Nebulas Writings

“Anna…”

“Sam, hey…Is everything okay?”. You’re surprised to see him at your door, and you try to push the thoughts of why he’s turned up, looking like that, to see you from your mind.

“Can we talk? Sofia is gone, and the boys are down for the night”.

At the mention of her name you feel anger bubbling up, and your expression hardens. “I was about to go to bed, actually”.

“It won’t take long. I need to apologize for what happened”.

Sam touches his neck tenderly and releases a heavy sigh. Your hands itch to help him relieve some of that tension, to stroke him, to touch him…His gaze meets yours, pleading with you.

“Please. I don’t like how we left things back there”.

Your resolve wavers, and your mind flicks back to the conversation you had with Jenny. To the small, delicate package folded neatly in your bathroom, an impulse buy when you’d been out with the boys earlier that you’d hoped would be an extra surprise for Sam, should the night have gone that way. It hadn’t, not with the entrance of Sofia, but she was gone now. After a lingering look, you step back and give Sam space to enter the room. You close the door behind him and turn, gasping softly when you find him surprisingly close.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I never should’ve let Sofia talk to you that way. I should’ve been more insistent that she stop immediately, instead of trying to wait for an opening ”.

Sam reaches out and places his hands over your shoulders. You tense, wanting him to touch you and leave you alone all at once. “Sam…Why didn’t you stop her right away?”. You feel a little betrayed, although the goosepimples rising where his warm hands rest on your skin do nothing to hide your other feelings about him.

“I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the boys…But that’s no excuse. Especially since Sofia ended up doing that anyway” he replied, remorseful.

“She made me feel like I wasn’t even there, Sam”.

“I told her that was completely unacceptable as soon as I finished putting the boys to bed”.

Despite everything, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Of course she didn’t put them to bed, wouldn’t want to break a nail. You try not to be too smug, although the thought of her wrestling them into bed makes it hard not to smile more. “Oh?” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, “Aunt Sofia didn’t want to do it?”.

Sam hesitates. “She…struggles with them. I decided to save us all an hour or two and take over”.

You meet Sam’s gaze, and feel yourself start to thaw a bit. His hands slip away from your shoulders, causing you to shiver as they go.  

“Sam…I forgive you”. You smile softly. “You make it hard to stay mad at you”.

“Good”.

Your expressions sours. “It’s not the same as an apology from her, though. Also, why isn’t Sofia here, talking to me herself? Is she too good to apologize to ‘the help’”. You make speech marks in the air, and Sam winces a little, clearly uncomfortable at you referring to yourself like that.

“I told her to go home. I just…”. He sighs. “I just wanted to enjoy what was left of my birthday. Everything had been so perfect…until she got here”.

You notice how he looks tense, as he rubs his shoulders with a pained expression. “I just got these knots out, and they’re already back”.

Your mind flicks to the massage bar, to the package wrapped up in your bathroom, and you make an instant decision. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve seen Sam as a thoughtful, kind person who wants to make the world a better place; and someone like Sofia was not going to be anywhere near good enough for him. Or the boys. Aside from that, he was gorgeous; and Jenny was right. You knew how to play the game, and play it you would. “Maybe I can do something about that for you”. You move behind Sam and slip your palms over his shoulders, digging your thumbs into the tense muscles. He groans loudly, and you relish in the sound.

“Ohmygod…That feels…But you’ve already done more than enough, Anna”.

You smile, kneading harder. “Not as far as these knots are concerned”. Sam moans again and you shiver at the noise, resolve hardening with every passing moment. Your lips find his ear, speaking just above a whisper. “Tell me where it hurts”.

“A little higher. Almost – Ohhhh…”.

You dig your thumbs harder into his back, and you feel him melt into your touch. “You should get on the bed” you whisper into his ear boldly. You see Sam swallow, and he looks at you for a long moment before obeying. Your mind wanders, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. You watch Sam stretch out on the bed, facing away from you, and you smile. “I’ll be five minutes” you promise, “could you take your pants off?”. You slip into your ensuite before he could ask questions.

A little more than five minutes later and you emerge, Sam still facing away from you.

“You know” he muses, hearing the ensuite door open, “I think you’re one of the only people who’ve kept me waiting and I’m not…”. His voice trails off as he turns to look at you, and he swallows hard. “Anna…”.

