I'm sorry the wait was so long. Life got in the way yet again! I just hope I haven't lost you all.
Anyway, this is the final part, so I want to thank all of you for your support, not just with my writing but with knowing I'm not alone in grieving over a fictional character! Cal and Ethan have been amazing and I'm still so sad about what happened. While I've been writing this, Cal's still been alive in my mind, so I feel like I'm finally going to have to accept they killed one of my all time favourites :'(
I hope this part is a satisfying ending (I tried so hard to resist any cheesiness, but by the time I got to the last few lines I completely failed - you'll see what I mean). Please, please, leave one final review. I've enjoyed writing this regardless, but really do appreciate every bit of feedback.
Bonnie Sveen Fan: I know, I feel so sorry for both of them throughout this story. But they've always said hurtful things to each other when under stress, so I didn't want to stray too far from that. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
tracys dream: Really pleased you enjoyed that chapter despite all the drama. Thanks for all your reviews throughout.
Becs22: It was very harsh of Cal to say and must have hurt Ethan to hear - you're certainly right that he'll have taken it to heart. I hope you enjoy how they've moved forwards after that comment. Thank you so much for your review.
CBloom2: As much as I love them, there's always been elements of Cal taking Ethan for granted, so I think it was the same in that scenario, Cal snapping without stopping to consider how much Ethan has been there for him. Buuut, there may be a resolution coming. Thank you for your comments and I hope you enjoy the final chapter.
InfinityAndOne: Thank you for reviewing, your comments are pretty much spot on. Cal's hurting and fed up and he lashed out with the first thing he could think of, but I don't think he realised (in that chapter anyway) how much pain his words would actually cause Ethan. I really appreciate you saying they are in character as that's the thing I always strive for, but sometimes struggle with, so thank you so much. Hope you enjoy this chapter too.
Tanith Panic: Thank you so much. I'm glad the medical details worked as, even though I research, I'm blagging a lot of it. Thank you for picking out that sentence, I'm glad the emotions came across.
Anonymouse: Ahh, I'm sorry for making you cry. I had to sneak a little reference in though and there's a few more to come in this chapter. I wish this was canon too! This is the version in my head but every time I watch an episode it all comes back to me. Such a heartbreaking way for it to end. Thanks for your support and I hope you enjoy this final part.
casslourocks: No need to apologise, I know how hectic life can get and your feedback is always so kind anyway. I'm glad that the unravelling worked - things were bound to go wrong at some point, especially with them both at their most emotional. I hope I've managed to bring them back to their normal selves without going too far in the opposite direction. Thank you for all of your support with this story, I really appreciate it and hope you like the final chapter.
7.
Ethan drags his spoon around his bowl of porridge. He stirs the oats until they're almost solid. Tentatively, he fills the spoon and puts the tip into his mouth. The porridge is congealed and half cold and he feels the familiar stirring of nausea. He lets the spoon clatter back into the bowl and with a sigh he slides it across the table.
He recalls his promise to Charlie that he'd start taking care of himself. It isn't so much the promise he's worried about breaking, but the possibility of another fainting episode; he has far too much to do to waste time lying on his back waiting for his legs to stop shaking. He abandons the porridge and grabs a few handfuls of cornflakes straight from the box, swilling the cereal down with an extra strong coffee.
Even though it's preferable to the porridge, it's reminiscent of the way Cal manages to scatter cereal around the flat as he eats out of the packet while getting ready for work. Ethan thinks of his brother, alone in hospital, and the cornflakes threaten to resurface. He grimaces. He doesn't care that Charlie advised him to spend his day off resting; he's going to the hospital and he's going to do whatever it takes to earn Cal's forgiveness.
As soon as he enters Cal's room, Ethan can tell he's not the only one who has spent the night fighting back tears. Cal's nose is pink, his eyes are shut and the music of Oasis leaks from beneath his headphones. Ethan clears his throat but it has no effect, so he waits, frozen, until Cal senses his presence and whips the headphones from his ears. As their eyes meet, Ethan thinks his brother looks almost frightened.
