6am arrived with a cruel reminder of Will's vulnerability. He was awaken by the vibration of his phone indicating a text from his brother Jay. "Hey Will, I'm sorry I know you got home late last night but I need your help with the case ASAP. Can you swing by the precinct before your shift?"

Will sighs, or rather he attempts to, the sigh morphs into a violent coughing fit, leaving him panting of breath as he attempts to sit up in bed. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he did a quick inventory of himself, a pounding headache and a throat raw from coughing throughout the night. His body felt heavy and achy, every movement a painful reminder of the cold that had taken hold overnight. Despite the allure of his warm bed, duty called louder than his own discomfort.

As he groggily made his way to the bathroom, Will caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes, and his complexion was pallid beneath the sheen of sweat. He knew he should call in sick, take a day to rest and recover, he could even tell Jay that he wasn't feeling up to going down to the precinct, Jay would understand, but the nagging sense of responsibility weighed heavily on his mind.

Just as he was debating his options, his phone buzzed insistently on the bedside table. He groaned inwardly, already anticipating the message before he even glanced at the screen. Sure enough, it was a text from his brother Jay,

"Hey man, you awake? Sorry to rush you, but we need your input urgently so we can get this warrant signed."

The timing couldn't have been worse, and Will's heart sank. He knew he should prioritize his own health, but the thought of letting Jay down was almost unbearable. They had always been there for each other, through thick and thin, and Will couldn't bring himself to refuse.

With a resigned sigh, Will replied, "On my way."

He forced himself to dress in his work clothes, each movement sending waves of discomfort through his exhausted body. The drive to the precinct was a blur of congestion and headaches, but he pressed on, determined not to let his illness slow him down.

When he arrived at the precinct, Jay was waiting for him in the conference room, surrounded by a mountain of case files and half-empty coffee cups. He looked up as Will entered, his expression a mix of relief and concern.

"Thanks for coming, Will," Jay said, his voice quiet with gratitude.

Will managed a weak smile, his throat constricting with every word. "No problem, Jay. What do you need?"

Jay launched into a detailed explanation of what new information the team had gathered overnight and early that morning, his words rapid-fire and urgent. Will struggled to focus through the fog of his illness, his mind sluggish and uncooperative. But he pushed through, determined not to let Jay down.

The next 3 hours passed in a blur of interviews, evidence analysis, and strategic planning. Will's symptoms worsened with each passing moment, his body growing weaker with every step. But he gritted his teeth and soldiered on, fueled by sheer stubbornness and a deep-seated determination.

As 9.30am rolled around, Jay finally called a break, noticing Will's pale complexion and increasingly deepening frown, Jay hands him a cup of coffee. "You should head to Med if you want to make it in time for your shift, although you look like you could use a break. Maybe see if someone can cover for a couple hours while you catch a nap? We had you here pretty late last night" he said quietly, concern etching lines into his brow.

"I'm fine," Will replied automatically gulping down the scalding hot sewage Intelligence seemed to call coffee. He supposed he should be grateful his nose was so stuffed up he couldn't taste much of it anyway. "I've worked longer shifts on even less sleep during residency, I'll be ok" he assures Jay although the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

Jay studied him for a long moment, his gaze searching. "You don't have to prove anything, Will. We can handle it from here."

Will shook his head stubbornly, his pride warring with his body's desperate need for rest. "I'm going."

Jay opened his mouth to argue, but Will held up a hand to stop him. "I made a commitment to Med. I'm not backing out now."

Jay sighed, clearly torn between wanting to support his brother and knowing when to step back. In the end, he nodded reluctantly "Take care of yourself, Will."

Will nodded wearily, his throat increasingly sore, sneezes and coughs threatening to explode from his body every few minutes. He gathered his things and headed towards the exit, his steps faltering with each passing moment. The drive to Gaffney Chicago Medical Center was a blur of fatigue and discomfort, but he pressed on, determined to see his shift through to the end.

When he arrived, Natalie Manning greeted him with a concerned look. "Will, you look awful," she said bluntly, her voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine," Will replied through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin. "Just need to get through this shift."

Natalie studied him for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but she knew they were already swamped and couldn't really afford for Will not to be there. Nodding reluctantly, she moved on to attend to her own patients. Will felt a pang of guilt for lying to her, but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth. Not when the ER was already short-staffed and patients relied on him.

He masked his symptoms as best he could, forcing himself to focus on his work despite the haze of exhaustion that clouded his mind. The evening passed in a blur of consultations, treatments, and paperwork, each task more challenging than the last.

By the time the clock stuck 8.30pm, Will was running on fumes. The end of his shift was in sight, just another 30 minutes and he would be able to retreat to the sanctuary of his home. His bed called to him like a siren's song, promising him respite from the relentless demands of his job.

But just as he was mentally preparing to clock out, his phone buzzed in his pocket. With a sinking feeling, he pulled it out to see a text from Maggie.

"Hey Will, we're short-staffed tonight. Any chance you can stay a bit longer?"

Will stared at the screen in disbelief, his heart sinking with dread. The exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew he couldn't refuse. Not when his colleagues needed him.

With a resigned sigh, Will replied, "I'll stay."

He pocketed his phone and squared his shoulders, steeling himself for the long night ahead. The battle against his illness had only just begun, and Will knew he couldn't afford to show any weakness.

He handed over the last of his patients to Connor with a weary smile, his relief palpable. "I'm heading out," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Connor studied him with concern, his expression softening. "Get some rest, Will. You look like crap."

Will managed a nod of gratitude before stumbling towards the exit. The cool night air hit him like a balm, easing some of the fatigue that had settled deep into his bones. He took a moment to lean against the wall, catching his breath before heading towards his car.

The drive home was a blur of half-remembered streets and stoplights. Will's thoughts were consumed with the promise of his bed, the soft comforter and the promise of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. The image was tantalizing, a distant oasis in the desert of his exhaustion.

When he finally arrived home, Will practically collapsed through the front door, shedding his coat and shoes in a haphazard trail. The familiar sights and smells of his apartment enveloped him like a warm hug, easing the tension from his shoulders.

He stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, heedless of his clothes or the time. The softness of the mattress welcomed him home, and he closed his eyes with a sigh of relief.

What was supposed to be a restful healing sleep turned out to be anything but. He was up constantly coughing and wheezing, desperately trying to catch his breath. When he wasn't coughing, his nose plagued him, one minute it was so congested he had trouble breathing the next it was running ticklishly, launching him into merciless sneezing fits he tiredly muffled in his blanket. As he lay in bed, miserably battling his cold, he was so exhausted he thought he could cry, a small part of him wondered if maybe he shouldn't have tried soldiering his way through this cold at all. Finally as the sun began to rise, Will's body succumbed to the pull of sleep, allowing him some much needed rest.