Chicago Med fic: On the Run (1/1)
Title: On the Run
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Set post S6 and before S7. It’s not technically AU, though I doubt this is what canon believes happened. Unbeta'ed.
Summary: With no job, no girlfriend, and no other ties to Chicago, Will’s just a flight risk.
-o-
When Will finally gets home from the hospital, all he can do is sit there and think how he’s been here before.
Alone - check.
Miserable - check.
Jobless - check.
Disgraced and embarrassed - check and check.
The sense of dejavu is horribly unpleasant, and he teeters on the verge of despair before he remembers.
He’s been here before.
He knows exactly what he needs to do. Sure, he’d thought he’d changed in the last five years at Med, but clearly not. Maybe people can’t change. Maybe that’s just an illusion. Maybe he’s just been putting off the inevitable.
He’s been here before.
So he does the only thing he knows to do, the only thing he’s always done.
Will Halstead runs.
From his responsibilities. From his consequences. From his shame and guilt. From everyone who ever cared about him.
Will picks up, packs his bags, takes the first job that will have him, and runs like hell.
-o-
It’s not running, he tells himself.
It’s not.
He’s been fired. He needs a job.
So, Will finds a job.
He finds the first job that will take him. The flashiest, stupidest kind of job he can. He gets a job where his medical skills are secondary, but the fact that he smiles nice and makes good small talk matters a hell of a lot.
Medical consulting, they call it.
He’s offered a trial position at a clinic just outside of St. Louis for a weekend. When he smashes that, they fly in out to Denver for three days. Before he knows it, he’s in New York. He starts losing track of it after that. Between the nameless executives he can’t remember and the company parties he goes to, it starts to blur together. They’re paying him, though.
And people love him.
He makes them laugh.
He makes them shell out their cash.
Will’s good at it.
He needs to be good at something. So he sells the company line. He drinks the booze. He sleeps with the administrative assistants. One city to the next, to the next. There are fifteen messages from Jay, but he stopped checking after landing in Atlanta.
He’s not running, see.
It’s just that he’s not exactly looking back either.
If he goes far enough, he thinks, when he does look back, there’ll be nothing there to see.
-o-
Jay’s worried.
He’s got enough on his plate as it is, what with Hailey acting all weird and Voight being Voight. Crime in Chicago never takes a holiday, and Jay’s spent, okay? He’s not sure he wants to work for Voight, and he’s not sure what’s up with Hailey, and where the hell is Will?
It seems like that shouldn’t be an issue. Will’s a grown man, and Jay’s never pretended to be his brother’s keeper. They’ve had their ups and downs over the years, and Jay hasn’t really thought about it, but lately it’s been an up.
And more than that, Jay likes the up. He likes his brother. He likes having his brother in Chicago. After all these years, he’s finally allowed himself to believe that Will has finally changed.
So what does he do?
He goes and gets fired.
Now, Jay had been worried when Will told him. He’d tried to reassure his brother that they’d get through it, that Jay would always be there for him. There were lots of fish in the sea, so to speak. An ED doctor was always in high demand, especially during a pandemic.
He’d thought his appeal was compassionate and pragmatic; he’d thought it might work.
Until Will had packed a bag and said he had a job to go to.
“Just for the weekend,” he’d said.
That was a month ago.
He hadn’t been home since.
At first, Will’d done an okay job keeping in touch. They’d texted; they’d talked. They’d kept up on things. But as Will flitted from city to city, the messages grew sporadic. He stopped answering his phone. The last he’d heard was that he was leaving New York and that his next stop was in Atlanta.
That’d been a week ago.
Not a word from Will since.
At first, Jay had tried to just stop calling. Give Will some space.
That had lasted about a day.
Then, he’d tracked his brother’s phone. It was still active, and with some sleuthing, it’d been easy to trace his brother’s movement across the country. He was staying at some damn Marriott in Atlanta at a week-long medical consulting conference. In other words, his brother had gone from ED doc to overpriced salesman.
And he’s not answering his damn phone.
Finally, Hailey sighs in exasperation as Jay texts Will for the 20th time. “Just go get him.”
“What?” Jay asks, taken aback.
She makes a gesture toward the door. “Go get your brother. You know where he is. So buy a ticket, find him, and drag his ass back home.”
It’s so plaintive that Jay gapes at her, struggling to find the appropriate objection. “I can’t do that.”
“You can,” she says. “And I know you want to.”
He’s defensive now. “But Will won’t like it.”
“So?” she asks. “I thought that’s the point. We’re not trusting Will’s judgement.”
Jay shakes his head. He’s resolute. “It’s none of my business.”
She rolls her eyes. “Look, you tell me all the time that when Will’s hurt, he runs. That’s just what he does.”
Jay frowns, not sure what her point is. “Yeah.”
She shrugs. “And you, when you’re hurt, you hold a grudge. You hold it inside and let it turn to resentment.”
That’s annoying insightful. If he didn’t love her so damn much, she’d be positively insufferable. “It’s not my job to bring him home.”
“No,” she says. “But if you want him to break his bad habits, maybe you start by breaking yours. It’ll be better for both of you, in the end.”
-o-
In the end, there’s really no way around it. Hailey’s advice isn’t so much prudent as it is essential, and Jay recognizes that if he wants to stop his brother from running, then he’s going to have to chase him.
It’s a novelty. All the times Will’s cut and run, and Jay’s always let him. He’s played it safe on the homefront, nursing his wounds while his brother flits about. After enough time, it’s easy to stop seeing why he left. Instead, he fixates on how much it hurts.
But the why matters. Will runs when he’s scared, and getting fired? After all those years at Med?
It stands to reason that Will’s pretty damn scared. With no job, no girlfriend, and no other ties to Chicago, Will’s just a flight risk.
Which is silly. It’s not as bad as Will thinks it is. Jay’s been here the whole time, and he’s talked to the people at Med. Everyone misses Will. Everyone’s stood up for him. Hell, Maggie’s ready to canonize him for protecting Natalie, and Natalie insists, again and again, that Goodwin will talk if Will comes back.
The problem is that none of it’s easy. It requires Will to swallow his pride and face his fears.
Two things that Will’s never done before.
But if Jay can get on a plane to drag his brother home, then he’ll make sure Will does the rest.
At least, that’s the plan.
If he doesn’t want to kick his brother’s ass first for being such an unequivocal asshole.
He’s going to find his brother. He’s going to bring him home.
Either by hugging him or punching him the first.
It’s a fifty-fifty proposition, how this goes.
The result, though, Jay promises himself.
He comes home with Will.
Or he doesn’t come home at all.
-o-
He lands in Atlanta, and traffic’s a mess. It’s a pain in the ass to get out of there, and it’s hours before he arrives at Will’s hotel. He’s already pulled his police contacts to confirm Will’s staying here, but he’ll still have to go to the desk unless he plans on breaking into Will’s room.
He’s waiting in line, working up his most polite smile, when he sees the sign up the way.
Atlanta Medical Providers Conference: Hassian Technologies.
It’s a sign directed at the ballroom, and Jay watches for a moment as people filter in and out. They’re all dressed for a party, and the party, it seems, is in full gear.
Back in Chicago, Will had been bad with the rich donors and the hobnobbing. But this is the guy who went into private practice in New York - as a plastic surgeon. Will’s settled down a lot in Chicago, but before that? He’d never settled down. All the girls, all the partying - Will had left it behind when he came home.
But they’re not at home anymore.
Running away isn’t about going to another city or another state or even another continent.
Running away is about finding ways not to face yourself. Jay’s good with denial, thank you very much. Will’s much better with obfuscation.
If there’s enough noise, enough drink, enough kissing, then he doesn’t have to face it.
It’s a pity for Will, then.
Because he’s run pretty damn far.
But Jay’s run just as far to find him.
One of them is going to be successful tonight, and Jay’s banking on himself this time.
-o-
It’s not hard to get into the party, despite the fact that it’s by invite only. The girl checking names is effusive and polite, explaining that they have some very high profile clients right now, and she really can’t break protocol.
Jay shows her his badge, and it’s flashy enough to do the trick. She doesn’t think twice about jurisdiction, and she lets him in regardless.
Will’s at the bar
Talking to some people
Making his pitch
Explaining how workflow should hpapen in the ED
One of the men rolls his eyes “You’ve already close the sale. You don’t need to keep on about it.”
“Oh, this isn’t just a sale,” Will says. “The efficiency of your ED affects everything. Your doctors, your nurses, your patient-”
“The bottom line,” the man croons, eliciting raucous laughter from the small crowd.
Will flushes, but he pulls back.
“Come on, come on,” the man says, waving at the bartender. “Another round! Ginny, help Dr. Halstead here get another round!”
Ginny is dressed in a slinky cocktail dress, and she produces a drink and a dazzling smile as she saunters up to Will. Will hesitates, but he looks at Ginny, he looks at the drink, and he takes it anyway. Will thinks he can keep running tonight.
Well, Will’s about to get a big surprise.
-o-
Surprise isn’t quite the word for it.
