Will Halstead woke up with a pounding headache and a throat that felt like it had been scraped raw. He groaned as he rolled over and checked the time on his phone. 6:00 AM. He had to be at the hospital by 7:00. Despite feeling like he'd been hit by a truck, Will knew he couldn't afford to call in sick. The ER was already short-staffed, and flu season was hitting hard this year.
Dragging himself out of bed, Will stumbled through his morning routine. Every movement sent a wave of dizziness through him, but he pushed on. He popped a couple of ibuprofen and chugged a glass of water, hoping it would take the edge off his symptoms enough to get through the day.
At Chicago Med, Will did his best to focus on his patients, but every cough and sneeze from them felt like a personal attack. By mid-morning, he was struggling to keep up. Natalie noticed his pale complexion and offered to cover for him, but Will shook his head stubbornly. He couldn't let his team down, not now.
As the hours passed, Will's condition worsened. His fever spiked, and his hands shook as he tried to type up patient notes. Finally, during a rare lull in the ER, he pulled Natalie aside.
"I'm sorry, Nat," he croaked, his voice barely audible over the din of the emergency room. "I don't think I can do this anymore."
Natalie placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Go home, Will. You're no good to anyone like this."
Will nodded weakly, grateful for her understanding. He approached Sharon Goodwin, the hospital's administrator, and requested to leave early due to illness. She gave him a concerned look but granted his request without hesitation. Will gathered his things then paused as he stared at his phone. He was meant to have dinner with his brother Jay that night. Jay had been working undercover for the last couple of months on a case that was finally closed and both brothers had been looking forward to this reunion dinner of sorts. Will wondered if he would be well enough to power through dinner after a quick nap.
Almost immediately after he had that thought, his nose protested by sending him into a sneezing fit. Sighing, Will grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser and enveloped his poor red nose in it as he gave in to a few congested blows while, he shot Jay a quick text to postpone the dinner plans they had that night knowing that there was no way he was going to be well enough to show up. Then, he practically staggered out of the hospital.
Outside, the cold air hit Will like a slap in the face. He fumbled for his keys, his vision swimming. As he stumbled towards his car, a figure emerged from the shadows behind him. Before Will could react, he felt a sharp spike of pain at the back of his head, and everything went dark.
Hours passed before Will regained consciousness. He was disoriented, his head pounding worse than ever. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were bound. Panic surged through him as he realized he had no idea where he was and that he couldn't move.
The room he was in was freezing cold, the concrete floor sending shivers through his weakened body. Will struggled to focus, his mind still clouded from fever and illness. He managed to roll onto his side, trying to alleviate the pressure on his bound wrists.
Each breath felt like knives in his chest, and he knew hypothermia was setting in. Will's teeth chattered uncontrollably as he fought against the darkness threatening to consume him. He strained to listen for any sounds of his captors, but the warehouse was eerily silent.
His thoughts drifted to Jay, his brother and protector. Would Jay realize something was wrong? Would he find him in time? Will fought to stay awake, knowing that losing consciousness could mean the end.
Back at Chicago PD's Intelligence Unit, Jay Halstead was desperate to get out of the precinct. He had received Will's text earlier asking to postpone dinner and couldn't help the frown that crossed his forehead as he read that Will wasn't feeling well. The Halstead men were stubborn and did not easily admit to feeling under the weather, Will must really be sick if it was bad enough that he was cancelling dinner. Jay immediately made up his mind that it would be in everyone's best interest if he showed up to Will's apartment tonight with some soup and movies.
Upon getting to Will's apartment, Jay is surprised not to see Will's car anywhere but figured that Will must have left it at work and caught the L train or taken an Uber home instead so he wouldn't have to drive. When Will didn't answer the door, Jay picked the lock easily and let himself in. As Jay scanned the empty apartment, his confusion quickly turned to worry as he realized that Will wasn't home and probably hadn't been home today at all. Pulling out his phone, Jay scrolled quickly through his contacts before dialing a mutual friend.
"Hey Jay," Natalie answered. "Is Will doing alright? I assume you dropped by his place to see him."
"He's not here Nat," Jay hedges "Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"What?! No, he left Med right after lunch. Jay, Will did not look good when he left, he's in no condition to be anywhere but in bed." Natalie finished.
Confused and worried, Jay hangs up before dialing the precinct. He pulls a couple of favors and manages to get a trace on Will's car. Realizing that Will's car never left the hospital parking lot, Jay rushes to Med.
