. Realizing Dec was slipping into a panic attack, Ali acted quickly, trying to remember what she had seen Ant do on the one occasion in the distant past when she had been witness to one of Dec's rare panics. Nothing worked to snap him out of his hysteria, so she resigned herself to waiting it out with him, pulling him to her chest and calmingly stroking his hair while placing loving kisses on his forehead.

It was several minutes later when Dec managed to break himself out of his panicked state. But pained silence now replaced his previously frenzied state. One look at his broken, disbelieving expression told Ali that speaking was not an option right now. He just simply needed someone – anyone – to be there with him. As quiet settled over the room – Rocky had decided it was now safe to join his master and mistress on the sofa, curling up on Dec's lap and nudging his hand with his nose, trying to help his distressed friend in his own small way – Ali began to process what had happened. This changed everything. Having been a celebrity talent manager for many years now, she knew exactly what this would do to her boys' career. Ant and Dec might be over, this might be the end of the line. It was far too early to tell, but the consequences of Ant's actions – assuming this wasn't actually a mistake – were unimaginable. Actually, no, with her vast experience as a manager she could imagine the consequences, but she preferred to pretend that she couldn't.

Her heart broke for her husband and his best friend. She knew Dec had been worried about Ant for months now, and had confided in her just a few short weeks ago that he was concerned that the latest series of Saturday Night Takeaway would prove too much for Ant. Ant and Dec's job was highly pressurized – they were such consummate, experienced professionals that they made it look easy to the viewers at home – but they worked incredibly hard and held a lot of responsibility on their shoulders as ITV's most prized possessions. And with the pain Ant was suffering privately as he went through a very public and messy divorce, and the constant scrutiny from the press, Dec had good reason to be concerned. Her husband was very sensitive when it came to emotions, and he knew Ant wasn't being entirely truthful whenever Dec asked him how he was doing. She realized Dec would probably be blaming himself for Ant's breakdown sooner rather than later, berating himself for not having done more to prevent his friend's downfall. Her husband was going to need her more than ever before.

The couple eventually separated, Ali pressing a kiss to Dec's head as she stood and headed towards her home office. She knew her phone was probably ringing off the hook, and even though she wasn't officially the boys' manager anymore, she was going to throw herself wholeheartedly into trying to help them sort this mess out. Closing the door behind her, she steeled herself for the onslaught to come as soon as she unlocked her phone. Sure enough, 25 missed calls and multiple messages and emails faced her. Sighing, Ali set to work, hoping desperately that there was still a way to save Ant and Dec from destruction....

The rest of the day passed by at different speeds for the two human occupants of the Donnelly residence. Rocky had effectively velcroed himself to Dec's side, licking away his salty tears when he cried and persistently nudging at his hand with his nose until Dec started petting him again when he got lost in a black train of thought. Ali was overwhelmed with work as the news broke to the world that Ant McPartlin of Ant and Dec had been arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence of alcohol. She ventured out of her office from time to time to check on Dec, finding him in almost the same slumped position on the sofa every time. She had tried to break into his dark train of thought a couple of times, but after he viciously snapped at her once – telling her he just wanted to be alone – she decided to leave him be. He refused any semblance of dinner, his face alternating between a dark storm cloud of rage and the visage of a broken man as he dared himself to venture online and read what Ali told him was one of the more trustworthy reports of what had happened today. Heartbreak eventually won out as the most prominent of his emotions when he saw the photos of Ant, only replaced by a look of horror when he noted the extent of damage to the cars involved in the collision. Tears of relief dripped down his features as he thanked God that Ant, Christine, and everyone else involved had been kept safe from harm. Ali eventually had to pry the laptop out of his hands when he continually read and re-read the article, shaking his head disbelievingly and muttering to himself unintelligibly. It was obvious he still couldn't believe what had happened, still had a shred of hope deep down inside that this was all a terrible mistake and his best friend's name would be cleared of any wrongdoing...She had known this would be hard, but she didn't think it would be this hard.

The man she had known for nigh on 20 years now had disappeared. The person in front of her was a shell of himself, the mischievous spark gone out of his eyes, his normally animated features clouded over by misery. It broke her heart to see him like this, especially as he had been oh-so-happy for weeks now after he and Ali had discovered that, after years of fruitless trying, they were expecting a child. In a rare moment of letting her emotions rule her, Ali cursed the universe for having ruined what should be the happiest time of their lives. There was no knowing how Dec would cope in the long run if he and Ant lost their career, or, worse still, lost each other. Deep down, she knew their love for each other was unconditional, but this was the toughest ever test of their relationship. She shuddered to think what would happen if their friendship was unable to survive this unexpected blow.

                                                        ~~~

Shooting upright in bed, Dec gasped painfully for air as his throat closed and pain filled his being. Saliva pooled in his mouth as an image from his dream burned unrelentingly into his retinas. Ant. Dead. Bolting off of the mattress with a pained sob, he dashed into the en suite, just barely getting there in time before retches racked his body. There was nothing in his stomach – all he brought up was bile and stomach acid which burned at his throat. Sobs shook his small frame as he leaned back against the bathroom tiles. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Ant.

Wait. That had been a dream, right? His overtired mind played tricks on him, causing him to doubt himself. Mindful of Ali – hopefully – still asleep in their bed, Dec tried to control his ragged breathing as he crept back into the bedroom and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, noting the time. He had lain awake for over 2 hours, just waiting, waiting for word to come that Ant had been released from the police station, but none had come. He must have fallen asleep for maybe a quarter of an hour, as it was now just after 2:30am.

He battled with himself for a few brief moments before opening his text messages. His thumb hovered over Ant's name before resolutely tapping it, opening their message thread. Unable to help himself, the lingering terror of his dream still hovering in his mind, he typed out a short message and quickly sent it before he could chicken out and change his mind: "Are you okay? I need you."

He lost track of how long he sat in darkness, his sad gaze fixed on the black, unchanging screen of his phone. A sudden buzz and flash of light broke him out of his silent reverie, two words simultaneously breaking his heart and causing him to breathe a sigh of relief: "I'm sorry."

Hurriedly tiptoeing out of the bedroom and locking himself away in his office, he hit "Call." He wasn't going to keep him long, he told himself, he just needed to hear his voice, make sure he was okay. It took a few rings for Ant to pick up, but when he did, Dec barely recognized the sorrowful, broken voice that answered the phone. His heart shattered yet again as he heard Ant's stuttering breaths crackling through the line. It was obvious he was crying. He wanted nothing more than to go 'round to Ant's and protect him from everything he was facing, but he knew Ali would kill him if he did that. There would be paparazzi outside both their homes by now, he was sure of it, and rushing over to Ant's in the middle of the night – dressed in his PJs – would make the tabloids' day.