When Will sees Jay, it’s clear he thinks he’s seeing things. Maybe he’s just that drunk. Maybe he’s just unable to fathom how Jay found him - or why.
At any rate, Will gawks, nearly spills his drink down the front of himself, and does a triple take before choking on his own breath, unable to speak as Jay comes up.
“Will,” he says. “Hi.”
It’s a kind of dumb thing to say, all things considered. Jay’s come halfway across the country to bring his idiot brother home, and he’s seething mad while Will is half drunk, and all Jay says is hi.
Will is equally dumbfounded. “I - what - what are you doing here?”
He’s fumbling, not sure what to do with the drink, the girl, or the gaggle of tipsy rich men he’s with.
Jay shrugs, nonchalant somehow. “Looking for you.”
Will, somehow, gapes with even more dramatic flair. “I - what?”
Ginny looks disconcerted, but the men harken a bit more readily. “A colleague of yours, Dr. Halstead?”
The formality of the title makes the whole situation feel even worse than it is.
Will reddens accordingly. “Uh, no,” he says, mustering up enough to face them, even as he keeps a wary eye on Jay. “It’s, uh. My brother.”
The word sounds funny. It’s imbued with doubt. Regret. Shame.
At least Will knows, on some level, that he’s an idiot.
“Your brother?” one of the men says. “Oh, is he a doctor, too? I don’t believe I’ve met him yet.”
It’s almost congenial, but it’s just all wrong. Jay flattens his lips and doesn’t allow himself to smile as he addresses the man. “No, I’m a cop,” he says, and he looks back at Will. “And I’ve got to talk to my brother.”
Jay knows he doesn’t look particularly formidable at first glance. He doesn’t have the gravitas of Voight by any means, but when he’s serious, he’s serious. And it’s not hard to tell.
These men, half drunk, rich idiots, are still keen enough to see that.
Subtlety is not what Jay’s going for right now.
The men mutter diffuse apologies and excuse themselves, and Ginny is the last to disentangle herself from Will’s arm with apparent regret. Will, still speechless, says nothing, and Jay drags him by the arm to the side of the room.
“What are you doing?” Will asks, pulling up short before Jay can forcibly remove him from the room altogether. He pulls his arm free and shakes his head. “Seriously, Jay. I don’t know how you found me or why, but I’m working here. I have a job.”
Jay can’t keep himself from scoffing. “Yeah, I think your job is done. No one is working here.”
It’s too flippant, and it hits Will too hard. His nostrils flare. “You don’t get to tell me when my job is done.”
Will’s banking hard on the facade of being a trained professional, which he was, for the record. He respected the hell out of his brother as a physician. But this? This wasn’t Will as a doctor. This was hardly Will at all. “I heard your friends talking,” he said, opting for reason now. “You made the sale. So, job done.”
Will’s too far down that road to stop now. He shakes his head, still stubborn. “But there’s more to it than that.”
Jay rolls his eyes. More to it like drinking and sleeping around. “Yeah, I think you should be done, man.”
He’s trying to keep this to Will’s imperative, but that ground is slipping away. He wants Will to come home willingly, sure. But mostly, he wants Will to come home. Jay’s come all this way, and Will makes his last stand. “You don’t know anything.”
Jay wishes that his brother could be right. It’d be easier. It would have spared him the plane ticket and this whole lost weekend. But this is his brother. And there’s nothing either of them can do about that. “I know you,” Jay says. “Better than I want to.”
Will scoffs and he looks away, as if to walk off. “Whatever-”
Jay grabs him by the arm, tugging him slightly once more. “Just come upstairs,” he says, softer now. “Let’s just talk about things. You know. Talk.”
It’s the kind of thing Will would have normally been all for, were Jay the one spiralling and Will the one intervening. However, Halsteads under pressure didn’t always act with common sense. He wonders fleetingly if he’s this annoying and he decides surely not.
Will’s face contorts. “Screw you,” he snaps. His eyes flash with dark skepticism. “You came all the way here just to talk?”
With a scoff, Jay shrugs. “Well, you didn’t answer your phone for a week.”
“Yeah, because maybe I don’t want to talk!” Will retorts.
There’s an unfortunate logic to that, and it stings more than Jay wants to admit. He knows Will doesn’t mean it - not really - but it still hurts. To come this far, to give up this much.
Just to have Will throw it back in his face.
He hates this. He hates it so damn much, and he hates the fact that he can’t bring himself to walk away even more. Running is Will’s thing, though.
Jay sees it through.
Even when it hurts.
Even when he doesn’t want to.
He gives his brother a derisive look. “I should just leave you here.”
This only triggers his brother’s defiance even more. “Then why don’t you?”
It’s a challenge, almost. But it’s a bluff, backed only by the vestiges of Will’s ruined pride.
Jay knows that, and Will needs his help.
If only he wasn’t such an asshole about it.
Hugs or punches, that’d been the question.
Fists curling, anger rising, at least Jay knows the answer.
Will is glaring at him, audaciously smug, and Jay throws the punch, planting it on his brother’s cheek. It’s not as hard as he can punch, but he’s not looking to hurt his brother. He just wants his brother to shut the hell up.
Will stumbles back a step, reeling. There’s a collective gasp from around the room, and people start to crowd in as Will straightens, hand cradling his cheek as he eyes Jay venomously. His lip is spilt, leaking a small trickle of blood.
Jay holds up his hands, mindful of his brother and the cries of newly concerned onlookers. “Just family business,” he says, by way of explanation to the crowd. Then, to Will, he adds, “I’ll be just outside. When you’re done in here, I’ll be waiting. No running.”
Will is mopping up at his split lip. “Just stalking, apparently,” he mutters.
Jay doesn’t deny it, hands still up as he pulls back and holds Will’s gaze so his brother understands. “No running.”
It’s a threat, maybe.
It’s more of a promise
-o-
There’s a restaurant across from the ballroom, and Jay takes up residence at the bar with a clear angle of the door. He figures it’s possible Will might try to sneak out a back entrance, but stealth isn’t one of his brother’s strong suits. Especially while inebriated. Will’s a runner in these situations, not a planner. That gives Jay a decided advantage.
Not that he’s sure he wants it anymore.
It’s stupid, after all.
He’s come all this way, and he’s drinking Pepsi at an overpriced hotel bar, and for what? For his brother?
Will’s a grown man. He can make his own choices, even if they’re bad choices. He’s being presumptuous to think he can tell his brother what to do - even if he’s sure he’s right. It’s stupid for him to pretend like he can make his brother do anything.
That said, Jay knows it’s stupid to do nothing, especially when he can see that the choices Will’s making aren’t choices that he’ll enjoy long-term. Will’s been happy in Chicago. It’s the longest he’s stayed anywhere. He’s made connections; he’s built a life. Just because things with Natalie didn’t work out didn’t mean Will had nothing. There were still people who cared about him - who would go to bat for him. Ethan would write him a reference. Dr. Charles would call in favors to get him hired somewhere new. Maggie would practically stalk potential employers to make sure he got a fair shake.
And everyone missed him. They all asked about him at Molly’s. Hailey had sent him here not just for Jay’s sake or even Will’s sake - but for her own. She liked him, too.
Will’s not just running, here. He’s imploding.
Jay has to stay.
If he lets this go on, it’s just going to get worse. And damn it, he cares about his brother. He does. He’s not just about to sit back and let this relationship deteriorate. He’s been here, done that. He let his old man die right in front of him without making amends.
You can’t run from your problems.
You also can’t pretend they don’t exist.
This time, they both have to stay and face whatever comes next.
-o-
By the time Will stumbles out of the hall, everyone else has nearly left. The bar is closing up, but they’ve agreed to let Jay stay when he flashed his badge and left a sizeable tip for the trouble. He’s about to go back in and see if Will’s snuck out another way when appears, plainly as drunk as Jay has ever seen him and leaning heavily on Ginny.
The rest of their menagerie had left an hour ago, and Jay’s seen some of the wait staff clear out as well. Will and Ginny must be close to the last ones out, and he suspects from the way Ginny is half carrying him that leaving was her idea. Will would have stayed in there forever to avoid Jay, and if he’d been smart enough not to get hammered, he might have been able to pull that off.
But Will’s the smartest guy Jay knows.
And the dumbest.
He’s the guy you trust to stitch up your bullet wound, but you should never turn to him for relationship advice under duress.
Will’s fumbling nearly takes Ginny out, and Jay arrives just in time to prop Will up on the other side.
“Oh, I’ve got this,” Ginny tells him quickly while Will tries to get a look at him. “He said he wanted to spend the night with me.”
Ginny probably thinks this means she’s going to get laid, but he’s pretty sure Will just doesn’t want to see him. He forces himself to smile. “Well, that’s too bad since I’m taking him upstairs,” he says. “As his brother and a cop, I think I win here.”
Ginny glares at him. “I don’t think he wants anything to do with you.”
Will’s head tips back and he laughs excessively, his body threatening to tip backward.
“Again, I’m his brother and you’ve known him for about six hours,” Jay points out. “Besides, he’s not sober enough to do anything anyway. You really want to clean up his vomit in the morning?”
