westlife4ever80, thank you for your review. I don't think Dylan is used to being along with a woman. I think it's fair to say Angela is very interested in Dylan! But I'm sure she'd never try to steal him from Zoe. Cal is a sweetheart - let's hope he can get through to Ethan.
X-Sammii-X, I agree it isn't Cal's fault - he might have worked it out if he'd examined Ethan a bit more closely, but it was only later the doubts started to creep in. Ethan did a very good job of fooling him! Thank you for your review.
Panicatcasualty123, thank you for your review. I'm sure Cal will try to help Ethan. Dylan doesn't usually seem to have friendships, so I don't think he's thought about how Zoe might view him having lunch with Angela... but she will find out!
Tanith Panic, yes, I will write it my way! But I'll always take suggestions into consideration, so you never know... I'm glad you liked the part about Dervla - I see Dervla as being slightly cheeky sometimes (which is probably good for Dylan) but very loving. I'm glad you liked the ending! Thank you for your review and PM.
LoveFiction2016, thank you for your review - I'm really pleased you're enjoying it.
"Oh my goodness! I didn't mean… I'm so sorry." Angela looked deeply embarrassed. "I didn't mean it like that, Dylan. I'm sure you don't… get to know them in that way. I didn't mean to suggest that you'd…" She stopped and looked away.
She was upset, Dylan realised. He experienced a surge of emotions that seemed new He realised he hated seeing her upset and all he wanted was to make her feel better. To see her smile again.
What? Why would I want to see anyone smile? It's a most overrated facial expression.
"Everyone says things like that sometimes," said Dylan awkwardly. "Almost everything is a euphemism nowadays. And I know what you mean. I think. I get to know the signs and symptoms of a patient's illness or injury, relevant information about their medical history and relevant aspects of their lifestyle. From that, I work out a plan of how best to help them. Is that what you mean?"
Angela spoke without looking at him. "Yes. That's what I mean. I'm sorry. I'm so embarrassed."
Dylan could see she was – and he hated it. "Please don't be. I'm sure it happens to everyone. I nearly got myself into trouble once. Robyn said I should be more 'breezy', whatever that means, so I tried to adapt my language into something a bit more colloquial. I asked a female teenager if I could 'jump her up on the bed'. I never used that particular phrase ever again."
Angela looked slightly comforted. "I'm sure she knew what you meant, but it can be difficult sometimes. So much of our work includes 'getting people into bed'."
"I quite often hear doctors asking patients to 'take their top off for me', though that's another phrase I choose to avoid," said Dylan.
"I can imagine Ethan makes it sound really innocent and Cal somehow gets away with making it sound flirtatious, but I's stay away from that one too!" said Angela.
"Zoe can be just as bad as Cal," said Dylan, before remembering Zoe was his girlfriend. "Oh, not that she's… I'm not saying… but she's a very friendly doctor and I find there's only a short step from friendly to overfriendly."
Angela nodded in agreement. "I try to be friendly, but there's always a line you have to try not to cross – and the line isn't in the same place for everybody."
It made Dylan's head ache just thinking about it. "That's one reason why I hold back from the patients. Lily is the same. It's simpler that way." He frowned slightly. Am I gossiping? Am I gossiping to Angela about my colleagues?
What is she doing to me?
"I don't think I've met Lily," said Angela.
"She'd probably introduce herself as Dr Chao."
Angela's face cleared. "Oh, Dr Chao. She's very interesting. When you first meet her, she seems cold and distant, but I think she's actually very passionate about what she does and also very shy. She hides behind professionalism, which is often a very good thing when you're dealing with distressing incidents, but if you don't try to look under the surface, she might give quite a bad impression."
"I think she does, to many people," said Dylan. "I find her easier to work with than most. No distracting chatter. No attempts to be amusing. No wasting time by comforting the patient." He suddenly realised that comforting the patient might be quite important to Angela. Much to his surprise, he started backtracking. "Of course, sometimes the patient does need comfort, but ideally not at the expense of delaying the treatment, which will only increase the fear."
"It's not always easy to persuade a patient to think that logically," said Angela, "but you're right. Waiting in the hope that something will change is such a natural reaction, but it usually only makes things worse."
After Ethanhad stopped crying, he stayed in Cal's arms. For a long time, he'd been unaware of anything but the torment inside him, but now some of the anguish had faded, he became aware of sensations in his body. A slight, vague ache in the region of his head, which gradually increased into a throbbing, violent pain. His back and neck hurt too, perhaps from the awkward, hunched, twisted way he'd slept: curled into as small a ball as possible in the hope it would make him disappear. His face felt wet and he realised he was sniffing. He'd been crying… but he'd known that. He might not have been aware of the physical crying, but his soul had been in such terrible, frightening, agony.
