A/N: Many thanks to the effervescent bromanceandships for help on the medical and being a beta. Without her infinite patience, this fic would be half as long and completely medically inaccurate. And to LadyRiesling, my grammar Queen, my friend forever, and probably the only other person on the planet who is going to get that M*A*S*H reference, for the beta.
You'll have to strain credulity a bit on the timeline. I'm well aware Med wasn't running when this ep of PD ran, but hey, its fan fiction.
**UPDATE*** After some research and discussions with some people regarding the age of the Halstead brothers, I have re-written this to make Will the older brother, as well as changed a few details at the end in preparation of a new turn the 2nd part of this took.
Payment In Full
A Chicago PD/Chicago Med Work by water4willows
There's a moment right after they die when everything goes still. Doctors don't have a name for it, but it's there all the same. It comes right after the last shock is administered or the final breath is taken, but before the nurses have time to silence the alarms. Sometimes the moment is expected, and other times it comes as such a shock, it's like a punch in the gut. No one ever explained to Will Halstead that moments like these would happen, and after years of practicing medicine, they still manage to take him by surprise when they do.
"Time of death," he says angrily, handling the paddles back to the nurse and stripping the blood -covered gloves from his hands, "…10:47am." Will turns on his heel and heads for the door, leaving before Natalie can say anything to him. He knows what comes next, because he's lived this moment before. She'll look up at him from over her mask, eyes heavy with pity and trying to convey that this is not his fault; that he did everything he could. But he has no time for thoughts like that. What good are they anyway? They won't help him and they certainly won't help the thirty-something mother lying dead on his exam table.
Will tugs the blood-spattered gown from his torso and slams it into the biohazard receptacle on his way out of the room. There are anxious family members waiting for him, but he doesn't head toward the waiting room, not right away. Instead, he pauses just outside the exam room door, thankful Maggie put them in one of the bays tucked farther back in the ER, and collapses against the plexiglass. All around him life goes on; machines wail and people yell. It's chaotic and loud and normal and yet all he wants to do is scream at it all, make someone understand that something monumental has happened. A light has gone out in the world and this moment should be acknowledged and respected. But death doesn't work that way. He doesn't work that way. Its rule number one. People die. And, as someone once observed, doctors can't change rule number one.
Will pushes away from the glass just as Natalie emerges, hoping she doesn't notice the way his eyes have misted over ever so slightly. He hasn't actually cried over a patient in years, but every once in a while he comes close. It's a symptom, he figures, of the frustration, and of allowing himself to get too close to the people he treats. It's gotten him into trouble in the past, probably will again, but sometimes he just needs to let himself feel.
"I'll go talk to them," Natalie offers, inclining her head ever so slightly towards the ER waiting room and the family waiting anxiously there for news.
"No, I'm ok," he replies, hoping his words sound a lot more convincing than they feel.
"Together, then?"
He hates to admit it, but it's kind of what he wants. Normally he's stronger than this, but after today, he's not about to turn down her offer, nor scoff at one more chance to be near her. Natalie is like oxygen to him anymore and he's quickly coming to the realization that he can't live without her. It's messy and it complicates things (for the both of them), but he's pretty sure he's not alone in how he feels. So he nods.
She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, a knowing look on her face, and he resigns himself to the fact that this thing they have will need to remain hidden, at least for a little while longer. Natalie pulls him forward, and the spell is broken. They're a few yards away from the ER waiting room when Maggie steps into their path.
"Goodwin wants to see you in her office, Dr. Halstead," she announces formally, glancing up from her PDA. "Now."
Heat rises up into his face and the tips of his ears burn. What has he done now to warrant a summons to the hospital administrator's office? And in the middle of a shift, no less?
"Can't it wait?" He asks, voice going high with embarrassment. "My patient just died. I've got next of kin to notify." An ambulance pulls up into the bay as he says this, its red and blue lights reflecting off the tiled walls of the vestibule. "And it looks like you might need my help, anyway."
"You need to go up now, Dr. Halstead," the head nurse says again, so out of character, it startles him. Outside in the bay the ambulance doors open and then slam shut, the shouts of the paramedics audible even inside. Any moment now their newest trauma will be rushed in.
"Our patient just died, Maggie!" Natalie steps in, coming to his rescue. "I think Goodwin can..." But her words are cut off as the paramedics from the newly arrived ambulance burst through the doors. Before Will can even catch a glimpse of the person they are transporting, Maggie is pulling him away by the elbow. Her grip is so strong, he nearly stumbles.
"What the hell, Maggie!" He pulls the offended elbow from her grip.