You blush at the way he stares at you, but you stand firm. Slowly you move over to the bed, the white silk dressing gown you’re wearing not doing anything to hide the lacy, red bra and matching thong you’d changed into, nothing else covering you. You’d chosen the deep red to compliment your skin, and you looked killer, if you did say so yourself. Then again, by the look on Sam’s face, you didn’t need to tell yourself that he liked what he saw. “Would you like a massage, Mr Dalton?” you purred, licking your lower lip as you approached the edge of the bed, slipping the silken gown off painfully slowly.

“I…You-“

“Shhh” you whisper, smiling softly. You reach over to the massage bar and straddle his back, a warm wave of pleasure rippling through you as your bare skin touches his, pleasantly surprised that he’d obeyed, and was now only wearing his boxers (the shirt also discarded on the floor). You rub the bar over your hands, making them slick with the sweet-smelling oil, before you splay them on his shoulders. Sam groans immediately, and you bite your lip, mapping every contour of his toned back and shoulders; admiring the tanned skin on show.

“You feel…That feels…” he mutters, shifting and squirming under your touch as you move your hands lower, daring to slip beneath the material of his boxers, toying with his hips and butt. Sam inhales sharply, and you note his toes and fingers curling. “Ohhh…Christ, Anna…What are you doing to me”.

You shiver, the way his voice aches your name making a pool of excitement rise up within you. “Good things, I hope” you replied, bending down. Your breasts press against his back as you whisper in his ear. “Sam, I…” you couldn’t say anything else, as his lips caught your own in a passionate kiss. All thoughts of what you were going to say drifted away and you allow yourself to be pulled down, the room spinning as he flips you over; now looking down at you with hungry eyes. The way you watch them rake over your body makes you giddy, and you shift beneath him. “No fair” you mutter, placing your hands flat against his chest. “I wasn’t done”. You push back and Sam lets you, laughing a little as you settle on-top of him again, facing him this time.

“You look incredible” he muttered, daring to slide his hands over your body. “Is this part of my birthday gift?”. His voice is husky with want, his hands toying with your bra.

“It is” you reply, sliding down his front. “Now, let me show you how else I can work my hands”.

Sam inhales sharply and swears under his breath as you rub the front of his boxers, delighted at his obvious excitement. Slowly you pull them down, your face now next to his hips, and you gasp softly, feeling that desire building up in your core again as you looked upon him. “Why, Mr Dalton” you muttered, gently taking him in your hand, “you kept this quiet, didn’t you?”. You watch gleefully as he opened his mouth to respond, only for his reply to melt into a guttural groan, your hand now pumping his cock, thumb swiping over the head where a bead of pre-cum had appeared.

“Don’t stop” he pleads, “that feels so good…Don’t stop…”.

His voice and his words spur you on, your own anticipation building and building. You bend your head and lick the tip of his cock, a sudden gasp from Sam all the permission you need to take him into your mouth. You bob up and down, moaning around his girth, your mouth full and dripping with saliva and precum, dribbling down your chin. Unable to take it anymore, you slip a free hand underneath the lacy material of your thong, and you run gentle circles over your clit; moaning harder.

“Anna, I-I can’t-!” Sam groans, his hips bucking into your mouth. You moan louder, preparing for his release, when you suddenly find yourself being flipped over. You gasp as his fingers find your soaking core, and he starts to rub, desperately, making you squirm and cry out. “Sam!” you beg, melting under his ministrations. Your cries were smothered by a desperate, passionate kiss and you eagerly returned it, your tongue swiping over his as he positioned himself over you, all the while moving his fingers in just the right way to make you putty in his hands.

His eyes, dark and foggy with lust, found yours and you nod in answer to the silent question. You wrap your arms around his back, clinging onto him desperately as he slips inside you, groaning loudly as he pushes in, slowly, savouring it.

“Ohhhh God….Sam, please” you beg now, bucking your hips in time with his as he thrusts in and out of you, again and again, hitting that sweet spot oh so deep inside. You’ve never felt anything like it, stars already blinding your vision but still riding the high; building over and over. “Please…!”.

“I’m not…I don’t” he says, voice strained, shaking his head.

“It’s okay!” you promise desperately, tugging him close and being forever grateful that Jenny had talked you into getting an IUD. “You can trust me, I swear just – Don’t stop. It’s okay, please. I need you to..! Please, Sam!”.