"I didn't think you'd come back," he says.
Ethan doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice wobbling and so shrugs and remains in the same spot, wishing, not for the first time that his brother had a better memory – I'll keep coming back for you, Caleb; I just will.
"What I said yesterday," Cal continues, sounding desperate. "I didn't mean it."
Ethan tries to nod, but his neck feels stiff and he stays gawping at his brother as he wonders how to proceed.
"It was just- I- I'd just-" Cal shivers. He takes a deep breath. "I'd had a nightmare. And then physio went badly. And then you were there and I lashed out, but I promise, I didn't mean it."
"Yeah, well, you were right."
"What?"
"You were right," Ethan repeats. Each word hurts to force from his throat. "It was my fault."
"That's stupid," Cal says. "You didn't stab me."
Ethan removes his glasses so that he can rub at his eyes. He opens them in time to see his brother struggling to his feet. "No, no, don't get up."
"Then stop standing in the middle of the room like an idiot and come here."
Ethan collapses into the bedside chair. "Caleb, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"Scott was after me," Ethan says. Although he's not verbalised it before, the sentence sounds old from the amount of times he's repeated it to himself. "He couldn't find me because I was hiding in the pub, so he went for you instead, the closest equivalent."
"Not exactly," Cal says slowly.
"Then, what? He realised attacking you would hurt me more?"
"Ellison's not that clever." Cal pauses. "Listen, I was in a foul mood yesterday, please forget what I said. It was horrible and it isn't true."
"It's not because of what you said." Ethan shuffles to the edge of his chair. "What did you mean, not exactly?"
Cal groans. "Ethan, it wasn't your fault, okay? That's all you need to know."
"No, tell me. Please."
"Can we stop talking about it?"
"Caleb, we haven't talked about it at all, that's the problem."
Cal falls silent and looks away from him. Ethan can see his brother absentmindedly fingering the outline of the dressing covering his stab wound.
"I'm your brother, why won't you tell me?"
"Because it scares me, alright," Cal snaps. A shudder runs through his body. "I thought I was going to die. And whenever I think about… about what happened… I get scared just like I was that night. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to feel like that."
Ethan moves instinctively and grabs his brother's hand. He half expects Cal to pull away but his brother squeezes back and manages a small, sad smile.
"Cal, how often are you having nightmares?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Every night, or-"
"Just occasionally." He gives a bitter laugh. "Usually when I've not had one for a few days and have started to relax."
"There are people you could speak to..."
Cal shakes his head. "No. Once I'm home and things have gone back to normal they'll stop. Anyway, they're just dreams. I can handle it."
Ethan raises his eyebrows but his brother pointedly ignores him and pulls his hand away.
"There's something I don't understand," Ethan says. "If you don't want to relive it now, then why didn't you just let me listen when you made your statement to the police?"
Cal looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "There were things you wouldn't want to hear."
"You don't know that." Ethan holds a hand up to his aching head. "I can't stop thinking about it, Caleb. I keep seeing you lying hurt in the rain and wondering what I should have done to prevent it. I mean, answering my phone, that's a given, but would it have been enough or would I have to go back further to handle the whole situation with Roy differently?" Ethan pauses to massage his temple. He knows he's rambling but now he's started, he can't stop. "And Scott. Did he have a knife on him anyway or did he get one with the intention to hurt one of us? I know he was grieving, but seriously, what kind of person-"
"I started the fight," Cal suddenly interrupts.
Ethan's chest thumps. "You… what?"
"That's what I had to tell the police." He takes a shaky breath. "The reason why I did it."
"But- but- Scott?"
"He knew where you were, Ethan. He as good as told me he was going to hurt you. So I tried to scare him off." Cal drags a hand through his hair and locks it into a fist. "I had him on the floor. I was winning." He frowns. "Well, I thought I was winning. But however hard I hit him he was still adamant he was going after you. So I couldn't stop fighting him. How could I? The second I stopped, he'd be straight after you." Cal pauses and turns his head away. "But then he asked me to wait. He begged. And I thought- I thought he must have changed his mind. So I stopped."