Dec had known as soon as Ant answered the phone that it was all true, he had driven drunk, it wasn't a mistake. He felt strangely calm now that he knew the truth, all anger temporarily washed away by concern for the broken man on the other end of the line. Softly, Dec started, "It's okay, Ant, I still love you," before continuing, "Please, please promise me you won't do anything stupid. I need you, I can't live without you, man. Don't think I'm not angry, 'cause I am, I'm bloody furious, but I can promise you that we'll get through this, you and me together." His voice faltered as his love for Ant nearly overwhelmed him, "I want you to know that, no matter what happens, you're never going to be on your own out there. I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I love you. Please promise me you'll never leave me." His voice quivered with emotion as he pleaded with his one true friend, the man who had stood by his side through thick and thin for 29 years. He could hear Ant's breathy sobs on the other end of the line, but he knew he'd gotten his point across. He didn't really expect to get a coherent reply from Ant right now, but he stayed on the line, unwilling to leave his friend alone in his time of need. Minutes dragged past in silence as both men listened to the other's ragged breathing as they fought with their emotions. At long last, Ant's voice crackled through the line, merely a whisper. "I promise, Dec. I love you, too." And with that, the line went dead, leaving Dec with a raging sea of emotions that he couldn't control. But of all the waves of emotion that were crashing through his mind relentlessly, the strongest were love for, and a fierce protectiveness of, the man who had promised to never leave him alone in this cruel, cruel world. And as long as he was alive on this earth, he would never give up on Ant, he would never stop loving him or caring for him. No matter what this life threw at them, they had made a vow all those years ago to always be there for each other, and that was a vow Dec would keep to his dying day. I promise you, Ant, we'll get through this. Together.

[decandantfics]

More Than Words Could Ever Tell

It really shouldn't be this hard to get a good night's sleep, Dec thought idly to himself, as he rolled over for the twentieth time – yes, he'd been keeping count – trying to find a comfortable position in his and Ali's normally luxurious bed. Dec stilled momentarily as Ali sighed in her sleep beside him, and then breathed a quiet sigh of relief himself when she simply burrowed deeper into the covers and slumbered on. Auditions were underway for BGT 2019, and they had another full day of auditions tomorrow – today, actually, Dec corrected himself wryly. The display on the digital clock next to their bed glowed faintly in the dark, taunting him with the time: 1:30AM. He had gotten a grand total of 2 ½ hours of sleep so far tonight, and the way it looked right now, he probably wasn't going to get much more than that, if any. You see, it wasn't just any old day today: today was NTA day – the awards ceremony being held that evening at the London O2 Arena. He and Ant were up for three awards, as usual, but it was the Best Presenter Award that was causing his mind to race and turning his stomach to lead at 1:30 in the morning. He was terrified.

At heart, Dec knew it was silly – it was just an award, after all, and if they lost this year, it wouldn't be the end of the world....Or would it? He grimaced as he imagined the glee with which the press would hail "The End of Ant and Dec" if they lost tonight. And although he tried really hard to repress the next thought that came to mind, it bubbled up anyway. There would be a fair number of people who would be celebrating if Ant and Dec lost, and he wasn't thinking about the winner of the award. The amount of public hate being directed at him, and especially Ant, these days was horrifying, and try as he might to ignore it, it did sting a bit. He understood why so many people were angry – what Ant had done was indefensible – but it still hurt desperately to see the sheer depth of hostility towards Ant on social media. There was a reason they both tried to stay off of Twitter at the moment – it was too distressing to be on there and see all of the vitriol in their mentions.

And if they won that award tonight....His mind slid back to the NTAs, his heartrate speeding up and his mouth going dry. He didn't know how he was going to get through the day. It felt a bit like 2007 again, except this time it was actually worse; much, much worse, in fact. Yes, he knew the vast majority of their fans still loved them, and the love and goodwill directed towards him and Ant over the past year had been mind-boggling. It still choked him up a bit to think about all of the messages he and Ant had read together last year. But did he and Ant still have the public's trust? He wasn't so sure anymore. What had happened in 2007 was terrible, but the big difference there was that he and Ant had had nothing to do with the scandal. Yes, it involved their shows and they were listed as executive producers on SNT, but they genuinely hadn't had a clue what was going on. This time, though, it was Ant who had messed up. Big time.

Dec knew there would always be a small part of him that could never forgive Ant for what he'd done. Not because of the damage to their career or anything shallow like that. No, simply because he had put others' lives in danger with his actions, and that was something so far removed from both of their life values that he still couldn't believe Ant had actually done it. At the same time, he knew that the Ant who was behind the wheel that day was not the Ant he had known for 29 years. The Ant that day had been a broken and lost individual crying out for help. In some ways, Dec reflected, the crash was actually the best thing that ever happened to Ant. It was a desperate cry for help that resulted in Ant finally receiving the professional support he needed. It proved to be the catalyst for an incredible change in Ant as he found his true self again, got well, and turned over a new leaf in life. It was a horrible thing to have to happen in order for Ant to start to properly recover from his addictions and mental health issues, but if that's what it took for him to get his Ant back, then so be it.

Dec sighed and turned over again – 21, he ruefully counted in his head – before deciding to sneak another glance at the clock: 2:00AM. This was ridiculous. Another 4 hours until his alarm went off – it was an early start this morning due to meetings with their management and then the BGT producers – and he still couldn't get his mind to relent in its endless, panicked racing. Eventually he decided he'd had enough of tossing and turning in bed. He silently and oh-so-gently sat up on the mattress, swinging his legs over the side and sliding his feet into his slippers. Glancing at Ali to make sure she was still sound asleep, Dec grabbed his phone off the bedside table and stealthily crept out of their bedroom before peeking his head 'round the door to Isla's room. His heart swelled to see their little girl sleeping peacefully in her cot. He still couldn't quite believe he was finally a dad. Tiptoeing away from her door – the last thing he wanted to do was disturb either of his girls – he made his way into the kitchen, deciding a cup of decaf tea might help to settle his nerves and calm his mind. As he switched on the kettle, he idly checked his phone, surprised to see a notification flashing. There was a text from Ant:

"Stop worrying so much, Deccy, it's just a stupid award. Hardly the end of the world if we don't win. Go to sleep – dealing with a grumpy, sleepy Declan all day isn't on my bucket list! 😂"

Dec chuckled, his eyes lighting up with affection for the man who knew him so well and owned such a large piece of his heart. The text had been sent just after midnight – clearly, Dec wasn't the only one who had been struggling to sleep tonight, but he sincerely hoped Ant was having a better time of it than he was. Deciding it would be best not to reply right now – he didn't want to risk waking Ant – he continued to stare at the screen, trying to force Ant's words of wisdom into his brain in the hope that his racing mind might acquiesce and allow him at least another hour or two of sleep. He took his cup of tea with him to the lounge, where he switched on the telly and settled down on the plush couch, wrapping a warm blanket around himself. Putting a channel on with some mindless program that he hoped might bore him to sleep, he sipped his tea and opened Ant's text again, smiling fondly into his mug. It was uncanny how well they knew each other – some people might describe their relationship as being slightly freakish, but he knew better. Theirs was a relationship founded on trust and unconditional love – they just got each other, and they always had done, really. Ever since they became friends on the set of Byker Grove, there had been a special spark between them, it's just that they weren't necessarily aware of it at the time. They loved spending time with each other as youngsters, and if they couldn't physically be together, then they were always on the phone to each other, talking about anything and everything. And nearly 30 years on, that close interdependency they shared really hadn't changed. It was amazing what they had achieved in their three decades together. If it had all ended last year, they really couldn't have complained.

