I'm sorry, this was meant to go up yesterday, and, although I said it would, I maybe, might have, accidentally, probably, kind of...forgotten about putting it . But, to make up for it, I'll post the next chapter tonight!

"Dr. Hardy not coming in today, Dr. Knight?"

"No, he's not feeling too well. I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow." Cal blurted out. Connie just nodded and walked off.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Cal."

Ethan was sat at home, in front of the TV. Empty alcohol bottles scattered by him. In the time Cal was doing his shift, all Ethan had done was move from his bed to the sofa, and drink. He couldn't bring himself to go to work, there was no point anymore. He'd given into it, into them, his guilt, and it was slowly eating him alive. He could only pick up an alcohol bottle and down it. He was too guilt-ridden to do anything else. BEEP. It was a text from Cal. Why was Cal texting him? Ethan groaned as he bent over the side of the sofa to pick it up from where it had been carelessly left after it dropped.

Coming home, but passing shops. Need anything?

Cal

Ethan wanted to ask him for some alcohol- he'd finished all of his stash, but his brother wouldn't approve. He'd know if the usually sober Ethan was having a problem if he was drunk.

No. I'm going out anyway, see you soon.

Ethan

He grabbed all of his empty alcohol bottles and threw them under his bed, carefully concealing it amongst other days' worth of drinking bottles. He looked around under there. It was like a bomb had hit a pub. He dismissed that thought and clasped his coat. He then trudged out into the cold evening air, hoping to get rid of his awful headache, brought on by his hangover that ad started to make itself known- much to Ethan's disappointment.

Ten minutes later, Ethan stumbled slightly, then looked up, and to his delight, he was right next to a pub. He searched around in his pocket, feeling for his wallet. When he finally discovered it, in amongst scraps of paper and tissue, he opened it, and to his disappointment, found meager amounts of money. Oh well, at least I'll get something to drink. There's none left at home. He didn't bother to register the name of the pub, his mouth was already watering, and he strode inside, and immediately had shot after shot. A familiar voice behind him made him snap out of his thoughts, and he now realised, he'd subconsciously walked to the pub near the ED. Great.

"You didn't turn up for work?" Lofty questioned.

"Yeah, what happened?" Max asked, his worry growing for the struggling but drunk doctor. Ethan didn't bother to answer; he could already feel his chest getting tighter and his breathing quickening. Before anyone had a chance to stop him, he pushed past Lofty and Max, then growled and continued to push past Charlie and Robyn. He needed to get out of there, as quick as he could.

"What's wrong with him? Cal told me he was unwell." Robyn examined the empty shot glasses occupying the tabletop where Ethan previously stood- well, swayed.

"Maybe I should go and talk to him." Charlie suggested. Lofty nodded and Charlie made his way to find Ethan, hoping to get some sense out of him.

I walked out of the pub, not caring about my four colleagues. They'd probably question me, but I had more important things to do, like sleeping off this headache for one.

He stumbled along the pavement, his pulse rapidly increasing. He was as drunk as a sailor, and as panicked as a dying man. He felt like he was dying, he thought he was going to die. He could hear his name being called, but he didn't know who by. Sounds became muffled as his vision blurred. He knees buckled from underneath him as he collapsed on the ground, shaking, sweating, and feeling like death warmed up. Then, he was there all over again. Screeching brakes, glass smashing around him. Screams, many screams. Dizziness. Darkness. He heard his name being called. Who was calling him? Why were they? Where was he?

"Ethan, you've been in a car crash mate." His voice rang inside Ethan's ears. It was Jeff's voice. It was the man he killed. Then, there was another voice.

"Ethan?" It wasn't Jeff's, but he couldn't pinpoint whose it was. He dismissed it. He thought of Jeff. He saved his life, but Jeff wouldn't have died if it wasn't for him. Screeching brakes, glass smashing around him. Screams, many screams. Dizziness. Darkness. All he could see was darkness. His vision wasn't getting better, if anything, it was getting worse. He was gasping for air, as if his life depended on it. He felt hands clasp is shoulders. Was he lying down? He couldn't tell. Screeching brakes, glass smashing around him. Screams, many screams. Dizziness. Darkness. "ETHAN!" The voice was louder. Who was it? He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he had a splitting headache, he couldn't breathe. Was this the end?

I had to leave it there! But, you'll get the next chapter soon... Please review so I know whether or not you are enjoying it!