His resolve wavers and his lips meet yours again in a crashing embrace. “Anna-!” he cries out, finally, pressing himself into you fully as he comes undone, thrusting and groaning as he finishes deep inside of you.

Your own orgasm follows soon after, and you shiver uncontrollably, writhing beneath him as your nails dig into his back, shaking as you desperately cling to eachother, each one of you moving and grinding in sheer bliss

You slowly come down from your high, although you stayed connected for a while, laying together and enjoying the comforting silence and comedown.

“I’m glad these walls are insulated for noise control” Sam mutters, absently mindedly playing with a strand of your hair. “I wouldn’t want you to stay quiet if that’s what’s in store…Your voice is so damn sexy”.

You laugh and slap his chest, before running your hands over the skin. “I take it this means your not mad or…Gunna chuck me out?”.

Sam sits back, stared deeply into your eyes. “I would never” he whispers gently, stroking your cheek. “But what this means I…I don’t know”.

You nod, understanding, and rest your head against him. “Can we just enjoy this?” you ask softly, as you feel his grip tighten around you.

“I would like nothing more” he replied.

“Casey, if you don’t get up in five minutes I swear to God I’m going to throw a bucket of cold water on you”.

The yelling from the door awoke him, and Casey poked his head out of under the sheets. “Shuddup, Jackie!” he yelled back, throwing a pillow at the door. “I’m not working today!”.

“I know!” came a reply, “but for the tenth time you’ve got a visitor and if I have to make small talk for much long I’m going to go insane”.

“Tell them to go away” he muttered half-heartedly, burying his head back down into his pillow.

“Oh for the love of; just go in there” he heard Jackie say, someone else responding in a muffled tone. Casey groaned and threw another pillow at the door, just as it opened, hitting the guest square in the face.

“Hi to you too, sleepy head”.

“Bryce!” Casey exclaimed, scrambling to sit up. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there”.

The reply was laughter, and the surgeon gently closed the door behind him. “Hey, no worries. A strange guy barging in your room, I get it. I’m just glad you didn’t hit lunch”. He held up a paper bag and two cups of coffee.

“Lunch? Oh man, what time is it?”. Casey sat up properly, rubbed his face and tried to feebly fix his hair which was sticking up all over the place.

“Um…Just er, just past two”.

“You okay? You sound a bit nervous”.

“Oh, me? Yeah, totally fine. Just…you know…” he gestured to Casey’s half naked body, sheets curled around him like the damn Venus de Millo.

“Oh! Shit, sorry er let me just…” Casey leaned over, more of the covers slipping down his body and revealing his toned chest and back making Bryce swallow hard. “I’ve got a jumper somewhere…” he leaned even further, grey boxers peeking out from beneath the sheet. If Bryce hadn’t been holding two hot cups of coffee, he wondered if he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.

“There…Sorry” Casey smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly, now wearing the slouch grey sweater from the previous night.

“Don’t apologise” Bryce said, smiling easily as he sat down next to Casey on the bed. “I mean, that just gave me a huge flashback as to why I’m so into you in the first place”.

“Oh don’t, I’m a complete mess” Casey laughed, gratefully taking the hot drink and pastry Bryce had bought over. “So…What brings you here? Unless you were hoping to catch me half naked”.

“Well, not just that” Bryce responded, grinning now. “I was just worried I guess. About you…About last night. You were in such a state, Case”.

The diagnostician nodded glumly, and looked to the floor, playing with the plastic coffee cup. “I was…Am. I don’t know”.

“I don’t wanna pry, but…I kinda also had an ulterior motive for coming over?”.

Casey looked back at Bryce, who was serious in his expression. “Oh?”.

“I’m not blind, Casey. It doesn’t take a hotshot Doctor like you to work out you were waiting for someone last night for a hook-up or whatever, and they didn’t show. I just…I want a straight answer, I guess? You know how I feel about you, and I didn’t come here to upset you more or stress you out, and if you want me to go just tell me and I’ll leave but…I really, really like you Casey. Like, like you…But if there’s someone else or you’re not into me then I’d rather know”.

