I've been wanting to write a story about Ethan's fear of heights since Saturday, but various things got in the way, including a lack of inspiration. This is set sometime between Cal and Ethan's arrival in Holby and Saturday's episode (Step Right Up).

This story includes a part of Cal and Ethan's flat that probably doesn't exist - it's actually part of my flat! I hope you can suspend your disbelief.

Ethan held open the door and waited. Cal gripped the handles of his crutches more firmly and hopped into the flat. Ethan wasn't sure if the look of pain on his face was due to his ankle or being in the embarrassing position of not being able to conceal his temporary weakness, but Ethan sympathised all the same. Being off work; struggling to open your own front door without assistance; having to cope with pain and painkillers… it wasn't Ethan's idea of how to spend the weekend.

Ethan had actually been planning on taking himself off on a weekend walking holiday, but as soon he'd heard about Cal's accident, he'd gone online to cancel the booking. He'd known without being told that Cal would need some help over the weekend and probably for several days after that. Ethan would be of much more use to him in the flat than in Yorkshire.

Ethan hurried ahead to tidy away various piles of Cal's bits and pieces to give his brother a clear path to the living room. Once he'd got Cal settled on the sofa with an extra cushion for his ankle, he went to get the can of beer Cal had requested. Although Ethan personally thought tea would be much better for him, he really thought Cal had earned it. This time, his injury was not the result of a drunken incident, but part of a successful attempt to save someone's life, and although Ethan couldn't see himself admitting it, he was proud of his brother. Cal's injury had meant Iain ended up being the heroic one, but Cal had still helped to treat the patient and had flatly refused to receive treatment himself until the patient was stable.

"How are you feeling?" asked Ethan sympathetically, as he sat opposite Cal with a textbook and two cups of tea, just in case Cal changed his mind.

"Embarrassed," said Cal, as he flicked through a magazine before dropping it onto the floor.

"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about!" said Ethan. "You were in a hurry to get to the patient. It's not your fault you didn't notice the steps."

"Iain said I should borrow your glasses," huffed Cal. "And even Dixie made a dig about a sight test."

"I'm sure they were both joking," said Ethan soothingly, before adding: "Though you probably are due for a sight test."

The look Cal gave him convinced Ethan that this was not a good time to pursue that line of conversation. Instead, he picked up his textbook and read, half an eye on Cal, who glowered and sighed his way through his can of beer.

"I want to go out!" moaned Cal suddenly.

Ethan tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Cal, you've just been out. You can't need to go out again."

"Fresh air is very important!" said Cal in a sulky voice.

"Yes, but you've had a lot more of it than I have," pointed out Ethan.

"Yeah, and look at you!" Cal gestured towards Ethan with a look that was far from admiring.

Ethan sighed. He had to admit the idea of Cal going out was already appealing. "Why don't you go and sit on the balcony? I'm sure the air's very fresh out there."

"If that's my only chance of fresh air, I suppose that will have to do," said Cal long-sufferingly.

Ethan bit back a retort because he knew Cal probably was suffering. Being in pain could make anyone… well, a pain. "Wait there: I'll get a couple of chairs." With some difficulty, he carried an armchair out onto the balcony, his eyes focused on the chair as he walked as lightly as he could. He put the armchair down fairly near to the door and went back for a dining room chair so Cal could elevate his foot. He closed his eyes for a moment and then went back inside. "Do you need any help getting up?"

"Of course not!" said Cal, offended. He struggled to his feet and reached for his crutches, knocking both of them to the floor.

Ethan patiently picked them up and handed them to him. "I'll hold the balcony door for you." It usually took an exceptional gust of wind in order for it to slam shut, but Ethan thought it would be as well not to take any chances.

Cal muttered to himself as he hopped through. He stopped short at the sight of the two chairs. "I hope mine's the comfy one."

"They're both yours," said Ethan. "The armchair for sitting in and the dining chair for your ankle."

"Aren't you sitting out here with me?" said Cal. "What if I faint or something?"

"I'll be just in here," said Ethan. "I'll keep checking on you."

Cal gave him a concerned look. "You don't like the balcony much, do you, Ethan? You never come out here."

"Yes, well, considering you use it for sunbathing naked, I'm sure you can see why it's not very high up my List of Places to Visit," said Ethan. But he was sure Cal knew the real reason. The five-floor drop, combined with the balcony's habit of vibrating every time you stepped on it, all contributed to Ethan's decision not to go out there if he could possibly avoid it.

Cal didn't look convinced, but he said no more. Even in his current mood of frustration, there was a line he didn't cross. He might jeer at Ethan for his lack of success with women; his inherent geekiness and even his stammer, but it was very rare for Cal even to hint at making fun of his acrophobia.

Ethan waited until Cal had eased himself onto the armchair, then he brought him a pile of magazines, along with his textbook, and his laptop. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks, bro," said Cal without looking at him. He'd just opened a magazine and had evidently seen something quite impressive on the first page. Ethan couldn't repress a shudder of distaste as Cal licked his lips, but he withdrew into the flat without comment.

He'd only read through about half a page of his textbook when he heard a scream. In a panic, Ethan threw his textbook aside and rushed out onto the balcony. To his surprise, Cal was standing up.

"It came from next door, Ethan. On the balcony."

Ethan gave the partition that separated his balcony from his neighbour's a wary glance. Most of the balconies in Ethan's block of flats were separated only by a thin sheet of metal. It would be easy for Cal (if not Ethan) to peer or even climb around the partition on the right-hand side in order to pay their neighbour an unexpected visit; but on the left-hand side, their balcony and that of their neighbour Megan sandwiched a small recess containing the water meters. There was no chance of seeing Megan's balcony from here – as Cal had proved when he'd taken it into his head to wonder if Megan ever used her balcony for sunbathing naked.

"Megan?" called Cal, moving up to the partition and leaning out over the balcony. "Are you okay?"

There was no answer. Cal tried again in a slightly raised voice, then he looked at Ethan.

"Maybe she's not on the balcony," said Ethan hopefully. "I'll go and knock on the door."

He grabbed his keys and hurried over to Megan's flat, but neither his gentle, polite knocks nor his more concerned hammerings brought any response at all. He returned to the flat and went straight to the balcony, where Cal was standing on his uninjured leg and leaning over the balcony railing in a way that made Ethan dizzy just watching him.

"Ethan, I think I'd better go over there," said Cal, his concern overriding the pain on his face. "There's a ledge on the other side of the rail – it's probably five or six inches wide. I think I could walk along it and get onto Megan's balcony that way."

There was a horrible sensation in the pit of Ethan's stomach. "You can't, Cal. You've got a sprained ankle. You can't put any weight on it. How can you go clambering over balconies and along ledges?"

Cal considered for a moment and came up with something equally manly. "I could break the door down."

"No, you can't," said Ethan unhappily. "You can't leave Megan without a front door and it's technically vandalism."

"Well, what else am I going to do?" said Cal.

"Call the emergency services," said Ethan.

Cal rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously, Ethan. But it's going to take a while for them to arrive. If I can get over there, I can give Megan what treatment I can and let the paramedics into the flat. I'm sure you wouldn't want Iain vandalising Megan's door, would you?"

Ethan wanted to say that it was a bit different of the emergency services broke their way into someone's flat, but he knew Cal was right about the waiting time. "Okay. I'll go."