"Goodwin was very specific, Will. This can't wait!" Maggie explains loudly, talking over the paramedics who are giving a rundown of their patient's vitals to Ethan Choi. "Choi's got this. I'm supposed to send you up there, no matter what you're doing." She levels him with a serious gaze. The one she only seems to reserve for special occasions.
By this time Natalie has moved off to start helping as the patient is wheeled off toward Baghdad, poor bastard. Will is just about to give in and let Maggie drag him away, when a new figure stumbles into the ER and catches his eye. He looks over and locks gazes with someone he knows.
"Erin?" he says, taking in the blood-spattered clothing and disheveled-looking appearance of his brother's partner. He takes a step towards her, but Maggie blocks his way.
"Will, wait…" she starts, but he ignores her, brushing past and approaching Erin tentatively. There's a look in her eyes that's not quite right. It's the same haunted look he's seen in the eyes of countless patients, and it instantly puts him on edge.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she replies curtly, her normally raspy voice even more gravelly than usual. There are streaks of dried blood visible just under her chin. "Where's Jay?"
"Jay?" He asks stupidly. But before she can answer, Alvin Olinsky comes charging in through the ER doors. Cap slightly askew, he skids to a halt when he catches sight of Will and Erin. But it's not until the detective shoots Maggie a worried glance and the head nurse shrugs that Will finally understands what is happening.
"No." He says flatly, looking back and forth between the two. Something icy tingles along his nerve endings, deadening them until all that's left is a ringing in his ears.
"No."
Will takes off down the hall without warning, three voices all calling after him and warning him to stop, but he barely registers them. His heart is pounding away too loudly in his chest, fear wrapping around his airway and making it impossible to breathe.
It can't be true, it just can't. He just saw his brother yesterday at Molly's where they shared a couple of beers with a few of the guys from the firehouse and watched the Hawks game. They were literally together a mere few hours ago, so this just can't be true.
Will collides bodily with one of the paramedics just as he reaches Jay's room. It's Chout, and the sandy-haired driver of Ambulance 83 grabs Will by the arms and doesn't let him go any further.
"Dr. Halstead, wait a second."
Will fights against the hands holding him back. "Let me go! I have to see! Is it him?" The paramedic is surprisingly strong for someone so diminutive, and despite Will's herculean efforts, Chout manages to keep him out in the hall and away from even seeing into Baghdad. Maggie, Erin and Olinsky arrive a fraction of a second later.
"Is it him?" He demands again, this time rounding on Erin and ignoring the shell-shocked look on her face. "Was that my brother?" She can't even answer him. She just stands there in the hall, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. "Tell me!" He yells at her this time and she flinches back as if struck. What is with everyone today?
Chout has let him go, so Will uses the momentary unease of the group and his own temporary freedom to surge forward. This time it's Olinsky who manages to get in his way, but not before he sees. Not before he finally gets a good look into Baghdad and at what's going on inside there without him.
Will stands rooted in place, the world dismantling itself right before his eyes as his brain struggles to comprehend what it's seeing.
It's Jay. There's no doubt about it. It really is his brother lying there amidst the chaos and the alarms. Even over the oxygen mask covering most of the lower half of his face and the crisscrossing wires and the hands of the nurses working over him furiously, Will can see that it's him.
"What the fuck did you do to him!?" he demands.
"Dr. Halstead!" Maggie admonishes the curse. He takes no notice and turns on Erin as best he can with Olinsky still holding onto him.
"Tell me what happened." People are looking, but he doesn't care. He glares over at Erin, waiting for an explanation from his brother's partner. "Now!"
"We were workin' a case," Olinsky answers instead when Erin, who has covered her face with her hands, can't do it. They're still stained red with what Will is pretty sure is Jay's blood. "He got into it with some thugs. He's gonna be fine, Doc." Olinsky seems to regret his words almost immediately. It's clear from the noises emanating from the room beyond that his brother is not, in fact, 'fine'.
"No, I want to hear it from her," Will shoots back angrily, pointing as best he can towards Erin. Olinsky still has his arms pinned against his sides. "You're his partner. Explain to me how in the hell this happened."
Erin looks on the verge of tears, but she squares her shoulders and looks over at him defiantly. While Jay hasn't talked to him much about what's been going on between them these past few months, Will knows something's not right between the partners. If it has anything to do with why his brother is currently in the ER, fighting for his life, he's going to murder someone.
"I was talking to him in the back of the ambulance. He seemed perfectly fine. They were just about to release him when he started saying it was hard for him to breathe. I don't know what happened after that. He crashed, or whatever it is they call it, and the paramedics brought him here. It happened so fast, Will. I really don't know what happened."
