A/N: I began writing this before I had seen the minisode where Taylor gives Matilda to Cal, (it's only just been made available online), so hadn't realised that we actually see her being chased by a policeman in the hospital. This was always going to be an AU, but just imagine that we haven't seen that proof to back up what she told Cal about being on the run etc.
Also this should be being updated fairly regularly as I have most of it just waiting to be edited now. I realise it's a long way past the episodes this story is concerned with, but hey ho who doesn't like a bit of Cal and Ethan and little baby Matilda? Set after Flutterby.
Chapter 1 - Don't Turn Around
Cal stormed into the kitchen that morning with a dour look on his face.
"Coffee," he grunted and flung himself into a kitchen chair. "Now."
Ethan, of course, was already wide awake. In that moment, Cal truly despised him.
"You're in luck. I've just made some."
Or maybe not, he reconsidered, as Ethan poured him a cup. He grasped for it with a reluctantly muttered "thank you" and drank deep.
A sudden hammering from the neighbouring flat made Ethan jump and Cal burn his mouth. Matilda, in her cot by the window, began to wail.
"Shhh, it's alright sweetheart," Ethan soothed, dashing over to pick her up. He rocked her gently until she calmed and returned to the table with her still in his arms. "This building work is going to be hell, isn't it?"
"Oh yes," Cal agreed emphatically. The landlord had dropped in last week to warn them about renovations underway next door, but now they were actually happening Cal found the concept far less acceptable. "The builders have very loud voices."
"I was wondering why you were up so early." Ethan shifted his hold on Matilda so he could grab his own coffee and take a sip. "Maybe you'll even make it to the hospital on time today!"
"I could have stayed in bed for another half an hour," Cal bemoaned, ignoring the jibe. "Half an hour. Are they going to start work this early every morning?"
"You could look on the bright side," Ethan suggested with an irritating cheeriness. "Plenty more time to spend with Toad."
"Mm, I suppose so." Cal leaned in close to blow his daughter a kiss, grudging a smile as he took her from Ethan. "What do you think of all this, hm Tilda? You want to spend some time with Daddy before he has to go to work and you're stuck with mean old Uncle Nibbles?"
"What?" Ethan's cheery mood disappeared all at once. "What happened to the creche?"
"About that..."
"Caleb!"
"I'll do it today!" Cal turned Matilda so she was facing Ethan. "But you could look on the bright side - plenty more time to spend with Toad!"
Ethan crossed his arms, but found himself relenting when Matilda gurgled happily at him. "You'll register today?"
"First thing."
"Alright then." Ethan took his niece back with a long-suffering air. "Go get dressed and don't forget to register, first thing!"
"Cheers Nibbles." Cal flashed a grateful smile and went to get dressed, just as the hammering from next door started up again and Matilda began to scream. He had a feeling Ethan would regret his act of kindness.
As shifts in the Emergency Department went, Cal's was astonishingly slow. Mrs Beauchamp pounced on him as soon as he entered - late, despite the early start - to inform him they would be working RESUS together. With Connie there Cal was largely needed only to agree with her diagnoses and sign off on the odd piece of paperwork. An hour in and the highlight of his day was a photo Ethan sent of Matilda surrounded by bubbles with the caption Bath time! Just as Connie began an argument with Rita over the new nursing rota, a casualty was brought in and he decided to take charge.
"What have we got Dixie?"
"This is Taylor Ashbie, suspected cocaine overdose. GCS is 10, irregular heartbeat, blood pressure is 140/90 and her temperature-."
Dixie's words faded into the background and Cal stared at the patient on the gurney. Taylor was nearly unrecognisable, blonde hair greasy and unkempt and eyes roaming restlessly beneath slitted lids. She was whimpering incomprehensibly and her shirt was stained with vomit.
"Cal?" Dixie's hand came to rest on his shoulder. They had reached RESUS. "You know her?"
He forced himself back into reality. "Um, yeah." Then to the room at large, "Can we get her on the bed please?"
"On my count." Cal wondered vaguely when Lofty had come into the room. "One, two, three!"
They lifted her onto the bed and her eyes fluttered open, searching for a while before alighting on his face. "Cal?"
"Yeah I- I'm here, Taylor. You're safe."
Dixie watched the exchange curiously. "Who is she? Girlfriend?"
"No," he answered shortly. "Not any more."
"You sure you should be treating her?"
Cal ignored the question. "Taylor how much cocaine did you take? Do you remember?"
"It wasn't me Cal." Taylor's breathing was strained and irregular. She reached blindly for Cal, who found himself suddenly unable to move. "I swear it wasn't me."
"Shall I get some diazepam?" Lofty suggested when it became clear Cal wasn't going to do anything. "Dr Knight?"
