As always thank you so much to those who left a review - it really does mean so much to hear what you think.

I can't believe originally I'd planned for this chapter and the last to just be one, as there was just so much details I wanted to include. Apologies if any of the medical stuff is wrong, I've made it as accurate as I can.

Hope you enjoy

Chapter 11

Before Ethan even had a chance to move, the room was filled with police. Both assailants were tackled to the floor and roughly handcuffed. As an officer recited their arrest warrant, Dixie and Iain squeezed past the commotion and ran to Cal's side.

His brother was still hyperventilating and Ethan could do nothing but watch as Dixie placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and tried to talk him through getting his breathing back to normal.

Iain ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, Ethan, what's happened here?"

Ethan's head was spinning as the day's events replayed themselves, every instance blurring together in his mind. He shook his head, unable to form a coherent sentence to explain how Cal had got in this position. "He needs help," he said instead; the only thing that remained clear.

"That's what we're here for," Iain replied, with a grim smile. He pulled some scissors from his medical kit and began to snip at the rope that was binding Cal to the pillar. The rope was thick and not what the scissors were designed to cut, but Iain persisted.

By the time Cal's arms were finally free his breathing was much calmer, but the oxygen mask remained protectively over his mouth. The paramedics worked together to lower Cal onto his back on the floor but despite their gentleness, he still groaned loudly. His eyes were tightly shut and his whole body was trembling.

"Okay, Cal," Dixie said. "I'm just going to cut this top from you and have a look what's going on. Stay nice and calm for me, okay, sweetheart."

As Dixie started to carry out the same checks he had done earlier, Ethan's mind suddenly kicked into action. "I've done that already," he said. "I- I think broken ribs, internal bleeding. There's a bump to the back of the head as well as the visible lacerations. Possible mild concussion. Dehydration. Erm-"

"Okay Ethan, thank you," Dixie calmly interrupted. "You've done a really good job. He's going to be fine."

She laid one of Cal's arms flat and tapped at his wrist to find a vein. Her first attempt with the needle didn't work and she tutted, muttering something about dehydration. However, her years of experience presented themselves on her second try, and she slid the needle smoothly into a vein. She attached a saline drip to the other end gently squeezed the bag, getting some much needed fluids into Cal's body.

Ethan exhaled. He drew his legs to his chest. Now he wasn't of any use, he began to realise how cold and uncomfortable the floor was. He had no idea how Cal had managed to withstand sitting on it for so long. Fear crept into his throat again, as he remembered how long his brother had been imprisoned for.

It was painful to look at Cal. The cuts and bruises across his body were among the worst Ethan had seen from a beating throughout all his time working as a doctor. And it was terrifying how different his brother looked from the swelling and contusions on his face. Ethan removed his glasses but it didn't help; although he could see Cal less clearly, he still knew it was his big brother lying there, suffering and only barely conscious.

Ethan managed to pull his gaze from Cal in time to see police officers leading the second and final brother from the room. The man was struggling. His hands were cuffed but he was using his shoulders to try to escape from the firm grip of the policemen, throwing his body from side to side. The officers seemed unperturbed and lead him from the room with an air of confidence. Just before they shoved him through the exit, the brother spun around and his glare met Ethan's. Neither brother looked like their mother; while Paula was petite, they were both broad and muscular. However, the hatred on his face was identical to hers.

He quickly looked away and back to the scene unfolding in front of him. Cal was close to finally regaining his previous level of consciousness, but only to bat weakly at the collar Dixie was attempting to fit around neck.

"No, sweetheart," she said. "You need that on."

"Don't want it," he replied groggily, his voice faint through the oxygen mask. "Please. Neck's fine."

Dixie looked to Iain for confirmation. He shrugged, so she turned to Ethan. "What do you reckon?"

"He needs it on." He moved closer to Cal. "It's just until we get to the hospital, okay, you'll be fine."

Cal squeezed his eyes shut again and murmured something indistinct.

Ethan leaned over his brother and lifted the oxygen mask the tiniest bit away from his mouth. "Say that again, Caleb, I couldn't hear."

"S'like being trapped," he said.

Ethan grabbed his brother's hand. They seldom had physical contact with each other, and even when they did, it was so rare that the touch had any meaning. So Ethan was unsure how, with one squeeze of his brother's hand, he could convey everything he wished to say; that he was there for him, that everything would be okay. Cal's cold fingers curled around his and his breathing seemed to calm.

"Okay," he murmured. "Just stay with me."

"Of course," Ethan replied. He nodded his consent to Dixie.

The paramedics worked to secure Cal's neck and strap him safely to the spinal board.

Ethan kept his hand in his brother's for as long as he could but was forced to let go so he could be carried up the narrow stairway. It was a slow process and Ethan trailed at the back, torn between wanting to remind his colleagues to keep their footing secure and to beg them to hurry up. He had never suffered from claustrophobia, but stuck in the staircase, unable to see ahead of him and with only the torturous basement behind, his throat began to feel tight. He longed for fresh air.