I really don't know what happened. Will eyes his brother's partner critically, trying to both decide if he believes her and attempting to glean what might be wrong with Jay from what she's just told him.
"You said he got into it with some thugs. What did they do to him exactly?"
Erin looks at the floor, toeing the edge of a tile with her boot like some child caught in a lie. For a moment, he's afraid she won't answer him. Anger, hot and molten, rises up in the back of his throat. "I don't have time for this. He," Will all but yells, nodding towards the exam room and the people yelling there in, "doesn't have time for this!"
"He got taken, alright?" She finally admits, arms flopping to her sides in visible defeat and eyes misting over anew as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is that what you want to hear? That they beat the shit out of him, hung him up from the ceiling by his wrists and tortured him with cattle prods right in front of us? That when I found him, he couldn't even stand by himself yet was still able to beat the piss out of the guys who were trying to kill me? Is that the crap you want to hear, Halstead?"
Will blanches as Erin's words sink in and Olinsky has the good sense to let him go. "And you two didn't think my brother being kidnapped was something I ought to know about?"
"Come on, man," Alvin interjects. "You know how this goes. We can't always come and find you every time a case goes sideways."
Will stares at Olinsky in disbelief. His brother has just been kidnapped, brutally beaten and tortured, and here were the elite members of the Chicago PD Intelligence unit basically telling him it was just a normal day at the office.
Will closes his eyes and scrubs his palms over his eyes with a mirthless laugh. "You better start talking. And tell me everything. I need to know exactly what they did to him. And don't leave anything out," he adds, glaring at Erin and Alvin in turn. "I'm dead serious; my brother's life may depend on it."
It's Erin who tells the story, surprisingly, and when she's done Will is practically shaking with rage. It's a rage not only for the people who hurt his brother, but also for the ones who were supposed to have his back, keep him safe. Heck, weren't these the same teammates who were always going on about how much of a family they were? Or was that just Will projecting what he thought his brother's job should be like in order to sleep at night? Whatever it was, someone dropped the ball today and come hell or high water, Will is going to find someone to blame.
Behind them, the frenetic movement in the exam room hitches up a notch and everyone turns just in time to watch Choi and the nurses roll Jay over on his side so that Ethan can listen to his lungs.
"Decreased breath sounds on the left side," he calls out over the din of the alarms.
Even from the hall Will can see that his brother is in trouble. His bruised eyes are screwed shut against the pain and he's panting heavily under the oxygen mask. Will takes a step forward, but Maggie's hand on his arm stops him.
"Let them work. You'll just be in the way." Will meets her eyes, ready to fight, but fear is making him stupid. All he can do is stand there under its influence with hands balled into fists at his sides as he watches other people treat his brother. As a doctor, he's trained to handle high stress situations like these. When things are at their worst, that's when he shines. But this is different. This is Jay, and there are no rules when it comes to your own flesh and blood.
"Possible pneumothorax. Let's get a chest x-ray. Where's that IV?"
Will looks back over at his brother. All the color has drained from Jay's face and he lets out a pitiful moan when the nurses roll him back over. The sound slices straight through Will's heart and tears at the edges of the gaping hole where it should have been.
"One IV access with Saline solution perfusing, Dr. Choi." A nurse answers.
Will moves in closer to the open doorway of the exam room and focuses in on his brother's face, as if sheer force of will alone might convince the elder Halstead to look over at him and proclaim that he's perfectly fine, convince Will this is all just some kind of joke. Jay does manage to crack his eyelids open again and turn his head toward Will, but his gaze is not filled with the assurance Will is looking for. It's filled with fear.
"Will?" That's all it takes, one muffled word. A word so drenched in agony it makes Will's teeth ache.
"I'm here," he calls, and this time, there's no one there to hold Will back. He pushes his way into the room, donning a pair of gloves and grabbing for the hand Jay extends and holding on to it for dear life, not caring at all how it looks or who he bowls over in the process to get at him.
"I'm here. I've got you. I've got you, brother. You're okay." He's not entirely sure who he's trying to convince, because Jay is clearly anything but okay. Every breath is a struggle. Beneath the oxygen mask, his respirations are short and shallow and his green eyes are bright with panic. He looks absolutely terrified.
"Halstead," Choi says with a warning in his voice as Will pulls his stethoscope from around his neck and starts his own cursory exam. There's no version of this horror story where Ethan Choi lets him treat his brother, but there's also no way in hell that Will is going to let anyone else keep him away from Jay. So he sets his jaw and meets his colleague's disapproving gaze, putting everything he can't say out loud (least Jay hear it and become even more agitated than he already is) behind his eyes. Choi purses his lips, but nods all the same.