"It wasn't my fault, it wasn't... I'm sorry Cal." Taylor's hand found his and gripped it tightly. Her palm was warm and sweaty. "It wasn't me. You believe me, don't you? Cal?"
Cal swallowed. "Yes Lofty, some diazepam and um-" He withdrew his hand, trying not to care when Taylor whimpered his name. "- a- another doctor, I think."
After handing Taylor's treatment over to Zoe, Cal went to the staff room for an early break. There was a buzz in his pocket and he took his phone out.
It was another photo of Matilda, this time splayed on her back and giggling. One of Ethan's hands was in the picture holding a half-open nappy and the caption read, Third poo of the day! Cal laughed out loud. Then he buried his head in his hands and fought the urge to cry.
How did Taylor still have this effect on him? Over half a year ago now she had been arrested. Was there something wrong with him, to still feel so much for her? He was brimming with questions. Was she still on the run? On parole? Had she missed Matilda? Had she missed him?
"You alright love?" Dixie smiled sympathetically from the doorway. Cal straightened hastily in his chair, plastering on a neutral expression. "She's Matilda's mum, right?"
"Yes. I hadn't seen her for a while. It was just a shock."
"Must be hard seeing her like that."
You have no idea, Cal thought. "Where did you pick her up from?"
"Her flat I think. 14 Robertson Place?"
Cal shrugged. It didn't ring any bells, but that was no surprise. The flat he'd thought she'd owned was a fake, another part of the scam.
"I don't know if I should tell you this," Dixie said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "But there's some bloke with her, Leon? He's in the Relatives Room if you want to talk to him."
Cal's memory stirred when he saw Leon perched in the Relatives Room, scrolling absentmindedly through the pictures on his phone. He was a big guy, easily six foot, and dressed in a hoodie and jeans. They'd crossed paths at Taylor's "offices" at least twice, and both times Cal had mused to himself how he would never like to get on the bad side of someone so brawny.
Evidently Leon himself had no concept of the intimidating effect his muscular bulk had on others; when he saw Cal he scrambled to his feet with a look of panic and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Oh Jesus. Mate, I'm not looking for any trouble, alright? And I couldn't get your money back for you even if I wanted, so-"
"I know." Cal raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm not here about the money. I just wanted to ask some questions about Taylor."
"Oh." Leon lowered himself cautiously back into his chair. "Alright then."
"You found her, right? At her flat?"
" Well I guess it was her place. I hadn't seen her in a while, not since- well not since we had to finish that last scam with you," he admitted guiltily. "We all went our separate ways after that. Couldn't do much, once the police had our details."
"So when did Taylor get out of prison?"
"She never went to prison. None of us did."
"What?" If Taylor had never been in prison, why had she told him otherwise? Why had she given him Matilda? "Did she ever-"
"Excuse me." It was Charlie. "Dr Knight and er - Leon isn't it?"
"Yeah." Leon surged to his feet, clearly relieved to escape Cal's interrogation. "How's Taylor?"
Charlie hesitated and Cal's breath caught in his throat. He knew what that hesitation meant.
"She suffered a massive cardiac arrest," Charlie explained gently. "We did everything we could, but we couldn't get her heart started again. She died a few minutes ago."
"W- what?" Leon's relief mutated into shock. "No. No way."
Charlie lay a hand on Leon's shoulder, but looked directly at Cal as he said, "I know this must be very difficult to hear. I'm so sorry."
"But she didn't even do drugs..."
A thought struck Cal suddenly. "She had an infection." How could he have forgotten? "Weeks ago, I- I didn't tell Zoe. Maybe-"
"That would have had no bearing on anything," Charlie reassured. "Any infection she may have had was all gone. It was definitely the cocaine that led to the heart failure."
"But she didn't do drugs," Leon repeated stubbornly. "I don't understand. How did this happen?"
Charlie started talking again - the usual platitudes that were never anywhere near enough - but Leon's words stuck in Cal's mind.
How did this happen?
He found himself in the morgue.
It wasn't me, Cal. I swear it wasn't me.
He peeled the white sheet back reverently to reveal Taylor's face beneath. The nurses had cleared her up; any trace of illness was gone.
It wasn't my fault, it wasn't.
But if it wasn't her fault, whose was it? How did this happen?
I'm sorry Cal.
She'd taken the overdose and left him and Matilda alone. Again.
It wasn't me.
He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, mind spinning. Leon said she didn't do drugs... Could she have been forced? Had something pushed her to it?
You believe me, don't you? Cal?
With one last, lingering look, Cal bent down and kissed her forehead. Still too numb to cry, he covered her back up with the sheet.
I believe you, Taylor.
He exited the morgue and, some time after that, the hospital. He needed to see her flat.
