Long AN warning: Y'all… this was supposed to be a speculative one-shot. But I'm so *REDACTED* as to the direction they took 7x10… I mean, no one mentioned Jay's head wound? He didn't even have a bandage around his head, no one said if he had a concussion, his speech and memory were in tact… do you remember how much blood pooled under his head after he was knocked out? And the amount of blood that stained like the entire right side of his shirt and neck? I know head wounds bleed a lot but...ugh, I digress. For now.

As always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and leaving kind words. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Here's what you need to know: This is a long chapter. I tried to write it so it would feel more like a Med episode (as if Jay were brought into the hospital during the Med hour), so I hope it reads as such. This takes place over the same time period as the previous chapter, just written from Will's POV. And because I was robbed of the brotherly moments I desperately desire, I didn't stop my muse as she went overboard with what should've happened. Warnings for panic attacks and varying descriptions of injuries (there's a lot of blood in this chapter), and medical inaccuracies.

Chapter 3 - Reality

Will Halstead's day changed dramatically over the course of thirty-five seconds.

It wasn't like in the movies, where the world stopped for a moment, where the main character put the pieces together as to what was happening, all before the world slowly gained speed again. No, for Will, it happened like any other day in the ED.

Except it wasn't like any other day in the ED.

He just finished a set of rounds and had walked into the locker room right as Maggie called for Marcel to take this next patient that was being rolled in. Were they being brought in a bit faster than normal? Maybe. Will couldn't tell for sure. They went straight to Baghdad, which was not surprising. Many of the calls that were wheeled through Med's door were critical, and required urgent care. What was slightly surprising were the red and blue lights that illuminated a stream of police officers as they huddled in the waiting room. How Maggie prevented a blonde woman in a green jacket from following the gurney.

Will had, unfortunately, seen his fair share of first responders come through those very doors. He often hoped that he'd never see his brother wheeled in, whether fighting the medics or lifeless, for as long as he lived and practiced medicine. If only he hoped harder.

The Halstead brothers lost their dad more than a year ago. Jay took a bullet not long after, but adamantly refused a trip to the hospital. That, Will could deal with. He stitched Jay's side, informed him how to care for and clean the wound as it healed. Explained to his brother how sore his chest would be where the other bullets struck his vest. That, Will could handle.

He couldn't handle losing his brother, too.

"Male, 35, GSW to his upper chest and blunt force trauma to the back of his head," Will heard a medic say as he left the locker room. He walked over to the computers to look over lab results for his next patient, when someone else added, "He's with Intelligence."

"Will,"

Will stopped what he was doing, turned and looked over his shoulder right as the gurney was pushed past him. He heard his name, saw Maggie speed-walking toward him, but he was quicker and in Baghdad before she could reach him, let alone stop him.

"Will, stop!"

"We gotta get this bleeding under control or he's not going to make it to the OR," Marcel said. "Grab suction, towels - grab everything. What're his stats?"

Someone read off a series of numbers. Will's stomach dropped a little.

"Looks like he's holding steady for now, but they've been dropping since the ride over,"

"Shit, his lung sounds are diminished. Bag him," said Marcel. "And send any and all of the O-negative blood up to the OR."

Will stepped into the fray, not sure what he'd find. He hoped it was Atwater, or Ruzek, hell even Voight. And he knew that was an awful thing to think. But he didn't want to consider any possibility that it could be Jay, even if the evidence was currently bleeding out in front of him.

Once he saw past the blood and injuries, Will recognize his brother and rushed forward when the image finally registered. "Jay-"

"Dr. Halstead, you need to leave. Right now," said Marcel, not even bothering to look up as he tried to stop the blood that continued to bubble from the hole in Jay's chest. Blood already stained the front of Marcel's scrubs, dripped onto the floor at his feet. "Out, Will!"