"You stay out of my way."
"I will."
"Will, w-what's hap-happening?" Jay's weak voice barely registers over the commotion in the room, but Will doesn't miss it.
"You're at Med," he explains, trying to recover himself a bit. He searches for a bit of Jay's face he can touch that doesn't sport some bruise or laceration, but can't find anything. So he settles on cradling Jay's clammy hand against his chest, taking comfort in how solid it feels. "Do you remember how you got here?"
Jay thinks about this for a minute, then shakes his head, wincing a bit as he does so. "H-hurts to breathe. Feels like a friggin' el-elephant's s-sitting on my c-chest." Jay paws at his throat with his free hand, like the movement will somehow clear his airway. The effort strains the IV line and Will eases the arm back down onto the bed.
"I know, buddy, I know," he says. "And we're going to figure that out. Just take it easy and focus on your breathing, okay? Listen to your big brother for once." Stupid as it may seem, he's trying to fall into that easy brotherly banter he and Jay have always shared. It feels hollow and unhelpful, but it's all he's got at the moment. "Everything's going to be okay."
"Halstead, you gotta get out of the way." Choi and the nurses are ready for the x-rays, but Will's not about to let them push him out, not completely at least. He does move, as instructed, but it's only to round the head of Jay's bed and take up position on the other side of him. The nurses are going to have to sit Jay up to get the x-ray tray under his back and Will can at least help with that.
Choi eyes him warily for a moment, like Will is pushing him just a little farther than he's willing to go past the "we don't treat family" line, but the imploring look Will shoots him and the addition of yet another alarm to the cacophony of sound in the room, seems to change his mind yet again. It's a strategy game at this point. Chalk another victory up to the Halstead brothers.
"Okay, on three," Choi says and Will and a nurse help Jay to sit up as carefully as they can, but the movement still aggravates Jay's injuries. He cries out, turning his head and burying his face in Will's scrubs.
"You got this, Jay. Come on, it's almost over," Will soothes, grabbing the back of his brother's neck and squeezing. The tray is placed quickly and Will and the nurse lower a quaking Jay back onto the bed. His face is flushed from the strain and he's trying to curl himself up into the fetal position. The sight of it nearly breaks Will in two.
"Why haven't you given him something yet?" He demands of Choi. The man looks up from the x-ray readout sternly.
"Because he got something in the field. And because I like to know what I'm dealing with before I give my patients any medications that could potentially harm them," he snaps, but a beat later his face softens minutely. "Is there anything I should know about? Allergies? Medical conditions?"
Will shakes his head automatically. His younger brother has always been healthy, a product, like Will, of that world famous Halstead constitution. The one that comes with unusually long life, and a proclivity for sarcasm and stubbornness.
"5 mg of morphine then, please," Choi orders, and Will watches as the medicine disappears into the port of his brother's IV. Up until this point Jay has been restless, clearly in an enormous amount of pain, and Will finds himself willing the meds to work faster. It's unnerving to see Jay in so much distress.
"Ok, tension pneumothorax," Choi announces to the room a moment later, looking up from the x-rays with a frown. "Let's prep for a chest tube. And get another IV access going just in case.
"What are his vitals?" Choi and Will both ask at the same time. Halstead ducks his head in apology but not before Choi scowls over at him. Will's pushing his luck and both men know it.
"BP's 126/82," a nurse answers them both. "Sats are at 93% with oxygen. Temp, 99.4. Pulse 98. Respirations at 32." . Choi nods at this. He indicates for Will to switch places with him. After they do, Will wraps a protective hand around Jay's wrist, letting the tips of his fingers rest against his brother's pulse point. Jay is panting laboriously beneath his oxygen mask again, brow dampened with sweat and forehead crinkled under the strain of the collapsed lung.
"Ch-hest still hurts." Piercing green eyes, still very bright with panic, blink up at him.
"I know. I know it does, Jay. Just hang on. Meds will kick in soon," he promises. He's not sure when he dropped the MD in his title for a spot on the cheer team, but hey, whatever works.
Choi is prepping the area of Jay's torso that will sport the chest tube and while he does, Will finally allows himself to take in the full extent of his brother's injuries.
The bruises from where he was beaten are livid against Jay's pale skin. They're like an atlas, a brutal roadmap to each and every unapologetic blow his brother was subjected to at the hands of his tormentors. There are lacerations and shallow cuts covering most of his torso and the sight of it all and the memory of Erin's words send shivers down Will's spine and sets the anger in his heart to simmering all over again. When he can't bear to look anymore, he focuses instead on the monitors above Jay's bed.
