'You look done in, Ethan.'

Startled, he jolted upright, splashing hot coffee down his leg in doing so. He hissed with pain as Charlie ineffectually looked on, a strained expression distorting his features. The perks of sitting on a ward all night included easy access to trolleys of all types. Nurses and cleaners would often abandon them, never to return until daylight broke. Sometimes they'd leave the tea and snacks trolley, but often it was the cleaning trolley. Luckily for Ethan, this gave him instant access to a multitude of "cloths" - in this case, a tatty square of material that had more holes than it did cotton. He dabbed at the denim clumsily, worsening the stain and not doing much to ease the sting of the burn.

Then, Charlie's voice again. 'Want me to take a look at that?'

He could almost sense his already short fuse grow even shorter. 'I will be fine.'

The nurse eyed him with a suspicious look that almost felt intrusive. 'If there's one thing you won't be, it's-'

'Okay, thanks, but really - it's just a little scald.' He replied, if a little snappily.

'How long have you been here? You can't just sit here all night. What about you?' Concern deepened, the worry visibly etched into his face. Ethan heard, but didn't answer. Instead, he mindlessly twiddled the rag between his forefinger and thumb, pulling out thread by thread.

All the questions, and none of the answers. Knowing better than to prompt him again, Charlie rested a hand on his shoulder. 'I get it. We all do. Just be mindful that you need to take care of yourself too. I'll leave you be, but if there's anything-'

'Alright, that's appreciated.' He was quick to nod in dismissal of his presence. Charlie's voice was laden with thirty years of experience; his only wrongdoing was showing some care. Still, to hear someone so worldly-wise made the whole situation feel even more sore to Ethan. He felt far too weak, far too young to deal with it. The gentle thud of the door meeting with its frame informed him he was alone once more.

It was terribly late, so late that it was early, and his eyelids burned with exhaustion. Still, they didn't once stray. They stayed fixed on the doorframe, waiting for her. Or him. Or them both. Being a medic himself, he was aware of the reality - they could be hours. Even so, he didn't care. He'd wait. He'd wait a lifetime.

All moisture dissipated from his mouth and the damp, saturated stain gracing the area just above his knee was at once forgotten about, because there he was.

His trainers squeaked against the patent flooring, feet moving faster than the rest of his body. He took two steps for every one of the porters', who wheeled the bed almost effortlessly back into place on a ward foreign to Ethan. Dishevelled, unshaven, musty-smelling, stained and broken, yet unmistakable in identity. A shell of his big brother, completely lifeless but for the quivering of his eyelids.

'I cannot believe you.' Ethan remarked, expressionless to a fault. No anger carried in his tone, but there was a distinct absence of care too.

A soft groan, a slow movement of the arm, and two eyes opened. 'You're good. That's... good.' A mere four words escaped his lips.

'Cal... why?' Ethan asked.

'Because you're my brother.' He replied raggedly. 'You... would've done... the same.'

'I'm not certain I-' He broke himself off, casting his eyes to the floor.

Despite his state, Cal managed to frown. 'You would.'

'You could have died. You nearly died.' Ethan stated, matter-of-factly.

'I would have done, if it meant that nutcase would be stopped from injuring anyone else.'

'Well, that's noble of you. I would go as far as to say I'm surprised, especially considering the argument we had only hours before-'

Cal made a loud, harsh sounding noise at this, which Ethan presumed to be crossed between a cough and a laugh. 'You are my, my- you think I care about some argument? This is why you've got so much more to learn about life still.' Ethan resented this, and opened his mouth to counter it. 'Just save it for now, little brother. I did it for you, but Alicia too.' A sigh escaped his lips. 'Speaking of...'

Ethan just shook his head quickly, face contorted. 'She's in theatre, uh, safe hands.'

'Safer hands than mine.' Cal mumbled.

'No, you did what you could to protect her... and me. You mustn't blame yourself.'

Cal tipped his head back into the pillow, eyes glistening. Ethan watched on, mirroring the torment displayed. 'She will be fine, and you will be fine, and everyone will be fine.' Neither were convinced by the words that had tumbled from his mouth, but it was all they had. Because of this, they'd happily cling on to them.