Mike bursts into the emergency room, Kate limp as a ragdoll in his arms. "Help!" He's not aware of the panicked looks, barely conscious of the people half-rising to help him, or the fact that he's left his car unlocked, passenger door thrown ajar. All his thoughts are focused on the woman in his arms. "Someone! Help! Please!" He can't stop his voice from shaking, can't hold in the fear in his voice. "Please!"

He doesn't really want to let her go, but within a few moments there's faceless, nameless medical staff surrounding them, scooping her from his grip. And he knows they're better equipped to help her than he is. "What happened to her?" One woman demands.

"She... she just collapsed." He swallows hard, forcing himself to focus as hands peel Kate's eyelids back, and check for a pulse. "Uh..." He can't take his eyes off of her. "She was injured at work. A... a firefighter. She's... she's a firefighter. She got hit with some debris in a collapsing building. And her wrist-" Her damaged wrist seems to be the least of their problems now.

"What's her name?" She's pale. Too pale. He can't even tell if she's breathing.

"Kate. Kate... ah, I don't know if it's short for anything. Kate McGregor?" He makes to follow them as they make to move her, but one of them puts a hand up to stop him.

"Sir, you need to stay here. Let us do what we can for her." And with that, she's dragged away from him, while he stands in the doorway, watching the stretcher trolley wheeled away from him.

He thinks time might just cease to exist. He has only the vaguest memory of heading out and moving his car from its spot in front of the emergency doors, has no idea where he's put his parking ticket and can barely recall what he'd said to the woman who'd called to check Kate had gone to the doctors. All he knows is, as soon as he'd mentioned emergency, she'd hung up and gotten into contact with Cal, who in turn had called Mike.

And all the while, he's torn between worrying about Kate, and thinking about yesteryear. Because hospitals never seemed to hold good news. At least not for him, or the people he loved.

Bitterly, he pulls himself to his feet again, with half a mind to go and beg the nurse again for an update on Kate. Something, anything. Because, no, he knows he's not her family, but he cares about her, doesn't he? He... he might just love her.

Love?

But no. No. Because she's stubborn and annoying and, anyway, she doesn't love him, couldn't love him. And it's a bloody cliche to decide that you love someone when their life is hanging in the balance and-

No.

No, her life isn't on the line. It can't be. He won't let it be. Not when the last thing he'd said to her was in anger.

There's a clattering of feet, and he jerks his head up, grateful for the distraction, just in time to see three people dashing towards him.

"Dad!"

"Mike!"

"Mike!"

He barely has time to take in the harrowed look in Cal's eyes as she tugs Bridie by the hand before there's a flash of brown and Rose runs ahead and throws herself into Mike's arms. For a moment, he just buries his face into her hair, before looking up into the wide eyes of Cal. For a moment, he's taken by the similarities between her, Kate and Bridie, something that he's never noted before, what with Bridie's wild curls and Cal's ever-changing hairstyles.

"Mike!" Cal demands, her voice severe, and he wonders how many times she'd called his name before he'd registered. "What happened? Where's Kate?"

"She..." He swallows hard, trying to clear his throat. "Th-they... they took her."

Cal takes a step forwards, and even though her eyes look wide and terrified, there's something so composed in the way that she demands information. "Took her where?"

"I... I don't know." He admits, eyes turning to the doors that had swallowed her. "I... we're not..." They're not family. They're not related. They're not anything. He looks into Cal's eyes, so like Kate's, and opens his mouth with no idea what he's about to say. "Cal, I... I tried." He hates the neediness in his voice, hates the way he's so desperate for her to know that he isn't just here because he feels bad about the things he said, or out of some twisted sense of duty. But she turns her head away from him, apparently dismissing him as useless.

Heels clicking on the linoleum floor, she makes her way up to the reception counter and taps her nails impatiently on the desk. "My sister, Kate McGregor, was brought in here. I'm after an update."

Mike doesn't hear the words that the nurse is saying, or Cal's response. Instead, he finds his gaze drifting towards Bridie, who's staring at him with a hopeless look on her face as though begging him to fix this. Their eyes lock, and he can't stand the tears welling in those young eyes. "Bridie-" He reaches forwards, not exactly sure what he's supposed to say or do. But before he can act, Rose has wrapped her friend in a warm hug.

"Hey, Bee. She... she'll be okay." Rose looks up in time for Mike to catch the uncertainty on her face, begging her father to agree.

If her foot wasn't twitching, he might think that Cal was asleep. Her face is hidden in her hands as her elbows rest on her knees, her spine bent almost in a 'C', so that she's barely sitting on the hard plastic chairs. He can't look at the clock, can't bear to see how much time has passed, because surely someone should have said something by now. It's the not knowing that's the hardest. The silence. He remembers that all too well from years ago.