"Sats are down to 89%," he warns his colleague.
"I'm aware of that, Doctor," Choi replies with no real anger behind the words, just mild irritation.
When Choi is ready to place the tube, he meets Will's eyes. The morphine hasn't had much time to take effect, but Choi has numbed the area with lidocaine. Still, placing a chest tube is no small feat. There's just no telling how Jay will react. Will repositions himself at his brother's side and presses a reassuring hand against his forehead. "You got this."
As soon as the steel blade of the scalpel slides across his skin, drawing a thin line of blood that spills over and cascades down his side and Choi starts pushing the tube in, Jay arcs his back against the intrusion and cries out pitifully. Will does his best to anchor him, but it's hard.
"It's almost over. Just breathe, Jay. You can do this."
Tears leak from the sides of his brother's eyes and he clamps his mouth shut as if trying not to make any more noise. Will almost wants to tell him to go for it, that nobody here will care or judge him for it, but he can't seem to make his voice work anymore. All he can do is watch on helplessly as Choi roughly yet expertly continues to shove the tube in. Jay huffs against his oxygen mask and Will squeezes his brother's hand mercilessly. But it's not enough. It's never enough. He's a doctor for heaven's sake. He's supposed to be good at things like this.
When it's all finally over, and Choi steps back with blood covered hands, it's like someone has flipped a switch. Jay's stuttering breaths slowly ease, coming in longer and longer draws as his lungs finally remember how to work again and he's able to pull in a proper amount of oxygen. With each unencumbered breath he manages, the tension in Will's body seems to dissipate too and he finds himself matching his own breathing to that of his brother's. Jay, finally relieved of the pressure on his chest, sags back against his pillows looking depleted and gray, but still very much alive. He even manages to crack his eyes open again and turn his head back towards Will.
"Told ya I'd take care of you," Will says from behind the fingers he has steepled against his lips. Jay's eyelids are heavy with exhaustion and the effects of the pain meds, but they're still the best thing Will's ever seen.
"Pretty sure… you had nothing to do with it," Jay replies a little breathlessly but with a slight smile. His voice sounds stronger already.
With Jay's breathing markedly improved, Choi lets Will switch out the oxygen mask for a nasal cannula. His brother makes a face at it at first, but they both know it's better than the alternative. After a moment's pause, Jay begrudgingly allows Will to settle the thing under his nose. The bruising around Jay's face looks painful and things are beginning to swell, so Will's mindful of the livid, purple splotches as he adjusts the cannula so it sits flush against Jay's skin. That done, he makes one last adjustment the bed so his brother's head is elevated and then plops down onto the stool one of the nurses rolls over for him as they wrestle him into a gown.
Crisis averted for the time being, Will pats Jay's gowned shoulder. "You doing okay?"
The color has yet to return to his cheeks and Jay looks paler than Will's ever seen him, but he manages a nod.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Your lung collapsed, that's what happened."
Around them the delicate dance of the ER continues; nurses taking vitals and adjusting IVs and Choi and Natalie conversing quietly in one corner. He thinks maybe he should go over there to see what they're talking about, but can't bring himself to leave his brother's side again. Besides, he still needs to be careful not to give anyone a reason to kick him out.
"Am I okay?"
Will snaps his attention back to his brother. "Of course you're okay," he says automatically, falling into brother mode instead of maintaining the current Dr. Halstead holding pattern. "We've got you stabilized," he course corrects, "but the IVs and the chest tubes are gonna have to stay in for a while."
"So I can't go home?"
Will lets all his air out through his nose and shakes his head at his younger brother's audacity. "No, Jay, you can't go home. You've got to rest. They just shoved a tube into your chest not five minutes ago! Not to mention the fact you just got the crap kicked out of you..."
"So you heard about that..." Jay glances away, worrying at the tape securing the IVs to his arm with a fingernail and inspecting the pattern on his hospital gown, anything to avoid Will's disappointed frown.
"Yeah, I heard about that. Your partner told me everything." He doesn't even bother to hide the irritation in his voice as he mentions Erin.
Jay grimaces. "She talked to you then?" His breath is still hitching a bit, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was before. Will glances at the monitors, checks the pulse ox. Everything still seems to be within acceptable ranges.
"She brought you in and she was covered in blood. I pretty much made her talk to me."
Jay shifts on the bed, draping a hand over his midsection. "Bet that…" he pauses to pull in a lungful of air, "was a fun conversation."
