Cal leaned back, letting his body sink into the sofa. In one hand sat the television remote, fingers automatically switching channels. In the other his hand held a cool, half-empty beer bottle. He'd already finished one bottle and it had started to push away the guilt of hurting his brother. He knew he had to be strong for Ethan, and he knew he had to be there for Ethan while he was getting better, but his mind was falling to his survival instinct.

To run and hide.

He ran when their father died. He slept on a friends sofa for over a week and skipped school. He stayed out of contact with everyone from his family. He ran when his grandfather died. He went on a trip with his mates to the other side of the country for over a month. And he ran when his mother fell ill. He went to the other side of the world to work.

So why, after all his experience in running and half his brain telling him, was he not running now?

He felt guilty thinking about his brother. He felt guilty thinking about leaving his brother. He didn't feel guilty when he was drinking. He didn't feel guilty because soon, he wouldn't remember what he felt guilty for. He wasn't sure whether that was the right thing to do, and he wasn't sure whether he should really be drinking, but it hasn't had a negative effect before and it was always effective in making him suppress all the horrible feelings.

He took another gulp of beer, noticing his phone vibrating on the coffee table. He looked at it and sighed, knowing he'd just become comfortable. In a vein attempt to keep that comfort, he extended his leg and tried to pick up his phone between his toes. Then he realised he had sock on. So he rolled his eyes and reached to pick it up the phone, putting down the remote control just before. This way he could still keep hold of his beer.

"Hello?" he asked tiredly, leaning back again and noting he wasn't quite as comfortable anymore.

"Hello, Cal. It's Dr McKay."

Cal sat up quickly, back clicking as he did so. "What's happened? What's wrong?" he questioned frantically, wishing he'd turned the television sound down.

"Nothing is wrong, as such, Cal. I'd just like to speak to you," Dr McKay said calmly.

Cal collapsed back on the sofa, wishing Dr McKay would just leave him alone. If nothing was wrong, there was no need to call. Simple. "Then speak."

"At the hospital. I'd like to speak to you at the hospital. I noticed you weren't there - at least not anywhere I looked. Hence why I called."

Cal groaned. The last thing he needed was Dr McKay being his conscience, he already had one of those. "I needed to come home to get a few things for Ethan and me, that's all," he lied.

"So you're coming back soon?" He could practically hear Dr McKay's eyebrows raise. "You've collected the things?"

Cal threw his head back and shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't. He just couldn't. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there."

"When can I expect you?"

"Soon," Cal said with a little more force than he intended.

He heard Dr McKay sigh. "Okay, alright. I'll see you soon."

Cal hung up, not even bothering to say 'bye'. Now he had another thing to feel guilty for. He realised quite quickly after the end of the call that Dr McKay would probably be waiting for him. That would take up his time and he could be away from an emergency on the ward. And if Ethan was the emergency then he would be responsible for holding him up. Oh God, he couldn't hurt Ethan. Not again.

His hand hovered over the redial button. He had to tell Dr McKay he couldn't go, that way he wouldn't be waiting. He wouldn't go looking for him (again) and he could focus on the patients. Focus on Ethan. But then he'd get suspicious. Cal spent every second he could sitting by Ethan before, and now he was too much of a coward to even be in the same hospital as him while he was recovering. It was almost as if it was easier when Ethan was barely alive. Cal wouldn't have to be there while Ethan was suffering physically and mentally. But he would have to be there now and he wasn't strong enough.

His shaking finger pressed redial and he held the phone to his ear - taking a gulp of beer for the nerves. Dr McKay picked up almost straight away.

"Cal," he greeted.

"Erm, hi. I just rang to say that I can't come in after all." He held his breath, waiting for a response and hoping Dr McKay wouldn't ask any questions about it.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, and Cal could hear the skepticism in his voice.

Cal knew he should have planned this out and was biting his lip so hard it almost bled. "Well, not exactly. I've run out of petrol, you see."

"What about if you walk?"

"I don't live that closely," Cal said, even though it wouldn't take more than half-an-hour or forty-five minutes, and Cal would have happily done that before Ethan woke.

"How closely do you live?"

"Well, I can't walk," he persisted. "I have to bring some stuff for Ethan as I mentioned before, and I can't carry it all."

"How much is there?"

"Just some stuff," he said frustratedly, becoming annoyed with Dr McKay. He couldn't give him specifics, there was no stuff. He hadn't even thought about it.

"Can't you get a bus, then?" he said instantly.

Cal wanted to slam his beer bottle down. He really didn't want there to be a solution that Dr McKay could come up with that he couldn't think of a lie to avoid. "There isn't one for over an hour."

"What about a taxi?"

"I'm skint." He doubted Dr McKay believed that, but it was worth a try.

"I can pay."

"No, no. I can't allow that," he said, even though he would always be more than happy for someone else to pay for a taxi.

"So how will you get here?" Dr McKay said, and Cal wanted to just hang up and get away from his determination. But that would arouse suspicion.

"I'll, er, take the bus when it comes."

"Well, I'd like to speak to you as soon as possible, Cal."

"Can't you just speak to me over the phone?"

"It's not ideal, but I don't really want to wait until you come here considering it'll take a while before you arrive."

"It's fine, I'm all ears now."

"Well earlier, although not reacting to a command, Ethan started to move. We're unsure whether it was conscious movement or not - but it's a good sign. We're hoping to see move improvement now, and maybe get him to respond to commands… Cal, you still there?"

Cal breathed out. "Yeah, yeah. I'm still here."

He heard Dr McKay hesitate. "I'd really like to discuss this further, Caleb. And I need you to be here." He paused. "So does your brother, Caleb. Ethan needs you."

Cal felt his guilt soar to record proportions.

"I'll see you soon, then?" Dr McKay confirmed.

"Yes. Soon," he promised, taking a sip of beer to help with the pain of lying about going to be with his brother. He was just about to hang up as Dr McKay's voice came through the phone again.

"Oh, and Caleb?"

"Hm?"

"Don't miss the bus, please."

"I won't. I promise. See you soon," Cal said, hanging up.

He sighed and lent back against the sofa, closing his eyes and taking a large gulp of beer - finishing the bottle. He practically threw it to the table and heard it smash, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Ethan would tell him off and set about cleaning the up the glass. But Ethan wasn't here and he might not ever do that again.