The clock on the mantelpiece was showing the time to be nearly 3am, and the tea was actually having its desired effect, as Dec began to feel a bit dozy. Deciding he was too shattered to bother moving back to bed, he sleepily switched off the telly and curled up on the couch, snuggling into the blanket and letting the drowsiness take over his mind.

                                                          ~~~

It was now 7:00am on 22 January, 2019. Dec was tiredly waiting in the foyer for their car to arrive. Joe was picking him up first this morning, since Ant lived a bit closer to the building where their first meeting of the day was being held. As Joe pulled up outside their drive, Dec hugged Ali tightly and gave her a lingering kiss. Ali could tell how nervous Dec was today, even though he was trying very hard to act nonchalant about the whole "NTAs thing," and it was more than obvious that he'd had trouble sleeping last night. She'd woken to an empty bed this morning and had made her way downstairs, thinking perhaps he had fallen asleep on the couch, only to find Dec already up, sitting wearily at the kitchen table nursing a cup of strong black coffee.

Dec slid into his seat in the car, and leaned onto the window ledge, curling up slightly and resting his head on his arm. It would probably be a good half hour's drive in the busy London traffic before they reached Ant's house. He might as well try to catch a quick cat nap during the drive there. The next thing he knew, he became aware of a warm, familiar scent filling his nostrils. Yawning widely, Dec blearily opened his eyes and glanced over to his right. Sure enough, there was Ant, staring at his phone, as he scrolled through his emails. Noting the movement on his left, Ant glanced up and breathed out a quiet, "Morning," to Dec as he smiled fondly at him. "You were out like a light. Didn't want to wake you. We've got about 10 minutes' drive left." To his surprise, Dec silently unlatched his seatbelt and slid over into the middle seat, leaning into Ant as he buckled himself in again. Grinning affectionately, Ant awkwardly pulled his arm out from underneath Dec and placed it around his shoulders, drawing him closer in a little side hug. "Feeling cuddly this morning, eh?" he teased, while Dec pouted grumpily at him before a small smile curved his lips. "Only got about 4 hours' sleep last night," Dec whined, leaning his head onto Ant's shoulder and closing his eyes, muttering, "Bloody NTAs." Ant chuckled lightly, gently resting his head on top of Dec's. Really, Ant thought, Declan was so very predictable, always getting so worked up about things. He couldn't deny the fact that he himself had had trouble sleeping last night – he'd gotten about 5 hours' sleep – but he'd always struggled with insomnia, so that was nothing new for him. "It's all gonna be just fine, Dec," Ant whispered, tilting his head slightly to press a gentle kiss to Dec's tousled hair. They leaned against each other in comfortable silence the rest of the journey, just enjoying the warmth and comfort they found in each other's presence. As they climbed out of the car and their day officially began, both steeled themselves for what was going to a very, very long day.

                                                       ~~~

Meetings over, Ant and Dec were in the London Palladium, readying themselves to go on stage to open the day's first audition session. Entering to rapturous applause – they both still got a bit choked up when the crowd went wild every time they went on stage – the boys did their usual spiel about how the audition process worked, before beginning the judges' introductions. David Walliams was first, acting as camp as ever, running onto the stage and doing his signature high-kick routine that seemed to have become his trademark move this series. The boys started joking around with David, just like they normally did. It was all going so well until David started pretending to interview them: "Are you a bit nervous because it's the NTAs today, or are you excited?" Ant jutted his jaw out slightly in exasperation. He had really hoped no one was going to mention the NTAs unless it was absolutely necessary – like something to do with the live video links later – but now David had ruined that hope. Quickly taking the reins on answering this question with what he hoped was a nonchalant, "We're a little nervous, a little nervous," Ant turned to Dec and met his gaze for a brief moment, noting the way Dec was shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Dec clearly wanted nothing to do with this question, although he added his own nervous comment as Ant continued, "You always get nervous in the NTAs." Turning back towards the judge, Ant swiftly moved the conversation along by directing the same question back at David. Behind him, Dec felt his stress level skyrocketing again. Licking his lips nervously, Dec swallowed down the massive ball of anxiety that was clawing its way up his throat. He greatly appreciated Ant taking the lead on this, as just the mention of the NTAs had turned him into a quivering ball of jelly, and the last thing they needed was for someone to video this and have the tabloids pick it up. They'd be sure to run a story about them having a nervous breakdown on stage or something ridiculous like that. Although, come to think of it, maybe that headline wasn't so ridiculous after all....

                                                         ~~~

It was now mid-afternoon, and auditions were in full swing. Ant and Dec were both a little bit tetchy – not with each other, mind, only with those around them – and their exhaustion was more than obvious. Today had been the longest day ever – or so it seemed – yet it was still 4 hours before the awards ceremony even began at the O2. The boys knew they were going to be on standby for a live video link that evening, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Cameras would be trained on the judges' desk later that day, too, just in case David (or Simon) won the Best TV Judge award. It would be an interesting evening if David managed to beat Simon yet again, that's for sure! Dec let out a tired sigh as he sunk down onto his stool at the side of the stage, absentmindedly reaching into an open crisp packet being proffered to him by Ant, who was sat next to him. They were on a brief break during auditions, so they were taking the opportunity to grab a quick snack and rest their weary bodies while they had the chance. Dec studied Ant's face, taking in every line, every crease, the way his eyebrows quirked when he got another text from Anne-Marie – clearly she'd said something funny, as the corners of his mouth turned up and a small chuckle erupted from his lips. Honestly, Dec could spend all day staring at Ant. He could read his every expression, could almost know what he was thinking without Ant having to say a single word. He knew Ant was the same with him – they almost knew each other too well, at times.

Ant suddenly looked up at Dec, catching him staring at him. Dec gave him a sheepish smile and giggled as Ant cheekily raised an eyebrow at him. "Sorry, was miles away," Dec murmured, while Ant affectionately rolled his eyes at him and shook his head before checking his watch. The day was going so slowly. At least there were only a couple minutes left of their break, and then it was back to work again. But even that wasn't much help, as the auditions were seeming to take forever today, and quite a few of them had been rubbish so far. Ant wearily shook his head again and watched as Dec stood and stretched his arms out above his head, yawning widely. Ant knew Dec was bricking it about the NTAs – they both were, to be honest – but that it was best not to mention it right now. They were both trying to ignore it for as long as possible, although he knew they would probably end up having a little heart-to-heart about it nearer to the time. This meant a lot to them this year – albeit for slightly different reasons – and he sincerely hoped it didn't turn out to be a complete disaster. They both needed something positive after the year they'd had.

                                                         ~~~

The time was 7:30pm. The NTAs were beginning. Ant glanced over at Dec to see him staring in horror at the analog display on his Apple Watch. Reaching out towards him, Ant lightly grasped Dec's wrist, squeezing gently in an attempt to break him out of his thoughts. The last thing they needed right now was for Dec to have a panic attack. Dec's eyes met his, panic written all over his face, his green-blue eyes holding a strange sort of overwhelming trepidation. Ant could feel Dec's hand shaking as he pulled Dec towards him, wrapping him up in a tender hug. There was an act on stage right now, but if he was honest, they were absolute rubbish, and likely wouldn't make it to the screen – not even on BGMT. It was definitely time to have their little talk, he couldn't bear to watch Dec falling apart in front of him. Quietly wrapping an arm around Dec's shoulders, Ant guided him through the corridors towards their dressing room, despite Dec's weak protests that he was fine, and, really, they should be in the wings doing their job.