"You have no idea," Will snorts, not missing it when Jay winces and shifts restlessly beneath the sheets. "You okay?"
"Yeah," his brother replies. "Where's Erin?"
"The waiting room, I think," Will answers, actually trying to mask his distaste a little this time. He knows it's not fair. He actually likes Erin, but the events of the day have skewed his perspective. Right now, she is the last person in the world he wants to think about or discuss.
"You gotta be more careful, Jay." Will realizes how silly that sounds - a doctor telling his cop older brother to be careful, but he just doesn't care. The enormity of what has happened today, the fact that Jay could very easily have died in the back of that ambulance, is finally catching up to him now that his brother is relatively stable and seemingly out of the woods. It's nudging at him persistently, demanding to be addressed, and he's not sure he can ignore it any longer. Jay seems to sense it, too and looks uncomfortable. Beneath the bruises and the blood, his green eyes are apprehensive. "We could have lost you." Will finally admits. I could have lost you, is what he really wants to say, but there are people around and the room has gotten quiet again and Jay wouldn't tolerate a scene like this one is turning out to be under the best of circumstances.
"Yeah..." another breath and another wince, "but you didn't."
"Thanks to those paramedics who brought you in."
Jay shrugs and looks away. Exhaustion is creeping up on him, Will can see it clearly now. He's kind of amazed Jay's made it this far without passing out on them to begin with. "I bet you didn't even want them to check you out, did you? Stupid pain in the ass." Jay laughs a little at that and closes his eyes against something Will can only guess at.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks for what he's pretty sure will not be the last time.
Jay seems to contemplate this question for a minute which sets Will on edge. "I'm just… I don't…" He shifts positions on the bed again, almost as if in agitation.
Will touches the side of his arm. "What's going on? Talk to me, bro."
"It's nothing," Jay replies unconvincingly. Will glances back over at the monitors. Jay's pulse is a little elevated, but other than that, everything else still seems fine. Will's about to let it go when he notices a thin sheen of sweat has broken out across his brother's skin.
"Jay?"
"I think I'm gonna be sick." Jay tries to lean forward but he can't seem to manage it. Panic darkens his features as he looks over at Will with round, desperate eyes. "S-something's not right."
"Hey!" Will says, grabbing the nurse who's just walked past. "Get me a blood pressure." She nods, forgiving his rudeness, and hands him an emesis basin, just in case Jay decides to make good on his threat to be sick. The eldest Halstead screws his eyes shut and curls himself over the basin, but mercifully, nothing comes up. Will leans in close to brush the back of his hand against Jay's sweat dampened forehead. The skin there is cold and clammy.
"What's going on?" He's five seconds away from calling Choi back over.
"I don't know," Jay gasps, dropping the basin and fisting his hands in the sheets as pain assaults him.
"Blood pressure's down to 92/64," the nurse announces to the room and Will pushes up from his stool. "Pulse is 126!"
Something's not right, those readings are way off. Choi has noticed it too, and he heads back over, his stethoscope already in his ears. This time Will is pushed brusquely to one side.
"He's gonna crash!" He points out frantically, panic surging up from his gut and making him belligerent. "You missed something!"
Choi doesn't even acknowledge him. Just listens intently to Jay's chest, then leans over to shine a penlight in his eyes. "Detective Halstead, what's going on? Are you feeling any pain right now?"
"My stomach," Will hears Jay answer as he grabs for his belly again. Choi palpitates the area only slightly and Jay practically screams and the sound freezes the blood in Will's veins all over again.
What calm had been achieved in the exam room previously is shattered as Choi begins issuing orders and everyone picks up the pace. The head of Jay's bed is lowered so he's lying flat on his back and a nurse yanks the cannula off his face and replaces it with the oxygen mask again.
"Someone set up a Foley!"
Alarms wail, and when Choi finally lifts Jay's gown to check his abdomen, a huge purplish bruise is visible, taking up much of his brother's left upper quadrant.
"It wasn't that bad earlier," Will observes unhelpfully. Icy tendrils of fear cascade down Will's spine as all the possibilities of such a bruise rush through his mind.
"Choi…" Will doesn't know what to do with himself. He watches on stupidly with a hand covering his mouth as Choi grabs for the ultrasound machine and orders more IV fluids. Will has been working with Ethan for a long time. The man doesn't often let his emotions show, but even Will can tell that he's worried as he runs the wand over Jay's abdomen and clicks his tongue at what he sees.
Through all of this, Jay has gone still. He's panting against the mask in short, aborted gasps, but his eyes are glassy and he stares up at nothing. Will has to fight back against the urge to run over to the side of the bed and shake him, demand that he stay with it and stop scaring him.