It's all too familiar, memories from yesteryear intermingling with the present, and for a moment, he's dwelling on the health of two women, not one. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turns to Cal, keeping his voice low. "I... I can call my mother. She can take the girls. If... if you want." He throws half a glance towards the spot on the chairs where the two girls are curled up, heads resting on balled-up jackets. How he envies their ability to sleep through this.

Cal's body gives away no indication that she's heard his words, but a few moments later her voice comes through her fingers, slightly muffled. "Have you told her yet?"

"Told who what?" Mike frowns. Truth is, his head is foggy and confused, with no idea what he's supposed to be doing. He can't shake the feeling that he's intruding on something private, like he shouldn't really be here and that any moment, Cal will demand he leave.

"Kate." Cal answers simply, sitting up straighter so that, for the first time in hours, he can see her face. Her eyes are keen and inquisitive; only the slight hitch in her voice betraying her fear. "Have you told her how you feel about her yet?"

He doesn't bother to deny her observation. Instead he drags a hand through his stubble. "She... she doesn't feel the same way."

Cal gives a wry smile. "I know my sister." She inclines her head. "And she does. Feel the same, I mean."

Mike closes his eyes, hating himself for clutching at Cal's words like a talisman, for so badly wanting to believe in them. His voice is shaky as he forces himself to confess. "I... I was yelling at her."

"Yeah, I do that a lot too."

"No." Mike shakes his head, needing her to understand. "When it happened. I... I was yelling at her."

"And you think that this is all your fault?" Cal presses. "So your words have superhuman strength, and you caused her to pass out?" Mike says nothing, glaring at the woman, and after a moment Cal drags a hand through her hair. "Look, you don't need to stay. I've got this. Get Rose home. This isn't..."

"I... I don't want to leave her." Mike turns his head back towards the doors they'd dragged Kate through, and crumples. "God, I don't want her to die. I just..." He hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head. "I hate hospitals. And this one especially." He admits. "When Sarah got sick..." He trails off, and Cal says nothing, instead reaching out her hand to squeeze it reassuringly. "When Sarah got sick, it took so long... too long. There were... there were times when we were just... just praying for it all to be over, because she was in so much pain. And then other times when everything just seemed so unfair. Like time was running away from us, slipping away. And now, I'm here again, and I know it's not about me but-"

"Hey, you're allowed to have feelings, Mike." Cal cuts him off. "No one is going to begrudge you that."

"I need her to be okay." He whispers. He blinks, trying to clear the fog from his gaze, and realises that he doesn't quite know what he'll do if Kate dies. With Sarah, there'd been time. So much time that it had almost been cruel in a way, the slowest goodbye in history. Completely incomparable to this. "Can I ask you something?" Mike breaks the silence once more, turning to Cal. "Something that might... might be a totally insensitive question or... or be none of my business and... and if that's true, then just say, but... why didn't she report him?"

Cal looks up at him, but there's no anger or irritation in her eyes. Instead, she gives a sad smile. "I guess... in order to understand that, you need to know about Kate and I. I mean, I know you know the basics about our mother?"

"Kate said she was an alcoholic."

"Well, that's putting it mildly." Cal gives a wry smile. "She was... horrible. She was never equipped to be a mother, but she kept us. But all she cared about was herself. I mean, I... I think she loved us, in a way. But she wasn't the type to take responsibility for anything or anyone. Kate was basically my mother, from the very start. She looked out for me and cared for me. And I probably resented her a little for that. After all, I had Mum telling me I could have ice cream for dinner and Kate saying 'no, you need to eat the stir-fry I made for you' or... or whatever. But it was always her that looked out for me. Her that... that gave me bandaids and changed my nappies and... and worked so we had food and clean clothes and all of that sort of stuff. But most of all, she protected me. I mean, some guys Mum dated, it was... I mean, they were just in it because of her, because... because she was easy, or fun. And they never lasted long. But then there are other men out there. Men that date women like her to... to get to the kids."

Mike feels sick, and for a moment he has to fight to urge to get up and run, to attack every single person who had hurt them. Dizzying, sickening images rush into his mind, and he actually screws up his face, hoping to stop them.

