It's so hard to write emotion oh my god how do people do it? This all feels really forced and I've tried amending it, but nothing's happened. Ah well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (Though enjoy wouldn't quite be the right word, I don't think… xD)

You Said You'd Grow Old With Me

Ethan let the tears fall. That was all he had been doing. All week. Crying. Sleeping and crying and eating when he knew he needed to – not when he wanted to.

He didn't feel anything but sadness. An overwhelming despair that filled him up, that clouded his world in darkness and filled up the empty void that his big brother left behind.

So far, he'd avoid talking to anyone. His colleagues had tried talking to him, even tried coming around to his and Cal's flat, but Ethan avoided them. All he just kept thinking was how alone he was now. No-one would ever, ever match up to Cal. And he would never feel happy again.

He turned onto his side, aiming to get a tissue. But as he reached out his arm, the little energy he had within him drained suddenly, and he let it drop back down.

Cal's voice echoed in his head. "Can't sit around moping all day, Nibbles!"

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sob. He brought his hand up to his mouth and cried hard. Cal's grinning face seeped into his mind, but then another replaced it.

His pale face. The ventilator tube still in his throat. Eyes closed and no signs of breathing. Dead.

"You've got me for life, Nibbles."

Ethan raged against Cal, anger taking him over and momentarily stopping him crying, before he screamed and cried harder, barely breathing. You liar, Caleb! You liar! You left me alone!

"Life's too short."

Ethan walked as briskly as he could into the ED, avoiding looking at the flowers and the picture of his brother's stupid smiling face at the place where he was stabbed. There was police tape behind it, and Ethan felt a stab of pain. Someone murdered his brother. Someone stole Ethan's brother away from him and Ethan never got to say goodbye.

"Ethan," Elle said surprised as he walked nearer towards the reception desk. "I didn't expect you back so soon." She looked sad, tired. As Ethan looked around, he noticed everyone did. They were all looking at him, sympathetic but hurting.

"Well, I can't sit at home all day," he stated far too briskly. "Life's too short."

He didn't look at anyone else until he reached the staffroom. Charlie was in there with Alicia. Both looked sad. Ethan did his best to smile at them, but he knew it came out more like a grimace.

Alicia was the first to approach him. "I haven't seen you since… you know. How are you?"

A quick nod was all Ethan did. "Great. Couldn't be better. Well, I'd better get on. Work to do, people to save."

Alicia got the hint and dropped the matter, stepping back and allowing Ethan to get to his locker. He didn't even glance at his brother's. All his stuff was in there (and probably some bits of Ethan's too – knowing Caleb), and that was a whole heap of memories he wasn't willing to dig through.

He could feel someone approach him from behind as he swiftly unlocked his own locker.

"If you ever need to talk to someone, Ethan. About anyth –"

"No. Thank you," he interjected, not even looking at Charlie. "Now if you don't mind, I want to get changed."

"Right, if you could take cubicles today, that would be great."

Ethan looked at Elle suspiciously. "Dylan's already taking cubicles with Lily."

"Well, Dylan said he wanted to lead in resus today, so I'm going to leave you in charge of cubicles," Elle explained.

"I'd rather take resus, actually."

Then there was that sad look again, it crossed her face only briefly before she reverted back to professionalism. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "And why's that?"

Elle hesitated.

"Go on, say it. Say it!"

Before she even had a chance to, Jez and Iain crashed through the doors.

"I've got this," Ethan stated.

"Ethan, I –"

"I said I've got this!"

Ethan rushed over to the trolley, helping it guide along as Iain reeled off information. And while Iain looked shocked to see Ethan, he didn't question it. "This is Steven Clark, 35 years old. Some kids tried to mug him and his wife – who's coming in behind us. When he tried to fight them off one of them knifed him."

Elle tried one more time. "It's not a good idea, Ethan."

"I'm a doctor, and Steven is now my patient. Now if you don't mind, I want to do my job."

Iain continued talking, and Ethan stared down at the unconscious man. Was this how it was for Cal?

He looked around as they entered resus. The only bay free was Bay 4. That bay. Cal's bay. "Bay 4, please."

Even stepping into bay 4 flooded him with memories. Finding his brother dead, having it spin round and round in his head that he'd been found stabbed. Knowing he was too late to save his brother, too late to offer comfort. Cal must have been so scared.

And as Iain stated all the necessary information, Ethan was only half taking it in. He kept staring at the blood covered man. The stabbed man, a wound in the right side of his stomach. His face was pale and he was unconscious.

