Dr. Will Halstead rubbed his throat for what felt like the hundredth time that morning as he reviewed charts in the ER at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center. He'd woken up with a scratchy throat, which had only worsened throughout the day. Every time he spoke, his voice cracked in an embarrassing falsetto.

His brother, Detective Jay Halstead, sauntered into the ER with his usual confident stride, a smirk already forming on his face as he spotted Will. "Sounds like you've been hitting the karaoke too hard, Will. Or maybe you're finally hitting puberty again?"

Will shot him a withering glare, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "It's just a sore throat, Jay. Nothing to laugh about."

Jay chuckled, not entirely able to suppress his amusement. "Whatever you say, Doc. Don't say I didn't warn you, patients might think you're in a cartoon."

Will sighed, shaking his head as he resumed his work. Jay's teasing continued throughout the day, even when he was back at the district, Will would feel his phone buzzing in his pocket to find that Jay had sent some meme about puberty. Each jab making Will feel increasingly self-conscious.

Days passed, and Will's sore throat persisted. He found himself fatigued and feverish, struggling through his shifts at the hospital. Jay, noticing his brother's worsening condition, began to grow concerned despite his earlier jests.

"You still sound terrible," Jay commented one evening as they sat at Molly's.

"Screw you" Will admitted retorted. "You're not exactly Frank Sinatra you know" his voice cracking on the last word

Stifling a laugh, Jay responded "Hey man, at least I went through puberty properly the first time."

Feeling exhausted, Will's brain struggled to come up with a worthwhile come back so he settled for rolling his eyes at Jay.

By the next morning, Will's symptoms had escalated. He woke up drenched in sweat, his throat swollen and his joints aching. Concerned, he headed straight to the hospital, where he was immediately admitted for further tests.

Dr. Ethan Choi examined him thoroughly. "Your tonsils are severely inflamed, Will. It looks like tonsillitis, but I'm concerned about the possibility of complications."

Will's heart sank as Ethan discussed the potential risks, including rheumatic fever—a rare but serious complication of untreated strep throat.

Jay arrived at the hospital soon after, worry etched on his face as he saw his brother lying in a hospital bed, pale and exhausted. "Will, what's going on?"

Will recounted the past few days, including Jay's teasing and his deteriorating health. "I should have taken it seriously sooner," he admitted quietly.

Jay's guilt was palpable. "I didn't realize..."

Ethan interrupted gently, "We're running tests to confirm, but we suspect it's progressed to rheumatic fever."

Jay's eyes widened in shock. "Rheumatic fever? Is he going to be okay?"

Ethan nodded, though his expression was grave. "We caught it early, but he'll need aggressive treatment with antibiotics to prevent further complications."

Over the next few weeks, Will remained hospitalized under close observation. Jay rarely left his side, feeling guilty for his earlier teasing and determined to support his brother through his recovery.

Will's voice was barely a whisper now, a stark contrast to his usual confident tone. He spent most of his time resting, frustrated by his weakened state but grateful for the support of his colleagues and Jay.

One evening, as Jay sat by Will's bedside, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, Will finally spoke up. "I don't blame you for teasing me, Jay. I should have taken better care of myself."

Jay shook his head, a pained expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Will. I didn't realize how serious it could be."

Will managed a weak smile. "It's okay, Jay. We Halsteads are stubborn, remember?"

Jay chuckled softly, relieved by Will's forgiveness. "Yeah, that we are."

As the days passed and Will responded well to treatment, his strength slowly returned. He was discharged from the hospital with strict instructions for rest and follow-up appointments.

Back at their apartment, Jay helped Will settle in, fussing over him like an overprotective parent. "You better not try to play hero too soon, Will. We don't need a repeat of this."

Will rolled his eyes affectionately. "I promise, Jay. No more ignoring symptoms."

Their banter resumed, though with a newfound appreciation for each other's concerns and vulnerabilities. Jay made sure Will stuck to his medication schedule and rested properly, while Will endured Jay's fussing with good humor.

In the weeks that followed, Will gradually returned to work, his voice slowly regaining its usual strength. Jay, ever watchful, made sure to check in on him regularly, their bond strengthened by the ordeal they'd faced together.

As they sat on the rooftop of their apartment building one evening, watching the Chicago skyline, Jay finally spoke what had been on his mind since Will's diagnosis. "I'm sorry, Will. For laughing at you."

Will turned to him with a soft smile. "It's okay, Jay. We tease each other all the time. Just maybe a bit less about my voice now?"

Jay chuckled, nodding solemnly. "Deal."

And as the sun set over Chicago, casting a warm glow over the city, the Halstead brothers found themselves closer than ever, grateful for each other's support and determined not to take their bond—or their health—for granted again.

In the days and weeks that followed, Jay made a conscious effort to be more attentive to Will's well-being. He checked in on him regularly, not just to tease or banter, but to genuinely ensure he was doing okay. Will appreciated the gesture, knowing that Jay's concern came from a place of love and not just guilt.

Their bond as brothers grew stronger as they navigated the challenges of their respective jobs and personal lives. They supported each other through tough cases, celebrated victories together, and occasionally found time to unwind with a game of basketball or a drink at Molly's.

One evening, as they watched a Bulls game at Jay's apartment, Will turned to Jay with a grin. "You know, Jay, you've been surprisingly quiet about my voice lately."

Jay chuckled, nudging him playfully. "Hey, I've learned my lesson. I know better than to mess with Dr. Smooth Voice."

Will rolled his eyes, but there was warmth in his gaze. "Thanks for being there for me, Jay. Through everything."

Jay nodded, his expression serious. "Always, Will. Always."

As they settled back to watch the game, Jay couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance he'd been given to appreciate his brother more deeply. Will's health scare had taught him the importance of not taking anything—or anyone—for granted.