Given Ginny’s immaculate hair and makeup and the fit of her dress, this point is compelling. She eases back, letting Jay take on all of Will’s weight. “Whatever,” she says, sounding put out now. “Tell him he can call me.”
Jay hoists his brother up, even as he giggles again, head tipping back forward as he staggers for a moment, slumping against Jay and quickly righting himself.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Jay says, offering the lie without any nuance attached. Because the last thing Will actually wants is a one-night stand. He’s been fumbling for a relationship, and this girl? Jay’s pretty sure she isn’t looking to settle down. At least not with half drunk medical salespeople she meets with her boss at a convention. “Thanks for your help.”
He offers the thanks as a token, but she’s already gone.
Jay sighs, looking at his brother as he tries to stabilize him.
“Did you send her away?” Will asks, looking at him quizzically.
“Yeah,” Jay says. “I sent her away.”
“But - why?” Will asks. “She’s nice.”
“And you’re drunk,” Jay points out. “She doesn’t deserve a drunk guy.”
Will tries to consider that, but he seems to fail. Jay lets him make the effort as he starts them toward the elevators.
“What are you doing?” Will slurs, his uncoordinated movements difficult for either of them to control.
“Staying,” Jay tells him, gritting his teeth and dragging him toward the elevator. “Staying.”
-o-
It’s no small feat getting Will back to his room. Will is not particularly cooperative and between fits of giggling and falling asleep against the elevator wall, it’s up to Jay to find Will’s room key in his wallet and get them back to the room without falling over. Will is a sloppy drunk, and he’s bigger than Jay is. This only makes the unsavory task less desirable than it is.
And this is unsavory. Jay had to overpay for a plane ticket to track his idiot brother down. Now, said idiot is drunk, which makes him even more of an idiot and as Jay finally hauls his sorry ass into the room, he wonders what the hell hebhopes to accomplish.
With one look, it’s clear that Will is worse off than he allowed himself to consider. It’s not just the unreturned texts or the uncharacteristic schmoozing, it’s not the drinking or the women. The truth of his brother's condition is right here, in the unkempt hotel room.
Trash is filling the bins, takeout cartons and snacks from the vending machine. There are company pamphlets and free samples everywhere, and Will’s suitcase is splayed open on the ground. The clothing is crumpled, and if it’s clean or dirty is anyone’s guess.
It’s not the mess, though.
It’s the utter loneliness of it all.
There’s nothing personal to Will here. There’s no sign of connection or even a hobby. Will’s living at the party because there’s nothing here for him to come back to.
That’s why Jay came.
Because Will doesn’t belong in this room and they both know it. He just needs to convince his brother there’s still a place that wants him back in Chicago, back home.
And Jay’s angry. Jay’s pissed and he’s annoyed, but he remembers that Will never runs unless he thinks he has to. He ran away to college because his father’s pressure to get a real job was too much. He ran away to Africa when he realized his grades would never be enough to get him where he wanted to go. He ran to New York when he was scared that working there would just get him an early grave. And he ran from New York when his ability to play a bigwig finally ran thin.
He runs from his problems.
Not from his success.
Will deserves some judgement here.
But he needs compassion more.
He navigates around the mess and deposits Will on the closest bed. It’s still unmade from the morning, which means Will’s gone so far as to decline maid service. He’ll cite privacy; Jay knows it’s probably shame.
This suspicion is confirmed when Will looks at him from the bed, red eyes strained and confused. “I don’t know why you’re bothering,” he says. “You shouldn’t.”
Jay keeps a steady hand on his brother’s shoulder for fear Will might topple over for his lack of stability. “You’re my brother,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I bother?”
He’s hoping the appeal to family will be self evident, even in Will’s current state. But he shakes his head, clearly more miserable than ever. “I’m not worth it,” he says, stringing the words together in a rush. He looks down, shoulders slumping. He seems stable enough and Jay lets go, kneeling down to take off his brother’s shoes. “You should fire me, too. As a brother. Fired!”
He throws the shoes to the side and sighs. “It doesn’t work that way.
“It could, though,” Will says. “It should.”
It’s suddenly hard to be mad at him. Will’s stupid, and Will’s an idiot, and Will’s hurting just as much as anyone right now. He’s scared, and he’s alone, and all this time he’s been running and no one’s ever come after him before.
It sucks to be left behind.
It sucks when no one tells you they miss you.
He lays Will down, tucks him in. “Get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“You’re staying?” Will asks.
Jay nods. “I’m staying.”
-o-
Will’s asleep - passed out, might be a more accurate term - the second his head hits the pillow. Jay, however, finds sleep more elusive.
Will’s got a big enough room. There’s a second bed, and it’s not hard to clear the junk from it. He’s packed light for the trip himself with nothing but a go-to duffle bag filled with toiletries and one day’s worth of clothes. He brushes his teeth, but that’s about all he can do. He settles down but, for as tired as he is, he doesn’t want to sleep.
Hell, he finds he can’t sleep.
What if he can’t fix this? What if he doesn’t know what to say to bring Will home? What if he can’t give Will the support he needs? What if all Will can do is run? What if Jay should let him?
These old habits die hard, and they don’t form without reason. It occurs to him the reason Will runs is because he tries in the first place. Jay usually doesn’t bother, he just severs ties when it’s most convenient, and he never gets in so deep.
Not like now.
Now he’s so invested that it’s terrifying. The reality of failure is daunting, and he’s struck with the impulse to run for the first time in his life.
The truth is they’re not so dissimilar.
More than that, they need each other.
Jay stares at the ceiling, listening to his brother breathe.
If Jay can change, then there’s hope for Will yet.
-o-
Jay dozes off in the early morning, and he’s trapped in a dream when he’s awoken by the sound of retching. By the time he rouses, Will’s already in the bathroom, unceremoniously emptying the contents of his stomach in the most violent fashion imaginable.
This continues for several, long minutes, and Jay is sitting up in bed by the time Will miserably slinks back out. He looks at Jay with no sign of recognition, and without a word, he flops back on the bed, seemingly ready to pass out again.
Jay’s not inclined to let this happen. On his feet, he crosses over to his brother. “No, no more sleep,” he says. “It’s time to get up.”
Will throws an arm over his face. “I don’t want to get up,” he mumbles.
Jay picks up the arm and throws it clear. “I didn’t ask you wanted to,” he says while Will winces. “Get up.”
He yanks Will up until his brother is sitting. He thinks Will might hurl again, but his brother keeps it together, however precariously he’s perched on the edge of the bed now.
Jay smirks despite himself. “How are you doing?”
Will gives him a scathing look, though it lacks some bite. Will’s clearly still too tired to be a formidable threat here. “Terrible,” he says without pretense. He squints at Jay. “What are you even doing here?”
Jay, having come so far and spent so much to find Will like this, takes some comfort in his brother’s obvious discomfort. “Looking for you,” he says, allowing himself some smugness. He tips his head toward Will. “You told me you were only going to be gone for two weeks.”
Will wrinkles his nose. “I was.”
Jay doesn’t have the patience to be expectant. “Well, hate to break it to you, but it’s been a month.”
Will makes a face. He clearly wants to pass out again, but he’s retained just enough of his dignity to avoid doing so in front of Jay. “So?”
Jay finds this answer worthy of incredulity. “So,” Jay says, emphasizing his words. “What are you even doing here?”
Will lifts one shoulder. It seems to be all the strength he can muster. “Consulting,” he says. “It pays well.”
Jay draws his brows together, still feeling like he’s missing some pieces to the story here. “But you were hired to consult in New York.”
“Yeah, and they liked me,” Will says, as if that’s a particularly salient point. “So they offered me a consulting stint at their sister clinic in Boston. Then, I got referred to - where are we?”
He looks around, suddenly confused.
Jay rolls his eyes, not sure if he’s more worried than he is annoyed at the moment. “Atlanta,” he says. “You’re in Atlanta, Will.”
“Atlanta,” Will repeats, as if he might have known that. “I mean, it pays well. They’re making it worth my while. And it’s work, so I don’t get what your deal is.”
Jay raises his eyebrows to express his abject skepticism. “Yeah, I can see you’re working real hard here, bro.”
Will straightens, finding something resembling resolve for a moment. “If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”
If Will thinks he’s going to call Jay’s bluff, he’s sadly mistaken. Jay knows why he’s here. He knows why Will’s here. Will’s keeping himself going with the promise of fast cash and cheap praise. The alcohol and the women probably don’t hurt either. It’s all a farce, though. Because Jay knows his brother. He knows what he’s doing, because Will does it every time he gets in trouble.
“You’re on the run,” he declares, leaving no room for argument in his tone.
Almost with comical precision, Will’s face contorts. “On the what?” he asks, as if he has no idea what Jay is saying. “Jay, I’m working. They’re paying me. That party? Was company sponsored.”
Those are the justifications Will uses on himself, and he’s probably strung out enough to think they might mean something. Jay, however, shakes his head. “No way, Will, you’re running,” he says. “Just like you always do.”