His brother's voice breaks on the last syllable and Ethan feels as if someone has reached inside him and is squeezing his heart.
"Was that- was that when..?" he asks.
Even though Cal is still facing away from him, Ethan can sense his small nod. He reaches out and places a hand on his brother's far cheek and gently turns his head back. Cal's eyes are damp and he's frowning as if it's taking deep concentration to prevent the tears from falling.
"Thank you for telling me," Ethan says, softly.
Cal's lips part but it takes a few moments for him to compose himself enough to speak. "I spoke to the police without you as I didn't want you to feel guilty that it happened because I was trying to stop him getting to you. But I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice you were blaming yourself anyway."
"Of course I was." He bows his head. "Am."
"You have to stop obsessing over this." Cal swivels so that his legs are over the side of the bed and the brothers are head on. "Charlie told me you fainted yesterday."
"Charlie shouldn't have."
"He's worried about you, Nibbles. So am I!"
"That's ridiculous," Ethan says, despite his eyes prickling. "You're the one in hospital."
"Tell me you'll start to look after yourself."
Ethan considers telling his brother he already is looking after himself, but he knows Cal will see through the lie. "I will."
"Good. Because I can't do this without you." Cal gives a bashful smile. "Look, if I tell you something, do you promise not to use it against me in an argument?"
Ethan raises one eyebrow but nods.
"When I thought I was going to… die… the thing that scared me more than anything was the thought of being without you."
Ethan forgets to breathe. He wants to grab his brother and hold him tight. He makes do with squeezing his brother's knee. "I nearly lost you, Cal. I don't know what I'd do if- if…" he takes a breath and tries again. "If you-" It feels as if the lump in his throat is obstructing his speech. As he stares helplessly at his brother, he feels a tear trickle down his cheek.
"Are you crying?" Cal asks. "You don't cry."
"I do," Ethan says. He wipes a hand beneath his nose.
"Oh come here, you idiot."
Ethan doesn't rebuke Cal for standing this time, only joins him on his feet and buries his face into his brother's good shoulder and lets Cal's baggy t-shirt mop up his tears. His brother's arms snake around his waist and Ethan reciprocates.
"I love you, Cal," he murmurs. "You mustn't ever scare me like that."
Cal drops a kiss just above his ear. "I'd do the same again."
"No." Ethan pulls away to stare his brother in the eye. "Caleb, I'm serious."
"So am I!" Cal says. "I did it because you're my little brother and I love you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you!"
Ethan tightens his grip.
"Uh, Ethan, not so hard, that's sore."
In horror, Ethan jumps back from his brother, letting his arms fall to his side. "Gosh, Cal, I'm so sorry."
Cal straightens himself. "It's fine."
Ethan dabs at the remaining tears on his cheeks. "I'd do the same, you know."
"Yeah, I know. You've been looking after me most my life." Cal reaches out and ruffles Ethan's hair. "Tried to do the same for once, but it's me isn't it; I screwed up as always."
"You don't always screw up."
"Don't I?" Cal sinks back onto the mattress. "From a few of his punches, I thought I might end up in a cubicle for an hour or two. It never occurred to me that I'd still be in hospital nearly a month later."
Ethan takes a seat next to him on the bed. "It could have been much worse."
Cal nods softly and stares down at his lap. "Can we promise to stop thinking about that?"
"Yeah, okay."
There's a silence during which Ethan's sure they're both contemplating the thing they've only just agreed to forget. He's sure it's a promise he'll fail to keep, but his brother doesn't need to know everything that goes on in his head.
"I need some air," Cal says.
"Are you allowed outside?"
"Probably not."
As an idea begins to hatch in Ethan's mind, he removes his glasses and polishes them thoroughly, buying time while he makes certain he wouldn't be doing anything dangerous. His brother's machines have all been disconnected and he's only still an in-patient while he's rebuilding enough muscle strength to be predominately independent. He can't think of any reason why Cal wouldn't be allowed a short breather outside, particularly if he has a doctor by his side.