Casey sighed, guilt knotting in his stomach. “You’re not wrong” he answered, shaking his head. “But it wasn’t just a hookup. It was with someone I’ve been waiting for, and…I don’t know, he means a lot to me in lots of different ways”.

Bryce nodded, thinking carefully. “It’s Dr Ramsey, right?”.

Casey almost spat out the coffee he’d been drinking, and his head snapped to Bryce. “How did you-“.

“You’re phone” Bryce admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, but last night when I dropped you off your phone was left in the cab. I mean I’ve suspected for a while that something’s been going on between you two. Then, about 5am this morning, your phone lit up with an onslaught of messages, missed calls, voicemails…All from him”.

Casey laughed, sadly. “Well, you’re right. It was him. I was foolish enough to think he might want to be with me, and look where it got me. Clown numero uno”.

“Hey!” Bryce snapped, “if anyone’s the clown here, Casey, it’s Dr Ramsey! If you’d been waiting for me, there is no way I would’ve missed it, no matter what happened! I’d never make you feel like you did last night, I’d never let you down or humiliate you or make you search for help from someone else”.

Casey looked away. “I was wrong to contact you last night, I just…”

“You like me, right?”.

Casey looked over at Bryce. “Of course I do”.

“You like like me, right?”.

“….Bryce…”.

“You’ve been avoiding being with me because you’ve been waiting for him, right? When he pissed off to the Amazon for God knows how long you were being faithful, you didn’t sleep with me, because you thought you had something with him, right?”.

“…Yes”.

Bryce took a deep breath, a small smile on his lips. “You don’t know how relieved I am that this has been going on”.

Casey’s brow furrowed and he frowned, confused and a little hurt. “Relieved? Why the hell would you be relieved?”.

“Listen, Casey, I’ve been in all sorts of relationships before. Threeway, fourway, I’m with her and she’s with him way. I thought you didn’t like me! I thought that’s why you were staying away from me! It doesn’t bother me who you’re with, me and someone else at the same time, whatever. You can want to be with more than one person. It doesn’t make you an asshole, it just means you’ve got a lotta love to give, Casey”.

The other man felt tears welling in his eyes. “I had to choose, Bryce, and I…I chose Dr Ramsey. But he didn’t choose me. I don’t know how that makes me feel. I was so certain and now…I don’t know, man”.

Bryce reached out, and cupped Casey’s cheek in his hand. “I would never make you choose” he said softly. “As long as I get to be a part of whatever’s going on in your life, I’m game. I know it’s not the orthodox way of doing things, and people have called me easy and seconds and all sorts of other shit just because they think you can only be with one person at one time but that’s not how I feel. I can’t help how I feel…What I feel about relationships. About you. And I want you, Casey, I want you to be mine so damn much”.

Casey closed his eyes, shook his head. “Really? After everything that’s happened? All the shit I’ve put you through?”

Bryce laughed. “If I’ve learnt one thing, Case, it’s that something that’s worth it is never easy or straightforward. But that makes it all the sweeter in the end”. Bryce gently leaned forwards, and placed a kiss on Casey’s forehead. “You, Casey Valentine, are worth it". He moved away. "That’s all I came to say. I’m sorry for bombarding you after such a rough time, but I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t tell you how I felt. To let you know that, no matter what, you’ve got me. Always”. He stood up, brushed himself off. “I’ll…go now” he said calmly. “I don’t expect an answer straightaway, I know how hard being let down can feel just…Think about what I said, okay? You know where I am when you’ve made up your mind”.

Casey nodded, clutching the coffee cup hard as he swallowed. “Bryce?”.

The surgeon turned around from where he had gotten up. “Yeah?”

“Thanks…For everything”.

“No worries. See you later?”.