Closing the door behind them, Ant turned to face Dec, holding him at arm's length, lovingly rubbing his right thumb over Dec's shoulder joint in a comforting manner. "Now listen to me, Dec," Ant started, "Even if we lose all of the awards we're nominated for tonight, it doesn't reflect on you or all your hard work. I know I'm not the most popular person in the country right now, so if we lose, it's all down to me. Nowt to do with you or...." Ant was abruptly interrupted in the middle of what he thought was a reassuring speech by Dec, who had fury in his eyes. "Don't you dare say that! If we lose tonight, we lose together. It's Ant and Dec, remember? We win together, we lose together, simple as! You don't deserve any of this, I hate people for hating you, it's just so unfair. Yeah, you messed up, but you don't deserve to suffer for it the rest of your life!" As Dec's voice faltered and one of the tears that had been steadily gathering in his eyes made its way down his face, Ant automatically reached out and wiped it away, despite his shock at the heat of Dec's words. Ant felt his own emotions bubbling to the surface at the fierce protectiveness in Dec's voice as he continued, "You deserve to win, too, Ant. You might not have been on the telly a whole lot last year, but you worked hard. I could not be more proud of all that you've achieved in the past 10 months. We are in this together, and don't you ever forget that." Ant stood in stunned silence for a moment, tears silently running down his cheeks. Dec gazed into Ant's eyes, his own brimming with yet more unshed tears, a look of unspeakable love shining out at Ant, making its way deep into his heart. Wordlessly, Ant embraced Dec, the love and respect he had for the smaller man overwhelming him, forcing him into silence. They stood together like that for a long minute, just holding each other close and giving the other the reassurance he needed to face whatever might come tonight.

Eventually, they drew away from each other, looking into each other's eyes as Ant finally found his voice. In the end, though, all he could choke out around the lump in his throat was, "Thank you," those two words conveying everything else he was too emotional to say. Dec seemed a bit more in control of himself now, no longer panicky – their talk and long hug clearly having helped to ground him – as he simply pulled Ant close again and enveloped him in a loving embrace, whispering a fond, "I'm so proud of you, Ant," into his ear before walking to the en suite to wash away the evidence of his tears. Having made themselves presentable for the camera again – they both were going to need some touch ups on their makeup, that's for sure – the boys walked in silence to their area at the side of the stage. A couple of acts had come and gone in their absence, but neither really cared. They had needed that time together, those intimate moments of frankness with each other, in order to get through the remainder of this so far very draining day. Dec checked his watch again, noting the interminably slow march of time with a tired sigh before feeling a nudge on his shoulder – Ant was staring at him in amusement, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in mock exasperation at Dec's impatience.

                                                           ~~~

The moment of truth had finally arrived. Dec felt like he was going to either throw up or faint, probably both. He was greatly regretting the ham and cheese sandwich he had decided to munch on earlier to try to calm his nerves – he was always prone to stress eating at times like these, but then, so was Ant. Speaking of Ant, Dec raised his eyes to take in Ant's expression. Yes, he was obviously nervous, but his face wore a sort of resigned stoicism that was so unlike the Ant he knew. It was obvious Ant didn't expect them to win tonight, and Dec could tell that, despite his stern lecture earlier, Ant was already blaming himself for their loss. If he was honest, Dec didn't expect them to win, either. He managed to catch Ant's eyes, seeing his own dread reflected back at him. Dec tried to give Ant a reassuring smile, but all he could muster was a slight quirking up of one side of his mouth. Their shows had taken home the gongs in the categories they were nominated for, but those were their shows, not they themselves. Hilarity had ensued earlier in the evening when David had won Best TV Judge yet again, with Simon throwing a hissy fit that had the boys in hysterics and helped to distract them from their nerves. But now it was time for their category.

They got into position on stage, facing the camera that seemed far too close and intimidating, before turning to stare at the massive London Palladium screen as the O2 Arena appeared and Dermot O'Leary introduced Ant Middleton to present the award. Dec's breath caught in his throat as the nausea threatened to overwhelm him again, his legs feeling wobbly and his palms sweating profusely as his mouth became unbearably dry. He swayed on his feet for a moment as his mind went dizzy, before a calm, familiar hand reached out and steadied him, giving a small squeeze before letting go again. Dec glanced over at Ant as Ant Middleton messed around with Dermot, noting how the pulse in Ant's neck was racing and his chest shallowly rose and fell at a rapidly increasing rate as his nerves intensified. Dec called out a quiet, "Ant," snapping Ant out of his panicked state and bringing him back down to earth. They both turned back to the screen as they heard Holly Willoughby's name being called out, Dec wincing as he and Holly appeared on screen together, doing a link for I'm a Celebrity.... He was surprised to hear Ant chuckling beside him, a proud grin on his face as he watched Dec being his amazing, entertaining self. Ant shared a look with Dec as Holly's VT ended and Bradley Walsh's began, their eyes locking for a few seconds in silent solidarity before they turned back to the screen. Finally, all of the nominees had been read out and it was time to announce the winner.

Dec's heart was in his throat, he felt like he couldn't breathe, dizziness and nausea threatening to overwhelm him. Ant wasn't much better next to him, although he was better at hiding his distress, seeming relatively calm on the outside now that the moment of truth had arrived. They turned away from the screen, facing the camera instead, Dec angled slightly towards Ant – Ant was his lifeline right now, he needed to see him, couldn't bear to look at the camera...."And the National Television Award goes to..." Ant Middleton's voice rang through the Palladium, pausing for a moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity. Through the haze of panic and nerves, Dec felt Ant's hand land on his shoulder, holding him securely as they awaited their fate.

"...ANT AND DEC!"

As the crowd went wild, Dec nearly collapsed in shock, gripping desperately onto his knees, using them as crutches to stay upright as his mind reeled. They had won?!?!? After everything that had happened over the past year, they still had won? The public still loved them, trusted them enough that they voted for them? He vaguely felt Ant's weight on top of him as Ant laid his arms on Dec's shoulders, leaning his forehead against his arm as they stood there numbly, shocked to the core. That brief moment of contact was enough to shake Dec out of his dazed stupor, and the next moment he heard Ant speaking into his microphone in a thoroughly shocked voice, "Oh, wow....Oh, wow."

Oh, right, they had to do a speech now, they were on camera! Dec was in no shape to speak, however, his throat closing in on itself yet again, except this time it was due to a massive lump forming as he felt tears coming to his eyes. Their incredulous gaze met for a moment and they shared a relieved smile before hugging briefly, Dec's hand intimately wrapping around the back of Ant's neck as his heart swelled with love and pride for the man holding him, and gratitude towards the great British public. Sensing Dec was too overwhelmed to say anything, Ant – always the calmer of the two when it came to situations like this – began to speak. He honestly didn't know what to say, the speech he had rehearsed in case they won having been erased from his mind as soon as their names were called out. He stumbled through the first few sentences, his mind racing as he tried to form coherent sentences. Suddenly the Palladium's screen flashed beside them, and he and Dec turned around in surprise to see Simon having pressed his Golden Buzzer for him. But what really caught their attention again was the audience – the whole place was on its feet, including the judges, giving them a standing ovation. It was all so overwhelming.