"No, I can help," Will continued to press in, tried to get a clear look at Jay. There was so much blood. Too much. And Jay was so pale. He watched as someone intubated his brother, as others packed his wounds. "I can help. He's my brother, I gotta-"

"That is exactly why you will not help," Marcel said, looking Will dead in his eyes for a split second. "Someone get Dr. Halstead out of here!"

"No, I need to be here-"

Two sets of hands grabbed him on either side, while a nurse gently pushed him back out of the room. Maggie then stepped in front of him for good measure, as Marcel and the team wheeled Jay to the waiting OR, while a trail of blood marked the path they took.

Will was on autopilot.

Two of Med's security guards and Maggie managed to keep Will in the ED for a couple of minutes. They hoped to give Marcel plenty of time to get Jay on the table, but also prevent Will from getting in the way. At least, that was the plan.

That plan wasn't going very well.

It only took two minutes, but Maggie knew that she couldn't force Will to stay in the ED, where she could keep an eye on him, while Jay's life hung by a thin thread. So, instead of trying, she tasked Grace, a tall, dark-skinned woman with a pixie cut, to follow Will wherever he went in the hospital. Within reason, Maggie told her.

Thirteen minutes after Jay was brought into Med, Will found himself standing outside the OR, peering through the glass. He desperately wanted to be in there, but he knew his state of mind would only put Jay's life in more danger. And he just couldn't do that to his brother.

He watched Marcel with dry, bloodshot eyes. Snot ran down his nose. He watched how the doctor worked on his brother, understood what was happening, but at the same time, he didn't understand. Will didn't know how long he stood there, looking in, before a nurse stepped out and gave him an update.

"They're still trying to get the bleeding under control," And just like that, the nurse was gone.

Will walked down to the ED waiting room, worked up the strength to inform Jay's team of the latest update. That's when he noticed the blonde woman in the green jacket, the one Maggie stopped earlier. She was Jay's partner, Hailey. This had to be hard for her, he thought. But it was hard for him, too.

And when Voight asked if Jay was going to be okay? That's when it struck Will as to how hard it actually was. For all of them. To varying degrees, they were all suffering through the waiting game. The unknown.

But some had it worse than others.

He didn't bother keeping track of time.

When he wasn't watching Jay's surgery, he was pacing the halls just outside the OR. He counted his steps, worked on slowing his heart rate and his breathing. Will tried to not think of Jay's situation as a doctor, tried to forget the stats he heard in Baghdad. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the sight of how much blood Jay lost.

So, Will tried to be a brother. A worried brother who just wanted the only family he had left to pull through. And he was failing at even that.

He managed, for a very short while. The dam broke when chaos ran through the OR. Will had been leaning against a wall opposite of the operating room when he saw the all too familiar sight. And when he walked up to the glass?

Will couldn't hear what was being said. Or maybe he could, but his brain wasn't actually registering what his eyes were seeing and translating that into sound. A series of flatlines. Doctors and nurses all but frantically rushing about the OR. Someone was doing chest compressions, another was preparing a syringe. And there was still a lot of blood on the floor. More than in the ED when Jay first arrived?

Will was seeing red, in more ways than one.

The next thing Will knew, he was sitting on the ground, one leg folded beneath him. His head was held in one hand, the other on the wall. He couldn't breathe, he gasped for air as his vision darkened. It was too much to face.

As he struggled to take his next breath, something was placed between his hands. Without opening his eyes, he gripped the item. When his brain finally caught up with his body, he placed the small sack over his mouth. Will breathed in, and out. In and out. He kept his eyes closed, but by now he could hear the sound of the flatlines blaring behind him, screaming at him through the walls. Or maybe it was his imagination, which made it seem worse.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

This worked for awhile. The alarms stopped, timed ticked on again. Will sat there on the ground, frozen in place, the paper sack tossed aside. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. He's pretty sure his leg fell asleep.

Breathe in.

He didn't know how long it had been since Jay flatlined. Will thought, just for a moment, that his brother was in the clear. Hope worked its way into Will's chest, as he heard Marcel say they were close to being done. Maybe things were looking up and Jay would be fine.

