Their parents died when Noel was 18, and Liam was 14. Tragedy, it had been. More than just for them. A ferry from England to Ireland sinking in minutes all because of some maintenance crew's lack of care before allowing the craft to sail. 55 people aboard, only 40 managing to make it home. Noel was left home to take care of a sick Liam, undergoing a seasonal flu while their parents traveled to visit family.

Noel had been glad, in a way. About their father dying. The old drunken bastard couldn't lay a hand on them any more. No more beatings and nights waking up in a cold sweat because you heard a much too loud creak on the staircase under the pressure of a work boot. The only sorry point was their mother being gone, too. God rest hee soul. All she ever wanted was to be there for her boys, and suffer alongside them. And now all was gone. Leaving two lads alone. Together.

Noel took custody of Liam at 19. Inherited their council house in Burnage. And their father Thomas' beat up Astra. Noel got off the dole and started working full time in some pub down the way, with the help of a friend. And Liam finished what school he could while they tried to make a life for themselves.

Only, that has its difficulties. Liam wasn't a normal lad. Hadn't ever been. Been diagnosed since around 8 with all sorts of mental shite going on in his head. Some of which Noel probably had going on as well, but never sought treatment for. Some all Liam's own. He saw things sometimes, Liam. Saw shapes where nothing existed. Spoke aloud with no one present. Was slow to learn concepts of much in school. Always in some special classes. Never quite had a handle on reality. And then, after their parents passed, he was deemed stunted. Not physically, he was a growing lad. But in his head, he got stuck in that time. Years on, he was still just little Liam, even when pushing 30 and nearly 6' tall. 13 forever. Sometimes younger, if some mood struck him that went back further. And Noel was there. To deal with all of it.

As best he could, really. Noel had known how to care for and coddle Liam since the lad was born. What his favorite activities and foods were, his little interests, what made him happy and mad and sad and sleepy. Little changed with their added years, besides it feeling a bit pesky to put up with such requests from a grown man. Cuddles and kisses and cartoons and weetabix. But Noel got used to it. And he didn't even lose his temper with Liam, much. Not like he had when they were younger.

Because Noel hadn't always been a good brother. He'd started off as one. And he was one, now. But for a bit, just before the death of their parents, Noel was in fact a very bad brother. Those rebellious teenage years. Ignored his baby brother often. And when he didn't, he treated him poorly. Bullying with hurtful language or physical aggression, the way older brother's do. And sometimes taking out the rage he had in him from their father's hands onto Liam, the poor lad. But Noel wasn't like that anymore. He tried not to be. Sometimes, though. Noel would slip up and fall back into old habits. Much to his own anguish and Liam's delight.