As Ant faintly became aware of Dec beside him, desperately trying to control his emotions, part of the speech he had so carefully prepared came rushing back to him. He and Dec had had this conversation weeks ago when the voting shortlist was released, and although Ant knew Dec didn't agree with him on this, he was going to go ahead and do it anyway. He was going to dedicate the award to Dec. As soon as Ant started talking about how he didn't feel he could accept the award this year, Dec knew what he was planning. The emotions he had fought so hard to push down so that he wouldn't start sobbing on live telly came flooding back in as Ant turned towards him. "The one reason we've won the award this year is because of this guy." Ant reached out, affectionately pressing his palm to the side of Dec's face before wrapping his hand around the side of Dec's neck, squeezing warmly before continuing, "His hard work, dedication, wit, funniness, and being the best mate there is out there. I love you, man. Well done."

It was all Dec could do to not break down right then and there. Desperately swallowing down the lump in his throat, his eyes met Ant's as Dec replied, "I love you," lunging at Ant and tightly wrapping his arms around him as the love he had for this man nearly burst his heart. Ant closed his eyes, savoring the hug – and feeling deeply grateful that he had been able to give Declan the recognition he so deserved live in front of the nation – holding Dec in a strong embrace. Neither of them wanted that hug to end, but the live link was still running, and Dec still hadn't said a single word. He somehow managed to get through his half of the speech, with an arm wrapped around Ant's shoulders for most of it, just needing that physical contact to keep him from losing his battle against his emotions. They finally signed off with a bit of a cheeky joke aimed at Dermot for his foolish comments regarding them winning the award this year, and yet more thank yous to the public who had voted for them. As the cameras switched off, Dec suddenly realized his legs had turned to jelly. He collapsed onto the stage dramatically – he was still Declan the show-off, after all – and closed his eyes. Ant kneeled beside him, both still unable to comprehend what had just happened. They had just won the award for the 18th time!!! The tears finally broke free as reality sunk in, but Dec was unashamed as he repeatedly wiped tears away while the judges congratulated them. He and Ant were both in a state of shock, this was not what they expected to happen tonight, but they were more than happy to be proven so completely wrong.

The judges eventually went back to their seats, leaving Ant and Dec to make their way back to the wings as preparations began for the next act of the night to come on stage. They gazed at each other for a moment in dazed silence, tears shining in their eyes, before Dec completely broke down, relieved sobs coming thick and fast as he stood rooted to the spot, overcome with emotion. As he felt loving arms surround him in a tight embrace, he haltingly whispered into Ant's ear in a trembling voice, "Thank you, Ant. I love you." As they held each other close, letting out all of the emotions of the day, they knew one thing: This day marked a new beginning in their life. And as long as they were together, no one could ever bring them down. All they needed was each other. And that meant more than words could ever tell.

[decandantfics]

Only One Will Do

Dec sighed tiredly as he quickly made his way into the massage parlour. He knew paparazzi were lurking pretty much everywhere he went these days, and he really didn't want them to snap him here. I'm a Celebrity...Get Me out of Here! 2018 was drawing to a close – only a few more episodes remained, and Dec was utterly exhausted. Yes, the series had definitely been a success so far – the press were branding it a triumph, even – with the public falling in love with Harry Redknapp (surely he was the clear winner – no one else stood a chance!) and seeming to enjoy Dec's repartee with Holly. But no matter how successful the series had been, it had taken its toll on Dec. He felt utterly done in, emotionally and physically. This series was always tough due to the irregular schedule requiring a ridiculously early start to the day and a very early bedtime.

It always took a while to adjust to the sleeping schedule – never mind recover from the jet lag – and this year had been no different. In fact, it had been much, much worse than usual. Not only had Dec and Ali's baby daughter, Isla, come along with them this year, but Dec had also had to cope with the stress and worry of forging a new onscreen partnership. Now, Dec loved Isla dearly – more than words could tell – but her sleeping schedule left much to be desired. Of course, of course, she had to take after her dad when it came to her personality, Dec thought to himself. His mam had always told him how much he fussed and cried as a baby, and would almost never sleep through the night. Well, surprise, surprise, Isla was exactly the same. Ali, bless her, always took the night shift with Isla to try to let her husband get the rest he so desperately needed during the series, but a 3-month old screaming in the middle of the night is quite difficult, if not impossible, to sleep through. So here Dec was, at a massage parlour, because Ali said he looked tense and needed to relax. Truthfully, Dec was in desperate need of a massage – he had been suffering from severe tension headaches over the past few weeks, brought on by stress and fatigue, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders were unbearably tense. Not that he would ever admit it to Ali.

As he absentmindedly changed and lay face down on the massage table, Dec let out another long sigh, trying not to give in to his mind's tendency to wander onto emotional territory. It was never really a good idea for him to be left alone with his thoughts these days. The massage therapist began working gently on his scalp – Dec had decided to be honest on the client questionnaire in the hopes of getting some relief – slowly digging in and finding pressure points that began to ease his headache. As the therapist moved on to his neck and shoulders, Dec found himself beginning to relax as the tension he had been holding for so long began to ease. His relief was short-lived, however, as his mind suddenly decided that relaxation really shouldn't be on the cards for today. Who knows why, but he abruptly found himself thinking about the days leading up to the first episode of IAC this year. He was so, so nervous about working with someone other than Ant, even though it was an old friend in the form of Holly Willoughby. And strangely, he felt guilty in a way – like he was cheating on Ant, even, which of course sounded utterly ridiculous as soon as he thought it, but there it was.

Never in his professional life had he considered working with anyone other than Ant – all of their ideas were for the two of them, and neither one ever felt the desire to move away from the partnership and find work elsewhere. He and Ant had discussed the decision for Ant to take the rest of the year off at great length, and at the end of the day, it really did just make so much more sense for Ant to wait to come back until BGT in 2019. To be honest, it was still a bit surreal that Ant actually was coming back at all, as it had all seemed so hopeless and entirely impossible only a few short months ago. But still, still, Dec felt guilty about partnering with Holly. This odd feeling of betrayal was encouraged in no small part by the press crowing every chance they got that the public didn't actually want Ant back – they wanted Holly to partner with Dec permanently on IAC, or so the press claimed. And then the rumors started that ITV were considering axing Ant from IAC, or perhaps would bring Holly back and have three presenters on the show. I mean, seriously, how would that even work?

Dec could feel himself getting worked up, the tension and anger rising in his body as all of the horrid stories run by the tabloids over the past 9 months came flooding back into his mind. It was basically impossible to avoid the headlines, no matter how hard he tried, and some of them really, really hurt. He tried desperately to stop his mind's gleeful rush back through the world of pain he had endured, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

One headline in particular came crashing into his mind, taunting him and causing barbed wire to wrap around his heart: "Joyous Declan Donnelly laughs his face off in Florida as best mate Ant McPartlin languishes in rehab." He remembered that night in Florida so well. The stress and sleepless nights had been relentlessly wearing him down, and now with jet lag on top of that, Dec was not at his best. Worse than that, he couldn't stop thinking – and worrying – about Ant. Ant was in hospital, receiving the best of care, but his court date was only a little over a week away. He couldn't bear the thought of Ant having to go to court and face the sea of hateful media who would surely pounce on him the moment he arrived. And what would the outcome be? This whole situation was such a nightmare, it still didn't feel real. Thankfully, the hearing had been postponed until 16 April rather than taking place on the 4th – yesterday – allowing Dec to finish the series of SNT and then disappear on holiday before the media storm took place. Not that it really mattered, given that there were even paparazzi following him around in Florida now – he thought surely he might get a little respite from their constant stalking while he was in the States, but clearly he had assumed wrong.

