Max took a deep breath of the humid air as he stepped out the side entrance of the paediatrics ward, and into the mid-afternoon sun. It grazed across the car park and he took a left, speeding into a jog where the car park met the footpath. Through the ED car park and around to the bus stop, he couldn't help but constantly glance behind to check no one was following him – not that they would be, he'd told them he was going.

For a split-second, he paused. What if he wasn't back in time for the end of his boyfriend's surgery? Who knew how long it might take to do what he was planning. He knew the man's face, but was Ben the more important cause here? He'd been waiting for surgery for nearly ten years now…

Max thought back to their original plans as he finally reached the exit of the hospital car park, leading out onto an unfamiliar a-road. They'd planned to move out together when they were both nineteen, make Max Lofty's next-of-kin; Lofty could have surgery and they could live together, Lofty working as a nurse in a nearby hospital and Max as a reporter in the area.

Now though, things had changed. Lofty was going in for surgery, and Max was running away rather than staying by his side as he'd promised. That thought alone was almost enough to make him go back for him…Almost…

"Scalpel" Dylan announced, not looking up from his son's chest as the blue antibacterial liquid continued to evaporate. "We want minimal soft tissue damage to minimise scarring please"

Seb stared at the boy's chest. He didn't know what to think as he passed the scalpel to Dylan.

The blue liquid was gone entirely now, so Dylan leant down to make the first cut, before pausing, scalpel frozen an inch from the boy's body as he stared at the arm across from him.

"Um… Are you okay?" Seb asked, turning his head to see what Dylan was staring at, and coming face to face with the cuts laddered up Lofty's arm. "Ahh" His voice was strained

Dylan rolled up a sleeve of his long scrubs and put his own arm beside his son's to compare, should the scars be caused by Ben's mother rather than him. He was wrong though, and his worst suspicion confirmed as their scars matched near-identically.

"Fuck Dylan!" Seb gasped, "You need to be on a fucking ward, not working on one!"

"You know nothing!" Dylan's voice echoed around theater, the anaesthetist looking up at the pair of them nervously. "Let's just get on with it" Dylan muttered, subdued. "I'm fine, it was years ago, we'll get a psychiatrist on the ward once Ben's with us again"

Seb nodded, almost nervously, gulping as he looked back at the boy's chest. Dylan went to make the first cut.

"D'you really believe in all this trans stuff?" Seb asked, a serious tone held in his voice.

"It's not a religion Dr Grayling! But if you're asking me if I believe in science, then the answer is yes; anyone who doesn't shouldn't be a doctor" Dylan's voice was sharp and his words clipped.

Seb dipped his head to hide the redness of his face as Dylan made the first incision, concentration flooding out his anger.

Glancing around, Max thought maybe he'd made a mistake coming all this way when Alex was likely long gone by now. And he felt bad not being there for Lofty when they'd planned it so long. Sighing at his childishness, he span on his heel and strode back to the hospital, not sure how long Lofty would be in theater for.

His breaths came faster as he picked up his pace, and he looked up to the sky where grey clouds came gradually into focus – no wonder it was so humid, there was probably a storm brewing… Going after Alex probably wouldn't have been a good idea now anyway.

Upon reaching the ED waiting room, he paused. The most obvious vending machines were in there; he could pick up a packet of crisps and then go through to paediatrics to ask where his boyfriend would be after surgery without the hassle of trying to find food afterwards. Max nodded his head at his thoughts and pushed one earphone in, tapping a playlist on shuffle, before casually loping past reception to where the vending machine stood.

With a single flick of his hair and ping of a coin, a packet of crisps and a bottle of coke dropped into the receiving slot, but as Max crouched down to retrieve them, his heart skipped a beat and the ease was jerked from his grasp. A breath caught in his throat and his blood froze: A man in a faded leather jacket and heavy-duty steel capped boots stood mere metres from him. Instinctively, Max pulled his hood up and shoved the packet into the front pocket of his hoodie.

The man turned and his face was revealed as he stalked back out of the ED.

Although Max only caught a glimpse, the image of a young face, a slight scar gripping the corner of his left eye and jet black hair ruffled up stuck imprinted in his memory.

He had to protect Lofty.

