The rest of my ideas will have to wait until tomorrow, but getting two done doesn't strike me as bad for an evening.
"Right, you were conscious?" Ethan just tilted his head, but didn't need to say anything to tell Cal the answer to that was yes, "As you know, people say all sorts of gibberish when they're stressed."
The younger nodded, biting on his lip, looking away from Cal's eyes, "Like ordering an unnecessary ECG?"
"It's not unnecessary," Cal bit back, "Who know's what your stupidity's caused."
"Stupidity?" Ethan queried, "Is that another piece of gibberish caused by stress?"
"Yes, yes it is, sorry." The elder spoke quickly without a break before sighing and placing his hands on the bed.
"Cal..." Ethan trailed off for a moment, "I'm sorry if I worried you."
"Worried me? Ethan, you nearly gave me a heart attack, to come up to see an empty room."
"Sorry, but I needed to go."
"Why didn't you just say." Cal responded as he moved away from the bed for a short moment, always returning and reaching into Ethan's personal space to check one thing or another.
"The wake is at the pub." It was a statement.
"Really." It wasn't even close to a reply and Ethan had honestly been expecting much more.
"I was thinking you should go," Cal looked at him as though he'd just gone completely off the rails, "On my behalf as well."
The silence was strong and Ethan could tell Cal wasn't going to break it as he continued to arrange an ECG.
"Well you aren't going to let me go are you? Not now." That caught his attention.
"Cal, I'm fine - really - please just go," Ethan reached out a hand to bat Cal's away from his chest, "For the both of us."
Cal had sighed and given in, escorted Ethan back to his room and helped him out of the constricting suit and into his pyjamas.
"You don't have to do everything for me, Cal, I am still capable of getting dressed by myself." Ethan knew he had proved that, but he didn't know how close he was sailing to Lofty's earlier words.
"Stay here this time?" He'd asked as he helped him back into bed.
"As long as you have a drink for me."
"You want me to spend money on drink now?" Cal enquired, "Is that one of those gibberish things people say when their grieving?"
"It must be." Ethan answered with a smile, which Cal mirrored, placing a hand on his shoulder for a long moment before leaving to get changed and head to the wake as his little brother wished.
They were a right pair, 'the stressed and the grieving,' yet strangely it was working.
They couldn't promise to always be their for each other, or to never worry one another, but they could promise to do their best.
They were - after all - each others safety nets, whether they knew it or not.
There is just too much that can be written for these two - George Rainsford and Richard Winsor are just too amazing! Also I know have a community for Ethan&Cal stories. I'm in the process of adding a load, but anyone who has an suggestions or if I miss one of your stories, let me know and I'll fix it.