"I'll be right back," Ethan says.
He scans the ward. There's a steady buzz of staff but none of the same urgency he's used to within his own department. He strides down the corridor, unsure whether a fast or slow pace will look the least conspicuous. He takes a few turns without seeing what he is looking for and contemplates consulting Max. But then he sees it like a discarded gift. He grabs the wheelchair before anyone can spot him and steers it back to Cal's room.
His brother's expression quickly turns from surprise to gratitude.
Ethan grins. "Come on then, get in."
Cal is slow as he lowers himself into the wheelchair but he looks stable and doesn't release even the slightest utterance of pain. "And away, chauffeur!" he says.
Ethan pokes his head out of the door and checks in both directions. He waits for a nurse to retreat around a corner and then deftly manoeuvres the chair into the corridor.
"Hey, Nibbles," Cal says, "You'd better put in more oomph than when you're driving if you want to avoid us getting caught."
"Yeah, well, that's if you can keep quiet for long enough not to alert half the ward."
"Touché, bro."
"Okay," Ethan whispers. "Let's go."
He pushes the wheelchair down the corridor as fast as he feels sensible. But one fatal glance over his shoulder draws the attention of a nurse. Ethan looks away and hopes he was quick enough to avoid her recognising them, but she calls to them and asks them to wait.
"Ethan, run!" Cal says
It's against Ethan's natural traits to disobey someone in authority, but somehow his legs start moving faster and he's pushing the wheelchair with as much energy as his weary body can manage. Although he's focusing on where they're going, his brother has swivelled round to look behind them and is keeping a wide eyed commentary of what the nurse is doing.
"She's following us," he says. "Go faster!"
Ethan takes the final corner wide but reaches the lift with enough time to wait for it to travel from the floor below. As the doors open, the nurse skids around the corner. With one desperate look in her direction, Ethan shoves the wheelchair into the lift and holds his breath as Cal repeatedly jabs at the close button. The doors close to the sight of her face, red from running and open mouthed as she scolds them.
"Gosh," Ethan says. "I'm going to be in so much trouble."
Cal starts to snigger. "Did you see her face?"
Ethan lips twitch as he recalls her look of disbelief as she'd chased after them. Now they've escaped her wrath, he realises how funny it was they'd raced down the corridor in a wheelchair, despite having scolded teenagers for doing the same in the ED on numerous occasions. He bursts out laughing and has to lean against the chair to hold himself upright.
At the sound of his high pitched giggles, Cal starts to laugh harder. They laugh at each other, almost verging on hysteria as the toll of their tough conversation finally melts away.
As the lift doors open, they're caught by a family who eye them strangely as they struggle to maintain a straight face. But outside, Cal grows quieter. Ethan suspects his brother is having difficulty adjusting to the change of environment but from his position behind the wheelchair, he can do no more than hope he's enjoying the fresh air rather than fearful at being so close to where he was stabbed.
Ethan respects the silence until they arrive at the peace garden. Then he crouches down next to Cal. "Alright?"
Cal smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I am now."
Ethan opens the front door of his flat and takes a step back in surprise as he recognises one of the men standing there. The policeman offers a courteous nod which Ethan returns out of impulse rather than intention. Even though he has been working on Cal's case since the day of his attack, Ethan can't shake the impression that the officer doesn't appreciate spending his time corresponding with the victim's anxious brother.
Ethan registers the other man's smart shirt and tie and realises he must be a senior. He holds out his warrant card in the same manner someone would offer a chocolate from a fancy box. "DI Cunningham," he says.
"Um, hello," Ethan replies.
"Is Caleb Knight in?"
"Yeah. Yeah he's here." Ethan stands back to let the officers in. "Cal!"
As he leads them through to the lounge, he hopes he shouted loud enough for Cal to at least crawl out from beneath the duvet they'd been sharing. He wants to explain to the men that he doesn't usually allow such a mess in his flat, but as it is Cal's first full day home they were in the middle of working their way through a boxset.
Cal's on his feet but Ethan suspects it's only because the family sized bag of crisps has fallen to the floor and spilled everywhere.