Will’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He’s momentarily flabbergasted, before he comes up with the only defense he can fathom. “That’s ridiculous.”
It is ridiculous, but not for the reasons Will is trying to protest. It’s ridiculous because it’s so damn true. “No, it’s not,” he says. “It’s what you do. You get scared and you run. You’ve been doing it since you were a kid. You did it in college. You did it in Africa. You did it in New York, and here you are, doing it again.”
Will scoffs, but there’s a small lilting hysterical sound in it. “I got fired.”
That argument lacks its emotional girth now. Jay shakes his head. “I’ve talked to Natalie, Will. She’s told you just like she’s told me. Goodwin will give you your job back if you ask.”
Will’s face contorts again, this time with a raw pride that’s been so badly damaged that Jay remembers why he came. This isn’t to accuse his brother of anything. It’s to bring him home.
“So I grovel?” Will asks, and his voice is cutting. The idea hurts him, more than he lets on. So much that he has to drink himself stupid just to stop feeling it. “I beg?”
Jay draws a breath and lets that point go. “So don’t take that job. Med’s not the only hospital. Take another job.”
Will scrubs a hand over his face with a groan. “I did,” he says, and he opens his eyes to look wearily at Jay. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Jay is tired by that excuse, and he’s traveled a long way. He hasn’t overpaid for a plane ticket just to have his brother brush him - and everything else - off. “A real job, Will,” he says. “You’re not even working here. You’re just partying. This is beyond stupid, even for you.”
He’s being plaintive, not harsh, but Will takes it indignantly. He puffs out his chest, as if being hungover and pathetic is somehow going to be imposing. “I’m having fun,” he insists.
It’s almost funny, the way he says it so passionately. Will’s passionate about a lot of things, blindly so. The more passionate he is, the blinder he can be. That’s how such a smart guy can do such dumb things like tank his own medical trial. Jay raises his eyebrows, and he calls the bluff. “Are you?”
It’s not a stellar comeback, but it doesn’t have to be. Confronted with the truth, Will visibly deflates. Shirking somewhat, his bravado falters. “Of course.”
Jay presses his advantage. “This doesn’t look like fun,” he says. He nods around at the mess of a hotel room. “This looks like you trying to forget. You trying to run again.”
Will flushes and he turns away, trying to hide it. He ends up sitting back down on the bed. “Whatever,” he mutters.
Jay still isn’t about to let it drop. “I’m serious,” he says. “I mean, you’ve been blowing me off. I had to fly thousands of miles to find you, and you’re drunk? You’re hooking up with girls who are too young for you? I’m worried about you, man.”
Will’s brow darkens, and he looks at Jay through hooded eyes. “I’m fine.”
That defense isn’t solely on Will. It’s a tried and true Halstead defense. Jay wonders if it sounds as stupid when he uses it. “You’re anything but fine,” he retorts, keeping his focus on Will for now. He’ll deal with his own crap later. Much later, if he can help it.
Will, however, sees his opening. His eyes narrow. “Oh, and you’re one to talk.”
Jay sighs. He should have seen that one coming. “Will, I’m doing fine, thank you. Not that you’ve been paying attention lately.”
Will lifts his chin, stubborn once more. “Are you?”
It’s not a turn that Jay’s going to let work. He crosses his arms firmly over his chest. “I’m not the one on the run, asshole.”
The reference seems to push Will to his breaking point. He gets up again, throwing his arms up. “I’m not on the run!”
Jay steps forward, unable to keep himself in check now as his own frustration hits a breaking point. “Then come home!”
Will turns, almost startled by the suggestion. His face flushes once more, and this time, his eyes turn bright. “Because there’s nothing for me,” he says, and the words sound bitter, almost caustic. “No job, no friends, no career, no-”
His voice breaks off finally, and the emotion chokes him. He looks down, face beet red now, as the shame, the hurt, is just too much.
And just like that, Jay knows he has him.
It’s not winning the argument.
It’s winning his brother back.
Will takes a gulping breath, making a valiant effort to collect himself. “I just - I don’t - I can’t-”
Jay steps forward, a little gentler now but no less insistent. “You can,” he says, and he shakes his head. “Will, it’s really not as bad as you think it is.”
The anger is gone. The stubborn pride has evaporated. When Will looks at him now, he looks broken. “Jay, it’s worse. I built so much back in Chicago, and I threw it away,” he says, and his breathing is growing heavy now as he shakes his head, eyes brimming. “I threw everything away.”
There’s no stopping it now. It’s not that Will’s too drunk or too sober. It’s not that he’s even too hung over or too strung out.
It’s just that the truth Will’s been running from, the one that sent him this far, is something he can’t outrun, no matter what he does.
Jay’s come all this way to get his brother.
His brother’s come all this way to get that.
The tears come fast and hard, but Will seems to catch himself, finding his control once more. He sniffles as he tapers off, and he’s clearly miserable.
And now, tear-stained on the bed, he’s also thoroughly embarrassed.
The Halsteads arep prouder than they should be, and Jay knows it’s a tenuous thing. Will talks like his career has been ruined, but that can be salvaged. The real hit came to Will’s pride. And that, by the looks of it, is going to be harder to piece back together. “I’m sorry,” Will says miserably. He sighs, wiping at his eyes in vain. “Look at me.”
Jay is plaintive in return. “I am looking at you,” he says. “I came all this way.”
Will scoffs, but it’s a messy, wet sound. “Why the hell would you do that?”
It’s saturated with self loathing now, and Jay forgives the self pity as a momentary weakness his brother is allowed at the moment. Will doesn’t need his reprimands anymore. Will just needs his support. “Because it’s not as bad as you think,” Jay says. He points at his brother. “You’re not as bad as you think.”
Tears drying, Will looks at him quizzically. “How do you figure that?”
“Because the only thing you’re running from is yourself. You can get another job - the one at Med or something else. It doesn’t matter. Your career has had a hiccup, sure, but it’s not torched,” Jay says. “And Nat’s leaving soon and she wants you to be there. Hell, everyone wants you back. They all miss you, and everyone knows what you did, you did for Nat. They wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
Will takes that, and this time he seems to listen to it. He’s reluctant, but he doesn’t say anything.
Jay sighs. He’s reluctant to, for this last bit. But he’s spent the money. He’s taken the time. He’s here.
He might as well tell the truth.
“And I miss you, okay?” Jay says, and he forces himself to keep talking, even as his own cheeks start to flush now.. “I want you back home.”
Will blinks at him, clearly taken aback. “Jay-”
Jay shakes his head, plunging on. “And I get it, you’re scared. You’re embarrassed. You’re whatever,” he says. “But you can’t outrun it. Soon or later, you just have to face it, and then you’ll see what I’m telling you is true. It’s got to be better than…this.”
He nodes around at Will’s pathetic hotel room, lined with empty bottles of alcohol and a mess of dirty clothes.
Sheepish once more, something solidifies in his brother’s face. He gets to his feet, much less shaky than before. He nods. “All right,” he agrees. “No more running.”
Relief unfurls in Jay’s gut, and he feels himself relax.
Will hesitates, though. One more time. “But you’ll come with me, right?” he asks. “When I go back.”
Jay chuckles, reaching out and clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why I bought two plane tickets for the way back.”
Will’s eyes widen. “You already bought the ticket?”
Jay shrugs. “You’re not the hard to figure out, dude,” he says.
“You really think I can do this?”
Jay draws back, shrugging once more. “I bought the ticket, didn’t I?”
Because hope, in the end, is stronger than belief.
Will starts to grin. “You’ve never chased me down before,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
Jay grunts. “You’re not the only one with some growing up to do,” he admits. “But are you ready to go?”
Will looks around again, the regret still palpable. He draws a long, slow breath, and lets it out. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I have to clean up this mess, though.”
Jay picks up a few items of dirty clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase. “Then it’s a good thing I came all this way to help.”
Will picks up a few items of his own. “Yeah,” he agrees, and they’re working in tandem finally, making short work of the mess. They’re always better, the two of them. Together. Will nods and smiles as he looks at his brother. “I guess it is.”
-o-
Will’s been running for weeks now, as far and as fast as he can. The choice to stop isn’t easy, but it’s easier than he let himself think it’d be. He doesn’t have that much stuff to pack, and there’s not that many ties to cut. He pays his hotel bill and calls his boss, telling her he won’t be flying to Dallas after all. She makes it a big to-do on the phone, but Will’s able to stand his ground.
With Jay waiting for him, Will figures he better stand his ground or his brother will kick his ass.
That’s not really the thing, though. No matter how far Will runs, the past is always going to be right there, waiting for reconciliation. The mistakes he’s made. The people he’s left behind. The pieces of the life he destroyed. It’s all still there. Running away doesn’t change that, but facing it just might.
Now, Will’s pretty sure he can’t do it alone.
In fact, he knows he can’t.
The last few weeks are a testament to how well Will handles things by himself.
But he’s not alone.
He looks next to him, buckled in next to him in the plane back to Chicago. Jay’s reading the in-flight magazine, humming absently to himself. The plane bobbles over a patch of turbulence, and Will finds himself smiling.
