Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Casualty, or anything else you recognize. I'm not the BBC (British Broadcasting Company).

A/N Again, sorry about another long wait, but I've had homework, tests, rehearsals for a play and other stuff, yeah, lots of stuff. Anyway, enjoy...

DennisDaMenace x

AdamPOV

"Listen, mate. Thanks for today, you know," I stammered, not really good at this sort of thing. He nodded and made his way out.

Deciding that I was shattered, I pulled the duvet over me and swung my legs onto the sofa. Falling asleep, I thought about the days past events. The explosion, Kirsty, Warren, Kirsty…

KirstyPOV

I heard footsteps, probably coming down the stairs. I must've been unconcious all night because, I was woken by Nita, almost screaming.

"Mum? What happened?" she asked, rushing over to me. I slowly lifted my head up tried to stand up, dissiness took over, and I almost collapsed again in my daughter's arms.

"Mum! Sit there," she said, guiding me to the sofa, before letting me collapse onto it. "What happened?" Nita asked me, with her hands on her hips. "Mum?"

I took a deep breath. "You were never meant to find out. I'm sorry," I tried to explain.

"You think I didn't hear? Him making you cry, and nearly scream the house down every night?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. Fine, if you want me to tell you, I will."

"Well, go on then! How long has it been going on? A month? A year?" she asked, her voice peircing through my ears.

"About fourteen years," I whispered, hoping she didn't hear the last word.

"THIRTEEN YEARS? This has been going on for THIRTEEN YEARS?" she shouted, maybe deliberately trying to wake Warren.

"Shush, sweetie. Look, your dad just has extreme high and low days, simple as. His ME just aggrivates him sometimes." I told her, the tears threatening to spill over my eyelids.

Nita sat next to me, and I embraced her into a hug.

"Ouch!" I cried, clutching my chest. "I think your dad fractured one or two of my ribs." I told her, trying not to look her in the eyes.

"Is this all my fault?" she finally asked me, now really concerned.

"No, you can't blame yourself for all this." I told her.

"It wasn't your fault. Your dad just got stressed. When you were born, you were early, so, you had to be put in an incubator.
"You were doing quite good at the time, but Miss Turner, the woman who helped deliver and treat you, said you were very sick and needed an operation.
"I didn't sign the form, but your dad did. And after you'd had the operation, he punched me in the face, asking, 'Why didn't you sign the form?' And it just carried on from there. I'm sorry you had to find out this way…" I sobbed.

Nita stood up. "So it is my fault! He was abusing you, over me?" she asked, her voice now very high.

"No! He was angry with me, for me being such a bad mother!" I said, defending her.

"But, you said that I was ill and I needed an operation. So why didn't you sign the form?" she asked me, sharply.

"Because I was scared. They were shouting all statistics and numbers and words at me, which I didn't understand. They said that if you did have the operation, you'd still be very sick, and probably wouldn't survive anyway. I was scared, Nita. You have to believe me." I said.

"Okay, I believe you. But why does he still do it? I'm nearly 15 for God's sake!"

"I don't know. He gets paranoid sometimes, and he just snaps. Like that one time when we went bowling, and he saw a guy looking in our direction. He shouted at him, and I had to hold him back to stop him from attacking that guy!"

She laughed. I hadn't heard her laugh for ages. I remember all those family trips and holidays we went on, and one time where we went to the beach. A seagull swooped down and pinched Nita's ice cream from right under her nose. Of course, she started screaming at the seagull, but it was perfect. We were a real family back then. But not now...

AdamPOV

I woke up to the sound of BBC Radio 1 on the radio. It was on auto-timer, set for eight 'o' clock, ready for work.

I got up, and limped into the kitchenette. Looking in the cupboards for some food, I quickly rustled up some cereal and a banana.

Pouring the old water from the kettle, and replacing it with fresh, I flicked the switch and waited for it to boil.

Sitting on one of the chairs, I ate my banana, and cereal. The kettle finished boiling and I made a coffee. Sipping my drink slowly, I remembered that I was meant to be in work today.

I rummaged round and found a pair of crutches in the closet, so I managed to get upstairs to find my coat and wallet.

Carefully stepping down the stairs, I opened the door, and stepped into the cool, breeze.

I turned the corner and saw the ED. Everyone rushing around, looking exhausted. No change there then… I thought.

Smirking, I walked into the chaotic Emergency Department, and immediately saw Zoe and Jay noticing me. They both ran forward, and asked me a million questions per second.

"Adam? What're you doing here? You should be at home, resting. How're your leg and arm?" they both asked at breakneck speed, perfectly in sync.

"I was bored at home. My arm's a little sore, and so is my leg. I know I should be at home, but I wanted something to do. I don't want to be at home watching repeats of Countdown and Doctor Who all day…" I drifted off, and eventually, they got the point and slid away.

"Mac, have you seen Kirsty?" I asked the porter, who was sneakily eating a packet of crisps with his counterpart, Noel.

"No, sorry Adam," he mumbled, between chews.

Just as usual, Kirsty burst through the ED doors, late. "Sorry, I'm late," she explained to Tess, who patted her on the shoulder and completely ignored the fact that she was over half an hour late.

"Hey," she said, breathless. She looked paler than usual.

"Hi, what's wrong? You look really pale," I stated, trying to get something out of her.

"Nita found out." She said her eyes now glassy.

"Found out what? Kirsty...?" I asked, trying to get a response, but she looked straight ahead, as if in a trance. I shook her shoulder.

"Oh, sorry, what was I saying?" she said, snapping out of it, and wiping her eyes.

I must've looked extremely confused because she said, "Adam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Walking away, I went to reassess the damage caused by the bomb. The debris had all been swept up, and the area sealed off. They only needed to now, rebuild it and the ED would be fully functional again. I assumed that some of the staff would be using the spare paramedic's lockers for the time being, and having their breaks with them.

I was patted on the back and heard a familiar, gruff voice. "Adam, back so soon?"

A/N Sorry about the length, I needed it to be this long to be able to fit everything in.

Also, sorry about the cliff-hanger at the end, but reviews are really appreciated, if anyone has ideas over who planted the bomb, I would be honoured to accept them.

Happy reading! DennisDaMenace x