"Cal," Ethan says. "DI Cunningham."
Ethan watches as Cal's eyes rapidly swivel from the inspector back to him. He nods encouragingly at his brother.
"Right. Hi." Cal says. He drags the duvet from the sofa and shoves it in an empty spot in the corner of the room. "Do you want a coffee? Ethan will put the kettle on."
"That's kind, but no thank you."
Ethan takes a seat, hoping it will prompt his brother to do the same. He notices the police officer scanning his eyes across the mass of prescriptions scattered across the worktop and decides he'll give his brother a few days leeway then request they're tidied into a cupboard.
"How can we help?" Ethan says once it becomes apparent that Cal isn't going to. His shoulders ache with the strain of holding himself stiffly as he waits for the news.
"We've had some new information to consider in your case," the inspector begins, "Specifically, the alibi we were given for Scott Ellison has now been retracted, meaning the injuries he sustained can no longer be attributed to any other altercation. That, alongside the victim statements, has provided us with enough evidence to make an arrest. We have charged him with attempted murder."
Ethan doesn't attempt to disguise his sigh of relief.
"Of course, this will go to trial, and you'll both be required to give evidence under oath," he continues. "Once an initial court date is set, we'll be in touch."
Next to him, his brother's gone very still and silent. Ethan squeezes his knee and it feels unusually brittle. "Cal, he's going to go to prison."
The inspector clears his throat. "If he's found guilty, he'll be looking at a minimum sentence of twelve years." He pauses, perhaps hoping Cal will look up. "I'm obligated to warn you that there's a possibility his solicitor will try to diminish the charge to GBH, but please feel assured the severity of your injuries will be taken into consideration during court."
Ethan's stomach gives a familiar churn. "He nearly died! That's got to be- that's attempted murder! Surely!?"
"As I say, the jury will be provided with a full medical insight."
"Is he getting bail?" Cal's still frozen and his voice is small, but Ethan feels reassured that his brother is calm enough to speak.
The inspector shakes his head. "Even if his solicitor applies for bail, I'm certain it won't be granted."
Cal falls silent again.
"Look," the inspector says. "Scott Ellison has been on our radar for some time. If we can get him sent down for this, it increases our chances of tying him to other violent crimes in the area that he's so far evaded. We're going to do all we can."
Ethan nods, feeling warmer to the two police than he has done so far. But Cal finally moves and by the slump of his shoulders he can tell his brother is less convinced.
"Uh," Cal says. "What if he tries claiming self-defence?" He pauses. "I- I hit him too."
"I know." He gives a kind smile. "I have read your statement." He looks Cal directly in the eye. "Any solicitor who wants their reputation to remain intact would be foolish to suggest self-defence as a charge. It was unnecessary force. Ellison's injuries were no more than cuts and bruises and the fact he was in possession of an offensive weapon shows intent."
Cal nods but as his brother's arm brushes his, Ethan can feel him shaking.
"We'll give you some privacy," the inspector says. He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to Cal. "Call me if you need to discuss your case. I'll be in touch."
Cal accepts the card but immediately passes it to Ethan and folds his arms across his chest as if to avoid any chance of the card being returned to him.
Ethan leaves his brother on the sofa and shows the police the way out. Once the door is shut, he turns and leans heavily against it. He twirls the DI's business card between his fingers. Although he's light-headed with relief, he knows that a court case could take months and he doesn't know how much strength either he or Cal have left. He remains in the hallway for a few moments longer than necessary to take a few deep breaths while out of his brother's eyesight.
He forces himself to stop frowning and return to the lounge. He pauses in the doorway and watches Cal remove a cushion seat from the sofa with one hand, the other clasped to his chest to prevent the movement causing strain on his injuries.
"You okay?" Ethan asks.
"Lost the bloody remote."
"I meant-"
"Yeah, I know what you meant," Cal snaps. He sighs. "Sorry." He chucks the seat back onto the sofa and sits down on it, despite it not fully being in place. "Despite the whopping holes in my chest, it still doesn't feel real sometimes. But it's hard to forget when they turn up on our doorstep."
