I have no illusions to think that I know what will come,
I laugh at the concept of life as a simple result of the sum,
I just want to hold you, and share with you all of this life,
With the stars in the darkness, and love in the light, and its dizzying height.
He guides her in through the staff entrance to the ED carefully, protectively, arms wrapped around her waist, supports her, dares anyone passing by to comment.
She hasn't protested, hasn't even spoken, since that brief, pained confession. She allowed him to calm her down, to help her change, watched numb as he gathered up her clothes into a discarded carrier bag, allowed herself to be led outside and into the passenger seat of his car as though no part of her cares where he's taking her, what might happen to her next.
It's as though she's given up, zoned out, as though she hasn't the emotional energy left to bother with any of that, as though already she feels as though irreparable damage has been done to her, that wherever Ethan plans to take her, whatever he plans to do with her, can't possibly be any worse, so what's the point of it all, why put up a fight?
That's what it's about. Ethan's sure of it.
It's frightening. Perhaps the most frightening part of this whole hell he's unknowingly walked into.
It's as though no part of her believes this is ever going to feel any better.
She's limping, Ethan realises. Perhaps it's only come on in the last couple of hours, aches and pains beginning to set in, or perhaps she's been like this all day and he's just failed to notice, too self-absorbed, convinced that her arriving into work this morning distracted, visibly upset, was all because of him… stupid… stupid…
The medical training in him screams to stop, to commandeer a wheelchair from one of the porters and ensure she doesn't have to stagger even one more step further, but he knows Alicia well enough to be certain that even in this state, there is just no way she's going to allow herself to be guided down into a wheelchair twice in the space of a few hours.
She tenses, as they approach reception. It's as though she's all of a sudden regained the faintest traces of her sense of self-worth, as though the realisation that she's allowed herself to be led into the ED, off duty, visibly shaken, undeniably so, now, is enough to startle her back into caring, just a little.
"I can't…" she whispers, helplessly. "I can't…"
"Okay. Okay, we don't have to do this the official way," Ethan decides, tightens his grip around her, thinks frantically.
He should have thought of this. He should have realised that even in her current state, the chances of her agreeing to register with Noel at reception, sit and wait in the waiting area, exposed, on show, were positively minute, should have planned ahead, come up with a strategy…
He thought about taking her to St James's instead. He really did. In some ways, it might have made things a little easier for her. But equally, he couldn't help but feel as though at least Holby is familiar, at least it's not unchartered territory, as though perhaps if someone she trusts takes it from here medically it might be a little less distressing.
The flip side of that, of course, is that bringing her into Holby means exposing her secret to whoever arrives to treat her, familiar, known…
Shit, he hasn't thought this through.
Or maybe he has, maybe that's better.
Ethan is well and truly out of his depth, drowning.
It's worse for Alicia. However much of a struggle this is for him, it's worse for Alicia; Alicia who clings to him like a child, pupils wide with shock, unsteady on her feet, cold, shaky, glances around her, rabbit in the headlights, one brief feel of her wrist confirming her heart is racing.
"It's okay. You're okay. I'm sorry, I should have thought… I'm so sorry…"
He guides her off down the corridor before reception can catch sight of them, ushers her past the staffroom, the admin station, knocks hurriedly, urgently, on Mrs Beauchamp's office door, pushes it open before she has chance to respond.
He hasn't thought this through, not exactly, but he figures that Mrs Beauchamp is going to need to know anyway, that she of all people can be trusted to be discreet.
If nothing else, he needs to ensure Mrs Beauchamp knows, knows now, so that she can ensure by the time Alicia's next shift comes around, Eddie McAllister is well and truly banished from the ED.
Is she even going to be in for her next shift?
Mrs Beauchamp looks up, irate. "Dr Hardy, I don't believe I gave you permission to…"
"Mrs Beauchamp," Ethan interrupts, then falters, conflicted, nervous and explosively furious and desperately worried all at once, and then Alicia trembles in his arms, cowers, ashamed, and suddenly there's a strength within him that he didn't know he had.
He has to do this.
Alicia needs him to do this, Alicia needs him to take control, fix this as best he can, for her, Alicia needs him to restore her faith in the male half of humanity, if nothing else.
"She needs a side room," he splutters, carefully shifts Alicia to stand in front of him, arms around her waist, ever conscious of that awful scattering of bruises inflicted by himand cuts and scrapes she seems to have inflicted on herself in some sort of desperate coping mechanism, Alicia… "She needs a side room, she needs a consultant, a female consultant, she needs discretion, someone needs to call the police…"
Alicia shakes her head frantically, desperate, as though embarrassed at all the fuss in front of her boss; it's different for her, Ethan realises all-too late, Alicia hasn't seen Mrs Beauchamp's softer side, not properly, doesn't know how she can pull through in a crisis.
He's dragged her into the ED, risked running into the very man who did this to her and now he's brought her in front of her boss in this state, dishevelled, vulnerable, most likely still in Mrs Beauchamp's bad books after she ran off to RTC earlier- and it all makes sense now, Ethan realises, it all makes sense, she and Eddie were working the same shift today, she wasn't being deliberately defiant, provocative, she was just completely desperate to get as far away from Eddie McAllister as possible, shit…
Mrs Beauchamp, to her credit, catches on remarkably quickly, springs to her feet, reaches out to place her hand on Alicia's shoulder.
