Hello! I know it's been a while again, and for that, I am super sorry. A combination of final year of uni, work, socialising and a lack of inspiration because of the shitty Cal/Ethan storyline right now has contributed to my non-update.

I hope you like this chapter, though! It focuses a lot on how the whole situation has affected Cal. I like to call this chapter, 'Cal's Downfall'. Please review if you have the time! Any suggestions are also always greatly appreciated.

Hope you enjoy! x

Ethan had resolved to keep his eyes closed. The constant movement and lights and clearly unnecessary prodding required little attention on his part, and he couldn't stand the pity that radiated from those around him. Plus, everything was a little fuzzy. Not so fuzzy that he couldn't see the way the doctors and nurses, even those who knew him well, hesitated before they came near him. Not so fuzzy that he couldn't see the way people huddled in a group near the door and whispered about him. No. He could see all that. It was all just much easier with his eyes shut.

He wondered where Cal had disappeared to. He hoped he was sleeping, or eating, or talking to someone, but the more rational side of him inevitably took over and he knew he should be concerned about Cal's whereabouts. Cal didn't deal with situations like this very well.

Situations like this. Had they ever confronted a situation like this before? Ethan couldn't remember the last time he had felt so lost. What was happening to him? He was awake. He was lucid. He knew who everyone was and where he was and what people were saying to him. But there was a barrier of sorts, a threshold, between him and the outside world. Like he was the circus lion and everyone else were just paying visitors.

Great. Ethan rolled his eyes behind his closed lids. Now he was making metaphors. Maybe he really was going mad. He began to list in his head the chronological steps of an appendectomy. It was one of the first things he'd read in the first ever medical textbook he'd picked up. What if he began to forget? He couldn't forget. Medicine was his life. How could he help people if he couldn't speak? He needed to get better, and forget this whole thing ever happened.

And like everything else in his life, he knew that wouldn't come easily.

There was a loud crack as Cal dropped another bottle atop the four empties. The glass lay broken in the box Ethan had carefully named 'Recycling', under which he had written a list of what was allowed. Underneath, there was another Sharpie message: 'Cal – no broken glass'.

Cal scoffed as he reread the message. He remembered mocking Ethan when he wrote it, promising to check the list every time he threw something away, and never actually reading it at all. Tonight, he had scanned it over ten times.

He grabbed another bottle from the box on the kitchen counter, noting that there were only three bottles left. He paused, his body swaying as he worked hard to figure out where the alcohol had gone. After a few failed equations and seriously considering the possibility that someone was in his house and stealing his beer, Cal laughed out loud. He'd drunk three in the car, of course.

He pictured Ethan's face upon finding out that Cal had literally been drinking and driving, simultaneously. He would say, 'Caleb, what is wrong with you?' or, perhaps, 'Caleb, what were you thinking? You could have killed someone!' Ethan would have probably thrown the first punch; he always did, especially when Cal goaded him first.

But there was no one to brawl with. Cal grabbed another bottle from the box, cracked open both and stumbled to the living room to drink them. It was the first time he'd set foot in there since the brothers had left for work the day it happened. He flung himself onto the cushions, Ethan's voice grumbling, 'Caleb, I just tidied in here.'

Everywhere he looked, he was there.

'Lofty,' the gravelly voice of Charlie Fairhead spoke from behind the nurse. 'Have you heard from Cal?'

Lofty turned, his brow furrowing. 'Not since last night—' he winced. 'Is he in trouble? About…?'

'No,' Charlie reassured, holding his hands up. 'He was supposed to go home to get some sleep while Ethan had his MRI scan, but he's not answering his phone and no one's heard from him for hours. Which is odd, considering he was—'

'What about Ethan?' Lofty had always been a little slow on the uptake, but even he was a little ashamed that Max, eavesdropping, had asked this question before him.

'He woke up,' Charlie said slowly, tilting his head. 'Didn't Cal tell you?'

'No,' Lofty shook his head, 'I haven't heard a thing from him since he went Muhammad Ali on that guy downstairs—'

'I saw him,' Max interrupted. The two men looked towards him. 'Yeah, he was… he was leaving. He looked pretty confused. I bumped into him outside, but he didn't say anything; he just… went straight to his car.'

Charlie sighed. 'I think he needs someone with him right now. I don't trust him not to do something stupid. I'd go find him but Mrs Beauchamp needs me upstairs—'

'I'll go,' Lofty interjected. 'I'll bring him back here.'

'Yeah, and I can go with,' Max nodded. 'The patients can wheel themselves for half an hour.'

'Thanks, guys,' Charlie half-smiled at the pair. 'When you find him, take him up to Mr Self. He said he needs to talk to him about Ethan's scan.'

'Oh, piss off!' Cal killed the phone mid-ring as he yanked the cord out of the wall on his way to his bedroom. In his left hand swung a bottle of vodka, one he had stashed behind the cereal after throwing a party Ethan hadn't approved of. Stumbling, he fell absently against his brother's bedroom door, forehead pressed against the panels. Pushing down on the handle, he allowed the weight of his body to open the door, falling into the room and onto the bed directly in front of him.

'Shit,' he hissed as the vodka seeped into the bed sheets. What a waste, he thought as he brought the bottle back to his mouth.

Turning over, with difficulty, something on Ethan's bedside table caught his eye. Cal dropped the bottle on the floor, upright, of course, and picked the item up. Ethan's spare glasses. He knew his brother always kept them there, 'in case of emergency'. Cal rolled his eyes. Classic Nibbles. Always prepared.

