Cal was sitting numbly on the sofa, his hands resting in his lap. It was weird, he realised. He felt disconnected from his surroundings. Almost as if he was not real — just a figment of a distorted reality. And the strangest thing was that he knew he was real, he knew that his odd feelings were the things that weren't real and were just tricking him, yet he couldn't stop thinking about this. He was real. Everything around him was real.

He watched, detached, as Max and Lofty cleared up the glass from around him and just made the general environment neater. The bottles were removed, the television control sat on the table straight, everything seemed cleaner and somehow more… human (if an environment was human), but it didn't help Cal or his detached reality. It was just more different. Ethan should be cleaning up after him, nagging him to do housework and eventually giving up. Ethan should be helping him as he fell apart, sitting by him and comforting him. And although he appreciated Max and Lofty, they weren't his brother. They would never match up.

With a sudden realisation, he stood up. He should be helping, not sitting around being useless. That's all he's been for the past couple of months. Useless. He couldn't even help his brother. He glanced around, but his knees became too weak to hold him and he sunk back down onto the sofa, leaning back and shutting his eyes tightly, desperately trying to remember the last time he felt even the tiniest bit normal. Then he sighed dejectedly. He hadn't done since Ethan was attacked. Just when he and Ethan were getting on well, just as they'd started to share the bond they had when they were children…

…then it all came crashing down.

He whacked his head against the back of the sofa, feeling tears slip down his cheeks, escaping from his eyes. He almost wished Ethan wasn't awake yet. Then he wouldn't be in pain, unable to do anything and facing a tough recovery, all because of Cal's incompetence and stupid, stupid actions.

Then he called himself a whole load of names ("language, Caleb" as Ethan would say) because Ethan was his little brother and he wanted more than anything for him to be well and alright. He was a terrible brother if he even thought about Ethan not waking up.

"Cal?" Max's voice cut through the fog of thoughts like a lightbulb, dragging him back to reality. Cal felt the sofa dip beside him, indicating either Max or Lofty had sat down. "Look, mate, we tidied up a bit," said Max to the left of him. "Can either of us do anything for you?"

Cal forced his eyes open and, with considerable effort, sat up almost straight. He glanced at Max, sitting beside him, and Lofty, who was hovering a couple of meters in front of him.

He shook his head, unable to do much more with his heavy body.

Cal noticed the long look Lofty gave Max. "What?" he groaned.

"W-what are you sorry for?" Lofty asked hesitantly.

"Huh?" he grunted.

Lofty was silent. He seemed to start to regret what he asked.

"You said you were sorry. What for?" Max said instead.

Cal tried to remember what they were talking about, which made his head hurt. There was a vague recollection, somewhere in the back of his mind, of him saying sorry to them when they first arrived. But that seemed like hours ago and he wasn't entirely sure it even happened.

"Doesn't matter," he said tiredly, leaning back against the sofa again. "Don't feel well."

Cal couldn't tell whether he felt ill because he'd had too much to drink or he hadn't had enough. It was probably the latter. He hadn't forgotten about Ethan yet, so it was definitely the latter.

Then the name calling at himself came again. He shouldn't be forgetting about Ethan. He should be sitting with Ethan, helping and supporting him. He should have been there from when he woke up. Then after Connie and Dr McKay had talked to him. Not run off an hour after Ethan had woken up because he was terrified and not avoided Ethan or any mention of him since.

He was such an awful brother.

"Mate," Max approached, drawing Cal out of his thoughts once again. "Do you want to lie down?"

Cal didn't bother opening his eyes again. "Want to drink 'till it doesn't hurt."

"We know." Lofty's voice was sad. "But it won't help. You'll end up with a hangover and feel worse."

He would have laughed had the happiness not been completely drained from his body. "Couldn't feel worse."

There was silence for a moment.

"How about you go and lie down, and we'll make you some lunch? Sound good?"

This time, he did open his eyes. "No. You need to work."

"Would you like to come with us? Y'know… come and see Ethan?"

Cal stood up so quickly it looked like he'd been burnt. "I'm… going to lie down." He rushed off into the hallway, breathing far too quickly. For a moment, he felt like he was going to be sick. Then it past and all he could do was let more tears fall. He dragged his feet as he walked in the direction of his bedroom, but before he could go into his, he turned and walked into Ethan's.

He collapsed onto the bed, snuggling up on top of the covers and closing his eyes, trying to imagine a world where everything was okay.

After all, nothing would ever be okay again.

It was her break, and Lily could finally get away from the busy ED and visit Ethan. It was the first time she'd seen him since he'd woken up, and was glad to see him off the ventilator. He looked… better, somehow. Healthier. She knew she was probably imagining things, but for once she could let her imagination run away with her.

She hesitantly brushed her fingers over his hand, willing herself to take her best friend's hand but not having the courage.

Wait. Did his fingers just twitch?

She looked closely, peering and watching and waiting… and…

Please, Ethan. Please.

It happened again. Lily let herself smile in hope. "Ethan, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." She carefully placed her hand in Ethan's soft and limp one, waiting and hoping. She didn't know much on Ethan's current condition, but she didn't expect anything good so soon.

So she wasn't surprised when there was no response from Ethan.

Disappointed, she withdrew her hand and took a step back, letting her arm hang by her side. Lily sighed and watched her friend's regular breathing, drawing the slightest bit of comfort from it. She vaguely wondered where Cal was, but it didn't last long. He probably just popped off for a bit.

Lily jumped as the door opened, disturbing the silence (well, the silence that included hospital machine noises). She turned around and smiled as she saw Ethan's doctor walk in.

"Don't mind me," he said.

Lily stepped back further. "His fingers just twitched, on his right hand," she mentioned, feeling the need to tell him straight away. "But he didn't respond to my voice."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"How is he?" she asked, looking at his peaceful face.

He looked up from the notes he'd been studying. "Dr Chao, right?"

"Yes."

"He's… getting there," Dr McKay said, scribbling something down.

She smiled slightly, but wished desperately for the day when she and Ethan could both discuss complex medical research and patients together like they used to.

Like they used to… and might never do again.

As she mindlessly looked around the room, her eyes were drawn to a small, fluffy thing on the table at the end of the bed. Lily reached for it and picked up, what she now realised was, a small teddy. Recognising it instantly, she had to ask: "where was this found?"

He pointed to a spot on the floor with his pen, uninterested. "Just there."

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "She didn't even take it," Lily whispered to herself.

That caught Dr McKay's attention. "I'm sorry?"

Lily looked up from the teddy.

"Forgive me," he said. "I don't mean to pry."

She waved it off. "It's okay." Lily carefully placed the teddy back down, looking at it sadly. "Honey — you know Honey? — well, she just… left a few days ago." Lily couldn't help the disgust in her voice. Honey was the reason Ethan was outside in that area on his break. Ethan adored her; he thought the world of her. But when she found out what Ethan's recovery (if it was even a full recovery) would be like, she just left. Probably too much to handle for the coffee shop lady, she thought bitterly.

The few seconds of silence ended and Dr McKay's face fell. "For good?"

"For good," she confirmed.

Dr McKay gave a small sigh of sympathy. "Poor Ethan." He sadly looked at him.

Lily jumped as her pager beeped, and was glad Dr McKay hadn't seen her embarrassing reaction. "I'm sorry, I must get on."

She stole one last glance at her friend, wishing just something would happen because he needed to be okay. After all the fighting he did, he couldn't give up just when he could reach the end. Lily turned and started to walk out of the room, rushing to get back to her patient in resus.

But she wasn't far enough down the corridor to not hear Dr McKay's desperate shout.

"Can I get some help in here, please?!"