He’s not going back alone.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Set post S6 and before S7. It’s not technically AU, though I doubt this is what canon believes happened. Unbeta'ed.
Summary: With no job, no girlfriend, and no other ties to Chicago, Will’s just a flight risk.
-o-
When Will finally gets home from the hospital, all he can do is sit there and think how he’s been here before.
Alone - check.
Miserable - check.
Jobless - check.
Disgraced and embarrassed - check and check.
The sense of dejavu is horribly unpleasant, and he teeters on the verge of despair before he remembers.
He’s been here before.
He knows exactly what he needs to do. Sure, he’d thought he’d changed in the last five years at Med, but clearly not. Maybe people can’t change. Maybe that’s just an illusion. Maybe he’s just been putting off the inevitable.
He’s been here before.
So he does the only thing he knows to do, the only thing he’s always done.
Will Halstead runs.
From his responsibilities. From his consequences. From his shame and guilt. From everyone who ever cared about him.
Will picks up, packs his bags, takes the first job that will have him, and runs like hell.
-o-
It’s not running, he tells himself.
It’s not.
He’s been fired. He needs a job.
So, Will finds a job.
He finds the first job that will take him. The flashiest, stupidest kind of job he can. He gets a job where his medical skills are secondary, but the fact that he smiles nice and makes good small talk matters a hell of a lot.
Medical consulting, they call it.
He’s offered a trial position at a clinic just outside of St. Louis for a weekend. When he smashes that, they fly in out to Denver for three days. Before he knows it, he’s in New York. He starts losing track of it after that. Between the nameless executives he can’t remember and the company parties he goes to, it starts to blur together. They’re paying him, though.
And people love him.
He makes them laugh.
He makes them shell out their cash.
Will’s good at it.
He needs to be good at something. So he sells the company line. He drinks the booze. He sleeps with the administrative assistants. One city to the next, to the next. There are fifteen messages from Jay, but he stopped checking after landing in Atlanta.
He’s not running, see.
It’s just that he’s not exactly looking back either.
If he goes far enough, he thinks, when he does look back, there’ll be nothing there to see.
-o-
Jay’s worried.
He’s got enough on his plate as it is, what with Hailey acting all weird and Voight being Voight. Crime in Chicago never takes a holiday, and Jay’s spent, okay? He’s not sure he wants to work for Voight, and he’s not sure what’s up with Hailey, and where the hell is Will?
It seems like that shouldn’t be an issue. Will’s a grown man, and Jay’s never pretended to be his brother’s keeper. They’ve had their ups and downs over the years, and Jay hasn’t really thought about it, but lately it’s been an up.
And more than that, Jay likes the up. He likes his brother. He likes having his brother in Chicago. After all these years, he’s finally allowed himself to believe that Will has finally changed.
So what does he do?
He goes and gets fired.
Now, Jay had been worried when Will told him. He’d tried to reassure his brother that they’d get through it, that Jay would always be there for him. There were lots of fish in the sea, so to speak. An ED doctor was always in high demand, especially during a pandemic.
He’d thought his appeal was compassionate and pragmatic; he’d thought it might work.
Until Will had packed a bag and said he had a job to go to.
“Just for the weekend,” he’d said.
That was a month ago.
He hadn’t been home since.
At first, Will’d done an okay job keeping in touch. They’d texted; they’d talked. They’d kept up on things. But as Will flitted from city to city, the messages grew sporadic. He stopped answering his phone. The last he’d heard was that he was leaving New York and that his next stop was in Atlanta.
That’d been a week ago.
Not a word from Will since.
At first, Jay had tried to just stop calling. Give Will some space.
That had lasted about a day.
Then, he’d tracked his brother’s phone. It was still active, and with some sleuthing, it’d been easy to trace his brother’s movement across the country. He was staying at some damn Marriott in Atlanta at a week-long medical consulting conference. In other words, his brother had gone from ED doc to overpriced salesman.
And he’s not answering his damn phone.
Finally, Hailey sighs in exasperation as Jay texts Will for the 20th time. “Just go get him.”
“What?” Jay asks, taken aback.
She makes a gesture toward the door. “Go get your brother. You know where he is. So buy a ticket, find him, and drag his ass back home.”
It’s so plaintive that Jay gapes at her, struggling to find the appropriate objection. “I can’t do that.”
“You can,” she says. “And I know you want to.”
He’s defensive now. “But Will won’t like it.”
“So?” she asks. “I thought that’s the point. We’re not trusting Will’s judgement.”
Jay shakes his head. He’s resolute. “It’s none of my business.”
She rolls her eyes. “Look, you tell me all the time that when Will’s hurt, he runs. That’s just what he does.”
Jay frowns, not sure what her point is. “Yeah.”
She shrugs. “And you, when you’re hurt, you hold a grudge. You hold it inside and let it turn to resentment.”
That’s annoying insightful. If he didn’t love her so damn much, she’d be positively insufferable. “It’s not my job to bring him home.”
“No,” she says. “But if you want him to break his bad habits, maybe you start by breaking yours. It’ll be better for both of you, in the end.”
-o-
In the end, there’s really no way around it. Hailey’s advice isn’t so much prudent as it is essential, and Jay recognizes that if he wants to stop his brother from running, then he’s going to have to chase him.
It’s a novelty. All the times Will’s cut and run, and Jay’s always let him. He’s played it safe on the homefront, nursing his wounds while his brother flits about. After enough time, it’s easy to stop seeing why he left. Instead, he fixates on how much it hurts.
But the why matters. Will runs when he’s scared, and getting fired? After all those years at Med?
It stands to reason that Will’s pretty damn scared. With no job, no girlfriend, and no other ties to Chicago, Will’s just a flight risk.
Which is silly. It’s not as bad as Will thinks it is. Jay’s been here the whole time, and he’s talked to the people at Med. Everyone misses Will. Everyone’s stood up for him. Hell, Maggie’s ready to canonize him for protecting Natalie, and Natalie insists, again and again, that Goodwin will talk if Will comes back.
The problem is that none of it’s easy. It requires Will to swallow his pride and face his fears.
Two things that Will’s never done before.
But if Jay can get on a plane to drag his brother home, then he’ll make sure Will does the rest.
At least, that’s the plan.
If he doesn’t want to kick his brother’s ass first for being such an unequivocal asshole.
He’s going to find his brother. He’s going to bring him home.
Either by hugging him or punching him the first.
It’s a fifty-fifty proposition, how this goes.
The result, though, Jay promises himself.
He comes home with Will.
Or he doesn’t come home at all.
-o-
He lands in Atlanta, and traffic’s a mess. It’s a pain in the ass to get out of there, and it’s hours before he arrives at Will’s hotel. He’s already pulled his police contacts to confirm Will’s staying here, but he’ll still have to go to the desk unless he plans on breaking into Will’s room.
He’s waiting in line, working up his most polite smile, when he sees the sign up the way.
Atlanta Medical Providers Conference: Hassian Technologies.
It’s a sign directed at the ballroom, and Jay watches for a moment as people filter in and out. They’re all dressed for a party, and the party, it seems, is in full gear.
Back in Chicago, Will had been bad with the rich donors and the hobnobbing. But this is the guy who went into private practice in New York - as a plastic surgeon. Will’s settled down a lot in Chicago, but before that? He’d never settled down. All the girls, all the partying - Will had left it behind when he came home.
But they’re not at home anymore.
Running away isn’t about going to another city or another state or even another continent.
Running away is about finding ways not to face yourself. Jay’s good with denial, thank you very much. Will’s much better with obfuscation.
If there’s enough noise, enough drink, enough kissing, then he doesn’t have to face it.
It’s a pity for Will, then.
Because he’s run pretty damn far.
But Jay’s run just as far to find him.
One of them is going to be successful tonight, and Jay’s banking on himself this time.
-o-
It’s not hard to get into the party, despite the fact that it’s by invite only. The girl checking names is effusive and polite, explaining that they have some very high profile clients right now, and she really can’t break protocol.
Jay shows her his badge, and it’s flashy enough to do the trick. She doesn’t think twice about jurisdiction, and she lets him in regardless.
Will’s at the bar
Talking to some people
Making his pitch
Explaining how workflow should hpapen in the ED
One of the men rolls his eyes “You’ve already close the sale. You don’t need to keep on about it.”
“Oh, this isn’t just a sale,” Will says. “The efficiency of your ED affects everything. Your doctors, your nurses, your patient-”
“The bottom line,” the man croons, eliciting raucous laughter from the small crowd.
Will flushes, but he pulls back.
“Come on, come on,” the man says, waving at the bartender. “Another round! Ginny, help Dr. Halstead here get another round!”
Ginny is dressed in a slinky cocktail dress, and she produces a drink and a dazzling smile as she saunters up to Will. Will hesitates, but he looks at Ginny, he looks at the drink, and he takes it anyway. Will thinks he can keep running tonight.
Well, Will’s about to get a big surprise.
-o-
Surprise isn’t quite the word for it.
