CBloom2, there's nothing quite like putting Cal and Ethan through the wringer. It's quite worrying considering I do actually love them! Thank you for your review.

Tato Potato, thank you for your review. Ethan isn't really quite himself at the moment! Not even his protective instincts are working properly.

Bonnie Sveen Fan, thank you for your review. Cal and Ethan really aren't having a good time!

Tanith Panic, I will cure them eventually! I've tried to cure them a couple of times, but I keep getting requests to continue the story - which I'm not complaining about because it's amazing! Thank you for your review.

ETWentHome, thank you for your review - I'm glad you enjoy the chapter! There isn't much more the ED can do for Cal, but I have a couple of ideas...

DoubleNatural, thank you! I was a bit nervous about posting that joke in case someone from NHS Direct got offended, but I can definitely imagine someone like Cal not having a very high opinion of them. I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for your review.

Thank you to Casualty cal and Ethan, SorchaGleek97 and Double Naturalfor the follows and favourites (and to everyone else who has already followed and favourited).

The lift had never chosen a worse time to break.

Ethan and Cal were inching their way slowly and shakily down the stairs. Cal was holding on to the banister, biting his lips against the pain. Ethan had one arm around Cal's waist, either to support Cal's back or to keep himself upright – he honestly wasn't sure. In his other hand, he held the bag with their tissues and medication.

"Can we sit down for a bit?" said Cal in a weak voice.

"No!" said Ethan in alarm, but he softened his voice when he saw the hurt look on Cal's face. "I'm sorry, Cal, but if you sit down, we might not be able to get you up again."

Cal gave him a look that was somewhere between annoyance and concern and they went down a couple more stairs, only for Ethan to ask Cal to stop. He fumbled in his bag for a tissue and managed to get one out just before he sneezed. "Sorry, Cal."

"Ethan, it's okay. It's not your fault," said Cal. He looked worriedly at his brother. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea. You should be in bed, not getting me up and down stairs."

"I can't let you go on your own!" said Ethan, rather surprised by the strength of the protective feelings that rushed through him at the thought. He decided to put it down as another symptom of his illness.

"I can probably manage," said Cal. He lifted his arm carefully and put it around Ethan. "You go back to bed."

Ethan shook his head. "No. I'm coming with you. Come on: not far to go now."

Cal and Ethan faced one another beside the car. It might have been a more convincing stand-off if they'd been standing in the middle of the car park with guns, rather than slumped against the car with tissues, but Cal knew his brother wouldn't back down easily.

"You can't drive, Ethan," he said. "If you feel anything like I did, you're dizzy and faint. And driving and sneezing isn't fun."

"But moving your arms really hurts your back, Caleb," said Ethan. "And you can't drive without moving your arms."

"Yes, I can!" said Cal triumphantly. "I drove with my feet once and I didn't crash or anything. And I was drunk too!"

He had to admit Ethan didn't seem very impressed by that. "Right, well, leaving aside the number of laws you were breaking, I rather doubt you had a bad back at the time. So stop arguing and let me drive."

Cal hesitated. He felt like he was losing this argument, but he was worried about Ethan. "How about we share the driving?"

Ethan sighed loudly. "Okay. I'll drive there and you can drive back. Now get in the car."

"Okay," said Cal reluctantly. "Just be careful, okay?"

"What would you know about being careful?" retorted Ethan.

"Well, I don't have any kids," said Cal. "So probably quite a lot!" He inserted his body into the car and sat still for a moment, perspiration on his brow as he tried to convince himself he wasn't dying.

"We'll be there soon, Cal," said Ethan consolingly. Then he sneezed and the car shot backwards, almost into the car opposite.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive, Nibbles?" said Cal.

"You are driving," muttered Ethan as they left the car park. "Driving me crazy, that is."

"That's what all the girls say," said Cal, though with a smaller smirk than he'd usually have managed.

"I don't doubt it," said Ethan drily. "But here's a newsflash for you, Cal. It's not always a compliment."

It seemed like a long way from Ethan's parking space into the ED. The world was spinning and all Ethan wanted was to go and sit down, but Cal was moving very slowly and painfully. Ethan couldn't possibly leave him - even though Cal had told him more than once to: "Go on ahead, get yourself in the warm and sit down before you fall down, for God's sake, Nibbles!"

"Stop: need a tissue," mumbled Ethan.

Cal seemed quite happy to stop. He waited till Ethan was ready, then he put his arm around Ethan's waist (Ethan didn't miss the way this made him wince with pain) and they carried on walking. A few stops later, they stopped again while Ethan coughed. Then they started up again, moving slower and slower as a mist swirled around Ethan's eyes and with every step, he wondered if this was the moment where his legs would cease to be able to bear his weight.

The entrance to the ED was getting closer. Ethan told himself he could make it that far. Just a few more steps. Just a few more seconds of…

"Cal!" gasped Ethan urgently.

Cal instinctively caught Ethan in his arms. Normally, he could have picked Ethan up and carried him into the ED without any difficulty.

Today, he screamed out in agony and collapsed to the ground.

