A Good Kind of Different

Chapter 1

They were stood outside the ER, by an ambulance. He spoke first, with an anxious tone. 'Hi.'

'Hi?' she replied, slightly sceptically.

'Um, well...' he fidgeted, twisting his palms together in front of him. 'how are you?'

'Look, if you have something to say, just spit it out.'

'Well, I need to talk to you about something, it's really important, but I can't say it here. So maybe you could do me a favour? Let me take you out after work and we can have a chat?' Jan began to walk up, carrying a stack of paper. She flashed a quick smile to Fenisha and turned to Ethan.

'Ah, Ethan, just my man. I've got a load of case analysis forms, and one of the doctors needs to review them.' She shoves the massive pile of paper at him. 'I need it done by the end of the week. Oh, and by the way, you better look after Fenisha, or I will kill you.' And with that, she strode away, smirking slightly. Fenisha glanced down and bit her lip.

'what makes you think I'd go anywhere with you. I don't owe you anything, not after the stunt you pulled last week.' At these words, Ethan almost seemed to flinch, and his cheeks flushed.

'I know, I know, you have every reason to hate me, and after today, you'll never have to talk to me again. But trust me, it's serious, important. You need to know, for the baby's sake. Um, look, we can do this completely on your terms, you pick where we go, I'll pay, and when you want me to leave, we leave.'

'Alright' she shrugged. 'but for the record, I don't forgive you, this is for the kid.'

The pub was on the other side of Holby, so they were unlikely to run into anyone from work. The whole car journey was in a stony silence. As they sat down, she told him that he should have a burger, since they were the best thing there. After giving the menu a cursory glance, he shrugged.

'Yeah, alright. I can always eat a burger.' At that, Fenisha turned to a waiter, easily snapping back to her usual smirk and cheerful tone, so different to the cold monotone with which she had been addressing Ethan.

'Hi jeff, good to see you. A burger, nachos and two lemonades. Thanks' She turned to Ethan. 'It's always better to get the order in early.' Neither of them wanted to keep talking, so it was just awkward. Each time a silence began to stretch out too far, it would eventually be filled with a banal comment.

'I thought you said the burgers were the best?' pause.

'Yeah, they are, but the baby seems to want guacamole today.' This silence just stretched, settling thickly between them until the food arrived.

'Sooo, I guess I should just tell you.'

'Yeah, and once you have, I'm willing to bet you'll sod back off, leaving me to look after the kid you couldn't care less about.'

'No, that isn't true!'

'well, that's what it looks like from here.'

'I've...'Ethan took a sharp breath in, and Fenisha raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'I've got Huntington's' Fenisha tilted her face up from her lap, and their eyes locked. For the first time in months, neither of them looked away. 'It's a progressive brain disorder. When it starts, my hands will begin to shake. Then the other symptoms begin to start. Depression, difficulty concentrating, insomnia, anger issues.' All Fenisha could do was stare, trying to reconcile these words with the funny, charming, and, above all, lively Ethan that she knew. 'The brain is slowly shutting down.' He could feel the tears begin to prick behind his eyelids, but just took a deep breath and continued. 'I'll lose control of my limbs, and my personality will begin to change, until I won't be ME anymore. And eventually, I won't be able to walk, speak, or eat and it will be hard to breathe.'

'Oh, Ethan, I had no idea, I'm so sorry. I had no idea.' Fenisha choked out, her voice lower than usual.

'Let me finish'. All she could do was nod; she was just stunned. She had never been good at this kind of thing, never quite sure what to say. 'So, usually, the symptoms start between the ages of 30 and 50, so it could start next week, or I could have years. Once the symptoms start, I probably have 10-15 years to live. I'll be really lucky to make it to 65. The thing about Huntington's, is that it's always humiliating drawn out. And it is painful for any loved ones. Trust me, I know, I watched my mum die of it. I... I care too much about you to let you watch that.'

'Don't you think I get some kind of say in that?' she interjected.

'Don't worry, you'll hate me in two minutes anyway.'