When Will sees Jay, it’s clear he thinks he’s seeing things. Maybe he’s just that drunk. Maybe he’s just unable to fathom how Jay found him - or why.
At any rate, Will gawks, nearly spills his drink down the front of himself, and does a triple take before choking on his own breath, unable to speak as Jay comes up.
“Will,” he says. “Hi.”
It’s a kind of dumb thing to say, all things considered. Jay’s come halfway across the country to bring his idiot brother home, and he’s seething mad while Will is half drunk, and all Jay says is hi.
Will is equally dumbfounded. “I - what - what are you doing here?”
He’s fumbling, not sure what to do with the drink, the girl, or the gaggle of tipsy rich men he’s with.
Jay shrugs, nonchalant somehow. “Looking for you.”
Will, somehow, gapes with even more dramatic flair. “I - what?”
Ginny looks disconcerted, but the men harken a bit more readily. “A colleague of yours, Dr. Halstead?”
The formality of the title makes the whole situation feel even worse than it is.
Will reddens accordingly. “Uh, no,” he says, mustering up enough to face them, even as he keeps a wary eye on Jay. “It’s, uh. My brother.”
The word sounds funny. It’s imbued with doubt. Regret. Shame.
At least Will knows, on some level, that he’s an idiot.
“Your brother?” one of the men says. “Oh, is he a doctor, too? I don’t believe I’ve met him yet.”
It’s almost congenial, but it’s just all wrong. Jay flattens his lips and doesn’t allow himself to smile as he addresses the man. “No, I’m a cop,” he says, and he looks back at Will. “And I’ve got to talk to my brother.”
Jay knows he doesn’t look particularly formidable at first glance. He doesn’t have the gravitas of Voight by any means, but when he’s serious, he’s serious. And it’s not hard to tell.
These men, half drunk, rich idiots, are still keen enough to see that.
Subtlety is not what Jay’s going for right now.
The men mutter diffuse apologies and excuse themselves, and Ginny is the last to disentangle herself from Will’s arm with apparent regret. Will, still speechless, says nothing, and Jay drags him by the arm to the side of the room.
“What are you doing?” Will asks, pulling up short before Jay can forcibly remove him from the room altogether. He pulls his arm free and shakes his head. “Seriously, Jay. I don’t know how you found me or why, but I’m working here. I have a job.”
Jay can’t keep himself from scoffing. “Yeah, I think your job is done. No one is working here.”
It’s too flippant, and it hits Will too hard. His nostrils flare. “You don’t get to tell me when my job is done.”
Will’s banking hard on the facade of being a trained professional, which he was, for the record. He respected the hell out of his brother as a physician. But this? This wasn’t Will as a doctor. This was hardly Will at all. “I heard your friends talking,” he said, opting for reason now. “You made the sale. So, job done.”
Will’s too far down that road to stop now. He shakes his head, still stubborn. “But there’s more to it than that.”
Jay rolls his eyes. More to it like drinking and sleeping around. “Yeah, I think you should be done, man.”
He’s trying to keep this to Will’s imperative, but that ground is slipping away. He wants Will to come home willingly, sure. But mostly, he wants Will to come home. Jay’s come all this way, and Will makes his last stand. “You don’t know anything.”
Jay wishes that his brother could be right. It’d be easier. It would have spared him the plane ticket and this whole lost weekend. But this is his brother. And there’s nothing either of them can do about that. “I know you,” Jay says. “Better than I want to.”
Will scoffs and he looks away, as if to walk off. “Whatever-”
Jay grabs him by the arm, tugging him slightly once more. “Just come upstairs,” he says, softer now. “Let’s just talk about things. You know. Talk.”
It’s the kind of thing Will would have normally been all for, were Jay the one spiralling and Will the one intervening. However, Halsteads under pressure didn’t always act with common sense. He wonders fleetingly if he’s this annoying and he decides surely not.
Will’s face contorts. “Screw you,” he snaps. His eyes flash with dark skepticism. “You came all the way here just to talk?”
With a scoff, Jay shrugs. “Well, you didn’t answer your phone for a week.”
“Yeah, because maybe I don’t want to talk!” Will retorts.
There’s an unfortunate logic to that, and it stings more than Jay wants to admit. He knows Will doesn’t mean it - not really - but it still hurts. To come this far, to give up this much.
Just to have Will throw it back in his face.
He hates this. He hates it so damn much, and he hates the fact that he can’t bring himself to walk away even more. Running is Will’s thing, though.
Jay sees it through.
Even when it hurts.
Even when he doesn’t want to.
He gives his brother a derisive look. “I should just leave you here.”
This only triggers his brother’s defiance even more. “Then why don’t you?”
It’s a challenge, almost. But it’s a bluff, backed only by the vestiges of Will’s ruined pride.
Jay knows that, and Will needs his help.
If only he wasn’t such an asshole about it.
Hugs or punches, that’d been the question.
Fists curling, anger rising, at least Jay knows the answer.
Will is glaring at him, audaciously smug, and Jay throws the punch, planting it on his brother’s cheek. It’s not as hard as he can punch, but he’s not looking to hurt his brother. He just wants his brother to shut the hell up.
Will stumbles back a step, reeling. There’s a collective gasp from around the room, and people start to crowd in as Will straightens, hand cradling his cheek as he eyes Jay venomously. His lip is spilt, leaking a small trickle of blood.
Jay holds up his hands, mindful of his brother and the cries of newly concerned onlookers. “Just family business,” he says, by way of explanation to the crowd. Then, to Will, he adds, “I’ll be just outside. When you’re done in here, I’ll be waiting. No running.”
Will is mopping up at his split lip. “Just stalking, apparently,” he mutters.
Jay doesn’t deny it, hands still up as he pulls back and holds Will’s gaze so his brother understands. “No running.”
It’s a threat, maybe.
It’s more of a promise
-o-
There’s a restaurant across from the ballroom, and Jay takes up residence at the bar with a clear angle of the door. He figures it’s possible Will might try to sneak out a back entrance, but stealth isn’t one of his brother’s strong suits. Especially while inebriated. Will’s a runner in these situations, not a planner. That gives Jay a decided advantage.
Not that he’s sure he wants it anymore.
It’s stupid, after all.
He’s come all this way, and he’s drinking Pepsi at an overpriced hotel bar, and for what? For his brother?
Will’s a grown man. He can make his own choices, even if they’re bad choices. He’s being presumptuous to think he can tell his brother what to do - even if he’s sure he’s right. It’s stupid for him to pretend like he can make his brother do anything.
That said, Jay knows it’s stupid to do nothing, especially when he can see that the choices Will’s making aren’t choices that he’ll enjoy long-term. Will’s been happy in Chicago. It’s the longest he’s stayed anywhere. He’s made connections; he’s built a life. Just because things with Natalie didn’t work out didn’t mean Will had nothing. There were still people who cared about him - who would go to bat for him. Ethan would write him a reference. Dr. Charles would call in favors to get him hired somewhere new. Maggie would practically stalk potential employers to make sure he got a fair shake.
And everyone missed him. They all asked about him at Molly’s. Hailey had sent him here not just for Jay’s sake or even Will’s sake - but for her own. She liked him, too.
Will’s not just running, here. He’s imploding.
Jay has to stay.
If he lets this go on, it’s just going to get worse. And damn it, he cares about his brother. He does. He’s not just about to sit back and let this relationship deteriorate. He’s been here, done that. He let his old man die right in front of him without making amends.
You can’t run from your problems.
You also can’t pretend they don’t exist.
This time, they both have to stay and face whatever comes next.
-o-
By the time Will stumbles out of the hall, everyone else has nearly left. The bar is closing up, but they’ve agreed to let Jay stay when he flashed his badge and left a sizeable tip for the trouble. He’s about to go back in and see if Will’s snuck out another way when appears, plainly as drunk as Jay has ever seen him and leaning heavily on Ginny.
The rest of their menagerie had left an hour ago, and Jay’s seen some of the wait staff clear out as well. Will and Ginny must be close to the last ones out, and he suspects from the way Ginny is half carrying him that leaving was her idea. Will would have stayed in there forever to avoid Jay, and if he’d been smart enough not to get hammered, he might have been able to pull that off.
But Will’s the smartest guy Jay knows.
And the dumbest.
He’s the guy you trust to stitch up your bullet wound, but you should never turn to him for relationship advice under duress.
Will’s fumbling nearly takes Ginny out, and Jay arrives just in time to prop Will up on the other side.
“Oh, I’ve got this,” Ginny tells him quickly while Will tries to get a look at him. “He said he wanted to spend the night with me.”
Ginny probably thinks this means she’s going to get laid, but he’s pretty sure Will just doesn’t want to see him. He forces himself to smile. “Well, that’s too bad since I’m taking him upstairs,” he says. “As his brother and a cop, I think I win here.”
Ginny glares at him. “I don’t think he wants anything to do with you.”
Will’s head tips back and he laughs excessively, his body threatening to tip backward.
“Again, I’m his brother and you’ve known him for about six hours,” Jay points out. “Besides, he’s not sober enough to do anything anyway. You really want to clean up his vomit in the morning?”