He was sitting outside at a restaurant with a few members of their production and management teams, halfheartedly trying to follow their conversation, but not really managing to pay attention. He was miles away, thinking about Ant and this whole mess they found themselves in. How could he not have realized that Ant was on the brink of self-destruction? Deep down inside, he knew that he knew something was wrong with Ant, but he had trusted Ant to tell him if something was seriously wrong. To be fair, they had had a few conversations about how Ant was doing - and they had established the fact that Ant was struggling - but their talks were never very productive, and they were so incredibly busy with the show that it was hard to find time to have a proper conversation about anything outside of work. But Dec knew in his heart that something was off with Ant – Ant had even admitted to him that he didn't "feel right" about a week before it happened – and he wished more than anything that he had been able to prevent it from happening.

This was such a nightmare – every day, he still woke up hoping it had all been a bad dream, but there it was again, reality staring him down and making his life so unbelievably dark and hopeless. He knew he needed help, there was no denying that, but he was completely swamped in work and did not have the time or energy to seek counseling. There was no doubt in his mind that as soon as he got back from his holiday with Ali, she would send him off to his psychotherapist. He didn't like to admit it to anyone, but he had needed help multiple times over the years to cope with various issues in his life. Counseling always helped –just someone independent to talk to, who wouldn't judge him for his insecurities and emotional turmoil. To be able to unload all of his worries and pain onto an understanding person who wasn't a part of their day-to-day life was what helped the most when he was feeling overwhelmed. And boy, oh boy, did he need counseling now. He didn't know how to deal with the endless swirl of emotions inside of him – despair, hopelessness, grief, loneliness, helplessness....The rest of the world might not notice it – in fact, he was really hoping he had perfected his professional fake smile enough that people wouldn't notice his pain – but Declan Donnelly was falling apart inside.

His train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Stephen Mulhern at their table. Stephen looked excited, eager even, and motioned with his head for Dec to follow him. Reluctantly, Dec stood and tiredly ambled behind Stephen, who seemed anxious to get him away from the rest of the customers at the restaurant's outside tables. Finally, they reached a somewhat secluded spot next to the building, and Stephen launched into a hilarious anecdote of something that had happened on his and Scarlett's flight to the States with the Place on the Plane winners. Stephen had a knack for telling a story in a very funny way, and for the first time since before Ant's accident, Dec found himself genuinely laughing. For a few precious minutes, the cloud over Dec's head lifted somewhat, and he found that he was able to smile without having to force it. His mirth didn't last long, however, as he soon spotted paparazzi hiding in the bushes bordering the restaurant's outside dining area. His laugh and smile immediately became more careful, guarded, and reality flooded back in again. Stephen hastily finished his story when Dec subtly indicated the presence of paparazzi, and they quickly parted, Dec ducking away towards the interior of the building with the excuse of needing the restroom, while Stephen made his back to their table to join the team.

For his part, Dec did actually need to use the restroom, but he needed the solitude it offered more. He slowly rested his palms on the lip of the sink, his head leaning down dejectedly as the emotions rushed in yet again, crowding out the relief his brief moment of euphoria with Stephen had offered to his fractured mind. The truth was, he didn't know if he could cope with this, live with this nightmare his life had become. It seemed there was always someone stalking him, invading his privacy, capturing his moments of misery to sell to the tabloids for the next day's "news." It was bad enough having to face the pain and loss he was feeling at being wrenched away from Ant, but as a very private man, it was extremely unsettling to never feel like he could let his guard down. He hated to think how long the paparazzi had been hiding out there – did they get photos of him while he was dwelling on his misery? His face must have been a picture. A deep sigh escaped him as a lone tear rolled down his cheek. He hated this, he was reaching the end of his tether, but there was no end in sight. As soon as his short break with Ali was over, he would be confronted with the problem of the BGT live shows. And after those were out of the way – he shuddered to think about having to do 6 shows in the space of one week, all on his own – then he would have a bit of time off. But still, I'm a Celebrity... would be hanging over his head.... Another tear rolled down his cheek. This was undoubtedly the worst time of his life, and he honestly wasn't sure if he would make it through....

Startled out of his distressing reverie by the sound of his own choked-off sob, Dec became vaguely aware of the massage therapist quietly asking him if he was all right. It was only then that Dec realized he was crying, the pain and hopelessness of the year bearing down on him and breaking him into a million pieces once again. So much for a relaxing massage, he mused bitterly, as he attempted to calm himself down using the breathing technique taught to him by his psychotherapist. Dec always became more emotional when he was overtired, and now was no exception. The massage therapist was now silently working out the knots and trigger points in his lower back, clearly resigned to just letting Dec empty his emotions in silence with no explanation.

Although the massage felt heavenly, Dec realized that what he really needed right now, more than anything else, was Ant. They had been keeping in touch over the past few weeks while he was away, and it definitely helped to ease the loneliness and heartache at being separated yet again. They had spent loads of time together in the weeks before Dec left for Australia, both feeling the need to spend as much time in each other's company as possible given their imminent separation. Dec tried to play it down to Ali, but he missed Ant terribly here in Oz. Every day there were never ending reminders of Ant's absence. Whether it was amusing happenings in the IAC camp that he knew Ant would find hilarious (they never talked about the show during their chats – it was too painful for both of them), or simple things like going to the beach and being reminded of the fun times they had had there over the years. He hadn't played any golf at all this series. He couldn't bear the thought of frequenting the same golf courses they had played at for years without Ant by his side. Reminders of Ant were everywhere, and it was so very hard to just pretend that he was okay when he was, in fact, hurting inside.

Mercifully, the massage was close to being over now, with the therapist doing some reflexology and working some acupressure points on his feet. Clearly, they had caught on to the fact that Dec was feeling emotional – however did they guess that? – and were trying to help balance his energy before ending the session. By the time they were finished, Dec had forced a smile back onto his face and thanked them profusely for the wonderful massage. He briefly wondered if he should apologize for his little breakdown, but then decided against it – he really didn't feel like answering any of the questions that might arise from even acknowledging it had happened.

After getting dressed and paying for the service (giving the therapist a generous tip in the hope that they wouldn't break privacy laws and sell the story of "Declan Donnelly Breaks Down During Massage" to the tabloids), Dec emerged back into the bright sunlight of Australia, squinting against the light. His obvious tiredness hadn't dissipated at all – if anything, it had been worsened by his emotional trip down a very unpleasant memory lane – and his headache had actually intensified in the end, rather than getting better. And then Dec spotted him – a paparazzo snapping away, recording Dec's every move for all the world to see. It had come to this – he couldn't even go for a massage without the world knowing about it.

