DISCLAIMER: I do not own Chicago Med or any of the characters. Been so busy so sorry for the long waiting time for the next update. Here it is! Enjoy and please review!

"Super Surgeon's sleeping?" Maggie was shocked when Dr. Charles nonchalantly said Dr. Rhodes was asleep.

"I mean the guy hadn't slept in days," Dr. Charles would never say he was tired again, "Something had to trigger that kind of behavior though, Maggie."

They were huddled up against the nurses station, voices low, "I don't know, but for right now let's just let the poor guy get some rest."

Dr. Charles nodded his head, before Maggie was pulled back into the incoming trauma.

…

When her shift was over, Maggie, trying not to look suspicious, made her way over to Dr. Charles' office.

She reached his door, no questions asked, and as she was about to open it, she heard someone call her name.

"Maggie!"

She turned around, a big smile on her face to not make whoever called her the wiser. It was Will.

He's going to be tough to shake off, she thought.

"Yes Dr. Halstead?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Have you see Connor around? I just wanted to apologize for our little outburst earlier," he asked.

"No, no," she shrugged her shoulders, "haven't seen him around."

"Well if you do," he said, starting to walk down the corridor, "tell him Will's looking for him."

Maggie put on a big smile, "Will do."

She watched him as he walked away, about to open the door when Will turned around again and called, "What are you doing anyways?"

Ugh Will, just keep walking!

"Oh, Dr. Charles asked me to grab some files from his desk while he's with a patient," Maggie improvised.

Will had a look of confusion on his face, "He asked you? The head trauma nurse to go grab his papers?"

"Everyone's got to do their part," she faked being angry so he would leave, "Got a problem?"

"Not at all," Halstead put his hands up in false surrender.

"Hmph," she murmured to herself as he continued down the hall.

"Maggie!"

The small shriek from behind her made her yelp. She huffed in relief when she saw the smiling Dr. Charles staring down at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" she said.

"Well good thing we're in a hospital then," he remarked, "have you gone in yet?"

"I was just about to," she replied.

He motioned for her to open the door to the dark office, lights turned off for sleeping beauty.

Yet, Maggie and Dr. Charles' mouths dropped when the door swung wide, dumbfounded. All there was in the room were the psych's piles of papers, an empty couch, and some ruffled blankets on top. No Connor Rhodes to be found.

….

Rhodes yawned like a lion. Even though Dr. Charles' little trick helped him gain back about an hour or two of some well needed snoozing, how dreams were plagued with that of his mother. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just a constant reminder of her loss. The sedative, which should've lasted a few more hours, wore off in half the time.

Connor remembered waking up, at first unaware of where he was or what had happened. Then the past few days dawned on him and his exhaustion as well. No matter how tired he was though, he was instantly awake. And he would make sure Dr. Charles wouldn't pull anymore fast ones.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Rhodes," Connor introduced himself as he walked into the patient's room, "What seems to be the problem here?"

Connor didn't usually work in this wing of the hospital, but he had taken the clinic shift in an effort to stay hidden from Maggie.

The man on the bed, a regular looking guy, responded, "Hi, for the past few days I've been getting these really sharp headaches."

The patient's face was contorted in pain. Rhodes sat down on one of those rolling chairs and moved closer to the patient, asking some questions, "How would you describe the headaches?"

"Like someone's slicing my skull open right down the middle," the patient was rubbing his temples.

"Have you noticed a trend in when they occur? Maybe a certain time of the day or-"

"Oh definitely after the voices," he responded.

Rhodes was caught off guard, not expecting that, "I'm sorry sir, what did you say?"

"After the voices!" he was becoming agitated, rubbing his head harder and faster.

"Alright, alright, sir, I understand. Let me call someone really quick to come help with those headaches." Rhodes made his way to the phone to page the psych department.

He was delayed by commotion behind him. Suddenly there was a small, hostile shout, a flash of metal, and pain in his abdomen.

The patient had jumped off the table and was talking gibberish.

But Connor didn't care. All he was worried about was the sharp, glinting scrap metal piece protruding from his belly. Blood immediately began to pool around the wound and drip onto the floor.

The man kept whispering to himself, his headache, real or not, setting him off. He left the room without any evident knowledge that he just stabbed someone.

But Rhodes was well aware of the fact. His vision was quickly becoming woozy and his face pale. Waves of nausea hit him hard as his knees buckled and his already weak frame fell to the floor. Blood was spreading like a curtain around him, but no one was around. No one knew he was here. Dying. Bleeding out.

"H-help…" was the strained, low cry. There was no polo to his marco.

He looked down at his stomach, the flash of the metal piece blinding him. He was a doctor, but a panicked, attacked, hemorrhaging one. He knew that if he pulled the shard out it would only make the blood flow faster but the longer the metal stayed in place the higher the risk of infection, etc. That's if someone got to him.

Now Rhodes was in real danger of not being found in time. He called out for somebody, anybody, one more time before he was feeling faint. His breaths were coming out in small gasps and the last thing he did before the closed door shut him in the room for who knows how long was a risky move.

Rhodes knew that the weapon was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment, yet it was also the only thing that could help save his life. He was fading fast and Connor knew he had only seconds. Yanking out the metal piece, delirious with blood loss, he cried in pain and threw the shard with all his might at the window, cracking the glass.

His finally moments of consciousness was that of relief that his risky plan worked, yet now it all depended on someone noticing the crack in the room's window. Also, the only thing stabilizing him was now lodged in the window which meant that blood began to pour like rain. The gradual puddle of red around him grew fatter in seconds.

Yet, there was nothing more after that as Rhodes' head hit the floor and his eyes rolled in the back of his head.