Ahh you guys are amazing. I honestly wasn't expecting to get that many reviews so thank you all so much!

Guest - Thank you so much but I'm sorry to make you cry. Hopefully I won't do so again. No more deaths this chapter, I promise.

InfinityAndOne - Haha yes, will be in my eighties still getting that gut wrenching feeling every time I remember. I wish this happened instead too. Anyone but Cal or Ethan! I don't even feel guilty for killing Alicia, is that bad? Thank you so much for your kind comments about the last chapter.

casslourocks - Thank you so much for your review. I really do appreciate you commenting on the action sequence as I found that so hard to write, so I'm glad it was worth the many edits. Honestly, the first version was not fit to be read by anyone but myself! Hope you enjoy the conclusion.

CBloom2 - Yes, I saw that picture too and let out a completely uncharacteristic squeal that was quickly followed up by feeling sad all over again. Love that they're still friends though. Thank you for your review, I'm so pleased you enjoyed it.

Tato Potato - Thank you for reviewing, I'm glad that I got you hooked and you enjoyed reading it. Totally agree about Cal. I want to watch Cal and Ethan forever!

casualtyfics111 - Thank you so much for your kind comments, I'm really pleased you thought the reaction worked well as that was the bit I was most worried about. Hope you enjoy this final part.

Bonnie Sveen Fan - Yep, no brother deaths in my fics (well, there was the one, but we'll ignore that haha). Thank you so much for your review, I'm glad you liked it, and if you liked the support in the last chapter there is more to come.

So, part 2 of 2. Please let me know what you think. I have a million more ideas buzzing round in my head but not sure which, if any, will form themselves into a fic. Hope you enjoy! x

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If Cal's honest with himself, his decision to go home was only partly to rescue Ethan from a very public breakdown. In the hospital his chest had felt tight, as if he could only manage small breaths, and the thought of Alicia lying dead just a few rooms away made it even harder to breathe. His whole body ached with the scope of what had happened and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into a universe where his friend hadn't been murdered in front of him.

But now he's back in their flat, Cal wishes he hadn't been so hasty to usher Charlie out of the door. He's cold to the bone from the dark, rainy night, and yet it's not his temperature that causes him to shiver, but the sight of his brother.

Ethan's perched on the edge of the sofa and hasn't uttered a word since they got home. The coffee Cal made him remains untouched and the only movement is an occasional dab of a tissue to his nose. His brother looks broken, like someone has taken all the pieces of Ethan and put them back together in the wrong order.

Cal wishes they could wipe their memories clean.

Instead, he clears his throat and edges one step closer to the surrogate version of his brother.

"Alright if I grab the first shower?" Cal asks. He waits, longing for a sarcastic reply about how he never usually asks permission.

Ethan's head moves barely enough to constitute a nod but enough for Cal to make his escape.

Once the bathroom door is locked behind him, Cal leans on it, grateful for something to steady his jelly-like legs. An anguished sobs escapes and he clamps his hand to his mouth, desperate for Ethan not to hear. He doubles over, opens his mouth as wide as he can and unleashes a silent scream. His head is pounding. He wishes he could stop thinking about it but scenes from the day are on loop, playing over and over in his brain. His own voice echoes around his head: What you gonna do, attack him? He'd thrown the first punch and from then on everything had gone wrong.

He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. The cut on his cheek is alarming but he stares questioningly into his own eyes instead, trying to read his own soul, whether it's that of a good person, or a bad. He can't look at himself for long and scrunches his eyes shut, taking several deep breaths.

His body aches as he eases his top over his head. There's already a deep purple bruise across his abdomen from where Scott had kicked him. He fingers the area, testing how hard he can bear his fingers to press.

He turns the shower up to scorching and shivers as he stands naked, waiting for it to reach peak temperature before getting in. The water stings as it hits his skin. His arms remain limp by his side as he lets the water encase him, not bothering to wash or even prevent the water from running into his eyes. His shoulders shake as he starts to sob.

