As it happened, to get to Stephanie they needed to pass Ethan. Elizabeth didn't give the room a second glance, of course she didn't, but Cal did. He had stared through the partially covered-with-blinds glass to where his ill little brother lay. And watching Elizabeth be so brave when faced with Stephanie in that condition, Cal found the ounce of courage he needed.

Palm on the door handle, he shakily pushed it open. The room was familiar to him; he had spent practically two months in it by Ethan's bedside. Yet now, without all the machinery keeping Ethan alive because he was unable to do it by himself, the room seemed strangely alien.

He slowly walked over to Ethan's side. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully, so Cal did his best not to disturb him. By habit, he glanced at the monitors that Ethan was attached to. They seemed normal. He looked at Ethan's chest, comforted in the knowledge that his baby brother was still breathing regularly. His face wasn't pale. The room was warm and Ethan's cheeks were slightly rosy. He looked so alive.

Tenderly he placed his hand on top of Ethan's. He was careful enough not to wake him, but to have that touch made it all more real. Ethan was alive and breathing by himself and okay.

'But he isn't okay' was the thought that brought him smack down onto the concrete of reality. Ethan's level of brain damage hadn't been properly assessed yet and there were so many things that could come out of that.

Cal looked at his hand on the top of Ethan's. He wished hard for Ethan to wake up and take his hand back, he wished hard to see Ethan open his eyes and smile.

He wished and wished and wished, but nothing happened.

He glanced back to Ethan's face. "I love you, Nibbles," Cal whispered, his eyes filling up with tears. He withdrew his hand and wiped furiously at his eyes. He was not going to cry.

A thick Scottish accent floated its way towards his ears and Cal, without looking back, departed the room and slipped out the corridor, being careful not to be seen by Dr McKay.

Seeing Ethan sleeping was one thing, but dealing with Dr McKay and Ethan possibly being awake was another altogether. His ounce of courage left as soon as it came. Cal doubted he could do that again, and that hurt.

Dr McKay, having heard the sound of a door clicking shut behind him, spun to see Caleb Knight hastily leaving Ethan's room. He considered calling him back, aiming to talk to him, but quickly decided against it. Cal had come to see Ethan and right now that was the best he'd done in days. He'd talk to him later.

Right now, though, he was checking to see how Ethan's responses were doing. He said a quick goodbye to the nurse he was talking to and walked into Ethan's room.

What he didn't expect was to see a not-so-peaceful Ethan. He wondered whether he was awake when his brother was in the room or had woken up in the minute since, but at least he was awake.

Dr McKay politely greeted Ethan, then proceeded to ask some basic commands. Ethan did very well: both of his hands could squeeze Dr McKay's and it seemed he could understand basic questions. He got a little frustrated (Dr McKay had seen enough patients in his time to recognise even the smallest of facial expressions) when he couldn't perform the harder tasks such as sitting up slightly unaided and pushing against Dr McKay's hand, but he was quick to reassure Ethan that it didn't matter at the moment and he was making great progress.

Unfortunately, until Ethan started speaking (and he hoped that they could get to that stage), Dr McKay couldn't accurately assess how much Ethan understood. He couldn't understand his needs or wants or just how he was feeling.

It didn't take long after Dr McKay had finished his assessment for Ethan to fall back asleep (and even sleep through obs). He jotted down the required text in Ethan's notes, smiled to himself at his progress, then left Ethan to sleep.

Cal went through the rest of the day only focusing on one more patient. Since Stephanie and since seeing Ethan, Cal had a sort of heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He'd seen how Stephanie's mother had been when she found out about her daughter and it was a painful reminder of how he had been when he'd first received a panicked phone call from Ethan, when he was listening to the voice of his bleeding out and dying brother. It was a feeling he wanted no-one to feel. It was such desperation, such hopelessness that filled you up.

One of the worst feelings in the world.

Unfortunately for him, he had been placed on minors for the rest of the day on account of him 'looking rough'. He huffed at Connie's retreating back, annoyed she'd taken resus away from him.

And he didn't want to admit she was right when his mind could only focus on one more person the entire shift.

Having finally gotten rid of Lofty's attempts to ask if he wanted company or wanted to go for a drink or wanted to see Ethan ("I can go with you if you'd like"), Cal took a taxi home. His thoughts were filled with Ethan the entire way. He partially welcomed them, severely missing his brother. One would think he'd have become used to life without his little brother's chirpy presence around but the hole where Ethan, as he used to be, once was, was only growing bigger.

He almost asked the driver to turn back around and go to the hospital, but like the coward he was, he left it. He wanted to see Ethan again, he just wanted to be by him, hold his hand, hug him, but then he was reminded of the Ethan he could see. Post-severe-injury, Ethan.

And it terrified him.

Cal paid the driver and made his way up to the flat, feeling that heaviness in his stomach. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the emptiness that the flat was now, but that didn't matter.

After all, he wouldn't notice the emptiness after a few bottles of beer.