"Choi, what do you see?" He asks instead. The ultrasound machine is pointed away from him, probably on purpose. He can't make out what it is that has Choi shaking his head and getting ready to issue more orders. "Choi!"
"No urine output," a nurse advises, holding up an empty bag as proof. Choi swears under his breath and looks over at Will.
"Pain in the left upper quadrant, signs of hypovolemic shock…" Will thinks out loud for the both of them. "It's his spleen. It's gotta be." Choi's brow furrows, but Will doesn't get to know what he's thinking, because a moment later the cardiac monitor above Jay's bed begins emitting its own alarms.
"Oh shit!" The curse slips past his lips unconsciously. All calm Will managed to hold on to evaporates in an instant. His panic is a wild animal, rearing up from his center, curling around his spine, and squeezing his heart in vice. This cannot be happening. "He's crashing!"
Will tries to push his way back into the fray, but there's already too many people in the room. Natalie, appearing out of nowhere, grabs him by the shoulders when he bumps into a nurse and the instruments she's carrying go flying across the floor.
"Enough, Will! Go wait out in the hall. We'll do everything we can for him, but you're not doing him any favors hanging around and getting in the way. We've got him, I promise."
Promise is a dangerous word, especially in their line of work. Any other time and he'd be admonishing her for using it, but right now it's actually something he probably needs to hear. He pulls it in, holds it close to his center, and tries to believe that it's true.
Natalie pushes him gently from the room, pulling the curtain across the doorway and blocking his view of his brother once he's clear. Will doesn't stop walking just because she's let go. He keeps stumbling backwards until his lower back comes in contact with something solid and unmovable. It's the counter of the nurse's station, and he slides down it as his legs give out beneath him. He lands hard on his ass on the floor. As the sounds of his colleagues trying to shock his brother back into a normal sinus rhythm reach his ears, he brings his knees up close to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It's something he hasn't done since he was a little boy, a coping mechanism for when he had to sit there and listen to his brother get a whipping from their father. He would cry back then and he cries now, not caring who sees, nor bothering to wipe away the hot tears as they track down his face and gather beneath his chin.
"Will, what happened?" Jay's room is right off the busiest section of the ER so it's no surprise that someone is over at his side before he even has time to break down properly. It's Maggie, and the head nurse falls to a knee beside him. "Is he…"
Will shakes his head, but can't bring himself to put into words what is obviously happening beyond the curtain separating him from Jay. All the sounds of the defibrillator and Maggie's unhelpful banalities mix together into an unintelligible mess inside his head and he covers his ears with his hands against it. Erin and Olinsky show up, but Will doesn't bother to get up from the floor. Maggie rises to talk to them as he focuses all his attention on Jay's room, begging with the universe to let the curtain move and for Natalie to emerge and tell him everything is going to be fine with his brother. She does come out several minutes later, but the look on her pretty face is anything but hopeful.
Will pulls himself up from the floor, ignoring Maggie and Erin and Olinsky as he approaches her.
"He's bleeding internally. One of the punches he took probably ruptured the spleen. We've got him stabilized for now, but he needs the OR. They're sending him up now." Natalie moves in closer and touches his arm. "He'll be in good hands, Will. They'll take good care of him, I promise." There's that word again.
Will throws an angry glance over his shoulder and directly at Erin before he re-enters Jay's room. He has hate in his heart at the moment, but that's going to have to wait. He maneuvers out of the way as an orderly barrels past, getting ready to move Jay up to surgery but makes it to the side of his brother's bed. Jay has been intubated, pale blue ventilator tubing disappearing between slack, colorless lips. Everything goes still for immeasurable moments.
"He needs to go up now, Will," Choi says quietly from his elbow, but Will just holds up a hand. "Alright," Ethan acquiesces. "You've got about 30 seconds."
That's all he's going to need.
Will leans in close to his brother's head, lets his eyes roam over Jay's features. They're bruised and puffy, but they're still his; his brother is still there beneath all of it. His eyes may be closed, but that's Jay.
Will rests his forehead at Jay's temple, right near his ear.
"You keep fighting. I don't care what you have to do, but you stay alive and you come back to us. Don't you dare leave me here all alone with Dad." One solitary tear finds its way down from his eyes and drips from the end of his nose, but he somehow manages to hold all the rest of them at bay. "I love you, little brother."