He swung his body heavily off the bed, grabbed the vodka, and stared in the mirror. Haphazardly he pushed the glasses onto his own face, although he could tell he was stretching them. He took another swig from the bottle, smiled lopsidedly.

'Caleb, don't sit there,' he mocked at himself in the mirror. 'Caleb, don't eat that. Caleb, one of these days,' he pointed the bottle at the mirror, losing his footing, 'you're going to get me fired.' He cocked his head, suddenly noticing the dampness on his face. 'Caleb, you ruin everything.'

And with a reverberating explosion of glass, Cal threw the bottle at the mirror, letting the shards fall at his feet. With a surge of emotion, he shoved Ethan's belongings off of his bedside table, pushed it over, reached under the mattress and tipped the whole thing upwards. Ethan's perfectly placed cologne bottle, standing mirror, and box of "mementoes" met the same fate. The chest itself also went down. Eventually, having destroyed everything in sight, Cal dropped to his knees, the same way he had in the ED, only this time he fell on his own destruction. There was no pain, though; right now, Cal could only feel utter desperation.

But his rampage wasn't finished yet. He pulled himself up, crunching glass as he left the room and headed for the kitchen. But before he could do any more than kicking the door open so hard something definitely cracked, there was a knock from the front door. Cal's head jolted toward the noise, frozen. They'll go away. But seconds later, the doorbell rang. Then, the letterbox opened. Someone said his name. Twice.

He grabbed one of the last beer bottles and cracked it open. He straightened his shirt, blew out a shaky breath and blinked furiously to mask his emotions. He actually thought he was doing pretty well until the shocked faces of his friends greeted him at his door.

'Hey, guys,' Cal forced out, trying to subdue his slurs.

'I didn't know you wore glasses,' Lofty replied, pointing at Cal's face. He'd forgotten he still had them on.

'He doesn't,' Max said roughly, pushing through the door, past Cal, and grabbing the glasses off his face.

'Hey!' Cal protested. 'Give those back!'

'Hey, hey,' Lofty grabbed his friend by the shoulders and turned him to face him. 'Are you—are you drunk?' he exclaimed incredulously, scrunching the nose at the smell. He grasped Cal harder by the shoulders. 'Cal, are you seriously drunk?'

'Of course he is, Lofty,' Max replied. 'Look at him; he's a mess.'

'Max, I swear to God, if you don't give me those back, I'll—'

'Oh, calm down, Cal. What am I going to do with them?'

'Max, if you—!'

'Max, just give them back.'

Cal felt comforted as he pocketed the glasses. He allowed Lofty to guide him to his own living room, but snatched the bottle away from both men when they tried to take it from him. He fell like a dead weight onto the couch, the beer fizzing and spilling onto his shirt.

'Cal, come on, mate,' Lofty stood above him. Cal was sure he'd never been that tall. 'Give us the beer. Ethan wouldn't want this.'

'You don't know what he wants,' Cal spat out, taking gulps of the alcohol. 'Ha,' he pronounced. 'No one does.' His voice raised a couple of octaves. 'Because he can't fucking talk, can he?'

Lofty and Max exchanged glances.

'You know, I always kind of wished he'd stop talking,' Cal continued, his words strung together clumsily. 'And now he has. Maybe it's my fault.'

'I…' Lofty knew he was going to say the wrong thing, but he needed to fill the silence. 'I thought he'd woken up?'

'Oh, oh, yeah, he woke up,' Cal replied, swallowing more of the beer. 'No thanks to me, of course. But he can't get the words… from here,' the bottle bumped against Cal's skull, 'to here,' he finished, swigging again.

'You know, I… I always thought it'd be me. Not him. Not… my little man; my baby bro,' Cal knew he wasn't making any sense aloud, but his drunken stupor convinced him that his friends understood. 'My better half,' he slurred, appearing calmer. Then he raised the bottle at Lofty's face, flashing a lopsided, toothy grin. 'Cheers to that, mate,' he articulated, but his voice trembled. 'Cheers… to the better brother,' he mumbled, arm buoyed.

Lofty grabbed the bottle out of Cal's outstretched hand and watched as the man went to drink it anyway, visibly confused when nothing met his lips. 'You're a mess, mate. Come on, get up. Drink some water.'

'Can I go see him?' Cal's voice was suddenly childlike.

'I… don't think that's a good idea.'

'Why?'

Lofty rubbed his fingers against his forehead. 'Max, a little help?'

Max shrugged. 'I think he should go.'

'See?!'

'Max, are you mad?' Lofty rebutted, gesturing with the confiscated beer bottle. 'Look at him; he can barely stand.'

'If you won't take me,' Cal heaved his body from the couch, stumbling into another person before reaching for where he vaguely remembered throwing the keys. 'I'll drive myself.'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, Schumacher,' Max pulled the keys from Cal's grasp and pushed himself between him and the exit. 'Lofty, see what I mean? If we don't take him, he's gonna find another way there.'

'I'm still here,' Cal protested, his body swaying forward.

'Yeah, barely,' Max scoffed, widening his eyes at Lofty. 'Mate. Come on. He probably needs to go to hospital anyway.'

'Oh, whatever,' Lofty reluctantly backed down, still unsure if he was doing the right thing.

With one on each side, the two men bundled Cal into the backseat of Lofty's car. Neither discovered the carnage Cal had left in Ethan's bedroom. That would have to wait until another day.

So the boys will be reunited next chapter. Yay!

I have to ask, do you guys have a preference as to whether Ethan's condition is physical or mental? I'm still on the fence about the whole thing. Let me know :)

I hope to update this soon! But given my track record, it's probably best I make no promises. I'm going to really, really try to update this in the next week! Until then, lots of love x