I wrote this a year and a half ago for Tessinciucy's birthday and never posted it. I wanted sick Will and she wanted hurt Rhodes. This is the result. I apologize for any grammatical errors etc...
If anyone has read my Musketeers story "O! I am Fortunes Fool!" you may notice a few similar scenes... I borrowed some of my own parts of this for that other story.
"Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty... I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well."
- Theodore Roosevelt
Will was sick but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone right now. He started off his day yesterday waking up with a slight sore throat and couldn't get back to sleep. He wasn't well rested for his night shift and now, at dawn the next day, he felt like crap. Dr Connor Rhodes, his replacement in the Emergency Department for the day, was late for his shift. All Will wanted to do was crawl home and burrow into the blankets on his comfortable bed and not come out for days. Or at least until his next shift.
Connor Rhodes was the newest doctor at Gaffney Medical Hospital. Will and Connor did not get along, not really anyways. Since day one they had butted heads against one another. Every time he thought he was making strides in their friendship, something would always happen to crumble it. This last time, it was inviting Connor out for drinks after he had lost a patient in surgery. He had hoped to help him like Connor had that one night he threatened his career over a dying woman, but, his friend? Not friend? Better stick with just colleague stood him up. Not that he cared because he didn't like Rhodes anyways, except he did. Will had so few friends and could use another one.
If Will compared them he'd say they were like oil and vinegar. Connor being the vinegar, of course, sour and unpleasant every time. At that thought, Will grinned, then coughed and cringed at the searing pain running down his throat.
"Fair enough, karma, I'll be nice," Will commented. He was in the break room laid out on the couch, one arm flung over his eyes because the light in the room was beginning to burn his retinas. His one leg was dangling off the side of the couch and he couldn't bear to move it, his limbs having reached the leaden and tingly stage of this flu.
"Who's karma and why do you need to be nice to her?" Connor asked. He walked into the room and opened his locker, taking off his jacket and pulling out various items he'd need for his shift.
Will mumbled his response, unable to focus on anything around him. He closed his eyes as his headache increased another notch on the pain scale. How much sicker was he going to get?
"Will?" Asked Connor, the man walked over to his colleague and knelt down beside him. He placed his hand against Will's forehead and hissed at the heat radiating off the man. "Crap, Will. Let me take your temperature. How long have you felt this way?"
Will mumbled again and Connor pulled out the electronic thermometer from the medical bag kept in the break room. He pressed it to Will's ear and waited for the beep. Connor took that moment to scan over his friend's body, concerned at the paleness of his already pale skin. The beep of the thermometer startled him and he glanced down at the screen frowning at the number. Will was running a dangerously high fever and Connor needed to get him into a room to run tests.
"Hey Will, buddy, can you stand if I help you? We've got to get you looked after." He tried to manoeuvre his colleague into a sitting position, but the man was the closest thing to being dead weight without actually being dead.
"I don't feel good…" Will said, curling into the couch as far as he could.
"Fair enough," Rhodes conceded. If was honest, he didn't relish the idea of moving Will anywhere without help. His health was declining too fast for his liking and Connor worried that it might cause more harm than good.
Instead, he stood up and raced to the sink in the corner of the room. He took a towel and wet it with the coldest water the tap could produce. Connor brought the towel over and wrapped it around Will's head, shushing him when he tried to remove the offending object.
"I'm going to call Maggie, Will. Leave that on your head- no! Don't, I said leave it."
Connor walked over to the room's phone and called down to the ER frustrated when the phones weren't picked up. After hanging up he glanced back towards Will and ran his hand down his face. This wasn't exactly how he thought his day was going to go. "Will, you still with me buddy?"
"Not... buddy..." Will responded. It wasn't spoken with clarity, mumbled at best and raspy from his congestion, but Connor understood what he meant quite clear. The two of them were as far removed from being friends as possible. Every time one of them took a step towards mending fences the other would ruin any progress. Connor didn't have many friends, and from the looks of it neither did Will and he could use an ally these days. Neither doctor was having a good run of it lately either. With Will and his lawsuit and now the battle with the recruiter, and Connor's own family and now this heart surgeon thing, things had just been rough.
