“He. Hurt. You.”

“No he didn’t.”

“I saw him.”

“I’m okay,” You heard yourself soothe, thumbs stroking over his jaw. “It’s okay. Everyone’s okay.”

"I'm not!" Kev wheezed, clutching at his throat, as he staggered from your room. "I'm not okay."

"Kev, wait, don't say anything to Dad," You called out, chasing after your brother. "He didn't mean—"

"He could've killed me, Aoife," Kev strangled out, as he stormed into his bedroom, still clutching his throat. "That psycho nearly killed me."

"But he didn't?" You offered lamely, only to receive a door slammed in your face for your troubles. "Dammit."

Shaking out the trembling hands, you drew in a steadying breath and hurried back to your room.

"Yeah, so Kev's beyond pissed." You slammed the door shut and glared at your rogue protector. "What did you that for, Joe? He's going to tell our parents and you're going to end up getting in trouble with Dad."

"Let him tell them," Was all Joey replied, as he crouched down and quietly loaded up all of his tools into his bag. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter," You argued, stalking towards the beautiful eejit. "You love working at the garage."

"Doesn't matter," Joey repeated, keeping his head down, as he filled his bag and zipped it shut.

“I’m sorry for causing you trouble.” Joey added, as he stood up and the the bag over his shoulder. "I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy."

"No, no, you're not walking out of here," You warned, hurrying to barricade your bedroom door and keep him in here with you. "We can sort this out."

"What's to sort, Molloy?" Joey said flatly. "I hit my boss's son. I think it's pretty clear that I'm done here."

"No, you're not done here. You're not even close to being done, here. So, just cool your jets and let me think about this," You ordered, shoving his chest, and feeling a swell of excitement when he let you walk him backwards.

Because let's face it, after the display he'd just put on, there was no way anyone could make this boy do anything he didn't want to do.

Walking Joey over to your bed, you pushed on his shoulders, and watched as he obligingly sank down on the mattress.*

"Why'd you do that, Joe?" You croaked out, standing in front of him, physically shaking from head to toe.

"Because he hurt you," Joey replied, looking up at you with the most lonesome expression I'd ever seen. In this moment, Joey Lynch looked like the quintessential lost boy. "Because he put his hands on you."

"But he's my brother, Joe," You heard yourself explain softly. "We were only messing. It was okay-fighting.”

Joey looked up at you like you were speaking a foreign language. "I don't...”

He blew out a ragged breath. “I fucked up.*

Nudging his legs open, you stepped closer. "Yeah, you kind of did, Joe."

You reached out and ruffled his blond hair, and then, unable to stop yourself, cupped his face between both hands, and looked down him.

"I thought he was..." Shaking his head, Joey let his head fall forward to rest against my stomach. "I just saw you on the ground and he was... and I just..."

The move was incredibly intimate, and you sucked in a sharp breath from the contact. "Fuck."

"I'm okay," You coaxed, unable or just plain unwilling to stand back and not comfort him. With trembling hands, you held his face to your stomach, and whispered, "You're okay."

He didn't respond, but he didn't pull away either, so you remained right there in your bedroom, with his cheek pressed to your belly and hands stroking his hair.

Finally, after what felt like an age, you felt the tension slowly leave his shoulders, and then his arms came around your waist.

"He hurt you," Joey croaked out. "You don't hit girls."