Oh, Caleb, you must be so scared. Such a hero, aren't you?

Iain rubbed Ethan's shoulder sympathetically as he left with Jez, and Ethan was left to save his patient. And he would save him. He wasn't going to let him die.

He wasn't going to let Cal die.

Ethan only looked up briefly when the resus door opened. Duffy walked in with David, both ready to help him, Elle and Charlie. From just outside the door, he saw some of his colleagues, staring at him worriedly.

Ethan shook them off. He needed to concentrate on saving his brother.

Ethan watched as Cal started fighting, just as he was regaining consciousness. "It's okay, you're okay. You're in the ED, and you're safe now." He softly stroked his arm, before returning to saving his life. Because he was going to.

His brother looked towards Duffy, who was right next to his head. "My name's Duffy, alright? And this is Dr. Hardy – he's going to help you."

Ethan looked between the two and wondered why Duffy was introducing herself to someone she's been working with for months, and introducing Ethan to his own brother, but focused back on Cal. He was probably confused and didn't know who they were. Yeah. That's it. Cal would be disorientated.

"Pulse is dropping," David stated with urgency.

Ethan swallowed hard as he looked at David then Cal's closing eyes. "Okay, let's chase up that blood and get some more fluid into him, please." He looked at the monitor himself. It was not looking good. Everything was declining, he was declining.

Cal started to whimper.

"Are you in pain?"

A small nod was all he needed for confirmation.

"Let's get 5mg of morphine, please. We need to get to this bleed."

"Open him up?" Elle suggested.

I'm not cutting open my brother. "Not advisable, we're not prepared to do that here – not with this."

"He's losing blood quickly, Ethan."

"I'm aware of that," he said through gritted teeth, before taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself. "Okay… right. So he was stabbed with a kitchen knife sized blade in the lower right of his stomach," he muttered to himself. "Had morphine and oxygen, losing blood, and pulse is dropping…"

"What are you thinking?" she asked as Ethan stepped back.

"He's going to die," he whispered.

"No, Ethan, he won't. We can save him. Remember that, Ethan. Okay?"

Ethan stared at his brother's face, seeing signs of consciousness slip from him.

"Dr. Hardy, what are you thinking?"

He rubbed a hand up and down his face and then stepped to his brother's side. Cal was not going to die. Not today. "When can the surgeons take him? We're not prepared for this injury down here."

Charlie was already on the phone. "Not for another half an hour."

"We don't have half an hour!" he snapped, glaring at Charlie, eyes blazing.

And then the worst happened. "He's lost output… he's lost too much blood."

For a second, Ethan froze. He got a flash of Cal's face, the last moment he saw him… no, the last moment he would see him if he can't save him.

Then he came back to his senses, came back to his body and regained movement. "Let's ventilate. I'll start compressions."

He clasped his hands together and started pushing on his brother's chest, right by his heart. The ringing in his ears, caused by the sound of a constant beeping, was a constant reminder of Cal's unresponsive body beneath his hands. It was up to Ethan now. No-one else. Ethan needed to save Cal.

"Come on. Come on," Ethan said breathlessly as he continued. "26, 27, 28, 29, 30 –" he stepped back "– pulse check please."

David only took a moment. "Nothing."

"Shock, please," Ethan ordered.

He watched his brother's body jolt, shivering at the unnaturalness of it.

Again, no pulse.

"Okay, I'm continuing compressions." He stepped up again and started, controlled compressions, counting them out and checking his pulse. Shocking.

It continued on.

Compressions. Pulse check. Nothing. Shocking. Still nothing! Continuing compressions.

"Why don't I take over?" Elle asked calmly after Ethan had done what felt like hours of compressions.

"No. I've got to save him. I have to save him."

And so he continued. The seconds turned into minutes, and each heartbeat of Ethan's pumped in his ears, fast and loud. He glanced only briefly at the clock.

Half an hour had passed. The newly arrived blood was being pumped into Cal. He was being shocked. He was being helped so why was nothing happening?!

Charlie stepped away from the machine and came up beside Ethan. "Ethan, it's time."

He shook his head. "No. We haven't done everything we could have done. We've still got to… we will save him."

"We've done everything we could. It's too late. He's lost too much blood."

"We're giving him more! It's not my fault they're too slow!"

"Look at me, Ethan," Elle said.

Through tear filled eyes, he obediently looked at her.