Given Ginny’s immaculate hair and makeup and the fit of her dress, this point is compelling. She eases back, letting Jay take on all of Will’s weight. “Whatever,” she says, sounding put out now. “Tell him he can call me.”
Jay hoists his brother up, even as he giggles again, head tipping back forward as he staggers for a moment, slumping against Jay and quickly righting himself.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Jay says, offering the lie without any nuance attached. Because the last thing Will actually wants is a one-night stand. He’s been fumbling for a relationship, and this girl? Jay’s pretty sure she isn’t looking to settle down. At least not with half drunk medical salespeople she meets with her boss at a convention. “Thanks for your help.”
He offers the thanks as a token, but she’s already gone.
Jay sighs, looking at his brother as he tries to stabilize him.
“Did you send her away?” Will asks, looking at him quizzically.
“Yeah,” Jay says. “I sent her away.”
“But - why?” Will asks. “She’s nice.”
“And you’re drunk,” Jay points out. “She doesn’t deserve a drunk guy.”
Will tries to consider that, but he seems to fail. Jay lets him make the effort as he starts them toward the elevators.
“What are you doing?” Will slurs, his uncoordinated movements difficult for either of them to control.
“Staying,” Jay tells him, gritting his teeth and dragging him toward the elevator. “Staying.”
-o-
It’s no small feat getting Will back to his room. Will is not particularly cooperative and between fits of giggling and falling asleep against the elevator wall, it’s up to Jay to find Will’s room key in his wallet and get them back to the room without falling over. Will is a sloppy drunk, and he’s bigger than Jay is. This only makes the unsavory task less desirable than it is.
And this is unsavory. Jay had to overpay for a plane ticket to track his idiot brother down. Now, said idiot is drunk, which makes him even more of an idiot and as Jay finally hauls his sorry ass into the room, he wonders what the hell hebhopes to accomplish.
With one look, it’s clear that Will is worse off than he allowed himself to consider. It’s not just the unreturned texts or the uncharacteristic schmoozing, it’s not the drinking or the women. The truth of his brother's condition is right here, in the unkempt hotel room.
Trash is filling the bins, takeout cartons and snacks from the vending machine. There are company pamphlets and free samples everywhere, and Will’s suitcase is splayed open on the ground. The clothing is crumpled, and if it’s clean or dirty is anyone’s guess.
It’s not the mess, though.
It’s the utter loneliness of it all.
There’s nothing personal to Will here. There’s no sign of connection or even a hobby. Will’s living at the party because there’s nothing here for him to come back to.
That’s why Jay came.
Because Will doesn’t belong in this room and they both know it. He just needs to convince his brother there’s still a place that wants him back in Chicago, back home.
And Jay’s angry. Jay’s pissed and he’s annoyed, but he remembers that Will never runs unless he thinks he has to. He ran away to college because his father’s pressure to get a real job was too much. He ran away to Africa when he realized his grades would never be enough to get him where he wanted to go. He ran to New York when he was scared that working there would just get him an early grave. And he ran from New York when his ability to play a bigwig finally ran thin.
He runs from his problems.
Not from his success.
Will deserves some judgement here.
But he needs compassion more.
He navigates around the mess and deposits Will on the closest bed. It’s still unmade from the morning, which means Will’s gone so far as to decline maid service. He’ll cite privacy; Jay knows it’s probably shame.
This suspicion is confirmed when Will looks at him from the bed, red eyes strained and confused. “I don’t know why you’re bothering,” he says. “You shouldn’t.”
Jay keeps a steady hand on his brother’s shoulder for fear Will might topple over for his lack of stability. “You’re my brother,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I bother?”
He’s hoping the appeal to family will be self evident, even in Will’s current state. But he shakes his head, clearly more miserable than ever. “I’m not worth it,” he says, stringing the words together in a rush. He looks down, shoulders slumping. He seems stable enough and Jay lets go, kneeling down to take off his brother’s shoes. “You should fire me, too. As a brother. Fired!”
He throws the shoes to the side and sighs. “It doesn’t work that way.
“It could, though,” Will says. “It should.”
It’s suddenly hard to be mad at him. Will’s stupid, and Will’s an idiot, and Will’s hurting just as much as anyone right now. He’s scared, and he’s alone, and all this time he’s been running and no one’s ever come after him before.
It sucks to be left behind.
It sucks when no one tells you they miss you.
He lays Will down, tucks him in. “Get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“You’re staying?” Will asks.
Jay nods. “I’m staying.”
-o-
Will’s asleep - passed out, might be a more accurate term - the second his head hits the pillow. Jay, however, finds sleep more elusive.
Will’s got a big enough room. There’s a second bed, and it’s not hard to clear the junk from it. He’s packed light for the trip himself with nothing but a go-to duffle bag filled with toiletries and one day’s worth of clothes. He brushes his teeth, but that’s about all he can do. He settles down but, for as tired as he is, he doesn’t want to sleep.
Hell, he finds he can’t sleep.
What if he can’t fix this? What if he doesn’t know what to say to bring Will home? What if he can’t give Will the support he needs? What if all Will can do is run? What if Jay should let him?
These old habits die hard, and they don’t form without reason. It occurs to him the reason Will runs is because he tries in the first place. Jay usually doesn’t bother, he just severs ties when it’s most convenient, and he never gets in so deep.
Not like now.
Now he’s so invested that it’s terrifying. The reality of failure is daunting, and he’s struck with the impulse to run for the first time in his life.
The truth is they’re not so dissimilar.
More than that, they need each other.
Jay stares at the ceiling, listening to his brother breathe.
If Jay can change, then there’s hope for Will yet.
-o-
Jay dozes off in the early morning, and he’s trapped in a dream when he’s awoken by the sound of retching. By the time he rouses, Will’s already in the bathroom, unceremoniously emptying the contents of his stomach in the most violent fashion imaginable.
This continues for several, long minutes, and Jay is sitting up in bed by the time Will miserably slinks back out. He looks at Jay with no sign of recognition, and without a word, he flops back on the bed, seemingly ready to pass out again.
Jay’s not inclined to let this happen. On his feet, he crosses over to his brother. “No, no more sleep,” he says. “It’s time to get up.”
Will throws an arm over his face. “I don’t want to get up,” he mumbles.
Jay picks up the arm and throws it clear. “I didn’t ask you wanted to,” he says while Will winces. “Get up.”
He yanks Will up until his brother is sitting. He thinks Will might hurl again, but his brother keeps it together, however precariously he’s perched on the edge of the bed now.
Jay smirks despite himself. “How are you doing?”
Will gives him a scathing look, though it lacks some bite. Will’s clearly still too tired to be a formidable threat here. “Terrible,” he says without pretense. He squints at Jay. “What are you even doing here?”
Jay, having come so far and spent so much to find Will like this, takes some comfort in his brother’s obvious discomfort. “Looking for you,” he says, allowing himself some smugness. He tips his head toward Will. “You told me you were only going to be gone for two weeks.”
Will wrinkles his nose. “I was.”
Jay doesn’t have the patience to be expectant. “Well, hate to break it to you, but it’s been a month.”
Will makes a face. He clearly wants to pass out again, but he’s retained just enough of his dignity to avoid doing so in front of Jay. “So?”
Jay finds this answer worthy of incredulity. “So,” Jay says, emphasizing his words. “What are you even doing here?”
Will lifts one shoulder. It seems to be all the strength he can muster. “Consulting,” he says. “It pays well.”
Jay draws his brows together, still feeling like he’s missing some pieces to the story here. “But you were hired to consult in New York.”
“Yeah, and they liked me,” Will says, as if that’s a particularly salient point. “So they offered me a consulting stint at their sister clinic in Boston. Then, I got referred to - where are we?”
He looks around, suddenly confused.
Jay rolls his eyes, not sure if he’s more worried than he is annoyed at the moment. “Atlanta,” he says. “You’re in Atlanta, Will.”
“Atlanta,” Will repeats, as if he might have known that. “I mean, it pays well. They’re making it worth my while. And it’s work, so I don’t get what your deal is.”
Jay raises his eyebrows to express his abject skepticism. “Yeah, I can see you’re working real hard here, bro.”
Will straightens, finding something resembling resolve for a moment. “If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”
If Will thinks he’s going to call Jay’s bluff, he’s sadly mistaken. Jay knows why he’s here. He knows why Will’s here. Will’s keeping himself going with the promise of fast cash and cheap praise. The alcohol and the women probably don’t hurt either. It’s all a farce, though. Because Jay knows his brother. He knows what he’s doing, because Will does it every time he gets in trouble.
“You’re on the run,” he declares, leaving no room for argument in his tone.
Almost with comical precision, Will’s face contorts. “On the what?” he asks, as if he has no idea what Jay is saying. “Jay, I’m working. They’re paying me. That party? Was company sponsored.”
Those are the justifications Will uses on himself, and he’s probably strung out enough to think they might mean something. Jay, however, shakes his head. “No way, Will, you’re running,” he says. “Just like you always do.”
Will’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He’s momentarily flabbergasted, before he comes up with the only defense he can fathom. “That’s ridiculous.”