Upon getting to Will's car, Jay's stomach sinks even further when notices Will's hospital ID lying in a pool of blood on the floor and a tablet with his name on it. As his mind races, Jay forces himself to focus and steels his nerves. He strides into the hospital, gripping the tablet tightly, intent on reviewing the security footage and places a call into Voight. He's going to need help finding Will.
Security footage reveals that Will had been struck on the back of his head and loaded into a plateless black van more than 3 hours ago. Jay paces the bullpen, unable to focus on anything but finding his brother. His earlier concerns had morphed into a gut-wrenching fear that something terrible had happened.
Voight and the Intelligence team worked tirelessly, following every lead and combing through evidence. Now, every minute counted.
"We need more information," Jay insisted, his voice tight with anxiety. "There has to be something we missed."
Voight nodded grimly, his own frustration palpable. "We're doing everything we can, Jay. We'll find him."
Jay clenched his fists, the urge to do something, anything, almost overwhelming. He couldn't lose Will, not now, not after everything they'd been through. Determination set his jaw as he pushed himself and his team harder, refusing to rest until his brother was safe.
At that moment, the tablet which had been sitting in an evidence bag on Jay's table lights up and words flash across the screen.
"TRAITOR!"
"YOU TOOK MY BROTHER… NOW YOUR'S WILL PAY, JEREMY LOGAN"
Jay's eyes widened as he recognised the name. It was the alias he had used while he had been undercover with the Tyrano Syndicate. His assignment had been to infiltrate the syndicate and gain information about their inner workings and ringleader. While he was undercover, Jay had gotten close with Raymond Tyrano, the younger brother of the Tyrano Syndicate leader, Bertram Tyrano. Using his relationship with Raymond, Jay was able to extract information which led to the eventual arrests of several high ranking members of the Tyrano Syndicate, including Bertram Tyrano.
Raymond had been present during the arrest, and when he realised that Jay was an undercover cop, his eyes had burned with rage as he swore revenge.
"Shit!" Jay cursed, as he realised that Will was being held by Raymond.
The screen went pitch black.
Then, a video popped up. The screen showed a dimly lit room containing a figure bound and trembling on the ground. Jay squinted at the screen and leaned in closer, more out of habit than anything, he had known the moment the screen lit up that the figure lying on the ground was his brother. His unwell and obviously hurt brother.
Inside the warehouse, Will's struggle against hypothermia became increasingly desperate. He could feel his limbs growing numb, his body shutting down in the cold. Fear gripped him as he fought to stay conscious, knowing that losing the battle meant losing everything.
Footsteps echoed in the distance, and Will's heart leaped with hope. Maybe Jay had found him. Maybe this nightmare would finally be over. But as the footsteps grew closer, Will's hope turned to despair. It was one of his captors, checking in on their prisoner.
"Still alive, huh?" the man sneered, crouching down beside Will. "Not for much longer."
Will feels himself being dragged up. His arms burning as they are tied to a hook dangling from the ceiling and forced to carry his entire body weight. He groans as his muscles protest the movement which only causes his captors to laugh, clearly enjoying his pain.
"It's about to get so so much worse for you," his captor taunts, as he lands a well aimed kick at Will's ribs.
Will gasps at the pain before quickly dissolving into a fit of wet hacking coughs, his lungs unable to take the assault of cold air.
Jay continues to watch helplessly as Will's captors rain a series of punches and kicks down on a defenseless Will.
Will feels like he's ready to pass out, yet before he can succumb to the darkness, he gets hit with a gush of cold water.
"Wake up asshole!" his captor demands, holding an empty bucket that had been filled with cold water. "You're not getting off that easy."
With that the video feed cuts and the tablet screen flashes the words
"ROUND 1. TYRANO 1 JEREMY LOGAN 0"
"ROUND 2…7PM TOMORROW NIGHT"
The room was silent, everyone staring in shock at the horrors the tablet had just screened. Jay feels his stomach churning and looks down to see his hands shaking. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns quickly on his heel needing to get away from the room. As he leaves, he thinks he hears Voight giving instructions but all he can think about now was the way Will looked – helpless, sick and injured, all because of him. At that moment, his stomach lurches and he's running to the nearest trash can, barely making it in time before he loses his lunch.
The remainder of that night and the next day passed in a feverish blur for both Halstead brothers. Jay refused to rest until he found Will and had him home safe. The Intelligence unit desperately chased leads and reviewed the case that Jay had helped build, hoping for any insight into where Will might be held. The tablet had been cloned and was being analyzed by IT, Jay had personally gone down and begged for them to do anything they could to tell him where his brother was.