"You have to stop now. It's over."

He shook and shook and shook his head. "No! It's not over! It will never be over!" He pumped hard on his brother's chest, feeling the blood beneath his fingers. "Come on, Cal. Come on, dammit! Wake up, Caleb! Please!"

A firm hand grasped his shoulder. "Ethan," Charlie murmured. "Ethan, it's not Cal."

Ethan spun around quickly and shoved Charlie off him, before returning to his brother. "Come on," he muttered. "Come on. Come on."

He breathlessly continued on with enough force to break Cal's ribs. He needed Cal to wake up and breathe; if his ribs broke, it didn't matter.

Cal needed to survive.

He withdrew his hands, tried to get his breath back and asked David for a pulse check.

David did nothing.

Ethan glared at him. "Pulse check, please," he said with more force.

David still did nothing. Ethan could feel his heartbeat throughout his body and knew he couldn't do the check. He looked around. No-one around him was doing anything.

And then Duffy stopped bagging Cal. She put it down, and the manual ventilation stopped. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked quietly and calmly – too calm, almost.

"Ethan, it's not Cal," she said slowly but not patronisingly. "This is Steven Clark. He's 35 years old. He was stabbed during a mugging. His wife was treated earlier, and she and their two children are in the relative's room."

Ethan felt his tears falling fast, and he shook his head determinedly. "No."

"Ethan –"

"No, no, no!" His hands went back to his brother's chest as he furiously kept trying to save Cal's life. "He's got to survive, he's got to! Come on, Caleb!" He glanced at Duffy through tears. "Come on, then!"

"You've got to let him go, Ethan. You've got to let… you've got to let Cal go."

"No!" he screamed.

He felt hands grasp both his shoulders. "Ethan," Charlie said from behind him. "Stop."

Ethan continued on. Harder and faster. He wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever. Cal would survive.

"I'm sorry, Ethan." Charlie put his arms around Ethan's stomach and pulled him away forcefully, just as Duffy stated the time of death.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ethan screamed. "Caleb!"

Then pain flooded his body. It filled up all his senses and electrocuted all his nerves. His knees buckled, and he could only just feel Charlie stopping him from falling hard onto his knees, instead guiding him carefully as he fell to the ground.

He could still feel Cal's blood on his fingers, could still smell the metallicity of it. His throat was sore from screaming, and his chest hurt from breathing hard. He started sobbing. Harsh, loud cries left his body and filled the room. He was vaguely aware of footsteps around him, but they were drowned out by his own torment.

All he could see was Cal's face. His pale, cold, dead face. His big brother, his safety net.

Gone. Forever.

"I want him back!" Ethan cried. "I want Cal back! It's not fair! It's not fair!"

It was a while before Ethan could stand up. The tears were still falling, and Ethan was still crying, but as Charlie supported him up, his legs were strong enough to hold him. Ethan could still feel Charlie's arm around him, and for a moment he could almost imagine it was Cal's.

But Cal was fucking dead.

The thought made his knees buckle again, but Charlie managed to keep him up this time and guide him out of resus. Ethan tried to ignore the blurred faces staring at him, but he couldn't as he was helped through his concerned colleagues.

They'd just watched him lose his brother. Or they did lose his brother… or they'd already lost him. Ethan wasn't sure. His mind was just darkness, filled with only thought.

I want you, Cal.

He wasn't sure how he ended up in the staffroom. He wasn't sure how he came to lie on his front on the sofa; head buried in his hands and strangled cries escaping his throat. All he was sure of was the pain that was never to end. The horrible, horrible pain of losing his brother. Of knowing his brother died without the one person he wanted. He was scared, terrified. Ethan knew that much.

"Life's too short."

He wanted, he needed his big brother. His only family, the one person who protected him. Looked out for him. Who'd promised he'd be there for Ethan through everything. They'd face everything together, good and bad and terrible. All they had were each other, and now he's dead.

"I want him back!" Ethan screamed, the sound muffled by the fabric of the sofa. "I want my brother, Charlie!"

He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, crying and screaming for his brother.

"Cal and I… doddery old men by then. Cal's on his fourth wife."

"Why did this have to happen?! It's not fair! He deserved better, Charlie! He deserved better than a brother like me. I wasn't even there for him!"

Charlie muttered soothingly to him, but it didn't matter. Charlie wasn't Cal. Ethan was alone now. Cal was never coming home.

"You've got me for life, Nibbles."