When they eventually got outside, Ethan lingered in the garden. Away from Dixie's perceptive eyes, he took a few deep breaths. Neighbours were starting to gather around the property now, wondering the cause of the commotion. The lady next door was demanding her children stayed inside, but a young boy kept peeping out, curiosity beating his mother's warnings. It reminded Ethan of the day many years ago, when he and Cal spied on Paula on their doorstep.

Ethan climbed in the ambulance and sat by Dixie on the bench. He clasped his brother's hand again and saw Cal's gaze swivel to his. He knew his brother was close to panicking and he understood why. During the small frames of consciousness Ethan remembered after the crash, he had hated having his movements restricted by the collar and board. For Cal, it must be worse, the constraints a reminder of being tied up, scared and alone.

He felt every painful bump of the journey with his brother. Although the ambulance was speeding through the streets of Holby, sirens blaring, every second felt prolonged. Dixie's movements as she administered another dose of morphine seemed to be in slow motion. Ethan wondered if they would ever reach the sanctuary of the hospital. But eventually, the ambulance stopped and the back doors were flung open. Movement encased him and suddenly everything was on fast-forward as staff and colleagues swarmed around the ambulance, grabbing at equipment and sliding Cal's trolley out towards safety.

Ethan heard his name and looked blankly into Robyn's face.

"Come on," she said. "Cal needs you."

The simple statement was enough to wake Ethan from his daze. He shook himself. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I'm coming." He stumbled slightly as he jumped down from the ambulance, but it didn't take him long to catch up with the trolley as it sped towards Resus.

Cal's been imprisoned for the last eight days," Dixie explained to the team, "During that time he has had been assaulted twice but the majority of the injuries come from the most recent beating, which we believe occurred yesterday. He was KO'd during both incidents and has drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the imprisonment. He's been without food or water and is presenting as severely dehydrated." She paused long enough to help the team transfer Cal from the trolley onto a bed. "He has a GCS of twelve. Pulse is one-fifty, BP ninety systolic. He's had five of morphine and nearly two litres of saline. The head injuries appear superficial on first inspection but we're concerned about the chest trauma, particularly as he's tachycardic and has been for some time."

"Okay, thanks Dixie," Connie said. She pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows and approached the bed. "Hi, Cal," she said, unusually gently, "It's Mrs Beauchamp. You're going to be fine."

"Where's Ethan?" he murmured through the oxygen mask.

Connie turned and beckoned him over.

Ethan made him way numbly to stand by his brother's side. Cal was surrounded by so much medical equipment that he seemed much smaller than normal and the fear on his face made him look younger. "Can we take the collar off soon?" Ethan asked. "He's scared with it on. I told him it would only be until we got here."

Connie gave him a scolding look. "My patient, Doctor Hardy and you know, as a relative, that you can't have anything to do with his treatment."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Okay. But understand if there are any further interruptions, you will have to step outside."

Ethan bowed his head in understanding, and put a comforting hand on his brother's bare shoulder.

Connie's firm hands worked their way down Cal's chest. He winced at the first touch and let out another pained cry as she pressed against the sorest area. She replaced her fingers with her stethoscope and listened intently to the beat of his heart. "Still tachycardic." She checked the monitor "His pulse has increased to one hundred and sixty. Nurse Miller, book a CT now, I want both his chest and head scanned urgently."

The heart monitor attached to Cal started beeping.

Ethan spun around to read it. "Pulse is through the roof," he said.

"Right, scrap the CT," Connie said. "There's no time. I need an ultrasound over here. Now!"

Ethan looked to his brother. His breaths were rapid and shallow and a horrible rasping noise was coming from his throat. "He can't breathe," he said. "Do something!"

"You need to step back," Connie ordered as she placed the ultrasound scanner on Cal's chest.

Ethan stayed where he was, all eyes focused on his brother as he struggled to catch his breath.

"He's got a haemothorax," Connie said. "We need to insert a chest drain. Ethan, move."

"I- I want to help," Ethan said. "He needs, erm-"

Connie swung to face him, eyes blaring. "He needs my sole attention," she said. "You're not helping. Get out."

"Please, I-"

"Out!" Connie demanded. She turned her back on him and picked up the large needle that needed inserting into Cal's chest to drain the collection of blood.

Ethan felt his peripheral vision blur at the sight and was grateful for the strong arms that gripped his shoulders and led him out of Resus. He had no idea when Charlie got into the room, but was grateful for the man's presence.

"He'll be okay," the older man said, calm as always. "It's a simple procedure, you know that."

"I- I can't lose him, Charlie, I-"

"And you're not going to. Connie knows what she's doing."

"But, I- What if- He-" Ethan broke off, unable to assemble a full sentence. He turned back towards Resus and put a hand on the door, ready to push it open and re-enter the room.

Charlie placed a warning hand on his arm. It wouldn't have done much if Ethan had chosen to fight it, but the gesture provided enough comfort to stall his movements.

"I know it's scary to watch a loved one in trouble," Charlie said. "I know."

"No-one would help," Ethan said. He felt his eyes pricking with emotion. "I should have found him sooner."

Ethan's vision was obscured as tears flooded his eyes. He stared through the clear doors to Resus, blinking furiously, to try to see what was going on. He couldn't see his brother for the amount of staff surrounding his bed, trying their best to stabilise his condition.