Leaving his change in the slot, Max sprinted from the ED and back out onto the carpark, ignoring the drizzle that blanketed the air, coating him and his clothes in beads of sweat-like rainwater. The temperature was unbearable, but Max kept his head down as he ran around the low-roofed building to the next entrance.

"Can I help you?" A fresh-faced receptionist with blonde hair tugged back tightly addressed him as he approached the paediatrics reception.

"Yeah um…" Max tried to calm his breaths as he grabbed hold of his thoughts in attempt to pin them down. "M-my boyfriend went in for top surgery about forty minutes ago… d'you know where I could find him when he wakes up?"

"Sure! What's his name, pet?"

"Loft- sorry Benjamin Chiltern"

"Ah…" The receptionist's voice trailed off apologetically, "Um his father's already gone through… he can only have one visitor I'm afraid…"

"Oh okay" Max turned, disappointed – of course one of Ben's foster parents would already be in the family room, they were nothing like Ben's birth parents. As he reached the sliding doors, it occurred to him: both Ben's dads were in theater…

"Sorry, one more thing!" Max charged back up to the reception desk, and the receptionist looked up at him again, her smile slightly more strained this time.

"What is it?"

"Can you-can you tell me what his dad looks like please?"

"Um…" she paused in thought, "Black hair, pale, green eyes?"

"Ah. Um I think there's a problem actually" Max's voice grew in determination and he placed his palms down on the desk.

The receptionist sighed, rubbing a hand over her face and shutting her eyes, before looking back up at Max. "And what would that be?"

"Uhm… Ben was adopted a few weeks ago… His Dads are in theater operating on him now…"

"So?"

"So that man you let through wasn't his Dad…"

"Oh." The penny dropped and the change in expression on the reception's face changed so quickly Max wondered if she'd looked ashen the entire time.

"He's abusive" Max could have hit his head against the counter at the sheer level of "obvious" he was conveying by now, but he thought the receptionist had finally understood.

"Oh um… in that case, I'll call security and get another one of us to take you through to the family room?"

"Please" Max could feel the urgency growing inside as Ben grew closer and closer to the end of surgery.

The receptionist (Anne according to her badge) shook slightly as she radioed for security, only gesturing to Max and another receptionist to go through once she'd had a message back – Max felt the relief flood his chest and he nodded at her gratefully.

He didn't know what he was going to find.

"She's going to regret this surgery so much in a few years' time" Seb muttered, shaking his head at where Dylan was removing the tissue from beneath the skin. He paused and looked up at the F1.

"Sorry why would he regret this?"

"Having your chest flattened doesn't automatically make you a boy you know?" Seb spoke slowly and clearly, "She'll always be a she"

"You might believe that, but I'll tell you one thing" Dylan tried to control his temper as it flared, making his blood boil, "Being an F1 doesn't automatically mean you're going to be a good doctor" The tips of his ears glowed red with frustration, and he took a deep breath before continuing, deciding to brush the insults to his son of for the time being.

"I still don't think it's right" came the muttered reply.

"Will you stop being a child Seb?! This is our patient and we need to do what is asked of us and ensure it is done in the most efficient manner – not whinge about what we do and don't agree with!

The nurse looked up from the other side of theater and sniggered slightly as Seb handed Dylan a piece of gauze begrudgingly.

When the receptionist reached the family room, it was empty and so he left Max seated on one of the sofas. Finally, Max was able to relax: the receptionist, Jack, had been good conversation on the way over and security had clearly emptied the room, so now Max could make the most of the last hour before Lofty was put back on the ward.

A hiss broke the silence as Max unscrewed the coke and took a long sip, picking a Spiderman comic up from a table. It was an old one, probably one he'd enjoyed as a child, and it looked as though it'd seen better days. Still it was better than sitting staring at the posters with pink elephants or holding a stuffed giraffe, he decided. Just as he began to settle fully, his attention was snapped back to the room as a figure passed the glass in the door. It was strange it had attracted his attention, but he stood anyway, cracking his back as he did so.

That was funny, he thought, he could've sworn… no…

Still there was no harm in checking-

As he set one foot from the family room, he dropped the comic in surprise, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket again. The anxiety was back; wave after wave crashing against him and playing with his pulse.