Casey nodded, seeing that signature smile from the surgeon that made his heart flutter. “For sure”. The door shut, footsteps retreated down the hall, and the diagnostician took a deep, calming breath. “How could I of been so stupid” he muttered, scalding himself. Casey wasn’t the type of person to be strung along, or not get what he wanted. The past year had proven that to him more than any other part of his life, from back when he was a student clawing and fighting his way through medical school to be the best, because he’d decided he was going to go to Edenbrook and study under Dr Ramsey and Dr Banerji; to fighting and defeating big pharma so recently because they were withholding life saving treatments, and not letting people live the way they wanted to. “Stop fucking moping! Get a grip! What’s wrong with you, you’re Casey motherfucking Valentine!”. He stood up, put the coffee cup down so hard it spilled on the side. “When do you ever get screwed over? Never! Do you sit and whine like a bitch!? No!”. He was in front of the full length mirror now, glaring at himself. “You’ve been chasing your tail for months you total moron, and for what? To be stood up? To have the best damn thing that’s happened to you walk out the door? No freaking way!”. Without thinking a second longer, Casey bolted out of his room, sprinted through the apartment and out into the corridor. He saw the lift closing, and cursed to himself, before running for the stairs. He took them two at a time, slipping in bare feet across the mixture of carpet and cheap lino. Casey skid to a halt in the entrance way after too many damn flights of stairs, and his eyes darted around. “Bryce!” he yelled, panting, as he saw the other man at the door of the building.

“Casey!? Oh my God, what’re you doing!?” Bryce ran over to him, and quickly shrugged off his jacket, covered up Casey’s bare legs by wrapping it around his waist. “You’re half naked, dude!”.

“I know!” Casey said, breathless, “but I just wanted to say that I was fucking stupid, and you don’t need to wait for my answer any more, you’ve waited and waited all this time-“

“Casey”

“And I’ve been a complete dick and I’m sorry, I was so lost and confused and-”

“Hey, Case”

“So fucking stupid! But I just wanted you to know that-”.

His rambling was cut off by a kiss, and Casey returned the gesture eagerly, breathing hard through his nose from where he’d been running and ranting.

“Done?” Bryce muttered against his lips.

“Not nearly” Casey replied, feeling Bryce smile.

“Shall we take this conversation back to your room?”.

Having now calmed down a little, the Doctor glanced around, and flushed deep red, suddenly very aware of the various onlookers. “Er…Yeah. Right now”.

Bryce laughed and slipped his hand around Casey’s waist, guiding him back to the elevator.

“Is it wrong that I’m kinda turned on right now?” he teased, as they stepped inside the metal box.

“All kinds of wrong” Casey smiled back, "but you don't care, do you? About what other people think?".

"Nope".

Casey smiled. "That’s what I like about you”.

"Is that all you like?".

The diagnostician hit Bryce lightly, before finding his hand and linking their fingers gently. "One of many things, Lahela. One of many".

Often, when he allowed himself a walk to the local coffee shop, he would attempt to imagine his life with, and without, Casey Valentine. The ironic thing was, that every time he went to the coffee shop, he would be reminded of the other Doctor, their times together and conversations. His walks started to take him a different route, and he began to frequent standing in front of a small, inconspicuous jewellery shop. They had very pretty rings and necklaces, and elegant headpieces and bracelets. He would stare at them, not really taking in the sight, as he thought about what it would be like to live with Casey as his partner. Embrace his feelings. To show him off, take him to fancy dinners and introduce him to his father, formally, all the things a good partner would do. He made his mind up quickly, within 48 hours, so he was relatively calm as the week rolled to an end, although he subconsciously checked his phone one too many times. But the following Monday morning came, and no contact from Casey followed. One weeks silence rolled into two, and two soon turned into four. He, of course, questioned Naveen almost endlessly about where Casey was, but he would be told that Mass Kenmore still needed him, and to be patient, and they hadn’t agreed an end date. So Ethan waited. Every day that ticked by, he would walk by the jewellery shop. Week three he went inside. Week five, and he left with a box. It was inconspicuous enough, but he hid it in his pocket none the less, until he was back at his office. He opened it, slowly, and regarded the simple platinum watch inside. It was handsome yet refined, and Ethan had chosen it specifically for the practicality. After all, he couldn’t have a flashy watch around the hospital. He then pulled up his sleeve, and looked upon the watch already sitting on his wrist. In fact, it had been there since he’d received it at his graduation; a gift from his father. The watch had belonged to his father, and his father before him and before him, who was gifted it by some sort of British royal family member for bravery or some such as Ethan understood it. It wasn’t shiny and new, although it was beautiful and intricate. You wouldn’t know looking at it, but the single item was more valuable to Ethan than anything else could be, from a sentimental point of view. For a man who was not overly enamoured with the idea of sentimentality and material items, it really was priceless. It represented courage, and reminded him of how proud he was when he graduated. How happy he was to see his father smile. It represented history casting back decades, his family, and it was timeless. Unending. He supposed it could be referred to as an heirloom. The watched slipped from his wrist, and he placed it in the box, now labelled with a simple red card. ‘To Casey’ it read, ‘My Choice’. He’d told the other Doctor once of how much the watch meant to him and the history of it, after the young diagnostician had enquired as he enquired of all things that piqued his interest. Ethan hoped that, by giving over the item most valuable to him, that his feelings would be understood not just through words, but by actions. How Ethan intended to commit to Casey, and him only. Of course, he still hadn’t heard Casey’s answer…He could only pray. As if on cue, after five and a half weeks, his phone suddenly lit up with a notification. Ethan practically leapt for his phone when he saw the name. Sorry it’s taken so long. He smiled at the simplicity. I have been unbelievably crazy at Mass Kenmore, and I promised myself I wouldn’t rush my decision but… I hate to admit how difficult it’s been not being able to vent to you. Ethan relaxed in his chair, reading the words as if they were gospel. Oh, and…please don’t respond to these messages. Ethan deleted the small amount of text he’d already written. But, I’ve made my choice. I suppose it’s good, in a way, it’s taken so long. It’s given you plenty of time to decide. I hope? “You have no idea” Ethan replied softly, wishing he could tell Casey everything there and then. Anyway, I’ll give you my answer at the following address. I’ve checked your diary online and can see you’re free, so don’t even try and chicken out okay? If you’re there at 7pm, this Friday, you’ll find out my answer. If you’re not there…I’ll know yours. See you? He waited, but no more text came. It was Wednesday, so he had two days. “I’ll be there, Casey” he said, firmly, clutching the box with his watch in. “Christ, nothing could stop me”.

