Hey there! As the sequel to By Your Bedside, I would recommend reading that first if you haven't. I don't think it's an essential read (I'm writing this as if By Your Bedside wasn't written, if you catch my drift) but if you want to know all the 'ins and outs' of the situation that brought us to this point, then read it if you haven't. If you have time, as this is the first chapter, feedback would be great! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this long overdue sequel that should have been started 6 months ago!

(I do like my stories to be as accurate as possible. Before and during the writing process, I do extensive research. But nothing will be perfect and there will be mistakes.)

Disclaimer: Casualty belongs to the BBC. I, unfortunately, do not own anything except this plot.


Thursday, 03 September 2015

Cal was anxiously tapping his foot on the floor, already having been told to stop pacing by Connie. He had ended up slouching on the sofa. For some reason, his body didn't seem to want to sit still. Connie had, of course, told him to stop tapping his foot multiple times, but she'd failed getting through to him and had given up in the end.

Dr McKay, Ethan's doctor, was sitting on Cal's right. A short, stubbly, Scottish man that Cal had rarely seen before Ethan was attacked. Occasionally, when transferring a patient up to ITU, Cal had seen Dr McKay in passing. Sometimes he'd gone to check on the patients he had come to care for and ended up talking with Dr McKay. From what he knew of him, Dr McKay was a nice man. Roughly in his late 40s and slightly balding, Cal always found him easy to recognise - even from the back. It had ended up being a little joke of theirs whenever Cal had gone up to ITU. He'd call Dr McKay, or rather Murray, in his worst Scottish accent. He sometimes, when he had the emotional energy after a shift, stoop down a little lower to his level. Then Dr McKay would turn around, knowing full well who it was, and laugh. Then he'd try to mock Cal's accent, only for it to repeatedly end up being a thick northern accent - to which they'd both grin.

It was the only happiness they'd get on ITU.

And the happiness was gone as soon as Ethan was lying up there, fighting for his life.

In his own mind, Cal found it a lot better to refer to Murray as Dr McKay. Even in the working environment, they had both used each other's first names. But he was Ethan's doctor and Cal was a relative. Even if no one else understood it, it made sense in Cal's mind to refer to him as Dr McKay. And sense was the only thing there to ground him while Ethan was there.

Dr McKay was sitting much straighter than Cal and was twiddling his thumbs. Occasionally, he glanced to Connie over the tops of his thin-rimmed glasses, but no one had spoken since Connie's attempts to ask Cal to stop moving constantly. Cal watched curiously as Dr McKay rolled his blue-striped sleeves up, and then pulled them back down. It was almost as if he'd decided he was too hot - only to become cold a matter of seconds later.

"Dr… Cal," Connie started, looking at Cal properly for the first time since he'd entered the office. It felt like he'd been in there for a number of hours, but he spared a glance at the clock and realised with concealed surprise that he'd been in there for five minutes. "Dr McKay and I have been talking, and we both agreed that this meeting would have been best held between the three of us. I've known you and Ethan for a while now, that is."

She paused as if expecting an answer. Cal nodded.

"As you already know, Ethan woke yesterday from his previous unconscious state. A coma, in simpler terms. What caused him to be in a coma, you also already know."

Cal nodded again, but he was not agreeing nor disagreeing. He was merely acknowledging what she was saying out of habit.

"Now, Cal. The thing is... his body has taken a lot recently."

Cal stared at her, wondering why she came to an abrupt halt. Seconds later, Dr McKay carried on for her.

"As we've explained previously, after he was attacked he lost a lot of blood. It cut off the oxygen supply to his brain briefly - and going into cardiac arrest did too. However, as you know, the damage couldn't have been completely and properly assessed until the pati - until Ethan had woken. It became clear to us, that after he had woken and we had run preliminary tests... the machines that were switched off, the machines that were keeping him stable, did some further damage. Time will tell us how much."

Cal nodded automatically, thankful Dr McKay didn't mention that Cal was the one who switched off the machines in a drunken state after losing hope. That small detail would be best to remain unsaid.

"Cal," Connie addressed seriously, "you do understand what we're telling you, don't you?"

He nodded once more, aware that Connie was not liking his silence.

"We're going to need you to tell us, Cal. To make sure you understand," Dr McKay said softly, placing his warm and strangely comforting hand upon Cal's knee.

He wanted to scream at them. He wanted to tell them that he was a doctor, that he knew what was happening, that he had spent all last night reading medical papers and doing extensive research into his brother's possible condition.

But his mouth wouldn't work. It was dry and he was finding it hard to swallow past the painfully uncomfortable lump in his throat.

"Tell us, Cal. We need you to tell us," Connie said gently.

"My brother might," his voice cracked, "might have brain damage. My little brother..."

A lone tear snaked down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, hoping neither of them saw him. If they did, they were caring enough not to comment. Dr McKay rubbed Cal's knee a couple of times before taking his hand back to his lap.

"I think we're done here for now," he said. "Why don't you go up and sit with your brother, Cal? The nurses will be done by now. I'll be up later, but you can have some time alone now."

"I'll come and visit too. I'll see how you're both doing. I'm sure a lot of people from down here will be up too," she joked slightly, giving Cal a faint smile.

He tried to return it, but his face ached with the force of it. He didn't think he'd ever smile again.

"Go on, Cal. Go and be with your brother," Connie said.

Cal nodded again, not trusting himself to speak without breaking down in tears. He stood up slowly and made his way out. For a moment, he stood in the doorway of Connie's office, staring at the hustle and bustle of the ED. Then he shut the door behind him and started walking. His legs felt weak and his tears started to fall freely. But he didn't go towards the lifts. He headed out of the ED. He couldn't see Ethan, not when he'd caused his current condition. If he hadn't switched off the machines, Ethan may be better.

It was his fault, and he was too much of a coward to face up to it.