Ethan sits next to him. He immediately spots the remote hiding under the coffee table but opts not to mention it so that his brother is forced to speak to him rather than submerge himself in another ninety minute episode. "It'sgood news though, Cal."
Cal idly flips the duvet on the floor in an attempt to find the remote, but Ethan can tell he's making little effort. "Is it?"
"Are you worried about giving evidence?"
Cal hesitates. "Do you remember that time Mum forced me to do a piano recital even though I always messed up on the fast bit of Frère Jacques?"
Ethan remembers being about five, sat on his adoptive mother's lap and watching Cal freeze on stage, refusing to play the piano he had been positioned in front of. He smiles at the memory of one of the few times his confident older brother has embarrassed himself, but can't work out why Cal has brought it up now.
"Well, I feel like that," Cal says. "Except worse, because I can't exactly run off and lock myself in the toilets this time."
"It will be okay."
"Yeah. My word against his though…"
"Our word against his. Who do you think is more reliable, two doctors or a thug with a criminal record?"
Cal shrugs but Ethan knows his brother will have understood the point. He retrieves the remote from beneath the coffee table and passes it over.
Cal's fingers hover over the play button but he doesn't press it. "What about you? You hate public speaking."
"Ah," Ethan grimaces. "Yes, I do. But this is different. I can do it for you, to put things right."
"Ethan…" Cal drags out his name. He puts the remote down next to him, out of use. "You promised to stop giving yourself a hard time. There's nothing you need to put right."
"I should have been there."
"You were."
"Caleb, I-"
"No, hear me out." Cal swivels to face him. "I'm not having this. You've been there for me my whole life, even the times I haven't deserved it, like with Taylor, or the times I've tried to shut you out, you know, through all the stuff with little Matilda and then Emilie. You've put me to bed when I've been drunk and cleaned up my sick more times than I can remember. You bailed me out with money throughout my twenties even though we weren't getting on for most of it."
"Well, you're my brother-" Ethan begins.
"I'm still speaking." Cal says, with a bossy grin that rapidly fades. "And now, these past few weeks, you've been there for me every single day. I mean, Ethan, you found me, for God's sake. And then you've put up with me being moody and needy or humiliating myself by crying. Honestly, I couldn't have got through it without you. So I swear, if I hear you say one more time that you haven't done enough, I'm going to… well," he pauses, "I can't do much at the moment, so you'll just have to live in fear of what I'm going to do when I'm better."
Ethan manages a watery chuckle. "I always live in fear of what you're going to do next anyway."
Cal huffs in amusement. "I like to keep you on your toes," he replies. "But, seriously, Ethan, thank you. For everything."
Ethan's gaze falls to the floor. It hurts to see the intensity in Cal's eyes, as if his brother truly believes that he's done no wrong. Ethan can't imagine ever being completely free from the guilt, but with Cal improving every day, he's determined to focus on the things he has to be thankful for instead.
"Whatever happens next, I know you'll look after me," Cal says. "And the same applies to you. I promise, Ethan, you've got me for life."
Ethan nods but he finds there's a lump in his throat and his reply ends up sounding strangled. "We'll get through everything as brothers."
He's still trying to compose himself when he finds a bag of crisps being thrust into his hand. He throws them a look of mistrust, suspecting the majority are the same that had fallen on the floor, but his inspection is halted by Cal dragging the duvet back over the two of them.
"Snuggle down, Nibbles, we've got a marathon to get through."
Ethan's not sure whether his brother is intentionally changing the subject or whether Cal's oblivious to how much of an impact his words have had. He looks up at his brother to try to decipher which, but he can feel a soppy grin creeping onto his face.
Cal notices he's being watched and stretches out to put an arm around Ethan's shoulders and pull him closer.
"That doesn't hurt you, does it?"
"Not really."
Ethan relaxes into the embrace. As the programme starts, he becomes aware he can feel Cal's heart beating against his cheek. He smiles.
His brother is alive.
