DISCLAIMER: I don't own Casualty. I just watch it intently every Saturday night. By "intently" I mean I will bite the head off anybody who dares to disturb me.

A/N: About the time of the start of series 24. Just before the shopping centre explosion, I guess. Caitlin the F2 is based on a friend of mine (Caitlin is her favourite name). This whole thing is based off a conversation we had about how rubbish she is at comforting people. I thought it would work well as a Casualty fanfic.

Breaking the News

"So when you inform somebody of a death, you do it gently and sensitively. Got it?"

Adam raised one eyebrow as the new F2 nodded eagerly. All too eagerly. He had the feeling this girl had studied medicine just to be in close proximity of dead people.

"Got it, Dr Truman, sir!" the young woman had an excited sparkle in her eyes as she answered the doctor standing before her. "I'll be great, really! They will be laughing so much at my awesomeness that they won't even shed one tear over the dead guy!" (A/N: She actually said that)

"Caitlin. By gently and sensitively, I mean apologise and then explain – not bluntly – what happened to their loved one."

"But I don't have anything to apologise for…" murmured Caitlin, looking blank. "Oh well! See you later!" With that, she skipped off down one of the long, polished corridors.

Adam groaned and put his head in his hands. It was going to be a long shift.

LATER, IN RESUS

"Right, we've lost output!" called Ruth.

"What happened to him?" muttered Caitlin as she entered the room.

Ruth rolled her eyes as she began CPR.

"He got hit by a bus, has multiple fractures on the right side, numerous contusions and severe internal injuries. Weren't you listening?"

Caitlin paused. "To music, yes. To the paramedics… I'd have to say no. So. Can I help?"

"Considering you don't know why he's here, I doubt that you could help without causing further damage," snapped Ruth.

"But… but… I helped with that little girl's broken arm!"

"And you also scared the life out of her by explaining your theory that the bodies in the morgue dance around the corridors at night and you were going to buy tickets to watch!"

"She was screaming with laughter! And besides, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Just stop distracting me, Caitlin."

"How can I distract you from going THUMP THUMP THUMP on some patient's chest?"

"Believe me, you're managing. Now go away!"

"Fine then." Caitlin flounced out of the room, taking great care to slam the door as she went. Needless to say, it was a lot quieter once she was sulking in the waiting room.

"Ruth, it's been forty minutes," said Charlie after a while. "We should stop now."

Reluctantly, Ruth stopped CPR and looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Time of death, 13:11."

Without warning, Charlie opened the door and called for Caitlin. Despite her previous anger, the F2 bounded up to the doors of resus and beamed up at the experienced nurse.

"Caitlin, Mr. Smith passed away. His family are over there. Do you think you could break the news to them?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Fairhead!" Caitlin practically skipped off towards the anxious looking group of people in the corner.

"What is it?" murmured a middle-aged woman, the dead man's mother. "Is it our son? Oh, please tell me it's not our son!"

"Mr. and Mrs Smith," said Caitlin. "I'm afraid that…" she turned towards the doors of resus where Charlie mouthed the word "George" at her. "… that George kind of… you know… well…" Caitlin suddenly burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing for, woman?" snapped George Smith's father.

Charlie sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Well," continued Caitlin, regaining her composure. "Sorry, I never stumble over my words. It was so weird, you know…" she noted the blank expressions before her. "Okay, you don't know. But what I'm trying to say is… Georgedied."

"What? Say it slower."

"Fine. Your. Son. Died. Slow enough?"

"What?" gasped Mrs Smith.

"How dare you be so disrespectful?" yelled Mr. Smith.

"I'm really sorry. This is my first time and… I am so sorry about that."

Mr. Smith seemed to calm slightly at those words, and instead turned to comforting his now sobbing wife. Just as Caitlin thought she had salvaged the situation, the girl with the broken arm from earlier ran up to her with a clumsily crayoned picture.

"It's for you, Mrs lady," lisped the girl.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but now is not a good time."

"Why?"

Caitlin sighed at the child's annoying question and crouched to her level.

"Something bad happened to these people's son, honey."

The girl gasped.

"Did he die?" she exclaimed, all too loudly. "Mrs lady, is he going to dance in the corridors at night? Are you getting tickets? Can I have one? Will there be popcorn? I love popcorn!"

Caitlin turned to see the positively fuming faces of the mourning couple.

"Kids," she giggled. "Don't they say the stupidest things?"

"Actually, Caitlin, you say the stupidest things."

Caitlin turned to see Adam standing behind her, somehow managing to show shocked, angry and disapproving at the same time.

"What was that?" Adam said, one eyebrow raised.

"My attempt at an apologetic, gentle breaking of the news, sir."

"Right," sighed Adam. "Do you think you could manage a better attempt at helping Noel sort out those folders over there?"

Caitlin groaned.

You know what, she thought. If there's one thing I've got from this experience, it's a reminder of just why I hate kids.

THE END.

A/N: Did you like it? It is my first story, so I'd like to know how I could improve in future. I'd like some positive reviews… maybe? *gives you the puppy-dog face*

So… press the little button down there. It is calling you. "Review! Review!" Hear it?