He knew this feeling, it was becoming strangely familiar to him. Or it was completely new. He couldn't tell the difference between the two things. It felt like being in water - with sounds being muffled and his own movements feeling slow (little though they were). He wasn't drowning (he was almost completely sure), yet he didn't feel completely able to breathe properly. Maybe he was drowning slowly, but somehow he was special and could survive in limbo. He didn't know where he was. It was a completely unfamiliar place to him. He didn't know who the people were either, the water-like state around him wasn't helping his vision and he could only see blurry shapes. And even then, only when he didn't feel too tired to move and open his eyes.

He noticed a sound to his right… or was it his left? He couldn't tell the difference and it made his head ache if he tried. Water. That was all he could think. Water, water, water. Then he couldn't breathe. He felt something moving, then realised in an oddly disconnected way that whatever was moving was part of him. He could feel a sensation close to him, and that was telling him that he was moving. He felt (was that his hand?) connect with something. Without thinking his hand clenched and moved. Then there was another sensation – though this one wasn't a good one. It was a horrible sensation, and he realised that he was feeling pain. It was in his arm (left or right, he didn't know). He felt something else... no, someone else. A hand. It was weird, it didn't feel like what his own hand felt like. It was, what was that word? Rubbery. It was... rubbery. So it wasn't hand? If so, why did the shape feel like a hand and the texture feel like rubber?

His head started to throb, distracting him from the pain in his arm and the confusing thing on his arm.

Then he heard the noise again, it was at the same side where the pain in his arm was. But he still couldn't tell whether it was his left or his right.

He tried to swallow, but something felt constricted and he felt choked. He couldn't breathe again and he felt his own arms moving again. But they were constricted as well and he felt the rubber hand - actually were there two? – make contact with his skin. They were pushing him. Then there was a louder noise... it hurt his head more.

There were lots of noises. More and more.

Then silence. Was it silence? Or was he too deep underwater? - if he was underwater...

He still felt his own arms struggling under... something. But then he felt a different sort of pressure. It was soft. It was making him feel relaxed and his arms stopped moving. Then there was something else soft. It was a soft sound. A nice sound. It calmed him further.

Then he felt more underwater then he had done in a while. But he could breathe easier. He felt something else – maybe it was the lack of something else. It was... it was the lack of pressure on his arms, and without realising it, he drifted off to sleep.

Dr McKay walked slowly into Ethan's ICU room, smiling sadly as he gazed upon the young man. He still had a deathly pale pallor and his breathing wasn't quite even – but at least he was breathing by himself. It had been a spectacular moment when Ethan started to wean off the ventilator, but even more so when he could fully breathe by himself.

He had since been transferred to nasal oxygen and was coping as well as one could be.

They had been trying to get his to respond to basic commands, but had no luck. It was to be expected, of course, but it was still disappointing. Ethan had woken briefly a few times, only once or twice opening his eyes. Even when he did, it wasn't when responding to commands, and his gaze was unfocused. But it was the first stepping stone in what could possibly be a good recovery.

He walked in further, picking up Ethan's notes and quickly looking through them. Doing a quick check of Ethan's vitals himself, Dr McKay updated the notes and smiled slightly to himself. Ethan's condition was as well as Dr McKay expected when he entered the room.

It was then he realised that Ethan's breathing became slightly quicker and his pulse rose. Feeling hopeful that Ethan was waking again, he walked to Ethan's right side – looking intently at both the monitor and Ethan.

"Ethan?" he asked softly. Ethan showed no signs he heard him but his breathing speed increased further. Dr McKay waited patiently for a moment, as if waiting for Ethan's brain to catch up with his ears. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately his head snapped towards it. Ethan's left arm was moving weakly and without much co-ordination. Dr McKay smiled, pleased Ethan was showing movement. He watched what Ethan was doing, reacting upon instinct when Ethan's hand grabbed one of the IV lines and yanked at it – pulling it out.

He frantically slipped some gloves on his hands and pushed down the spot in which the IV line was ripped out. Ethan's movement slowed down and his hand dropped weakly to the bed. It, luckily, gave Dr McKay a safe environment to work with while re-inserting the line into the crook of Ethan's elbow.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" Dr McKay tried again, feeling his heart sink slightly as Ethan made no sign to let him know he heard him. He knew it was baby steps right now, Dr McKay knew it was baby steps. But he was still disappointed.

He hadn't made any progress with fixing up the IV line when Ethan started to move again. Both his arms tried to move but Dr McKay pressed both of them down on the bed - effectively restraining him. Ethan was connected up to a lot of important things and he couldn't be allowed to disrupt them.

Dr McKay shouted for help, relieved when a couple of nurses appeared and surprised when the ED's own Connie Beauchamp came into the room. The nurses helped quickly and Dr McKay was grateful, but he looked questioningly towards Connie.

"I came up to see how he was doing... I guess I can see," she explained quickly.

Dr McKay told those in the room, about the situation a quickly as he could, and everyone did their best to help.

Connie stepped forward and shushed everyone in the room after a moment. Dr McKay raised his eyebrows but she didn't seem to notice. Instead she spoke in a comforting voice and stroked some of Ethan's blonde hair off his forehead.

"Shh, it's okay, Ethan," she whispered. "It'll be okay, just relax. It's alright, you're fine." She continued to stroke his hair and Dr McKay felt Ethan's tense arms loosen. Ethan's breathing evened out and his pulse slowed.

He was asleep.