Will continued to shiver alone, hung up by his wrists. He knew he didn't have much more left in him, he could feel his fever climbing, his head pounding, his chest and ribs throbbing with signs of infection and the brutal assault. Every time his body went limp and he was on the verge of passing out, his arms would tug painfully, a reminder that falling asleep simply wasn't an option. It was all Will could do to pray that Jay had seen the video and would find him before it was too late.
At 6.58pm the next day, the Intelligence Unit was gathered around the tablet again. Jay had never felt more like a failure. It was his fault that his brother was in danger and nothing he had done last night or that day had gotten them any closer to saving him. Instead, here he was a sitting duck, waiting and praying that the video would show Will, still alive.
"Jay," Hailey started quietly. "Maybe you shouldn't watch this."
"I'm not leaving!" Jay snaps.
"Jay," Voight interjects
"Sarge, I have to" Jay begs, not allowing Voight to finish.
Voight simply nods in understanding.
The screen comes to life, to reveal Will bruised and hanging from the ceiling. Jay notices that Will is trembling but can't tell if that's from the fever Will likely has or from being half naked in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of winter.
Will is acutely aware of someone walking towards him. He stiffens, remembering the beating that was administered previously, or at least he tries to, at this point it seems his muscles no longer want to cooperate.
"Showtime bitch!" Will hears his captors crow as he is lifted off the hook and shoved into a chair.
For a moment, Will sags in a chair, grateful to no longer be held up by his wrists but before he can even attempt to take a breath, he is violently jerked backwards.
His captor had grabbed a handful of his red hair and yanked him backwards, the force almost toppling him out of the chair. A cloth is placed over his face and he can hear the water sloshing nearby.
The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, like drowning but without immediate relief. Will thrashed against the restraints, but the terror only escalated with each second.
The cloth was removed, and Will desperately gulped for air, hacking out coughs as his abused lungs begged for relief. Each cough brought a new sensation of pain as his chest heaved trying to bring in any oxygen at all. Will felt hot tears mix with the cold water on his face.
When his body seemed to finally give up coughing, he was yanked back again, the cloth replaced and more water poured. Each time he was let up, he coughed, frantically trying to draw breath into his congested lungs. He knows he is crying but there's nothing he can do to stop it. At first, he thought he must have screamed, but now even when his lips moved, no sound came out.
As he hacks, coughs and sneezes, his body anxious for relief, he tastes blood. Hemoptysis, his brain throws out uselessly. Will's mouth moves, forming words but no sounds comes out.
Eventually, his captors seemed satisfied enough with the performance and leave him curled up on the ground, shivering and praying for death.
The video feed cuts and the tablet screen flashes the words
"ROUND 2. TYRANO 2 JEREMY LOGAN 0"
"7PM TOMORROW NIGHT… THE GRAND FINALE"
Again, the room was silent, nobody knew what to say.
"Will was saying something," Ruzek says, breaking the silence.
"Play it back again," Jay says.
Kim looks at Jay stunned.
"Rewind and play it again, zoom in on Will's face." Voight commands, knowing that they had to investigate every clue they possibly could.
Kim queues up the video and zooms in on Will's face. The team stares at the screen, trying to make out the words Will was mouthing.
"Fuck!" Jay roars as he punches his desk, his heart sinking as he realizes what Will was mouthing.
Jay's knees buckle and he hits the ground, head buried in his arm supported by his desk.
"Jay?" Hailey questions softly.
Jay looks up at his team, eyes prickling with tears. "Will said," Jay swallows convulsively, the thought of putting sound to Will's words causing a wave of nausea.
"Will said "Jay please. Please Jay.""Jay whispers.
"We're not giving up," Voight says gruffly, placing a reassuring hand on Jay's shoulder. "Hit up your CIs again. Get tech to review that video, pull anything we can from it. We've got 24 hours. We're going to get these sons of bitches."
Intelligence worked tirelessly, chasing down clues and forcing information out of their CIs. At the 21st, everyone was on high alert, Sergeant Platt had offered anyone who would take it overtime and had reinforced to all patrol cars to keep an eye out for Raymond Tyrano.
Finally, a break in the case. One of Atwater's CIs had spotted Raymon Tyrano purchasing medical supplies from a pharmacy and tailed him back to an old warehouse. The team had raced to the warehouse with SWAT close behind, aware that they were cutting it dangerously close to 7pm when the grand finale would begin.