When he feels as confident as he can that he's pulled himself back together, he gets out the shower and towels himself dry. Even the act of getting dressed feels a huge effort. He hopes he's been gone long enough for a miracle to have happened with Ethan because if it hasn't, he doesn't have a clue how to help.

But back in the lounge, his brother remains prone, exactly where he'd left him.

"You need to get out of those wet clothes, mate," Cal says by way of greeting.

He's not surprised when Ethan ignores him. It's frustrating really. He's hurting too, yet he's still managing to sustain his end of a conversation.

"Ethan." There's an edge to his voice that he doesn't bother to disguise.

Ethan tilts his head and Cal can see the thoughts rippling across his forehead as he frowns.

"I- I don't get it," Ethan finally mumbles.

"Don't get what?"

"Why were you fighting with Scott?" The man's name is almost spat from Ethan's lips.

Cal runs a hand over his head groaning. "Doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it doesn't."

"Cal, Alicia's… dead."

His little brother's voice breaks on the last syllable and Cal feels a lump stick in his throat. His eyes sting and he stares at his lap, willing himself not to cry.

Ethan inhales noisily, trying to steady himself. "I need to know what happened."

"You were there," Cal says. "You know."

"Before then."

"Ethan, stop trying to torture yourself. It won't change what happened."

Ethan's shoulders tense. "You're missing my point."

"I'm not."

"Well, deliberately ignoring it, then."

"Why are you being difficult?"

"Difficult? Caleb, don't you care?" Ethan finally moves from the sofa but looks unsteady on his feet as he turns to glare at Cal. "My girlfriend just died. That- that's difficult. I'm just trying to understand why everything went wrong."

"Because Scott Ellison killed her," Cal says. As soon as he says it he wishes he hadn't for Ethan seems to crumble. He reaches out to steady him but Ethan steps backwards and somehow manages to stay upright by himself. Cal, at a loss of how else to proceed, continues with his sentence. "You need to ask him what he was doing with a knife!"

"A knife that he pulled on you."

"Meaning?"

Ethan turns his head to the side and Cal can see his eyes are glassy. "She got hurt during your fight, Cal."

His brother's words wind him and it takes a few moments of guilt-filled flashbacks before he can speak. "You think it was my fault?"

Ethan's lips flap. He runs a hand beneath his nose. "I- I don't know."

"Ethan, come on!" His voice betrays him, exposing his own fears that it might be true. "Ethan, I'm your brother!"

Ethan shuts his eyes and a tear trickles down both cheeks. When he looks up again there's a pleading look in his eyes and Cal finally understands. They must be more similar than they thought because Ethan's as desperate as he is to not shoulder the blame. But Cal's aching from the beating he got trying to protect him and has had enough of being scapegoated, saddled with the label of the bad brother.

"Still want to know why I was fighting?" he asks, not waiting for a response. "To protect you, little brother. Because you screwed up today and Scott was out for revenge." He sees Ethan pale but doesn't stop. "That knife was meant for you, so don't even think about pointing the finger at me."

Ethan head dips but it's not a nod, not quite. "You antagonised him." It sounds like a question. "I could have- could have talked to him. Made him understand that I did all I could to help his dad."

"Get in the real world, Ethan. You pissed off an Ellison, it was never going to be civil."

Ethan's head drops again so his chin is on his chest. His shoulders slump. He looks like all life has been dragged out of him and Cal realises he's gone too far.

"Ethan?" he says, cautiously.

"I know," he whispers. "It was my fault. Scott was after me."

"Listen. I didn't mean it. There's only one man to blame for this and it's neither you nor me."

He reaches out to squeeze his brother's shoulder but Ethan rotates out of his grip.

"And what's worse," Ethan continues, in an alien harsh tone, "I lead Alicia to him."

Cal doesn't know how to reply and he spends so long thinking that the pause becomes stagnant and his brother seems to grow even smaller. Ethan's gaze flickers towards his. Even though their eyes only met for a split second, the grief he saw on his brother's face make his own eyes prickle with tears.

"Don't follow me," Ethan says. He moves heavily towards his room.

