Trigger warning: We're talking mental health in this chapter, including references to self-harm and suicide. Please don't read this chapter if this will negatively impact your own mental health. I'll do a brief recap at the top of the next chapter to let you know what happens so you don't miss out on any key narrative points.

Chapter 10: Fear and failure

"So, how often do you have to do this?"

Johnny looked horrified at the tubing that was extracting the blood from Carla's body, processing it through the machine that was filtering it clean, and then pumping the clean blood through even more tubing back into her body through the specially inserted catheter near his daughter's neck.

"Three times a week, about four hours each time," Carla was matter-of-fact.

"I feel so useless."

"Please don't say that. The fact is, there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

"I could give you one of my kidneys. Not that they'd be much use, their next stop's the knackers yard."

Both father and daughter laughed briefly before the reality of the situation hit them hard and their laughter abruptly died.

"Let's just hope Aidan comes through, ey?"

"Yeah," Carla wasn't so sure. She detested the thought of begging her brother for something so life-changing. Not just for her; for him even more so.

An awkward silence fell; Johnny fidgeted in his seat.

"Oh, love, I feel so useless."

Carla sighed in frustration.

"You've already said that, Johnny. Look, if this –" Carla waved at the dialysis machinery "– if this is making you uncomfortable, you don't have to stay –"

"No! I wanna be here, I wanna support you, I just… I don't know how. I don't…"

"What? Spit it out, Johnny."

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"I guess."

"Well I do. But… I don't – we don't – we don't really know each other, do we? I mean, not really, not like I do Kate and Aidan. Or you with Rob?"

What was Johnny playing at? Carla wondered. Did he really think this was helping her?

"What do you expect? I mean, you did ignore me for the first forty years of my life."

Johnny was taken aback at the sudden brutality of Carla's words.

"I, umm, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I thought we'd gotten past all that?"

"No, we just don't talk about it."

"You wanna talk about it now?"

"No, I don't wanna talk about it now. I want you to stop wallowing in self-pity over what a terrible father you've been."

"I'm not wall –"

"It might've escaped your notice, Johnny, but I'm busy dying over here. I don't have the energy to deal with your paternal guilt."

An alarm on the dialysis machine sounded.

"Love, you need to calm down."

"Don't call me love."

A nurse rushed into the room and examined the machine.

"What's wrong?"

"Your blood pressure's a little high."

"That's easily fixed," Carla turned to Johnny. "You should go."

"Carla, please."

Carla lost her patience.

"Get out!"

"I'm sorry." Johnny retreated from the room as tears fell down Carla's cheeks.

A soft knock at the door woke Carla from the fitful sleep she'd fallen into not long after her argument with Johnny.

She slowly opened her eyes; Peter.

"Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm fine. Bored. A bit weird actually."

"Weird? How so?"

Carla nodded at the dialysis machine.

"Watching my blood outside my body being pumped through a machine. It's weird."

Peter laughed. He sat down on the end of Carla's bed and gave her leg a friendly squeeze through the blankets that covered her body.

"All by your lonesome?"

"Johnny was here but, umm, we had words and I told him to do one."

"Oh?"

"I might've overreacted."

"You overreact? Never."

Peter couldn't help but smirk; of course Carla reacted.

"Shut up. Or I'll kick you out and all."

Peter didn't push; he just waited until Carla was ready to talk.

"I feel like maybe I was being selfish. By not indulging his guilt."

"Guilt? Over what?"

"Him being a useless dad to me growing up."

"You've every right to be angry at him for that."

"But he was right, we'd gotten past that ages ago."

"Are you sure?"

"No. It was more I stopped talking about it. I didn't wanna make a fuss. I mean, of course I'm not gonna get over it just like that."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"The stupid thing is, that's not really why I was upset. I was being selfish in not caring about how he felt. Because I don't know how else to get through this. I've got just enough energy to worry about what's happening to me, and what's gonna happen to Jamie. That's it. I'm at capacity, you know?"

Peter held Carla's hand in his.

"I know."