Voight had insisted on Jay riding with him, not trusting the younger man to be able to control his instincts to rush straight in without back-up. Jay sat stewing in the passenger sit, his hands gripping onto the tablet tightly while his heart pounded in his chest, terrified that he was going to be too late.
In the warehouse, Will's breath hitched as he heard his captors approaching. He had long since lost track of time, everything was just a symphony of pain. The very act of breathing caused pain to shoot through his chest as his tortured lungs fought to keep him alive.
Will could hear his captor making some grand speech to the camera, then he felt himself being yanked back up and hung back on the hook. He froze as the man pulled out a knife, the blade glinting in the dim light. He struggled against his bonds, adrenaline coursing through him despite his weakened state. The man laughed, taunting him as he pressed the knife against Will's throat.
Will gasped as the blade of the knife broke the skin, not deep enough to be life threatening but deep enough to hurt. His lungs protested the sharp intake of air, promptly launching him into a loud, hacking coughing fit. Each cough sounded harsher and louder than the last, his head throbbed with each cough as his lungs screamed for air. Maybe this was it he thought, he could feel the cold sweat dripping down his shivering frame as his body fought against the cold temperatures and his insides burned with fever. Maybe it was time to rest, to give in to the inviting darkness.
Suddenly, the warehouse doors burst open, flooding the room with blinding light. Jay Halstead stormed in, gun raised and eyes blazing with fury. "Drop the knife!"
The man hesitated, caught off guard by Jay's sudden appearance. In that split second, Jay fired, taking down the kidnapper before he could react. Jay rushed to Will's side, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and dread.
"Will!" Jay's voice cracked with emotion as he hugged Will's limp body, feverishly working to get his brother off the hook.
He succeeds and Will slumps against him, unable to support his own body weight. Jay guides Will to the ground and kneels beside his brother.
"Jay," Will croaked as he finally allowed himself to surrender to the darkness.
"Will!" Jay calls again, his voice urgent as he reached out and touched Will's cold, clammy skin, feeling for a pulse. "Will?"
"Will!" Jay screams, panic surging through him when he didn't feel Will's pulse throbbing against his fingers.
"No..." Jay whispered, his hands shaking as he began CPR. "Come on, Will. Stay with me."
He counted compressions in his head, willing his brother to respond. Desperation drove him as he continued, his voice cracking as he begged for help.
"Hailey, get an ambulance here now!" Jay's voice echoed through the warehouse, raw with urgency. "Voight, we need backup! Anyone who can hear me, help!"
Voight and Hailey rushed to Jay's side, their training kicking in as they assisted with CPR and monitored for any signs of life. Jay's hands trembled as he pressed down on Will's chest, his mind racing with fear and determination.
"Stay with me, Will," Jay pleaded, tears stinging his eyes. "Please, don't leave me."
Minutes stretched into eternity as Jay fought to keep his brother alive. Every compression felt like a battle against time, against the cold that threatened to claim Will forever.
Paramedics from Ambulance 61 arrived and took over the resuscitation attempt. While Jay sat on the ground held back by Voight so he wouldn't get in the way. Given a choice, Voight would have hoisted him up and away from the scene to allow the paramedics space to work but Jay resolutely refused to be led anywhere further, intent on keep his grip on his brother's hand.
"He's back," Sylvie breathed, relief flooding her voice.
Jay's shoulders sagged with exhaustion and overwhelming emotion. He cradled Will's head gently, his voice a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. "You're gonna be okay, Will. You hear me? You're gonna be okay."
At Chicago Med, Will Halstead was fighting two battles simultaneously: one against the lingering effects of hypothermia and the other against the relentless onslaught of the flu. The doctors and nurses worked tirelessly around him, their efforts focused on stabilizing his dangerously low body temperature and combating the infection ravaging his weakened immune system.
Natalie hovered anxiously at his bedside, monitoring his vital signs and adjusting the IV fluids to warm his chilled body. She glanced at the thermometer periodically, her brow furrowed with concern as she noted the slow rise in Will's core temperature.
"He's responding," Natalie murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "We just need to keep pushing."
Meanwhile, in the waiting area outside the ICU, Jay Halstead paced restlessly, his nerves stretched to the breaking point. He had refused to leave the hospital since Will was brought in, his eyes fixed on the doors that separated him from his brother. Every beep of the monitors inside sent a jolt of fear through him, but he drew strength from the presence of his Intelligence team standing vigil with him.
