"Come on, boys. Dinner's on the table!" their father called outside, where twelve year old Ethan had his head stuck in a book and fourteen year old Caleb was kicking a ball around the very small garden.

He'd never liked their garden, football practise was hard when your little brother was at one end and bushes were at the other. You'd either hit Ethan or lose the ball... or if you decided to play the other way around, the ball would go into the neighbour's gardens. It was scary asking for the ball back when on one side lived a wrestler who never wore shirts, and on the other side lived an 80-year-old who wasn't scared of using household objects as weapons for "possible intruders that might try and steal things, my boy" - as she put it.

"Come on, Ethan!" Caleb said excitedly, knowing their mother was making her homemade anchovy pizza as a reward for Celeb getting an A in Sports and an A in Health.

Caleb ran into the house (not bothering to wipe his shoes or bring the ball in the house), and darted into the kitchen, seating himself at the table and smelling his favourite food.

"Caleb Hardy!" his father shouted, making him jump violently at the booming voice, "what do you think you are doing?"

Caleb shrugged sheepishly, not sure what he did wrong this time.

"What have I always taught you to do before eating? And coming in from the garden?" Caleb said nothing except holding his head down. "Well?"

"Wash my hands and wipe my feet," he muttered, feeling his cheeks go pink with shame. "Sorry, Dad," he said, getting up slowly and making his way to the sink, not forgetting to wipe his feet on the way.

"You should be sorry! It's stupid boys like you who end up in A and E -"

"- Michael!" his mother interrupted, placing down the last plate. "Give him a break. He's just looking forward to tea - and who can blame him when it's his mother's speciality?" She winked at Caleb and smiled fondly, and he smiled back - grateful his mother butted in when she did.

"A good clip around the ear is what he needs. Teach him some discipline."

"Michael, do not talk like that in my house," she scalded. "Our boy needs love and care, not a beating." She combed her fingers through Caleb's hair once, confirming to Caleb that she was definitely his favourite parent.

His father scowled at him, before looking out towards the garden. "Ethan! Come on, son. Grub's up!" his father called in a much more endearing tone than he ever used for Caleb. It wasn't fair - why did their father value one son over the other?

"See, Caleb. That's what you should be doing," his father said once they were all seated and helping themselves to the food. "Reading, boy," he elaborated when Caleb cast him a confused look. "Reading stimulates the mind, opens you up to new ideas. I don't see how kicking a ball around a muddy field will benefit you in life."

"He did get an A in Sports and Health," their mother said, jumping in to defend her son. "And I received a letter from Mr Green asking for Caleb to apply for the school team."

Caleb's face lit up. "Really, mum?" he asked excitedly, not having been told this himself. She nodded. "Oh, wow! I can try out! This is great, isn't it, Dad?" he questioned, trying to gain his father's praise which was always harder when your little brother was the four-eyed science geek, Ethan.

Instead of answering, his father completely ignored him: instead focusing his attention on Ethan again. "Ethan, stop reading. You don't want to get food on your book." Caleb watched as he reluctantly put the book aside. "What was it, anyway?"

"'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'. Mrs Lemon said that the next book in the series will come out soon, so I need to finish this one."

Caleb snorted. "That's a kid's book. I've even heard Dad say that when you weren't here."

His father looked appalled that Caleb had heard that being said and Caleb smirked; thinking he'd got one over on him.

"Actually, I quite enjoy those books, Caleb."

Caleb huffed. Even though he had heard his father express extreme dislike for the books, it seemed he would do anything to disagree with him, even blatantly lie.

"See!" Ethan said triumphantly.

A couple of seconds later, after Caleb had successfully (and much to the disgust of his father) put half a slice of pizza in his mouth whole, the talking started again. "How was school today, Ethan?" his mother asked as Ethan too put some pizza in his mouth.

"I got a B in a Biology spot test," he said proudly, though it came out slightly muffled as he tried to keep the pizza in his mouth. If that was Caleb, his father would shout at him to not talk with food in his mouth. Of course, this was perfect little Ethan who couldn't do anything wrong just because he wanted to be a doctor like daddy dearest.

"That's my boy!" their father praised, clapping Ethan on the back.

It was like time slowed down. Caleb could only watch in undiluted horror as Ethan's face went a brilliant shade of red and his breathing hitched. In an instant, his mother looked ready to cry and his father looked stricken with guilt.