Cal reacts slowly, his mind and body both exhausted from the day, but he does the opposite of what Ethan instructed and follows him down the corridor. "Ethan, don't-" he says, but it's too late for his brother's bedroom door clicks shut. Cal pushes it but there's a weight the other side and a firmer push confirms that Ethan is leaning against it.

"-don't shut me out," Cal whispers the final part of his sentence. His hand falls upon the wooden slats of Ethan's door but he doesn't bother pushing it, knowing it's futile. Instead, he sighs deeply and tries again. "Ethan, we shouldn't be alone," he calls.

There's no reply. Cal's not surprised but his mind is made up. He ventures to his own room only long enough to grab a half-drank bottle of whiskey and his pillow and then returns to the corridor. The sound of muffled sobbing coming from his little brother's room sends a pain right through his chest.

He drops his pillow on the floor and slides down the wall until he lands on top of it. "I'll stay here then," he says to Ethan's closed bedroom door.

Cal brings the whiskey bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig. It tastes disgusting. He can't recall when it was first opened and wonders if it was one of the many bottles he and Alicia shared in his room. He shakes his head, trying to rid the thought that Alicia was never going to drink spirits straight from a bottle again. He doesn't understand how it's possible for someone so vibrant to be stolen so quickly. The world feels quieter. Emptier.

He pretended to Ethan that he'd stopped caring for Alicia, but that isn't the truth; he just cares for his brother more. He never admits it because Ethan would suppose he was trying to soften him up after doing something wrong, but he cares, a lot. And it's because of that, that the silence from Ethan's room doesn't reassure him. He knows better than to assume just because he can't hear the tears they aren't happening. And he knows first-hand that the kind of guilt Ethan is feeling doesn't just vanish because you don't want your brother to hear.

Cal's thumb circles the rim of the whiskey bottle. The words of their argument echo round his mind and the only reason he doesn't try to block them out is because it's fractionally better than his alternative memories of Alicia bleeding out in the rain. He takes another gulp of alcohol. It burns his throat and he splutters, bringing the ever-present tears closer to the surface. Ethan's accusations weren't entirely inaccurate. He wasn't completely blameless in this. He squeezes his eyes shut wishing he hadn't succumbed to the need to play superhero, that he'd reported Scott's threats the police, or at least snuck through the back door of the pub that barmaid lead him through once and whisked Ethan and Alicia to safety.

He feels dampness on his cheeks and digs his fingers into his eyes, trying to wipe them away. It hurts his blackened eye and besides there are suddenly too many tears to stem. He brings his knees to his chest and buries his head, swaying as he sobs. His lungs feel like they are about to burst. It's not a conscious move, but his arm whips out from his huddled body and grabs the whiskey bottle, chucking it across the corridor. It smashes noisily against the wall. Liquid spills to the floor. The destruction makes him feel worse, if anything.

A familiar clearing of a throat alerts him. The sound of breaking glass must have awoken the sense of responsibility within his brother.

Cal looks up. Ethan's in the doorway, eyes red, cheeks blotchy and looking like he's seven years old again. He's finally changed out of his wet clothes into a pair of pyjama bottoms and a woollen jumper that would look more at home on a sheep. The complete mismatch would usually send a twitch of amusements to Cal's lips but it's not funny for once, not when his head's pounding and his little brother looks like his world has fallen apart.

"You're right," Ethan says. His voice is hoarse from crying. "I can't leave you on your own. Not if you're going to smash stuff."

Cal appreciates the clumsy attempt at humour but he can't work his mouth into a smile, no matter how small. He accepts Ethan's outstretched hand and allows his brother to heave him to his feet. Ethan's chin is wobbling and he looks a mess.

"Your lip's bleeding again," Cal tells him.

The normality of the comment seems to bring them to their senses and it's a mutual barrage of arms as they clutch at each other, finally seeking some comfort in the form of a hug. Cal has one hand at the base of Ethan's neck and the other so tightly around Ethan's waist that he moves with each of his brother's trembles. Ethan's face is buried against his shoulder and Cal can feel Ethan fisting the material of his hoodie.