"Were J?" Connor heard Will asked. The sick doctor flailed on the sofa for a moment before burrowing deeper into the cushions.
"Jay?" Connor asked. His friend had to be pretty sick if he was asking for his brother. Jay would come running if Will needed; he just knew that he hated pestering his brother. "I'll call him once we get you to a room. Listen, no one is picking up in emergency and I need to figure out what's going on with you."
Will only blinked at him, not comprehending what Connor was asking.
"I'm just going to look in your ears and throat ok?"
Connor continued his examination, checking his colleague's ears, throat, and nose. The man's throat was a lovely shade of red with white dots, meaning possible throat infection. The ears were all gunked up and infected. Connor suspected that Will's sinuses were not faring any better. He sighed and sat back after checking his lungs; they were congested too. Connor wondered how Will could be this sick and still manage to work a full shift without anyone noticing. It seemed he had every symptom possible for a common cold and influenza and every one of those symptoms had caused an infection.
Connor got up and called ER again, eliciting the same response as before. What was going on? He paused by the phone running through all possibilities before remembering that Will would likely have his tablet with him. He raced towards his friend's duffle bag and pulled the tablet out. It had only a few percentage of power left, but enough to shoot off a quick message to Maggie to get to the staff break room immediately with help.
A long time later, which in reality amounted to only a few minutes, the door opened behind them. Connor stood up smiling in relief, but not taking his eyes off Will, whose health was declining fast. "Thank god Maggie, Dr Halstead is running such a high fever I didn't feel comfortable leaving him-"
Whatever he was going to say next got cut off as a sharp metal object was held to his head right behind his ear. Connor stilled immediately not wanting to be skewered today and he raised his hands in front of his body and tried to turn to see his attacker. The attacker responded by wrapping his other arm around Connor's neck and pulled him in close to his chest, pinning him in place.
"I'm not Maggie; I don't care how sick that red-haired dude is. All I care about is getting the fuck out of this place and you doc, are my ticket out of here." The man behind Connor pressed the knife a little further into his skin and he felt a trickle of blood slide down the back of his neck.
"I am not your ticket anywhere," Connor responded. He tried to wiggle out of the position the man held him in, but the man moved the knife and shoved it roughly into Connor's side. He cried out as the blade plunged and then twisted into his side all the way to the hilt.
"What was that doc, hey?" The man tossed Connor to the ground and he landed with an audible thud, his head smacking the ground with enough force that he saw stars. The man laughed when he saw the dazed look Connor had in his eyes. He pressed his boot into his back, grinding his foot down hard enough to force an exhale of air from his lungs. "Hurts don't it? You're a doctor, so you know that the knife wound is just going to keep bleeding until you die."
"What…w-would you kn-know about s-side wounds," Connor stuttered. The man was pressing so hard on his back he was struggling to get enough air to breathe. The side of his body was screaming in pain and he could feel the blood leaking from the knife wound at an unnatural rate. If he didn't get help soon he was going to die.
The man chuckled, "Not that you need to know, but I don't plan on leaving this hospital standing once I am done anyways, so here goes. I was once a doctor sued for malpractice and had my license to practice medicine taken away. So I know a little bit about your wound and know that without help you won't live to see the sunrise. Also, your red-haired friend over there doesn't look so good himself, so I doubt he will be of any help. My wife is sick and we have no medical insurance and there is nothing anyone will do. I will make her last days peaceful and you will provide me with what I need."
"And if we don't?" Connor's heart dropped as soon as he heard Will speak. He had been hoping his colleague had passed out so that he wasn't brought into the situation. Connor was barely hanging on to consciousness and now he had another person to worry about. He closed his eyes in the defeat of the situation as the boot grinding into his back was removed.
"Oh! What's this now?" The man holding them captive asked. "Ginger speaks!"