"For the most part, I... I didn't know. Kate made sure none of them even looked sideways at me. She... she kept me safe. I didn't even know anything about it until... until I was... maybe seven? Kate was sixteen and I walked in and found..." Now it's Cal's turn to screw up her face. "I remember the look of terror in her eyes and... and afterwards, when he realised I'd seen, he... he just spat on Kate, still lying on the kitchen floor, and told her to sort it out. Kate... Kate took me and let me cry all over her and... and even now I feel so guilty. Because it should have been me helping her but instead it was the other way around. It was always the other way around but I just didn't know what was happening. But she just kept telling me to forget it, but I guess... he figured that now I knew, he didn't have to hide it as much. And he... he kept hurting her. I... I was young and confused and I... I went to school and told my teacher. Because I didn't really quite know what was happening, but I knew it was bad and I just wanted it to stop."

"You... you reported them?" Mike frowns, because it's not the end to the story he's expecting.

Cal nods sadly, scraping her hair off her face. "I remember when Kate came to pick me up from the school, like she always did, two policemen met us and took us both to the station. I was scared and Kate kept squeezing my hand. And then we got separated and they wanted to talk to us alone. They kept asking me what I'd seen, and whether anyone had hurt me, and... it seemed to go on for hours." Cal picks at her fingernails, scraping along them, so that fragments of chipped black nail polish falls to the ground. "I found out later Kate broke down. He was... was the third guy to take advantage of having a young girl in the house. The first time she... she was ten."

Ten. A child. Ten.

"When it was all over I remember just... just running into Kate's arms and crying. They'd said we'd go somewhere safe and I was just so grateful until... until they pulled us apart. We got... separated and then all of a sudden we were in foster care. And without Kate..." Cal gives a sad shake of the head. "We were apart for over a week. I was so scared I was wetting the bed each night and sick all day. And of course, that didn't help me settle in when you're the baby bed wetter. I'd cry to Kate on the phone every second night when I was allowed to call, and beg her to come and get me. I'd planned to run away and find her. Until... one day we got sent home. Just like that."

"You..." Mike frowns, not quite understanding. "To your Mum?"

Cal gives a small nod. "To them both. See, Kate went to the cops and told them that she'd made it all up."

"But..." Mike's jaw drops. "But why?"

Cal ducks her eyes, and there's such a look of shame on her face. "Because she knew I needed her. Because... because being together in a shithole was better than being apart. And because she's always looked out for me."

"But... I still don't get it. I mean, Kate was an adult with Patrick. She could have-"

"Patrick had Kate's file. The file that detailed all about how she went on the record to say she lied to the police about being sexually abused." Something seems to click in Mike's mind and Cal nods sadly. "He told her no one would believe the girl that's already cried wolf. And that if she told she'd never see me again. He got in her head. So it was easier for her to keep quiet and just... just get me instead."

"He... she could still have told. She-"

"Mike, you... you're a man, okay? And I know you care about her but... you're still a man. You don't get how it is to be a woman. To be scared of men everywhere, to deal with sexist comments and catcalls and... and not even feeling safe just walking the streets after dark. And add onto that a complete lack of anyone else caring for you and... me I get why she did it. I mean, I want nothing more than them all to pay for what they did but... she trusted Patrick. I think that's what hurt her the most. That she trusted him enough to tell him all of this and then he abused that trust in the worst way." She shakes her head at Mike. "I get that you're standing here not able to understand why she didn't. And I know you might be feeling as though she's taking the easy way out. But... it's not easy. If she reported him, it wouldn't just be what he did against her. It would be Kate's entire life. Every... every time she ditched school to look after me, every mistake Kate ever made, every relationship she's ever had. And especially that withdrawn report."

Mike turns to look at his clenched fists. "I want to hurt everyone that hurt her." He murmurs.

Cal meets his gaze and nods. "Yeah." She agrees. "Me too."

They both look up instinctively as a doctor approaches; they've been doing it all night, only to be faced over and over with them moving past. However, the doctor clears her throat and looks around. "I'm after Callista McGregor?"

"That's me!" Cal pushes herself to her feet so fast she stumbles. Mike reaches out instinctively to steady her, but she manages without his intervention, straightening up. "How's Kate?"

"We've managed to stabilise her for the time being. After her injury, she's been suffering from brain swelling, which we've been trying to reduce by a combination of fluids and medications, as well as putting her on a respirator and sedating her to try and let her body heal. For now, it's a bit of a waiting game. I'm afraid we won't know the extent of the damage done until her swelling goes down."

He finds himself leaning against a concrete garden bed outside the hospital, knuckles white as he grips the concrete beside him. All around him is a bustling hive of activity; people on their way to work or school, cars streaming past, or else strolling idly past. The area is filled with the scent of cigarette smoke too, as everyone blatantly ignores the signs plastered all around the entrance to the hospital, and he feels as though the toxic fumes are choking him from the inside. He wants to run and scream at all these people. Don't they realise how fleeting life is, how quickly it can be taken away?