He felt so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that he couldn't be bothered to school his expression into one of stoic indifference or to paste a fake smile onto his face. He stared sadly at the ground, completely lost in his own depressing thoughts, as he walked towards the café where Ali said she would be waiting for him with friends. He really didn't want to go to the café and hang out with members of their team. There was only one thing he wanted – no, needed – right now, and that was a long chat on Skype with Ant. He missed him so, so much, and even though they were thousands of miles apart, it always comforted him to hear Ant's voice and see his smiling face. Dec was more excited than he would ever admit that the series was almost over. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the UK, despite the miserable weather there, because being back home would mean he could spend time with Ant.

Finally arriving at the café, he was annoyed to notice that the lone paparazzo had followed him the whole way there, and was busily snapping yet more photos of Dec, his wife, and their friends. Fury at the man's utter lack of respect coiled deep inside him, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Ali looked up at Dec with a soft smile which quickly turned sad and then concerned as she noted the still-obvious lines of tension and exhaustion on his face. Maybe a massage hadn't been as big a help as she had hoped? Their eyes met, and she immediately realized what he was pleading with her for with those big, green-blue puppy eyes of his. Unable to deny him anything after the year he'd had, Ali suggested that maybe she needed a nap after a long night up with Isla, so she and Dec were going to head back to their apartment. Dec smiled at her gratefully as she stood and took his hand as they wandered back to their Australian home. They walked in silence, no words needed as both were lost in their thoughts.

Ali was still worried about Dec – there was no doubt the psychotherapy had helped him to cope – but she had still noticed how his face would sometimes cloud over with an expression that she could only describe as unbearable sadness. She missed Ant, too, of course, having known him just as long as she had known Dec, but, truthfully, she had everything she needed right here: Dec and Isla made up her world and she was never happier than when she was spending time with them. But she knew it was different for Dec - even after nearly 20 years of knowing the boys, she still found herself marveling at their deep bond with each other. Watching them together was fascinating – all of their unspoken communication through glances and soft touches telling more than words ever could just how deep their love for and understanding of each other was. And she knew just by the look in Dec's eyes what he was hankering for right now: Ant.

Eventually, they reached their apartment, and Dec unlocked the door, holding it open for Ali to pass through. Once inside, he breathed a sigh of relief – finally, finally he could relax and let his guard down now that he was out of sight of any skulking paparazzi. It was only early afternoon – that day's bushtucker trial had ended early for once – so although it was a bit late back in the UK, Dec knew Ant would still be awake. He murmured to Ali that he was going to call Ant, and she replied with an equally quiet, understanding, "I know." This earned Ali an appreciative, affectionate peck on the lips as Dec smiled and moved into the lounge while Ali decided to actually take that nap she had mentioned earlier – their nanny was taking care of Isla for the afternoon to give them a break – and softly closed the bedroom door behind her. She suspected Dec might be joining her in her slumber later on – he was clearly exhausted – but wanted to give him as much privacy as possible for his chat with Ant.

An affectionate smile graced her lips as she settled down on the bed to the sound of Dec's laugh echoing in the lounge. Even a few rooms away, Ali could hear the genuine smile and happiness in his voice as he chatted away to his best friend. She shook her head in amusement as her eyes closed. Not many women would be as understanding of their husband being so utterly interdependent with his best mate, but after so many years of working with the boys, she understood they could never be truly happy without each other. Their love for each other knew no bounds, and rather than feeling jealous of her husband's affections, Ali fell into a light slumber basking in the love and happiness she could feel emanating from their lounge.

About an hour later, Dec quietly entered their bedroom, tip toeing over to the bed and softly wrapping himself around Ali, pressing a chaste kiss to her neck as she continued to sleep soundly. He let out a contented sigh, a small smile on his face as he reflected on the conversation he had just had with Ant. His mind had been put at ease with the realization that his Ant, the one he had lost for a couple of years, was finally back. Funnily, he felt more relaxed now than he had at any point during that disastrous massage, as the echo of Ant's hearty laughter rang in his ears. With Ant's loving smile and reassuring words spreading warmth through him and filling a cherished spot within his heart, Dec finally fell into a deep, restful sleep, dreaming of a future with Ant that was brighter than ever before.

[decandantfics]

Fight the World for You

Dec swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. This all felt so surreal, it was like he was there but not actually there – as if it was a bad dream he couldn't wake up from. As he stood at the top of the stairs, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the other side of ITV's Studio 1 where his partner would normally be standing – waiting to run down the stairs together during rehearsals for this week's Saturday Night Takeaway. His heart clenched at the empty space, and he felt tears coming to his eyes. Furiously, Dec tried to control his emotions and focus on the task at hand – there was a show to do, and it had to be perfect. It felt like the whole world was watching him this week, judging him, and he had never been more scared in his life. He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by Chris Power, the director, calling everyone to attention as rehearsals officially began. The music started, and Dec forced his legs to move as he numbly made his way down the stairs towards the stage. As he ran onto the stage, he was again hit by the emptiness of the room. He felt all alone, even though there were at least a couple dozen members of the crew and production team milling around, making adjustments to lighting, camera angles, etc. As the music stopped and the autocue started running, it all became too much for Dec.

                                                           ~~~

He had tried all morning to keep his emotions in check. The script meeting had been horrific, as everyone tried to come up with the best way to address Ant's absence. Everyone was trying their best to act as if everything was normal, but it was just so very awkward. No one seemed to know how to act around Dec, and he felt as if they were all tip toeing around him, afraid to say anything lest he shatter in front of their very eyes. Honestly, he didn't know which was worse – confronting the very painful reality head on, or trying to ignore it and pretend everything was okay. In the end, he decided trying to ignore it was the best option – one well-meaning crew member had told him how sorry they were about what had happened and that they hoped he and Ant were okay. It was all he could do to keep from breaking down. The only response he could muster was a curt nod – studiously avoiding their gaze - and then walking swiftly away so that they wouldn't see his pain-filled eyes brimming with tears.

If he was honest, the past two weeks had been the worst of his life. His world fell apart when his father died in 2011, but he had had so much support from those closest to him that he was able to get through it, no matter how painful it was. But now, he felt all alone. Yes, his family and friends were trying to buoy him up, calling, texting, and just attempting to support him as best they could. Ali had been amazing – so patient and loving, letting him cry bitterly on her chest, comforting him and reassuring him as his whole world fell apart. The only bright spot in his life right now was his baby – their baby – but even that had been partly ruined for him by the press outing their secret. He had gone out to run some errands and had stopped to order a takeaway to be delivered to their home, as Ali wasn't feeling great and neither of them felt like cooking (let's face it, he'd gotten a bit more domesticated since Ali came into his life, but he still couldn't be trusted alone in the kitchen). When he arrived home and made his way through the crowd of paparazzi stationed outside his home – whatever happened to privacy?! – they were shouting something at him that made his blood run cold. "Is it true – is your wife pregnant?" The pictures in the paper the next day showed him looking slightly incredulous, bewildered, angry – who had outed them, was nothing sacred these days? He and Ali had so wanted to keep their baby news a secret for as long as possible. To have their privacy invaded, to be denied the privilege of making this precious announcement to the world in their own time when they were ready – this was the height of cruelty. But, he bitterly thought to himself, what are the press if not cruel. He and Ant had always had a fairly good relationship with the press – they stayed out of trouble for the most part, and although there had been a few exceptions over the years when the press had made their lives hell, they weren't really bothered by paps or brutal tabloid "journalists." As soon as Ant's accident happened, though, that had all changed. Probably forever, Dec suspected. Their entire lives were in limbo right now – he honestly didn't expect either of them would have a career for very much longer. Actually, if the vicious voices of self-doubt in his mind were to be believed, neither of them would have a career after tonight's show.