Will rolled over on the couch, his head lolling in exhaustion at the mere feat of accomplishing his task. He glared at their captor but was sure his expression came across more like a grimace as his exhausted muscles protested the movements. Now that he faced the room, had a full view of Connor. His fellow doctor lay on his stomach on the floor, facing away from him, arms lying motionless above him. There was a small amount of blood near his head from when it collided with the floor. Blood was spilling from his side at an alarming rate, pooling around his body, even with the dagger still in his side.
"What, do you need?" Will finally asked their captor after assessing his friend. He recognized that he needed to get Connor out of here and seen to before the blood loss became too great. He tried to sit up and failed, flopping right back down on the couch. Their captor laughed and walked over to Will. He placed a hand into his hair and gripping tight he pulled the doctor into a sitting position. The quick change in equilibrium made the room sway and he had to breathe heavy to clear the spots that were dancing across his vision. He did not feel well, but Connor had to be feeling worse and with a wound like that, Will figured he could suck it up.
"What I need is one of you two to get me what I need, while I wait here with the other and I don't care who." The man growled. "And now that you are sitting up so nice ginger, ding ding ding you win!"
"I...Ignore...h...him," A weak voice whispered from the floor. "He's not even a proper doctor yet, he doesn't have access to the medicines you need. Just take me and I will get you what you need."
Will shook his head, as best as he could with the man's fingers tangled in his hair, but the grip just tightened more until he let out a small whimper. "He's lying."
"This is touching. Yet I am beyond caring at this point, I want the meds quick, and I am choosing the one that might not be able to stand, but won't get me sick with the plague." The man said. He tossed Will backwards onto the couch and eyed the room looking for something.
It took a few moments for Will to blink the confusion from his mind after being tossed back on the couch. The second his senses cleared he realized that if this guy got out Connor out of this room, nothing good was going to come of it. Thankfully when their captor pulled him up by the hair it had allowed him to regain some of his equilibrium. It was much easier, this time, to pull himself into a standing position and take the first step towards Connor, wobbly though it may be.
"Connor..." Will rasped. "Don't be a hero for me."
His friend was valiantly trying to pull himself up off the ground, using whatever strength his body had left. Will saw the minute tremors racing down Connor's limbs as he managed to get into a half sitting position and knelt down beside his friend.
"Th-the second I g-get him out of here, c-call Jay." Connor stuttered.
"Aww ain't this sweet." The man said, wheeling a chair over from the other side of the room. He pushed it up against Connor roughly eliciting a soft cry when one of the wheels hit the edge of the dagger. "Well get on with it ginger, get the doc here into the chair, your friend here doesn't have a whole lot of time."
Connor shook his head in frustration. The wheels were digging into his side and Will's grip on his wrists, in an attempt to pull him upwards, wasn't going to be enough to move him even an inch. He pushed Will away, surprised when the man flailed and fell backwards onto his rear end. It was a testament to how sick Will was when his face paled further and he began coughing, his chest rattling with each breath.
"I didn't think you'd get far ginger, no matter, I can still use this one." The man said. He grabbed Connor under the armpits roughly and hauled him into the waiting chair. The world around Connor darkened as searing pain raced through his side. He was so consumed by the pain throbbing up and down his side; he stopped paying attention to what their captor was doing. The man moved out from behind the wheelchair and over to Will who was still sitting on the ground.
"Just need to make sure you don't go all heroic here… hey, Ginger?"
Connor realized a split second too late what was going to happen, and Will didn't even see what was coming. The man's booted foot swung into Will's arm with a loud crack of something in his friend's body. The shout from Will, with all the congestion in his lungs, came out strained and rasping. The force of the blow knocked him over and he hit the floor with a thud.
"Will!" Connor shouted. There was no response, not even so much as a twitch from his friend on the ground. He turned to their captor who was grinning from ear to ear. "You've just made a grave mistake, his brother is a cop and you will pay for that." He growled.
"As long as I get what I want, I don't care what happens to anyone else." The man cried. He smacked the side of Connor's head, jostling his already semi-concussed brain. "My wife is going to get everything she needs and whether you two survive or not isn't my problem."
He grasped the handles of the wheelchair and left the room. He cowered behind Connor using him as a shield in case he was telling the truth about ginger's brother being a cop.