Alex stood at the end of Lofty's bed, where Lofty had been mere moments ago, skyping Max. Lofty had turned the screen on his laptop off, but not the actual webcam. Max stayed silent as a belt cracked down. He wanted to cry out at the sound of his boyfriend's screams, but he knew any sound he made would be picked up on the mic and it would only make things worse. Even ending the call would make too much noise. Lofty cried, promising no one would find out, until Alex was satisfied the pleas weren't fake. He made Max promise the same; Max had stayed up all night, watching Lofty in the night in case he woke up – Lofty had stayed at Max's for three days after…

Max shook the images from his mind with a shiver – the man in the corridor had been Alex, he was sure. He had to go on; God knew what sort of harm could come to Lofty if security didn't get to Alex.

It was only when he turned the corner that it clicked: the security guards must've found the room already empty and assumed the man was already gone from the premises – it was even more reason to keep running.

All too soon, Alex was but a few steps in front of him, and Max took his chance and screamed. The sheer volume of his voice drew attention from all the surrounding nurses.

"Security! Please!" Max screamed and, sure enough, Alex began to run, chased closely by Max. He wouldn't let him get away this time, he couldn't allow Lofty to get hurt any more.

Panting he read the signs as he shot past in hot pursuit of the older man. They were heading in the one direction he never wanted to…

"Okay, can I get some suction so I can suture this please?" Dylan asked seriously, his concentration still holding out.

"Sure" Seb had long since given up the argument, desperate to just leave the theater and cool off alone. He dropped the tube when the door to theater crashed open, the hinges banging as two figures ran in, their faces blocked by the flooding light.

Following them, two hefty men in security uniform answered Max's cries.

"Careful!" Max screamed, jumping in front of Dylan. He was silenced on the last syllable as a scalpel was pushed deep into his stomach. His body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud, and a quiet groan echoed, imitating the pain he felt as the room turned dark around him. He fell into a soft mush that he'd thought was the ground when he first ran in.

Meanwhile, security wrestled with the monstrous man in the leather jacket, dragging him from theater.

Lofty's blood pressure began to drop.

"We need to get this sewn!" Dylan shouted, and for the first time, he did something he would never usually want to. "Seb… I know it's risky, but I need you to stop suction and suture the left side, while I do the right."

"B-but what about his blood pressure?" Seb stuttered, taking the second needle.

Dylan paused, unsure of the best option in which to save his son. He tried not to be distracted as Iain and Ethan from the ED strapped Max to a stretcher, having been called by security.

"We…" He trailed off as he wracked his brain for an idea, anything.

The monitor began to beep as Lofty's blood pressure dropped further, and Seb took control. Urgency flooded his voice as he spoke quickly, trying to freeze the shaking of his hands. "We need to get this sewn, and we can do blood transfusions if needs be" He instructed. The importance of the situation was too high; he'd take the after effects once it was all over, and then: he was never becoming a surgeon.

"Okay, agreed" Dylan failed to smile in his panic, but began to niftily sew the incision on the right side of the boy's chest. They released a simultaneous sigh of relief once the machine stopped beeping and they could page a porter.

"Um… good job in there today" Dylan told Seb as they began to scrub their hands and arms, "I-it was very assertive of you…"

"Thank you, but I was out of hand for the first half"

Lofty winced as he felt a pounding pain in his head. Everything was faded and blurry. A light shone in his eyes and he blinked a few times, mouth dry.

"Mwah?"

"Here, try and take a sip…" Dylan spoke softly, offering a plastic beaker of water, and wet Lofty's lips with it slightly. David came around his other side as Lofty's vision finally cleared.

"Here" David also spoke quietly, placing a hand under his son's back and trying to ignore the flinch that coursed through him. It was slightly numbed by the anaesthetic however, which made it feel odd.

Once Lofty was sitting, he tested his arms, which had minimal movement due to the surgery he'd undergone, but he managed to rotate them just enough to rub his eyes and he took another sip from the beaker.

"Max?" His words formed fully now, but his heart dropped at the new expression on Dylan's face. He rubbed his eyes again to confirm.

Dylan shook his head.