He lets out a shaky breath and pushes off of the surface, not knowing where he's going but not content to sit by anymore. Fuck cancer. Fuck traumatic brain injuries. Fuck hospitals and grief and every single bad thing that is happening right now.

"Mike?" He looks up at the sound of his own name and, for a moment, is about to shout out to Kate. Then, his brain catches up with his eyes and he sees that the flash of blonde doesn't belong to Kate after all, and he clenches his fists tighter in his pockets.

"Maxine?" He pulls himself up straighter, aware of just how bad he must look. "What are you doing here?" After all, he's not entirely sure why Maxine would be wandering outside the hospital first thing in the morning.

"Rose called me. Said she was worried about you. I just got back from my shift and... here I am. Well, I mean I've run the maze of the entire hospital first. Found Rosie and she sent me this way." She gives a light shrug before taking a spot on a bench and patting the seat next to her. "You look like crap."

"Cheers, Max." He peers blearily at his phone and finds it is dead.

"It's just after 0830 hours." Maxine murmurs, and for a moment Mike converts the time in his head. As if knowing what he's thinking, Maxine rolls her eyes. "8am, for you." She digs in her bag and fishes out a small device and a cord. "And here's a portable charger. Charge your phone." She gives a light shiver as she peers up at the building. "So... need to talk? I mean, I get a call from Rose completely out of the blue, telling me you apparently are into a woman - thanks for telling your best mate, by the way. And she's got a traumatic brain injury in the same hospital Sarah died in. So... fair bit to unpack in all of that?"

"Harsh." Mike muses, but he has come to appreciate Maxine's brutally honest nature. After all, she knows just as well as he does about how it feels to lose a partner. They'd met at this very hospital pacing oncology, and Maxine had lost her husband Jeff barely a week before Sarah had died.

She gives a shrug and rummages in her bag once more before extracting a paper bag, dropping it in his lap. "Hey, I never claimed to be the most sensitive of friends. I am however, the one that gets what you're going through. There's a piece of banana bread in there. Eat. Have a bit of a break and then we'll go back in."

He catches her staring up at the building once more. "Are you... right to be here?"

"Well, I mean I guess this place doesn't really have happy memories for either of us, but... I'm more worried about you right now." She picks at a rip in her jeans.

For the longest time, they just sit there, watching the sea of people stream by. And then, slowly, Mike pulls himself back to his feet. "I think I love her, Max."

Maxine nods soberly, scraping her hair from her face. "So, why are you hiding out here instead of waiting by her bedside for a romantic confession the moment she wakes?" She challenges. Mike opens and closes his mouth for a moment, then looks away bitterly.

"What would your squad think if they knew how much of a fan of rom-coms you really are?"

"Hey, is this pick-on-Max day? I just... happen to be a kick-arse cop by day, and a rom-com-loving-Mum by night. But don't change the subject!"

"I... she's... she's a firie. I... I mean, even just this-"

"I get it, Mike."

"No, you don't!" Mike shakes his head.

"You're scared to get attached, because you've got it in your head that her career means she's in danger all the time, and you're not sure how you or Rose could cope with that." Mike looks up, surprised she's managed to hit the nail on the head so succinctly. "Look, I... I can't promise you she's going to be okay, Mike. But... Jeff and I were both cops. And I guess it was always in the back of our minds that it could be... I don't know... a bullet or a bomb or something. And then Jeff got diagnosed. And it doesn't seem right. I mean, Sarah was a fucking librarian! Death... it doesn't discriminate, okay? I guess... you've got to decide whether you love her more than you fear loving her."

Mike shakes his head sadly.

"Hey," Maxine nudges him. "Life is short, Mike." She stands up and pulls him to his feet. "And Sarah would want you to be happy." They both stare up at the building. "So, are you ready to go back in?"

A/N:So, for this story, I'm going with the original Season 4 bio of Maxine, where she had lost her husband Jeff and was a widow, rather than the travesty of a backstory they gave her in season 5. It just turned her into the bad guy for no reason, and I will protect Maxine to the end. I know this chapter kind of ends really clunky but I'm not too sure about it.

Also, speaking of character bios, LittleRose, you asked a while ago why everyone wrote Kate as English and her mum as abusive and I kept forgetting to reply. Basically, in the character bios they had something about Kate growing up in England until she was nine when her mother followed an opal miner out to Australia, and she 'quickly found herself on the wrong side of the tracks' or something like that. The bios have been taken down and I can't remember the exact writing, but it was something like that. It was never really mentioned in the actual show (would have been nice to dump out some of those later episodes for something more meaningful but hey, I'm a sucker for regular drama rather than... well, best not to get picky or it'll be a rant on how half of season five was garbage)