So here it is, the start of my sequel to The Power of Love. It'll be told from Dylan's perspective mostly, since I really wanted to explore his reaction to the events of that story, and I just really writing his character. I hope you enjoy it, please leave a review to tell me what you think. It'll be about two weeks before the next chapter is uploaded, since I'm going on holiday soon.

Dylan scowled. It was still dark, and too early, surely, for his alarm clock to be ringing. It felt like he'd only just fallen asleep, and that was probably true: he'd come in from work unable to stop his mind racing. He'd tried everything. Dervla had been exceptionally unimpressed with such a late night walk, especially since there had been frost deeply settled on the ground since the middle of last week. Dylan had been equally disgusted by one of those weird calming teas Zoe had left behind when she moved out. Reading, classical music, nothing had worked to empty his head of racing thoughts, and the one thought in particular which seemed to be constantly torturing him these days. The fact that Lily Chao had an artificial foot, and it was all his fault.

He had been the doctor in charge of her care, when the building she was pulling a patient from collapsed and her appendix ruptured, having been grumbling for weeks. She shouldn't have even been in that building, but she insisted to everyone that she was fine. Bloody junior doctors, always thinking they were invincible or something! He should have been able to save her foot, her should have started antibiotics sooner to hold the infection back, he should have...

And there it was, the Terrible Thought, the one that kept him awake at night. It was strictly between himself and Dervla, his faithful wolfhound; he couldn't even bring himself to tell Zoe, whom he told everything about himself, and who knew goodness knows what else besides.

Lily Chao shouldn't have been on the trauma team that day at all. It should have been him, but when he heard Connie mention it, he had immediately busied himself in triage. Something petty, maybe a broken arm, that someone else could have, should have dealt with. He should have gone with Ethan, Lily should have stayed behind, then when she'd been taken ill someone would have noticed sooner, and nothing would even have happened to her legs. Guilt permeated his mind like smoke, every waking moment and come to think of it, every sleeping moment too, and he was powerless to make it stop.

And now, sure enough, even though the sun wouldn't reach the horizon for a couple of hours yet, it was five thirty in the morning, so his alarm clock was correct to be pulling him from an uneasy sleep. He showered in the tiny bathroom at the back of the boat and tried yet again to clear his head. He was almost managing it, until he inadvertently rubbed his eye with a hand covered in lemon-scented shower gel. He swore loudly as he tried to rinse it out.

Heading into the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Dervla, sitting by her water bowl with disapproval written all over her face.

"Yes, all right, I'm coming," he muttered, stroking her ears fondly before filling the bowl with fresh water and topping up the biscuits in her second bowl. He made a bowl of porridge for himself, which despite his best efforts he could only eat half of. Dylan drained his coffee mug at 6.17 precisely and walked Dervla to the car without a lead. She was old and calm and didn't often need it these days. She sat in the front passenger sear, riding shotgun as she had done for years, on any journeys without human passengers. He left her at the doggy daycare centre at half past six, with the same precise description he left every day.

"Dylan, you look exhausted," Zoe said when she met him, walking across the car park of Holby's Emergency Department.

"I do love having a best friend who is so brutally honest," he replied, with an obvious edge of sarcasm.

"I'm being serious, are you okay to be in work today?" she asked, catching the sleeve of his coat to stop him walking away.

"Zoe, don't treat me like a child please, I've rather become accustomed to being treated like an adult. Because I am on." There was a pause, because Dylan knew he'd overstepped the mark of the sarcastic banter he and Zoe usually shared. His tiredness was becoming more evident, and he vowed to try and bite his tongue next time. "I'm sorry, that came out rather ruder than I had hoped."

"Not a problem," Zoe said breezily, pulling her coat tighter around her against the chill wind, a smug glint in her eye. "I know exactly who's buying coffee today though." Dylan sighed, knowing she'd won. She usually did.

Even though it was at his own expense, Dylan was appreciative of the coffee. Zoe looked confused when he ordered his coffee black – usually he took it with just a dash of milk and a sugar packet and a half. She restrained herself from asking again if he was okay; he was clearly in a fragile mood and wouldn't take kindly to it. Zoe made and urgent mental note to warn Connie that there could be something going on.

But Connie took the same line as Dylan.

"You shouldn't interfere Zoe, he's a grown man, and as he so elegantly pointed out, he doesn't need you to treat him like a child."

"Connie, you don't know Dylan like I do. I'm just saying, tread carefully -" But she didn't get a chance to go on, before Lofty burst into the office.

"Mrs Beauchamp, you need to get out here, now," he said, sounding like he'd just run the length of the department.

"Staff Nurse Chiltern, you have no right to tell me what to do," Connie said coldly.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he said quickly. "It's Dr Keogh." Zoe rolled her eyes at Connie and raised her hands in a way that clearly said 'What did I tell you?"

In the middle of reception, Dylan was arguing loudly with a patient, a clearly obese woman who seemed to be having difficulty getting her point across to Louise whilst holding a dispute with Dylan. Zoe and Connie looked at each other, in silent and seamless agreement of their course of action. Zoe pulled Dylan away to her office, while Connie gently steered the woman to hers, making apologetic eyes at Louise and looking daggers at Dylan's back.

He was still fuming when they reached Zoe's office, but that was nothing to Zoe's new frame of mind.

"Dylan! What the hell were you thinking?" she exploded, knowing full well their conversation would be heard outside, despite the door being closed.

"I was merely trying to make a point, that it's a cold and icy day, and all the advice on the news was to stay indoors unless it's an essential journey," he said, his hands shaking with what looked more to be anxiety than fury, in Zoe's eyes.

"Dylan, I'm not stupid. What did you say after that?"

"I may have pointed out -"
"Stop beating around the bush!" Zoe said furiously. "If this woman makes a complaint, or goes to the press, all our necks are on the line here!"

"Regardless, I'd still say a trip to a cake shop, for a woman of her size, is a non-essential journey!" Dylan snapped, his tone somewhere between irritable and disguising a smirk, even though his hands still shook. Zoe sat down at her desk, sighing deeply. She didn't have to ask whether Dylan had been stupid enough to actually say this to the patient. She dropped her anger, knowing it would get her nowhere.

"What's up with you today? You're clearly exhausted, you took your coffee black – which you never do," Dylan flinched as she said this; he thought she hadn't noticed the coffee. "And you're not yourself, you're usually snippy with me but not like this, and never with the patients."

"I'm fine," he insisted, rubbing his hands together anxiously but keeping his tone steady. "I just let my temper get the better of me." Zoe rolled her eyes.

"You better hope this woman's complaint doesn't get the better of you either," she said.

"Don't think I don't know why you're pressing me for answers like this," he said. He knew and understood Zoe's motives exactly, but he wished he didn't. She still felt bad for letting Lily slip through her fingers, but he'd like to bet she was still eating and sleeping.

Connie was equally as angry as Zoe had been: she sent Dylan home early, Zoe's advice to tread carefully completely slipping her mind.

Dylan drove home feeling empty, with none of his old satisfaction from a sarcastic remark. Dervla looked somewhat confused to be going home early, and even more so later in the evening, when she sat hopefully by the door of the boat. It was their usual walk-time, but Dylan just shook his head.

"Not tonight, Stinky," he said affectionately. She seemed to understand, and sat with her head resting on his lap. Her comforting presence and the heavy heat of her head on his thigh helped Dylan fall into sleep.

The peace only lasted a few hours, until a nightmare jolted him awake. The image of Lily being pulled from that building flashed through his mind again and again. He took himself to bed, but he lay staring at the ceiling for most of the night.