"We're here for you, Jay," Voight said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of their shared concern. "Will's strong. He's gonna pull through."
Jay nodded, grateful for the support even as he struggled to contain his anxiety. He ran a hand through his hair, his movements jerky with nerves. "He has to," Jay murmured, his voice hoarse. "He can't leave me, not like this."
Inside the ICU, the battle against Will's hypothermia and flu continued unabated. The medical team administered antibiotics and carefully monitored his oxygen levels, adjusting the warming blankets to gradually raise his body temperature. Natalie remained by his side, her determination matched only by her deep concern for her friend.
Days turned into a blur for Jay Halstead as he kept vigil by Will's bedside. The ICU became their temporary home, its sterile walls and beeping monitors a constant reminder of the fragility of life. Jay rarely left, save for quick breaks to grab a coffee or freshen up, always returning with a sense of urgency that spoke volumes about his devotion to his brother.
Will's battle against hypothermia and the flu was grueling. Natalie Manning and the medical team continued their round-the-clock care, adjusting treatments, monitoring vital signs, and combating complications as they arose. Jay watched it all with a mixture of hope and dread, every slight improvement in Will's condition met with a cautious smile, every setback a sharp pang of worry.
"You've got this, Will," Jay whispered, his voice low as he sat by Will's bedside, his hand clasping his brother's. "Stay strong, please."
The days blurred together, filled with moments of hope and fear. Jay found solace in the presence of his colleagues from Intelligence, who took turns keeping him company and offering support. Voight's gruff reassurances and Hailey's steadfast presence became lifelines for Jay, grounding him in the midst of uncertainty.
One evening, as dusk settled over the city outside, Natalie Manning approached Jay with a small smile on her face. "There's been some improvement," she said softly, her eyes tired but hopeful.
Jay's heart leaped in his chest. "Really?" he asked eagerly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Natalie nodded, her smile widening slightly. "His temperature is stabilizing, and his oxygen levels have improved. He's responding to treatment."
Relief washed over Jay like a tidal wave. He felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he squeezed Natalie's hand gratefully. "Thank you, Nat. Thank you for everything."
As the days passed, Will's condition slowly but steadily improved. His fever broke, and the color returned to his cheeks, though he remained weak and fatigued. Jay spent hours talking to his unconscious brother, recounting old memories and promising to make new ones once Will was back on his feet.
"You're gonna beat this, Will," Jay said one afternoon, his voice filled with determination. "We've got a lot of catching up to do. I'm so sorry."
Voight stood in the doorway, his expression softening as he watched Jay interact with Will. He cleared his throat softly, drawing Jay's attention. "He's gonna make it," Voight said gruffly, his voice tinged with relief.
Jay nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he replied, his voice steady. "He's gonna make it."
As the weeks passed, Will's strength returned, bit by bit. He moved out of the ICU and into a regular hospital room, where he continued to recover under Natalie's watchful eye. Jay remained a constant presence, his visits filled with quiet conversations and moments of shared silence that spoke volumes.
One evening, as Jay sat by Will's bedside, his brother's eyes fluttered open. Jay's heart leaped with joy as he leaned closer, his voice thick with emotion. "Hey, Will. Welcome back."
Will managed a weak smile, his voice raspy but filled with gratitude. "Hey, Jay. Thank you for... finding me."
Tears welled in Jay's eyes as he reached out and clasped Will's hand tightly. "You had us all worried there, you know?"
Will chuckled softly, the sound music to Jay's ears. "Sorry," he murmured, his eyes closing briefly in exhaustion.
Jay shook his head, his eyes prickling with tears. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he says shakily. "I'm so sorry Will. I never meant for you to get hurt. I'm sorry."
Will squeezes Jay's hand, muscles protesting at the movement. "Not your fault, I forgive you. You saved me."
Will's eyes fluttered closed again, but Jay knew he was listening. He stayed by Will's side until his brother drifted back to sleep, the weight of uncertainty finally lifted from his shoulders.
In the days that followed, Will's recovery progressed steadily. With each passing day, he grew stronger, supported by Jay's unwavering love and the steadfast dedication of their extended family at Chicago Med and Intelligence. The ordeal had tested them both, but it had also strengthened their bond, forging a connection that was unbreakable.
As Will prepared to leave the hospital, Jay stood by his side, a smile of pride and relief on his face. They walked out together, brothers in arms, ready to face whatever challenges life threw their way.