Thursday and Friday seemed to drag on longer than the previous five weeks. Every minute was agonisingly slow, and at night sleep didn’t come to him easily at all. It was 6pm on Friday, at last, and he was finished for the day. Ethan made a straight beeline for his office, and quickly changed out of his work clothes into something, he hoped, would be pleasing to the eye. He was never one for fashion, but he had sought the guidance of a helpful shop clerk, and bought a new dark blue shirt that was slim-fitted, and a pair of black jeans which, in his opinion, were far too tight. The clerk said he looked ‘hot as hell’, so Ethan had purchased them. He was questioning it a little as he fastened a pair of cufflinks on to match the new watch he’d purchased himself and laced his shoes. 18:22. The motel address Casey had given him was 31 minutes away, on the outskirts of town. Traffic would be quiet going out of town on a Friday night, so if he took the back roads and picked up the main road at junction 7…His train of thought was cut off by a sharp rapping on his door. He cursed under his breath. Ethan had been very thorough and straight that, tonight, he was not to be disturbed. That he had an important meeting, and he was unavailable to anyone from 6pm. So, whomever was at his door now was about to get ‘unavailable’ seriously explained to them. Grumbling, and one arm in his coat, he opened the door; already poised to unleash. “Dr Emery!” he exclaimed, quickly stepping back from the woman outside his office.

“Dr…Ramsey…”.

Her voice was strained and her eyes red, as if she’d been crying heavily. “How, um, sorry”. He composed himself and opened the door a little wider. “How can I help?”. He still had time…Just.

She looked awkward, like being with him was the last thing she wanted. “I need to talk to you. Urgently”.

“Sorry, Harper, but-“

“I know, I know, you’ve got some top secret meeting to attend. Don’t think I came here lightly, I know how many extra hours you’ve given recently but this can’t wait, Ethan”.

Her tone was so severe that he automatically stepped aside. She let herself into his office, and he closed the door behind them.

“So, how can I help?”. His eyes darted to the clock on the far wall. 18:27.

Harper turned towards him, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. “You have to believe that I didn’t think…I mean I didn’t know-I didn’t mean for it, Ethan!”. Her tone was almost desperate.

The senior doctor furrowed his eyebrows, concern evident. This was entirely unlike the stoic Harper he knew, so it must be something serious. “What’s happened, Harper?”.

The other doctor didn’t say anything, just reached one shaky hand into her purse and pulled out a small item.

Ethan’s eyes widened and his words caught in his throat, sickness rushing to his stomach. There was no need to be a Doctor to recognise what was in her hand. Hell, as long as you could read instructions you’d know. “You can’t be serious” he whispered, a torrent of emotions swamping him at the sight of the two small, red lines.

