A/N - This is a six-part story - my first real attempt at a chaptered fic - and I'm not sure if it's actually any good or not. It was quite challenging to write, and I'm still hammering out parts I'm not happy with. But here's the first installment. I'll probably post at least one chapter a day, unless you guys want me to post it more quickly. Let me know in the comments! And apologies if it's absolute rubbish! 😂

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.