"Peter," Carla's voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"What is it, love?"

"I am so scared."

Again, the tears started to flow down Carla's cheeks.

"You know I've been in some pretty scary situations before. But they all came out of nowhere. All of a sudden. They happened. And then they were over. Tony, the bistro robbery, even Frank. But this. This is so much worse. To feel your body slowly shutting down, slowly dying, and not be able to do a damn thing to stop it. That kind of fear, it doesn't go away; it lives with you, in here."

Carla tapped her abdomen, just under her breast.

"It's the most terrifying thing I can think of."

"Oh, love," Peter didn't know what to say.

Carla didn't need him to say anything; just him being there holding her hand was enough.

Aidan stared at the consultant in shock and disbelief.

"No. You've got it wrong. I'm a match."

"Physically, yes, you are. But the team have got serious concerns about your mental health. Your psychological assessment report shows that –"

"I'm not crazy!"

"Aidan, that's not what I'm saying. Donating a kidney is a huge decision. It's life-altering. We don't feel that you're in the right frame of mind to be making those kinds of decisions."

"Why does it even matter? Surely if I'm a physical match, then that should be enough?"

"We have to take into account every aspect of the donors –"

"Don't you understand, my sister is going to die if she doesn't get a new kidney."

"I'm aware of that, but that's not my primary concern. It's my job to look after your best interests and your welfare. I'm on your side, Aidan."

"My best interests? It's in my best interests for my sister to stay alive. That's all I care about."

"I understand she's undergoing dialysis –"

"That's just a stop-gap."

"– And she's on the waiting list –"

"Which could take years. I'm here now. I want to give her a kidney now."

"Aidan, I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist –"

"You're not listening to me!"

Aidan stood up abruptly.

"Why won't you listen to me?!"

The consultant held out a business card to Aidan.

"Like I said, I'm referring you to a psychiatrist. They'll be able to give you the help you need."

Aidan snatched the card out of the consultant's hand and tore it to shreds.

"Unless they're willing to cut me open, take out a kidney and put it in my sister then they can't help me."

He tossed the tiny pieces of business card at the consultant.

"You're all useless! You're meant to save lives. But you've just given my sister a death sentence!"

Aidan turned and stormed out of the consultant's office.

Aidan stumbled down the hallways of the hospital, unseeing, in a daze. He had no idea where he was going, but, as if by a miracle, he ended up outside Carla's room.

He stood by the door, he couldn't bring himself to open it, to see the look on Carla's face when he told her he'd failed.

He was a failure; he knew it. How could he let her down like this? How could his own mind let her down like this? He was useless – thump; he hit himself on the head with the heel of his palm – he was a failure – thump; he hit himself again – he didn't deserve to live – thump, thump, thump. He dropped his head to his hands and sobbed.

Finally, he composed himself. He knew he couldn't let Carla, not anyone, see his mask slip, not even a bit. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the door to Carla's hospital room.

Carla looked up and smiled when she saw Aidan.

"Well?"

Aidan looked nervously at Peter who was still sat on the edge of Carla's bed.

"Oh, I'll, umm, I'll give you two a minute."

"Thanks," Aidan was grateful to Peter, who quietly slipped out of the room.

Aidan took the few short steps to Carla's bedside. He wished the distance was many miles rather than mere steps; he wasn't ready to break his sister's heart.

Aidan sat down; he looked down.

"I'm sorry."

"Aidan? Look at me. Please."

Aidan slowly looked up. His cheeks glistened with the tears that were silently falling from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"You're not a match?"

"I failed the test. I'm sorry."

Aidan dropped his head to the bed, his forehead rested on Carla's thigh. Carla reached out and gently stroked Aidan's head.

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay. It's not your fault."

"It is, it's my fault. Mine only."

"No, of course it's not. You couldn't have done more and I'm so grateful that you offered. I really am."

Aidan looked up tearfully and fixed his eyes on Carla's.

"I promise you, I'm gonna fix this. I'm gonna change their minds, okay? I'll sort it out. I promise."