DISCLAIMER: I do not own Chicago Med or any of the characters. Alright, I know it's a short chapter, just getting all of y'all prepped for the next one haha :) I'll be posting the last chapter soon after this one so stay tuned and please review!
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Halstead practically flew out of his chair, speeding after April towards the elevators, everyone else in tow. Once on the correct floor, April and Halstead burst through the isolation sector's doors and raced into Rhodes' room. Inside, monitors were blaring, nurses were panicking, and Dr. Muller shouting at anyone in sight.
"April! Get the paddles, now!" Will was almost screaming. Once the defibrillator paddles were in his hand, he wrestled his way to Connor's bedside and shouted, "Charge to 300! Clear!"
"It''s no use, Dr. Halstead!" Dr. Muller angrily shouted, "He's been down for 4 minutes already."
Rhodes' body convulsed on the bed, out like a light, with tubes and wires scattered across his body and sheets. There was no response from the heart monitors as they continued to blare.
"Clear!," he yelled once more, not listening to Muller as the rest of the gang running into the room to the witness the horrific sight.
There was no movement on the bed, no sound in the room, only the heart monitor slowly becoming a flat line.
Maggie was trying to stop herself from shedding a few tears, Reese was white; all eyes stared at Will, who abandoned the paddles and rigorously started compressions. Muller expressionless by the door.
"One of eppy, April!" he shouted, eyes wild.
She looked down, a tear streaking down her face, and fiddled with her hands.
"Why is nobody doing anything?!" Halstead became angry, "Someone! We need to restart his heart!"
He looked around the room, still performing compressions, but no one would look him in the eye. All there thoughts were the same. Rhodes was probably not going to come back from this, any type of treatment was too far out to make a difference.
"Will," Natalie started, her voice extremely soft, "he's suffered enough," putting a hand on his shoulder.
"What do you mean?!" he lashed out, ripping away from her grasp, "Is no one going to help me?!"
Not one person met his gaze.
"Fine!" he shouted, ceasing compressions and rushing to the crash cart, grabbing a tube. He plunged the syringe into Rhodes' IV and resumed trying to restart Connor's heart.
"Frankly, Dr. Halstead," Dr. Muller started, voice eerily calm, "It seems as though your relationship with the patient has clouded your judgement, and has made you the wrong candidate to oversee this case. Therefore, Mrs. Goodwin, in everyone's best interest, I humbly expect you to take the proper course of action in removing Dr. Halstead from the case."
The room was dead silent. The limp body on the bed adding to the sorrow and misfortune of the scenario.
Dr. Muller said, albeit unsympathetically, "Time of death: 14:22."