“You think I’d joke about this!?” she snapped, tears streaming freely. “Please, Ethan, I need…We need to talk about this”.

Anything that he had felt, or known, or decided up until that moment suddenly seemed pointless. Like there was never going to be an option, or a point, to everything he’d prepared up for this day. For Casey. His arm dropped, coat slipping off of his arm to the floor with a clatter, the sound of the box meant for Casey hitting the floor. On auto-piolet, he gestured to the couch in his office and Harper moved towards it, as Ethan slowly closed the door to the room, shutting out the world…And his world. He knew that if Casey had chosen him, that his mind was made up. One thing the older doctor admired about the younger was his tenacity, and his unwillingness to shift on any decision he’d made. But if Ethan didn’t show…What would that do to Casey? But if Harper really was...If he was going to be...He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t abandon her. It took two of them to tango after all and there was no was he would turn into his mother. Click. The door locked, and Ethan stepped towards Dr Emery.

Casey had been at the motel for a few hours, anxious. He’d made sure to leave plenty of time to get ready, to leave Mass Kenmore and sort out the few patients he’d picked up responsibility for. It had been a rough, long few weeks but the day was finally here and he wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, spoil it. 7pm rolled around, and his eyes were fixated on the motel door. He sat at the end of the bed, in plain sight of the clock on the wall by the door. Candles were dotted around the whole place, and he’d made an effort to look as good as he could. Showered, freshly laundered clothes, new cologne. He was wearing an oversized jumper that he knew Ethan liked and jeans. Simple, but Casey was hoping they wouldn’t be too focused on clothes…If he turned up. “He’ll be here” the doctor repeated for the hundredth time. 7:15 came and went, and Casey looked out the window. Again. “It’s fine…The traffics bad. That’s all”. He checked his phone just in case. 8pm. He checked his phones history. Checked the address he’d sent earlier in the week. 9pm. The candles started to snuff out, one by one. 11pm. Casey was laying on the motel bed, feeling…He could only describe it as numb. His eyes hurt, and had long since run out of tears. Casey Valentine has chosen Ethan Ramsey, and Ethan Ramsey had chosen someone else. A thousand scenarios had run through his head to try and explain why Ethan didn’t show but none of them made sense. Not this late. Not with no text, no call. His hands were shaking as he lay in the now dark room, the few candles still burning not enough to light the room. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and dialled a number that had become foreign in the last few weeks.

“Casey! Man it’s been a long time! How’s Mass Kenmore treating you!”.

“…”.

“…Case? You there, dude?”.

“Bryce…”.

The others tone changed entirely as he heard Casey’s voice. “Hey, I’m here…What’s going on? You sound like you’ve been screaming for hours”.

“I…I need you. Sorry, no I don’t I just…What’s that noise?”

“Oh, I’m out with some college buddies. Doesn’t matter. Where are you, Casey?”.

“Oh, no, Bryce go and enjoy yourself. I’m sorry I called”.

“Hey! Don’t you dare go, Casey”.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know where you are”.

“Why? It doesn’t matter, you’re busy”.

“Tough. It does matter”.

“Why?”.

“Because you matter, Casey. You sound like hell”.

The diagnostician laughed, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “I feel like hell”.

“Where are you?”.

Casey told Bryce the address, and after a quick ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can’ they hung up. The sound of someone else’s voice managed to pull Casey out of his stupor, and he started wrapping things up at the motel. He gathered the candles, and left an envelope on the side with cash along with the key. He called the reception, told them his plans had changed and the room would be empty for the night. He picked up his other bits, pushed them all into a bag just as he heard a car pulling up outside. This late, it was pretty safe to assume it was Bryce…If it wasn’t Ethan. “It’s not him you idiot” the young doctor muttered bitterly. As he  gathered his things and left the room, looking around at the cold, empty space, he realised that as soon as that door closed he would be shutting it forever. As in, Ethan Ramsey…Forever. “Goodbye, Doctor” he whispered, before the door clicked shut, and he met Bryce halfway to the car. The surgeon was out of breath and panicked. “Take me home” Casey practically begged , as he felt warm arms wrap around him, soothing and safe.He buried his his into Bryce’s chest, squeezed his eyes shut.