Dec had always suffered with anxiety and insecurity – he had even described himself as "neurotic, insecure, and self-obsessed" in their autobiography, and with good reason. He would quite frequently suffer from anxiety dreams in the lead-up to a new series of Takeaway, which would result in sleepless nights when the latent worry in his mind took hold of him and made his mind race with everything that could potentially go wrong on the night. But through the years, the one thing he could always rely on to help relieve his nerves, to make him believe in himself, was Ant. Ant was always there for him – sometimes, Dec thought, Ant believed in him too much, almost to the point of blind belief – and could always snap him out of his obsessive worrying with a warm hug and some calm words of wisdom and reassurance. But now, now he was all on his own. Ant was back in rehab, and all communication with him was cut off. Again. 2017's absence had been hard enough on Dec, but then it was different. Ant had the full support of the majority of the public, but most importantly, they were sort of off work at the time. Yes, there were some production meetings and the like for I'm a Celebrity... and SNT, but Dec was mostly able to cope with those on his own fairly well, with the knowledge that Ant was getting better and would be back in time for IAC. This was a whole different kettle of fish. Ant was suddenly ripped completely out of his life, and Dec was abruptly thrust into the spotlight, expected to step up to the plate and carry on as if everything was normal. Nothing was normal. His psyche was in tatters, his confidence had completely vanished, and the level of pressure and expectation being heaped on his shoulders was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could barely sleep, he merely picked at his food, and his nerves were on edge. Someone had accidentally dropped a microphone onto the stage with a clatter earlier, and he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn't think straight – the combination of exhaustion and nerves further damaging his fractured mind. Stress was also taking its toll – he felt tetchy, like he could snap at any minute – and his face wore the look of someone who was completely broken inside. He was trying to put a brave face on, even trying to crack a few jokes with the crew to raise morale, but the smile never reached his eyes and his laugh sounded horribly forced, even to his own ears. There was no way he was going to get through the show tonight, he told himself. He wasn't capable of doing this all by himself. He was mad for even thinking he could do this, for making the decision to go ahead with these final two shows of the series. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back out again.

                                                          ~~~

Dec was wrenched from his morbid thoughts as he stepped onto his mark and the autocue started running. He opened his mouth to start reading his lines, only to be stopped immediately by Chris. Inwardly, Chris was cringing at what he was going to have to point out to Dec. There was no tactful way of putting this, really. "Dec," Chris said gently, "You're too far to the right of the stage for the camera. Your mark is in the center here, see?" The carefully schooled, stoic expression Dec had been trying so desperately to maintain all morning – all week, in fact – slowly crumbled. He looked over to his right, at the empty space beside him, at the mark that was placed where Ant should be stood beside him. His breath caught in his throat, he felt like someone was choking him, squeezing the life out of him. His vision blurred, his heart painfully clenched and then started racing, the fight or flight instinct kicking in. He knew he had to get out of there before he lost his last shred of dignity. He breathed out a choked, "I need a minute," to Chris, and sprinted off the stage and to his – their – dressing room.

Locking the door behind him, he collapsed onto the sofa, broken sobs clawing their way out of his throat. This was like no other pain he had ever experienced. He knew he had sometimes taken his friendship with Ant and the incredible bond they shared for granted, but it had never really occurred to him that it might all disappear some day. That Ant wouldn't always be by his side, that they could be torn apart so cruelly by life and forced to live without each other. True, Ant was still alive – albeit not very well, mentally or physically – but Dec felt totally isolated and removed from himself. Ant had given him his blessing to carry on and present the final two shows solo – he had even tried to be supportive, despite what a mess he was emotionally and psychologically – and told Dec that he had every faith in him and that he could do this. Dec knew he was far too easy to read for Ant – they had known each other for 29 years, after all – and even though he had tried not to show his anxiety at the prospect of going solo, it was painfully obvious to Ant.

Oh, Ant. Even just thinking about him hurt. There was a constant ache in his heart that just wouldn't go away. He wanted so badly to protect him from everything he was facing right now, but at the same time he was incredibly angry at Ant for having done what he'd done. Never in a million years had he thought this would happen. This was not the Ant he knew, the Ant he'd spent 29 years with. And that was the one thing that kept him going.

Ant knew he had messed up big time, and he had made it clear to Dec that he was determined to make it right and finally get better, once and for all. No more lies, no more secrets, it was time to face his demons and shake them off. Dec wanted nothing more than for Ant to be able to come back and be by his side again, although the prospect of that ever happening seemed very far away at this point in time. He had tearfully told Ant that he would give everything up if Ant could just be happy again. Their career meant nothing compared to their friendship. He loved his job, loved being on the telly and doing everything they do, but if it was a choice between Ant and their career, he would always choose Ant.

Words could not describe the depth of his love for Ant. It actually scared him how much he loved Ant and needed him in his life. He could not contemplate a world without Ant, it would kill him...His heart stopped for a moment. He furiously shook his head, as sobs continued to wrench themselves out of his being, forcing down the thought that had come to mind. Ant was in hospital, he was being watched and cared for. He wouldn't do anything like that, he knew people loved him, right? He knew Dec loved him more than anything, surely he would never leave him alone in the world....He forced the thought out of his mind. There was still a show to rehearse, even if he was having a mental breakdown. He couldn't let everyone down – but more importantly, he couldn't let Ant down. He knew Ant loved their job, and he knew Ant was convinced his own career was over. Well, if he couldn't help Ant with the battle he was currently waging against his demons in rehab – truly the most helpless feeling in the world, being unable to help his one true friend fight the hardest battle of his life – there was still one thing he could do: save their career.

With that thought, he forced himself to take a deep breath. His sobs slowed down to a halt, and even though the ache in his chest didn't relent, he replaced the broken look on his face with his stoic mask of professionalism. But there was a difference now – there was an air of steely determination about him. He was going to make sure Ant still had a career to come back to, if and when he was ready. The world might try to bring them down, tear them apart, put them through untold heartache and pain, but he was more than ready to fight against the world for Ant. Ant is his world, and he would do anything for him. Slowly, Dec pulled himself together, steeling himself for what was to come. Standing up on wobbly legs, he walked to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, trying to rid himself of the red, blotchy look that would broadcast his breakdown to everyone. Having cleaned himself up as best he could, Dec resolutely unlocked his dressing room door and strode back to the studio. He still felt sick with fear every time he thought about going live to the nation that evening. He knew he would probably have at least a couple more panics and/or emotional breakdowns before the show tonight, but for now, he had to put his emotions aside and make sure this was the best show he had ever put on in his life. This was for Ant. He wasn't doing this for ITV, their sponsors, not even the fans anymore. This was about Ant now, and that made it the most important thing he had ever done. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to save their career and give Ant something to hold onto, something to give him hope that not all was lost. No one could stop him now.