It is ridiculous, but not for the reasons Will is trying to protest. It’s ridiculous because it’s so damn true. “No, it’s not,” he says. “It’s what you do. You get scared and you run. You’ve been doing it since you were a kid. You did it in college. You did it in Africa. You did it in New York, and here you are, doing it again.”
Will scoffs, but there’s a small lilting hysterical sound in it. “I got fired.”
That argument lacks its emotional girth now. Jay shakes his head. “I’ve talked to Natalie, Will. She’s told you just like she’s told me. Goodwin will give you your job back if you ask.”
Will’s face contorts again, this time with a raw pride that’s been so badly damaged that Jay remembers why he came. This isn’t to accuse his brother of anything. It’s to bring him home.
“So I grovel?” Will asks, and his voice is cutting. The idea hurts him, more than he lets on. So much that he has to drink himself stupid just to stop feeling it. “I beg?”
Jay draws a breath and lets that point go. “So don’t take that job. Med’s not the only hospital. Take another job.”
Will scrubs a hand over his face with a groan. “I did,” he says, and he opens his eyes to look wearily at Jay. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Jay is tired by that excuse, and he’s traveled a long way. He hasn’t overpaid for a plane ticket just to have his brother brush him - and everything else - off. “A real job, Will,” he says. “You’re not even working here. You’re just partying. This is beyond stupid, even for you.”
He’s being plaintive, not harsh, but Will takes it indignantly. He puffs out his chest, as if being hungover and pathetic is somehow going to be imposing. “I’m having fun,” he insists.
It’s almost funny, the way he says it so passionately. Will’s passionate about a lot of things, blindly so. The more passionate he is, the blinder he can be. That’s how such a smart guy can do such dumb things like tank his own medical trial. Jay raises his eyebrows, and he calls the bluff. “Are you?”
It’s not a stellar comeback, but it doesn’t have to be. Confronted with the truth, Will visibly deflates. Shirking somewhat, his bravado falters. “Of course.”
Jay presses his advantage. “This doesn’t look like fun,” he says. He nods around at the mess of a hotel room. “This looks like you trying to forget. You trying to run again.”
Will flushes and he turns away, trying to hide it. He ends up sitting back down on the bed. “Whatever,” he mutters.
Jay still isn’t about to let it drop. “I’m serious,” he says. “I mean, you’ve been blowing me off. I had to fly thousands of miles to find you, and you’re drunk? You’re hooking up with girls who are too young for you? I’m worried about you, man.”
Will’s brow darkens, and he looks at Jay through hooded eyes. “I’m fine.”
That defense isn’t solely on Will. It’s a tried and true Halstead defense. Jay wonders if it sounds as stupid when he uses it. “You’re anything but fine,” he retorts, keeping his focus on Will for now. He’ll deal with his own crap later. Much later, if he can help it.
Will, however, sees his opening. His eyes narrow. “Oh, and you’re one to talk.”
Jay sighs. He should have seen that one coming. “Will, I’m doing fine, thank you. Not that you’ve been paying attention lately.”
Will lifts his chin, stubborn once more. “Are you?”
It’s not a turn that Jay’s going to let work. He crosses his arms firmly over his chest. “I’m not the one on the run, asshole.”
The reference seems to push Will to his breaking point. He gets up again, throwing his arms up. “I’m not on the run!”
Jay steps forward, unable to keep himself in check now as his own frustration hits a breaking point. “Then come home!”
Will turns, almost startled by the suggestion. His face flushes once more, and this time, his eyes turn bright. “Because there’s nothing for me,” he says, and the words sound bitter, almost caustic. “No job, no friends, no career, no-”
His voice breaks off finally, and the emotion chokes him. He looks down, face beet red now, as the shame, the hurt, is just too much.
And just like that, Jay knows he has him.
It’s not winning the argument.
It’s winning his brother back.
Will takes a gulping breath, making a valiant effort to collect himself. “I just - I don’t - I can’t-”
Jay steps forward, a little gentler now but no less insistent. “You can,” he says, and he shakes his head. “Will, it’s really not as bad as you think it is.”
The anger is gone. The stubborn pride has evaporated. When Will looks at him now, he looks broken. “Jay, it’s worse. I built so much back in Chicago, and I threw it away,” he says, and his breathing is growing heavy now as he shakes his head, eyes brimming. “I threw everything away.”
There’s no stopping it now. It’s not that Will’s too drunk or too sober. It’s not that he’s even too hung over or too strung out.
It’s just that the truth Will’s been running from, the one that sent him this far, is something he can’t outrun, no matter what he does.
Jay’s come all this way to get his brother.
His brother’s come all this way to get that.
The tears come fast and hard, but Will seems to catch himself, finding his control once more. He sniffles as he tapers off, and he’s clearly miserable.
And now, tear-stained on the bed, he’s also thoroughly embarrassed.
The Halsteads arep prouder than they should be, and Jay knows it’s a tenuous thing. Will talks like his career has been ruined, but that can be salvaged. The real hit came to Will’s pride. And that, by the looks of it, is going to be harder to piece back together. “I’m sorry,” Will says miserably. He sighs, wiping at his eyes in vain. “Look at me.”
Jay is plaintive in return. “I am looking at you,” he says. “I came all this way.”
Will scoffs, but it’s a messy, wet sound. “Why the hell would you do that?”
It’s saturated with self loathing now, and Jay forgives the self pity as a momentary weakness his brother is allowed at the moment. Will doesn’t need his reprimands anymore. Will just needs his support. “Because it’s not as bad as you think,” Jay says. He points at his brother. “You’re not as bad as you think.”
Tears drying, Will looks at him quizzically. “How do you figure that?”
“Because the only thing you’re running from is yourself. You can get another job - the one at Med or something else. It doesn’t matter. Your career has had a hiccup, sure, but it’s not torched,” Jay says. “And Nat’s leaving soon and she wants you to be there. Hell, everyone wants you back. They all miss you, and everyone knows what you did, you did for Nat. They wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
Will takes that, and this time he seems to listen to it. He’s reluctant, but he doesn’t say anything.
Jay sighs. He’s reluctant to, for this last bit. But he’s spent the money. He’s taken the time. He’s here.
He might as well tell the truth.
“And I miss you, okay?” Jay says, and he forces himself to keep talking, even as his own cheeks start to flush now.. “I want you back home.”
Will blinks at him, clearly taken aback. “Jay-”
Jay shakes his head, plunging on. “And I get it, you’re scared. You’re embarrassed. You’re whatever,” he says. “But you can’t outrun it. Soon or later, you just have to face it, and then you’ll see what I’m telling you is true. It’s got to be better than…this.”
He nodes around at Will’s pathetic hotel room, lined with empty bottles of alcohol and a mess of dirty clothes.
Sheepish once more, something solidifies in his brother’s face. He gets to his feet, much less shaky than before. He nods. “All right,” he agrees. “No more running.”
Relief unfurls in Jay’s gut, and he feels himself relax.
Will hesitates, though. One more time. “But you’ll come with me, right?” he asks. “When I go back.”
Jay chuckles, reaching out and clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why I bought two plane tickets for the way back.”
Will’s eyes widen. “You already bought the ticket?”
Jay shrugs. “You’re not the hard to figure out, dude,” he says.
“You really think I can do this?”
Jay draws back, shrugging once more. “I bought the ticket, didn’t I?”
Because hope, in the end, is stronger than belief.
Will starts to grin. “You’ve never chased me down before,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
Jay grunts. “You’re not the only one with some growing up to do,” he admits. “But are you ready to go?”
Will looks around again, the regret still palpable. He draws a long, slow breath, and lets it out. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I have to clean up this mess, though.”
Jay picks up a few items of dirty clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase. “Then it’s a good thing I came all this way to help.”
Will picks up a few items of his own. “Yeah,” he agrees, and they’re working in tandem finally, making short work of the mess. They’re always better, the two of them. Together. Will nods and smiles as he looks at his brother. “I guess it is.”
-o-
Will’s been running for weeks now, as far and as fast as he can. The choice to stop isn’t easy, but it’s easier than he let himself think it’d be. He doesn’t have that much stuff to pack, and there’s not that many ties to cut. He pays his hotel bill and calls his boss, telling her he won’t be flying to Dallas after all. She makes it a big to-do on the phone, but Will’s able to stand his ground.
With Jay waiting for him, Will figures he better stand his ground or his brother will kick his ass.
That’s not really the thing, though. No matter how far Will runs, the past is always going to be right there, waiting for reconciliation. The mistakes he’s made. The people he’s left behind. The pieces of the life he destroyed. It’s all still there. Running away doesn’t change that, but facing it just might.
Now, Will’s pretty sure he can’t do it alone.
In fact, he knows he can’t.
The last few weeks are a testament to how well Will handles things by himself.
But he’s not alone.
He looks next to him, buckled in next to him in the plane back to Chicago. Jay’s reading the in-flight magazine, humming absently to himself. The plane bobbles over a patch of turbulence, and Will finds himself smiling.
He’s not going back alone.