This is a birthday fic for the very lovely Tato Potato and beckyboogle. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I've written three chapters and it's nowhere near the end so I think it's going to be another long one. I'll try to update every day until it's finished, but I can't promise. I'm a bit worried it's medically dodgy and full of plot holes, but the only thing that really matters is that you enjoy it. I named the OCs after characters you've written about on the grounds that you probably like the names.

Happy Birthday :)

"Sarah, what are you doing?" said Emma. "Get down from there!"

Sarah was balanced precariously on the high wall that separated the house they shared from the one next door."I thought I might be able to see into Dominic's bedroom from here."

"Sarah, I told you," said Emma. "He's gay. He's also more than likely at work."

Her heart was in her mouth as Sarah rose on tiptoes. "Oh my God: what is that?"

"I don't care what it is," said Emma. "Just please come down! Carefully."

"I think he's got a naked inflatable man in his room!" said Sarah, almost dancing about on the wall.

Emma's voice rose with something close to hysteria. "I don't care if he's got a naked real man in his room! Just please get down here before you kill yourself."

Sarah sighed. "It's not even that far down. It's only about four feet."

"More like six," said Emma. "But that's just on our side. It must be nearer fifteen feet on their side."

"No way is it fifteen feet." Sarah looked downwards, presumably so she could make a proper estimate, and froze. "Oh my God, Emma: I'm about a hundred feet up in the air!"

"It's okay," said Emma. "Just come down now and you'll be fine."

"I can't." Sarah's voice was barely audible. "I can't move, Emma. If I move, I'll fall."

The ED was overrun. The waiting room was crawling with patients, many of them time-wasters. Cal sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. What he really wanted was to sneak off on a booty call, but even if he'd had a girlfriend at the moment, it wouldn't be easy getting out past the swarms of people.

He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see his brother. "How are you holding up?" said Ethan.

"With difficulty," said Cal.

Ethan's worried eyes examined Cal's face. "How's your head?"

"Banging," said Cal. "Unlike me last night."

"Maybe you should have a break," said Ethan.

Cal indicated the waiting room with a weary hand. "Can you see Connie letting me have a break?"

Ethan looked sympathetic. "When can you have another tablet?"

"Not for two hours," sighed Cal. "Seriously, Ethan, when it's a hangover, it almost seems fair enough. At least I had a good time the night before. But what did I do to deserve this?"

"Well, booking a head, neck shoulder massage with a masseur who's already made it very clear she's not interested does kind of invite her to use maximum pressure," said Ethan.

Cal massaged the back of his neck. "I told her she was hurting me, but she wouldn't stop!"

"She told you to stop harassing her, but you didn't stop either," pointed out Ethan.

"I wasn't harassing her!" said Cal. "I really believed she was playing hard to get. It didn't even occur to me that she just didn't fancy me."

Something touched Sarah's foot. She screamed and nearly fell. "What the hell was that, Emma?"

"Me," said Emma.

"What are you doing?" said Sarah. "Do you want me to die?"

"No, but I also don't want myself to die," said Emma. "I thought that if I stood here and guided your feet down, you wouldn't be so scared and you'd be able to move."

Sarah tried to sound exasperated, but it was a bit difficult when she was terrified. "Emma, seriously: do you really think your fingertips are going to stop me from falling?"

Emma thought. "Okay: I'll get a box or something to stand on."

"No, you can't leave me!" said Sarah.

"Are you sure you can't get to your phone?" said Emma, who'd chosen a very bad time to put her own phone on charge.

"How am I supposed to do that when I can't move?" said Sarah.

Emma sighed and looked up at the wall again. She gulped. "Okay. I'll come up."

"Finally!" said Sarah.

Ethan looked over at Cal, who was leaning against the nurses' station, his head in his hands. He went over to him and spoke quietly. "Are you okay?"

"No!" growled Cal. "I think I'm dying and I bet you anything that there isn't one person in that whole waiting room who's more ill than me."

Ethan put his hand on Cal's shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Tell Connie I can't possibly work due to being dead?"

"I think Mrs Beauchamp knows the difference between a dead body and a live one," said Ethan.

Cal just groaned.

"It will probably hurt less if you stand up properly," said Ethan. "I'll give you a massage if you like. A gentle one."

Cal groaned again and straightened up.

Ethan looked at Cal's shoulders. They were a long way up. "Maybe you could bend your knees a bit so I can reach better?"

Cal sighed, bent his knees, and muttered something about Ethan's lack of height. Ethan decided that, just this once, he would pretend he hadn't heard.

Ethan started massaging.

"That's not bad," admitted Cal. "I can almost believe you're a hot blonde."

"Well, I am blond," said Ethan. "And it is hot in here."

Cal straightened his knees and turned to glare at Ethan. "Ethan, if you have to steal my best chat-up lines, could you at least not use them on me?"

Don't look down. Just don't look down, Emma told herself. She wasn't usually that scared of heights, but anyone with any sense would be a bit scared of walking along a wall when there was a fifteen-foot drop on one side.

To begin with, it hadn't been that bad. The beginning of the wall was so low, no proper climbing was required. All she had to do was step onto it. The wall continued to go upwards in steps. It was really just like walking up the stairs.

She was nearly there now. Just two more steps and she would be with Sarah. Emma took a deep breath and went up one more step. Then another. "Okay, Sarah. I'm here." She took Sarah's hand firmly in hers. "Okay. Now all we've got to do is get down. And that's got to be easier than climbing up."

How she hoped that was true.

She watched as Sarah took one shaky step, then another.

"That's good!" Emma encouraged her.

"No, Emma. Nothing about this is good."

Slowly and shakily, they shuffled along the wall.

"How is saying I'm hot a chat-up line?" said Ethan. "I mean, not that I actually meant I'm… you know. That kind of hot. I know I'm not hot at all in that way. I just meant I'm feeling hot. Or does that mean exactly the same thing? But anyway, I wasn't really talking about myself. I was just talking about the temperature of the ED."

Cal sighed. "I know what you meant, Ethan. Can you just go away now?"

Ethan looked offended. "I was only trying to help, Caleb." He picked up a file and stalked off.

"Ethan, wait." Cal went after him. "I'm sorry."

"You really are ill, aren't you?" said Ethan.

"I do feel awful, but I shouldn't be taking it out on you," said Cal.

Ethan frowned. "Are you sure your headache is from the massage? Out-of-character behaviour can be suggestive of a head injury."

Cal started to hit his head against the wall, but he very quickly thought better of it. "Oh, just go away and let me die!"

Ethan put his arm around him. "Maybe you need a bit of seeing-to, yourself. I'm sure I could squeeze you in as long as I make it quick."

"I know I'm gorgeous, Ethan, but please try to remember you're my brother."

Ethan stared at him. "What?"

Cal sighed and wearily explained everything he'd said.

"Oh! No, not that kind of seeing-to. Or that kind of squeezing. I just thought maybe I should get you into bed and… no. That's just as bad. I just meant maybe I could give you the once-over to see how fit you are. Check you out. You know what I mean."

Cal's hands were over his face. "You think I'm in need of a physical examination and you want to give me one."

"Yes! That's it exactly," said Ethan in relief.

But then they were interrupted.

"Dr Knight. Dr Hardy. I take it you have a reason for standing gossiping when we have a waiting room overflowing with patients?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Beauchamp, but Cal isn't very well," said Ethan. "He has a headache. Not a hangover. Just a headache."

"I see," said Connie. "If you don't want to take a turn for the worse, Dr Knight, I suggest getting on with your job. If I catch either of you gossiping again, there will be trouble. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp," said Cal and Ethan.

"Good," said Connie.