Cal's body slammed painfully onto the concrete, but he managed to break Ethan's fall and ended up with his little brother's head pillowed against his chest. Cal closed his eyes, fighting pain and nausea. He worked out that if he was sick, he could turn his head to the side and avoid messing up Ethan's hair. He also worked out that the movement sent a bolt of fire through his back. But better that than being sick on your little brother.

Cal wasn't sure what they were going to do now. He didn't think he could move – and even if he could, he doubted he'd be able to lift Ethan. But if they stayed here, they were in danger of being run over by an ambulance.

Or a motorbike, he thought, as one such vehicle roared into the carpark, apparently heading straight for them.

It stopped what felt like inches from Cal's head. The ground beneath him seemed to vibrate and the smell of the exhaust did nothing for his nausea.

The engine was switched off. "Dr Knight, is there a reason for this unseemly behaviour?" asked Connie.

"Ethan fainted and I couldn't support his weight because of my back," said Cal miserably. It would be Connie who discovered him like this. Why couldn't it have been Rita? She'd be kind and she wouldn't make sarcastic digs either.

"I see," said Connie, her gaze running swiftly over Ethan, though her voice didn't change. "And can I ask what you're doing back at work?"

"We're not," said Cal confusingly. "Well, we are. Obviously. But we're not."

Connie sighed. "You're patients, I assume."

Cal nodded.

"Well, I'm used to you not being able to stand on your own two feet, Dr Knight, but I'd hardly expect it of Dr Hardy."

"Dr Hardy is ill!" said Cal reproachfully.

"Then I suppose I'd better fetch a couple of wheelchairs," said Connie resignedly. "Unless, of course, 'push chairs' would be a more appropriate term."

Ethan began to stir. His breathing quickened. "Wha… where…"

"Dr Hardy, it's Mrs Beauchamp," said Connie.

"Who?" said Ethan, and sniffed loudly.

Connie's voice deepened with sarcasm. "Mrs Beauchamp. Your boss. The no-doubt rather uncomfortable pillow you've got your head on is your brother You fainted and he wasn't strong enough to hold you."

"My back wasn't strong enough!" Cal corrected her.

"Don't feel well," whimpered Ethan, sniffing. "Need a tissue."

Cal stroked his hair, remembering a six-year-old Ethan saying the same thing. Actually, he could remember him saying it at various different ages. "Try your pocket." Ethan had dropped the bag and Cal couldn't reach it with Ethan leaning on him.

Ethan was able to find a tissue and use it, but he didn't show very much interest in getting his head off Cal's chest. Cal had to admit he had decidedly mixed feelings about it himself. It was making it even more difficult for him to breathe and he was sure it was making the pain worse, but once Ethan had got up, Cal would have to as well.

That was something he was looking forward to about as much as his next hangover.

Ethan didn't think sitting up had ever been so difficult. He kept catching himself starting to lean his head towards Cal's shoulder, which wasn't the kind of thing he'd want to do in public even if Cal hadn't been in pain. Luckily, Cal didn't seem to notice, but Ethan knew it was because he was in too much pain to care what Ethan was doing.

Connie had got the wheelchairs very quickly, but she'd decided they didn't need to be seen straight away and had left them in the waiting room.

Ethan let his head drop onto his chest and sniffed loudly. Not for the first time.

"Ethan, if you keep doing that, I'll have to change your name from Nibbles to Snuffles."

Ethan sniffed even more loudly to show he was too ill to care, but then he caught a disapproving look from the patient next to him and quickly got out his tissues.

"Why don't you go home?" said Cal sympathetically. "I can get a taxi."

"I'm fine. Never been better," said Ethan, and wondered if that was the biggest lie he'd ever told. He looked at Cal worriedly. His brother's forehead was damp and his breathing shallow. "Would you like me to go and tell Noel to bump you up the queue a bit?"

Cal smiled weakly. "Is it just me or does that sound rude?"

"It's just you," said Ethan firmly.

"Thought it might be," said Cal.

Two hours later, they were still sitting there.

"This place is rubbish," moaned Cal.

Ethan looked at him sympathetically. "I did hear their best doctor is off sick."

Cal tried to smile through the pain. "Yeah. I heard that too. Good-looking guy, he is. A real babe magnet."

"That's very kind of you to say so, Caleb," said Ethan. "Thank you."

Cal glared at him. "That's not funny."

"You would have found it funny if you'd said it," said Ethan.

"Probably," admitted Cal. He tried to lift his arms so he could run hands through his hair, but his back denied him even this simple pleasure. "Oh God, Ethan. It really hurts!"

"I'll go and speak to Noel," said Ethan. He stood up, only for his legs to give way.

"Ethan!" Cal tried to break his fall, but his back went into spasm and he couldn't do anything but scream. Luckily, Ethan landed safely in his chair.

"Cal, are you-" Ethan had to stop to cough.

"Ethan, are you-" Cal desperately tried to hold back a sneeze. His back would not appreciate that. It really wouldn't. And nothing knew how to make Cal suffer quite as well as his back.

"I'm fine," they both said as soon as they could talk again.

Immediately, they both responded: "Liar!"