Thank you so much to those who left reviews - I'm glad you enjoyed it.

I just want to mention that I know this isn't the most exciting chapter ever published. But it's the start of the story, setting the scene and I promise there is much more drama to come. So please bear with me.

Chapter 1

Ethan had only been on shift two hours and three coffees had gone cold already. Strictly speaking, it wasn't the busiest of shifts, but many of his patients demanded that little bit extra attention, and who was he to deny them that?

Mrs Jones in cubicle three was intent on telling him he looked just like her grandson and spent more time pinching his cheeks and cradling his hands than listening to him explaining she really needed to take her beta blockers. When Ethan had cleared his throat and asserted his best authority she had burst into tears and told him shakily that it was ever so complicated remembering all these things.

With Mrs Jones' only son and his family living abroad in Australia, she had no-one to help her maintain her health. Ethan had been on the phone to Social Services to arrange a drop-in carer for her, when the mother of the young boy he was tending to started screaming for help.

Little Alfie had fallen off his bike that morning, resulting in a badly broken arm and a bang to his head. The head CT had come back clear and yet Alfie was had suddenly become barely responsive. Ethan placed an oxygen mask over his mouth, rushed him into Resus and relayed all his vitals to his colleagues.

As well as the sudden decrease of GCS and shallow breathing, Alfie had a rash across his stomach and chest which depicted an allergic reaction to the painkillers he'd been administered. Ethan gave his young patient a shot of adrenaline and it was only a few seconds before he seemed to breathe easier and his eyes fluttered open. His mother, frantic with worry, was not easily calmed and it took Ethan some time to assure her that Alfie would be fine.

And then Jessica, who had been admitted following an overdose of over-the-counter tablets, was someone who truly needed his time and care. After a sudden change of heart she had phoned an ambulance for herself and had received treatment so swiftly that no real damage had been done. However, Jessica was still in a state of shock and looked terrified every time Ethan had to leave her alone in her cubicle.

Jessica's mum had died little over a month ago and she was still heavily grieving. As well as becoming an orphan at twenty-seven, she was struggling to cope with the additional responsibilities of clearing and selling her mum's old house. She told Ethan, through sobs, that it had become too much for her and she the thought of continuing in so much pain seemed like an impossibility.

He sat with her for a longer time than his superiors would have permitted and let her tell him all about her mum. He had considered, at points, telling her that he had also lost his mum, but instead settled with a generic "it does get easier," and provided her with the obligatory leaflets on bereavement counselling.

Ethan was surprised when Jessica thanked him for all his help. He hadn't considered himself particularly helpful at all, more cliché ridden and awkward. Treating physical symptoms came easier to him than psychological but there was something about Jessica and her situation that made him glad she was his patient, rather than another doctor's. She kissed him on the cheek before she left and he blushed and advised her to speak to her GP if she felt that low again.

By the time his shift had finished, Ethan felt drained. He removed his glasses, polished them on his scrubs and returned them to his face. All he wanted to do was get home and sit quietly for a few hours. However, he knew how unlikely that was. Cal had declared that he intended to spend his whole day off on the sofa playing video games, which would certainly disturb the peace.

However, Ethan was greeted with silence as he got through the front door. As usual Cal's belongings were scattered around their lounge, a dirty t-shirt over the chair arm, an old lad's mag on the table, a stained coffee mug on the floor. Ethan sighed at the familiar choice between tidying up after his brother and allowing his flat to become a sight akin to a teenage boy's bedroom. He called his brother's name and got no response. Then again, it was after 7pm, no doubt Cal had succumbed to the temptation of the pub!

Ethan collected all of Cal's errant possessions and plonked them in a big pile outside his brother's bedroom door where there was no chance they could be mistaken for part of the furniture. If Cal was at the pub, Ethan knew there was a large chance he would be woken in the middle of the night by his brother stumbling through the front door and crashing around in the kitchen trying to prepare a drunken snack. He cringed at the thought. However, just for now he was glad of the space. It had been a long day and he didn't think he could summon the energy to deal with Cal.