That's when the alarms started again. And Will forgot how to breathe.

It went on longer this time. Too long. And when the alarms finally stopped the second time, Will couldn't help but think the worst. It was too quiet. Hope was replaced with dread. So, he sat there, and waited. Waited for the news that would destroy his world.

"Dr. Halstead?"

Will looked up, but the image was blurry. He wiped his face, pulled himself to his feet. Dr. Marcel was standing across from him.

"He's alive,"

That's all Will needed to hear. He let out a shaky breath, gripped the wall in an effort to remain on his feet. He heard everything Marcel said about the complications that occurred during Jay's surgery, listened to his brother's prognosis and the next steps. He heard Marcel tell him that Jay was in a coma. And if Will were to be honest, he'd say it all went in one ear and out the other.

Jay was alive. That's all Will needed to know. That's the only thing that mattered.

Now he had to make sure it stayed that way.

It was selfish, he thought, as he walked the halls that led to the ICU. Being able to take advantage of his employment status, being able to go places where others, like police detectives, couldn't. Will felt bad, but only for a moment. He had to see Jay for himself, with his own eyes, before he gave Intelligence the latest update. They could wait a little while longer.

He had to know now.

When Will walked into Jay's room, everything felt… wrong. The machines hummed and beeped, the overall setup, being close to the nurses station, even the way the lights were dimmed just enough… but it was all correct. But the person lying in the bed made the whole scene tilt all the wrong ways.

It was enough to make his world stop. Again.

Funny how that happened sometimes.

Jay was pale, nearly the same color as the too white standard bedding he lay between. The cuts and bruises on his face stood out greatly, purple and black in color. The way his eye was still swollen shut, even after… hell, Will didn't even know how long it'd been. The cut on his lower lip and bruises around his wrists from where he was bound had been cleaned, the latter bandaged. The gunshot wound in Jay's chest was covered with thick bandages that Will could see, even with the hospital gown. Dots of blood worked their way through the thick gauze, stained the thin fabric. It was nearly time to changed his bandages. Then there was the fact that they had to intubate him. A machine pumped air into his injured lungs. Jay was hooked up to a lot of machines.

Could this get any worse?

Yes.

Unable to remain on his feet after looking at Jay's bandaged head, Will had to take a seat in a nearby chair. The sight of the pile of bandages nearly brought the doctors to his knees. Tears welled in his eyes and when Will didn't try to stop them, they rolled down his face and landed on the floor as he hung his head.

Breathe in.

Will tried not to think about the process, tried to not think about how they would have had to use a burr hole to release the pressure and bleeding in Jay's brain. Traumatic brain injuries were… tricky. Unpredictable. There was no telling if Jay would make a full recovery, or if he'd just be a shell of a man they all knew.

Breathe out.

Jay could still die.

Just breathe.

Marcel told Will that he wanted to place Jay in a coma as the detective's lungs and brain needed time to heal, but he ultimately decided to wait a few hours to see if Jay would make any progress before that happened. However, Jay slipped into a coma not long after the surgery due to the trauma his body endured.

Up until that moment, Will had only let a tear or two run down his cheeks, but nothing more. He wanted to, needed to, be strong. For himself. For Jay. For Intelligence. But even after all of that, he realized that he couldn't keep it up any longer.

And that was the moment Will allowed himself to cry harder.

Will took a few more minutes to compose himself before he headed back down to the waiting room. He wasn't sure what he'd say, or how he'd say it. Frankly, he doubted he could even get the words out before it all became too much and he broke down. So, he asked Marcel to help give the news to Hailey and once that was done, he'd figure out what the next step would be.

AN: Has anyone seen the sneak peeks for 7x11? I feel some sort of way about that so I guess now is a good time to mention that I am turning this into a full story. I'm stretching this out as long as I can, covering things that were skipped over, so I may deviate from the following episodes accordingly. But we'll jump off that bridge when we get there. With school starting back updates will be slow, but I have a good idea as to where I want to take this.