"Alicia? What ha-"
Alicia flinches, involuntary, snatches herself away so violently that at first Ethan fears she's going to throw herself off balance, collapse like she did in resus before he can catch her, and then she seems to regain control a little, shaky as she is.
"Sorry," she whispers, cheeks flush, and only then does Ethan realise how horribly pale she is. "Sorry, I…"
Wide blue eyes, dilated pupils, plead with his helplessly.
It's clear she doesn't have it in her to say it all aloud again, even those three simple words.
"Dr McAllister…" Ethan's voice is shaking, anger surging through him he can hardly control, not when Alicia is like this, not when this is the aftermath, how could he, how could he dare…
"Dr McAllister needs to be banned from this department," he snarls angrily. "He needs to be struck off, he needs to be prevented from ever coming near Alicia again…"
"He came home with me last night," Alicia whispers faintly, closes her eyes, sways alarmingly. "He came home with me, I was drunk, I didn't… I didn't know he was in my bed, I didn't know, and then he… I told him, I didn't want… he just… he wouldn't stop…"
She's sobbing again now, fast approaching hysterical, breath coming in frantic, panicked gasps.
She needs him to make this better. She needs him to make this better and he doesn't have a clue, doesn't know how anything can possibly take this away, how she's still standing at all…
Is she ever going to be the same after this? Is it even possible?
He knows people do survive this, of course he does.
But looking at Alicia now, shaking, jumpy, traumatised, broken, Ethan can't quite see how she could ever be alright again.
"Alright," Mrs Beauchamp says gently, hand on Ethan's back, takes control. "Alright. Alicia? Alicia, listen."
Alicia recoils, blinks, eyes fixed firmly on the carpet.
"We're going to get you into a side room, sweetheart, okay? Room three's free, take her down to room three," she tells Ethan. "Give me a minute or so. I'll get everyone into resus two, I'll distract them, you can get her down into room three. I'll call the police, I'll come and join you in a few minutes, alright? Alicia? No one else needs to know, alright, I'll leave it off the board, I'll examine you…"
She's shaking her head furiously now, suddenly shifted from passive, zoned-out, to anxious, desperate. "I don't… I don't want…"
"Alicia? Alicia, look at me. Are you in pain?"
Shakily, eyes closed, she nods, surrenders again and he's holding her upright, taking the majority of her weight for her because there's no doubt in his mind she'll be in pieces on the floor in seconds, the moment he should let go.
"Then you need medical attention, don't you? Alicia? You don't have to make a statement to the police if you don't want to, we can talk about it later. I'm going to keep this between the three of us, alright? Only the three of us need to know. We'll make sure you're alright, and then we'll take it from there, okay? I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with. It's over now, sweetheart," she says gently, though her gaze flickers between the two of them, Alicia, shaking, pale, face blotchy, Ethan, overcome with emotion and fighting so hard to hide it. "It's all over now."
He staggers with her along the corridor to room three while Mrs Beauchamp has the rest of the ED her captive audience in resus, guides her down onto the hospital bed and she practically collapses; it's relief, Ethan realises absentmindedly, it's as though it's with relief, relief that the end is in sight, as though she can finally see the faintest glimmer of light at the end of the long, dark tunnel in which she's been trapped these last few hours, no need to hold herself together any longer.
She doesn't deserve this.
He should never have discarded her so carelessly for Leigh-Anne last night, she doesn't deserve this…
He hides out in Mrs Beauchamp's office while she's in room three with Alicia, and perhaps he shouldn't, perhaps he should have asked her permission, at least, but he can't face the staff room, the corridor outside, can't face the inevitable awkward questions as to why he's here, off-duty, eyes blood-shot and raging and tenderly caring all at once because how can he, because whatever happens next, wherever they all go from here, it has to be Alicia's decision and he can't take it out of her hands, can't be another male to storm into her life and strip away all her control.
This changes everything.
This changes everything, and it isn't about him, of course, it's about Alicia, but guilt and affection and fear and something inexplicable race through him in those moments he waits in Mrs Beauchamp's office, no concept of time, not properly.
He'll be whatever she needs, now. Now and forever. If she needs him to back off then that's what he'll do, but if she needs him to stay…
There's a gentle knock on the door, pulls him back to reality.
"Ethan?" Mrs Beauchamp says softly. "Ethan, she's asking for you."
He races along the corridor back to room three, stops, just for a moment, outside the door, heart pounding, almost afraid as to what he might find on the other side, Pandora's box wrenched open.
Alicia lies still, pale, exhausted, in the hospital bed, half upright, blinks, reaches out for his hand.
He's at her side in an instant, squeezes, so many things he wants to tell her in that moment and no idea how to put it all into words, but she knows.
He can see it in her eyes.
"Stay," she whispers.
It's all he needs.
Slip the jesses, my love,
This hunter you own from the hood to the glove,
When the circling and striking are done, and I land,
Let me come back to your hand.