After minutes of ragged breaths, spluttering sobs and desperate hands, Cal feels his brother grow heavy in his arms.

He manoeuvres so he can examine Ethan's appearance. His brother's face is lined with exhaustion and yet he still manages to look inexplicably young. "Come on," he says, heavily supporting Ethan as they walk back into his room. They sit together on the edge of the bed. "You really don't look good, bro."

"Tired," Ethan whispers.

"Get some sleep?"

Ethan shakes his head and Cal understands; he couldn't sleep if he tried.

"At least lie down then. Under the covers. You're still cold." He manhandles Ethan until his brother is curled on his side facing him. "Okay?"

Ethan lifts the duvet and Cal slides beneath it. They haven't shared since they were kids but he has no intention of leaving his brother. Besides, he doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts either.

An isolated tear trickles down Ethan's cheek. "We were going to be happy," he says, his voice fractured and small.

"I know," Cal says.

"It's not fair. Cal, why her?"

Cal stares at him, at a loss. "Life's… shit." He realises how insignificant that sounds but thankfully Ethan's too upset to take offence.

"I just- I just can't bear the thought of never seeing her again." Ethan's eyelashes are clogged with tears and as he blinks his cheeks grow damp. "We wasted so much time. We could have been together for months by now."

"But I got in the way," Cal says, bitterly. His head aches with sadness for his brother never getting the chance to be with the girl he loves and yet he can't help feeling angry that Ethan dismissed his own relationship as a waste of time. He'd loved Alicia too, in his own way.

Ethan stiffens. "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay."

"She was happy though, I think," Ethan says. "With you." He dabs at his eyes with the cuff of his jumper but it does little to improve the dampness of his cheeks. "I- I suppose, that's the important thing? That she was happy."

"We had fun," he confirms, feeling guilty as Ethan squirms, clearly misinterpreting the comment to be of his usual lurid standard. "But it was you she wanted. I could tell."

Ethan's breath is expelled in a rush. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"Sorry," Cal says. His body feels so empty, so heavy. "You know I'm not good at this."

"You're doing better than you think."

Cal manages a small smile at that, but it feels all wrong. He reaches for Ethan's hand under the duvet and their fingers fiercely lock together.

"We, um, we need to talk to the police," Ethan says.

Cal feels sick at the thought of having to relay every tragic detail but he knows they owe it to Alicia to get Scott put behind bars. "Yeah, but not today."

"I- I think we should."

"Ethan, I can't." He frowns furiously, trying to dispel the build-up of tears in the corner of his eye. "Please. Look, we're both a bit beaten up, it's late, a lot's happened. We'll do it tomorrow when we're feeling better."

His brother gives him a knowing look. "And when tomorrow comes and it still feels like this?"

"I won't back out," Cal tells him. He hopes he sounds more convincing that he feels. "We've got each other. We'll get each other through it, yeah?"

Ethan gives a half-hearted nod and Cal can tell if he had the energy he'd be arguing that they were making the wrong decision. Instead, silence falls and Cal rests his heavy head on the pillow, watching as his little brother fights with himself. He can feel his eyes flickering shut and longs for the oblivion of sleep.

"We nearly didn't," Ethan says out of nowhere.

Cal blinks. "Hmm?"

"You said we've got each other. We nearly didn't have," Ethan repeats.

Cal's wide awake again now and suddenly feels shivery with cold.

"It could have been you that- that died," Ethan says. He sounds terrified. "You kept dragging him off me. He could have stabbed you."

"Yeah, well, it could have been you. When I saw that knife at your throat…" Cal's eyes cloud at the thought. "Ethan, you know I'd be a mess without you. I couldn't have that."

"I- I don't know what I'd do if it had been you."

"You'd get through it. You're tougher than you think."

Ethan shakes his head. "No."

"It didn't happen," Cal tells him. "We're both still here."

The inevitable thought hangs in the air, the tragedy of the person who didn't make it. A person they both loved, but not as much as each other.

Cal lays a hand on the side of Ethan's head and gently wipes a tear out of the corner of his eye with his thumb. "It's you and me, bro."

"Always."