When Jay is finally wheeled from the room and on his way to the elevators, everyone crowds in around Will to watch. He can do little else but stand there, surrounded in most part by the people he blames for what's happened. Erin has lost her battle with tears and is crying openly behind him, sobs echoing in the hall. Any other time and he'd be comforting her, but today he's just… well he's not quite sure what he is. Pissed? Lost? Frustrated? He has no real name for what burns there in his center right now, threatening to bring up whatever's left in his stomach from breakfast. He thought it was hate, thought it was worry, but now he can't name it.
Everyone is quiet as Jay disappears into the elevator. When he's gone, Will turns on Erin.
"This is your fault," he pushes out through gritted teeth. Erin frowns at him.
"Excuse me?"
"You did this to him."
"Will…" Natalie warns, but he brushes her off.
"You saw that, didn't you?" He snaps, glaring at them each one in turn as he points down the hall and in the direction of his brother. "You all saw that. My brother just crashed. He's on the way to the OR with a ruptured spleen. He's on a fucking vent , Erin! And it's all because you didn't protect him." Will crowds into her personal space, getting even angrier when she holds her ground and doesn't back down. "You're his partner! You're supposed to have his back!"
"I did have his back, Will!" Erin yells back. "Who do you think went in there and saved his ass, huh? Your brother knew exactly what he was signing up for. He…"
"Don't you dare!" He spits. "Don't you dare put this on him!" He surprises even himself by the force of his words. He's never talked to another human being like this before in his life. But panic does strange things to the mind when all hope seems lost. "I swear to god, Erin, if he dies…" but Will can't finish his sentence. He backs away, forms a fist, but instead of aiming it at Erin like everyone seems to think he will, judging by their horrified gasps, he pounds it into the column beside him. He's not stupid, he pulls the punch right at the last second, but his knuckles still smart."Will, enough!" Natalie scolds him. He takes off down the hall, putting as much distance between himself and the people he blames for all of this as he can. Natalie follows. Maggie stays behind to try and calm everyone else down.
"What in the hell was that?" She asks him as he places both hands on a counter and tries to control his breathing. He must not have been too successful at pulling his punch because his knuckles are angry red and a few of them are actively bleeding. Stupid .
Will can't answer Natalie. He's not really sure where that came from. This isn't the kind of person he is. But when it comes to the people he loves, when it comes to Jay, he's a rabid animal. He can't see straight. When it's Jay, there's no telling the lengths he'll go.
"Will you go with him?" He asks suddenly, surprising even himself.
"What?" Natalie asks, brow furrowed in confusion when he looks over at her.
"Goodwin's never going to let me into that OR, and you know it. So will you go? Keep an eye on him for me? Give me updates?"
"Will…"
"Please? Please, Natalie," he begs, pushing away from the counter and taking her hands in his. "I've never asked you for anything in my life. This is my brother. It's Jay! I won't be able to handle it without someone I know in there with him." He stares into her big, brown eyes, wanting so desperately in that moment to just grab her by the shoulders and kiss her. The force of the sudden feeling startles him and he releases her hands and takes a step back. If she's wise to what's just happened, she doesn't let it show.
"I've already got a few people coming in to cover your shifts," Maggie interjects, walking up to them cautiously. There's a look in her eyes that suggests she's not at all happy about how he's handling things, but also that she's willing to do anything and everything she can to help Will get through his. He nods his thanks to her.
"Alright" Natalie acquiesces. "Go to the surgery waiting room and stay there. I'll make sure you get regular updates."
Natalie throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in close and Will allows himself to be held. He can feel new tears threatening, but he still won't let them fall. There will be plenty of time to break down later, and better places to do it in. Still, he wraps his arms around her middle and holds on tightly. She smells just like the hospital, but underneath it all there are hints of something that smells like flowers, and an awful lot like home. When she pushes away from him a moment later, he watches her go. Down the hall Erin and Olinsky have been joined by Voight, Ruzak and Atwater; the entire intelligence unit, save Antonio, suddenly now worried for their downed team member, all huddled together near the nurse's station. He wants to go yell at them, but the thought of Jay upstairs being prepped for surgery is enough to evaporate all those emotions and replace them with something akin to complete and utter exhaustion. He has no more energy for violence.
Will walks past the group of intelligence officers, giving them the cold shoulder when they try to talk to him. Maggie can deal with them for all he cares. He's finished. He's going to go up to the surgical waiting room and sit there in the uncomfortable chairs like any other terrified family member. He's not Will Halstead, MD today. That person he left in Baghdad. Today he's just Will, Jay Halstead's brother.
Will makes his way to the elevators, not sparing a backwards glance and tries to prepare himself for what he suspects will be the hardest few hours of his life.
tbc...