"It's okay, Ethan." Cal was whispering. He stroked Ethan's hair. "I'm here. It's okay."
Ethan started crying again. He didn't know why. It just sort of happened. He pressed his face into Cal's shirt… (or was it his scrubs? Were they at work then?) and let the tears fall because he had no strength to fight them. No strength to do anything.
"That's it. You cry as much as you want," said Cal. He was rubbing Ethan's back now. "I hope you'll talk to me at some point, but we'll wait till you're ready."
Ethan didn't cry for very long this time. His tears stopped, but didn't move his head. He felt sick, but not seriously. There was an ache in his stomach. His throat felt a bit sore (was he ill? He wasn't sure, but there was a familiarity about that thought).
He couldn't move. He didn't want to move. He couldn't remember how movement happened. For a moment, it didn't matter, but then he became aware he needed a tissue and that panicked him because he couldn't remember where they were or how to ask for one and he almost started crying again, but then he realised he was moving. He didn't know why or how, but he was sitting up.
Cal sat up too, his hands firm on Ethan's shoulders, which was probably just as well as Ethan's body felt floppy and weak from exhaustion. "Did you want something?"
Ethan opened his mouth to form the word, but it didn't come. He looked around and realised he had a tissue in his hand. How had he not realised? He lifted his hand and moved it towards his face. His arm felt heavy, but at least it was staying reasonably still.
But for how long?
Ethan rubbed the tissue against his nose. He knew that made things better in some way, but it also did nothing at all. He felt the same as he had before. Hopeless. No future. And that made the present seem pointless too.
Ethan's strength left him quite suddenly and he flopped against Cal. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt good, but he knew it was better when Cal was holding him. Not much better, but any kind of better was good, even if it just meant a bit less completely awful.
Cal hugged him tightly. "I'm here, Nibbles. I'm here. I'll always be here."
It would have comforted Ethan more if 'always' wasn't such a terrifying thought.
Dylan couldn't quite believe he was here.
Eating lunch in a café. Voluntarily. With Angela.
He was even having a nice time.
"It must be nice living on a houseboat," said Angela. "When you go on holiday, you can just take your house with you. No packing or unpacking."
"Assuming the place I'm going to is accessible by water," said Dylan. "And assuming I can arrange for a place to park the boat."
"I see what you mean. I suppose holidays are always complicated," said Angela.
Dylan was inclined to agree. That was one reason why he avoided them. "There are times when it's good to get away from the people I know, but I don't find being in a strange place particularly relaxing."
Angela looked at him curiously. "You like to get away from the people you know?"
Dylan hadn't meant to say that. "Well, I don't mean all the people I know. Just… most of them. I mean some of them."
"No, I like your honesty," said Angela. "You say exactly what you mean. I spend all day with patients who can't say what they mean and colleagues who like to wrap everything up in clichés. I have to translate everything in my head and hope I've understood correctly. I love doing that and it's so completely worth it, but at the same time, I do love a conversation where I don't have to think so hard."
Dylan looked at her in surprise. "Not many people know what I'm talking about."
"Perhaps they haven't realised you say what you mean," said Angela. "They're so busy looking for the subtle things, they miss the obvious."
"Perhaps," said Dylan. He wasn't sure that was the whole problem, but there might be an element of truth in that. He'd certainly met a lot of people who didn't believe he meant what he said; who insisted on twisting it in some inexplicable way so it no longer even resembled the thought which had prompted it. "But I can't always say what I mean."
"It is really difficult sometimes, isn't it?" said Angela. "We don't always think in complete and cohesive sentences. Sometimes it's a random word or an image and it's very difficult to put it into words that not only make sense to us but to other people."
Dylan nodded. "That's true. I have noticed that. But some things I can't say because I'm... afraid."
He felt himself cringe. And there are some things I shouldn't say, but I end up saying them anyway when I'm with someone who makes me feel as though I can tell her anything…
"It's natural," said Angela. "Some of our thoughts and feelings are so very personal and precious. But just so you know, Dylan, you can always say anything to me. As a friend, of course. Don't worry. I don't plan to go all therapeutic on you. I'm not a therapist anyway. And if you don't want to tell me, that's fine too."
Dylan looked at her and wondered. The temptation to tell her everything shocked him. He had a feeling that she would understand in a way that no other person hadn.
But he knew he couldn't do it. He'd been caught by this before, though not for a long time. When he'd been much younger, he'd tried reaching out for help. They'd listened and nodded and said they would do everything they could – and then done nothing.
Nothing other than slowly but surely backing away from him.