Ethan began to cough harshly, and it sounded painful too. He was clutching his throat in a vice like grip while everyone sat frozen for a second, unsure of what to do when a member of their family was choking.

Then Ethan gave a few more violent coughs before a bit of pizza flew out of his mouth and landed on the plate. He was trembling and tears were streaming from his eyes; his face still red.

"Don't just sit there, woman! Call an ambulance!" their father commanded, finally kneeling down next to Ethan and stroking his back comfortingly.

Ethan burst into sobs, clutching onto his father's neck and holding on as if he was drowning. Caleb watched on. Their mother was on the phone, explaining the situation. Their father was comforting a distraught Ethan.

So Caleb decided to make his way up to his and Ethan's room. He wasn't needed and watching his little brother choke and be so upset, hurt - especially because he couldn't help.

He flopped down onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He could still hear Ethan's sobs and his father's comforting voice. Caleb couldn't help but wonder whether, if that had happened to him, their father would just let him be.

Caleb lay there for a few hours until he heard the sound of the door clicking shut, the distant voices of his mother and father, and then the sound of small feet padding up the stairs.

He straightened up on his bed as Ethan entered their room, looking drained, before lying on his own bed - not even bothering to take off his shoes.

"You okay?"

Ethan shrugged.

"Want to talk about it?"

At first, Caleb didn't think he'd get an answer, but then the small voice of Ethan spoke. "It was scary. I couldn't breathe... I thought I was going to die," he whispered.

"Oh, Ethan," Caleb sighed sympathetically. He cared for his little brother more than anyone knew, and just to hear those words broke his heart.

"I'm tired... goodnight," Ethan muttered, kicking off his shoes and rolling over, closing his eyes.

"Night," Caleb responded, watching as Ethan's breathing evened out in sleep. He knew it was early for sleep, but Ethan was so worn out - Caleb couldn't blame him.

He grabbed his own blanket and threw it over his brother, Ethan lying on top of his covers would only make him colder and disturbe his well-needed sleep.

As he watched Ethan sleep, he wondered how long it would take Ethan to get over this. He knew his brother, so he knew it wouldn't go away overnight.

Over the next two days, all Ethan would do was drink water. He refused to eat anything and even his father bribing him didn't work. All he would say was 'I can't'. There was no other explaination from him.

Three days later, Caleb and Ethan were sitting having brekfast. It was Monday morning and Ethan always had lunch in school. If he couldn't eat that...

"Come on, Ethan," Caleb persisted.

Ethan shook his head but didn't say anything.

"Okay, fine. You don't have to eat the banana, but what about the bread?"

"I can't."

"Please. For me?" he peraisted, moving the plate closer to Ethan and watching as Ethan delicately picked up the slice of bread. He looked at it, but didn't eat it. "Okay, eat half. You don't have to finish it."

Ethan looked at his brother cautiously, and after an encouraging nod, he started to bite the corner. After one tiny bite, he swallowed it and almost finished his full glass of water in one go.

Caleb sighed. "Come on, Ethan. We're going to be late to school."

Ethan looked at the bread again and took another small bite. Then another.

"Stop nibbling on the corner, and put it in your mouth properly, Ethan. You're not a child!" Cal said, getting annoyed at how ridiculous Ethan was being. Eating was such an easy task.

Ethan shot a glare towards his older brother but continued on with taking small bites, not phased by Caleb's complaining.

Caleb knew he'd have to think on his feet, a way that could get Ethan to eat properly. "If you don't start eating properly, I'm... I'm... I'm going to have to call you Nibbles - like a rabbit," he threatened, straightening up with confidence that his plan would work.

All Ethan did was groan and continue on with taking miniscule bites from the corner.

Caleb smiled. "You asked for it, Nibbles."

A/N: What happened to Ethan in this story may sound strange, but it is actually based on something that happened to me when I was about ten.

I was eating dinner when all-of-a-sudden, I started to choke on my food. After that, whenever I tried to eat (and it was incredibly scary to try), my throat would feel like it was closing up and I couldn't swallow. I was so scared of choking again that I was physically unable to eat. Luckily, after about a week of practically living off water and yogurt, I started to eat properly again.

I doubt I would ever be so scared of eating now if that happened again, but it gave my head a reasonable explanation for Ethan being called Nibbles!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I did get a bit carried away with Cal and his father's relationship at the start, but I couldn't help it!