Chicago Med fic: Restitution (3/10)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
For all that was currently going wrong in Will’s life, which was a lot, there was one saving grace. Somehow, while screwing up literally every other part of his life, Will had managed to not alienate his brother for once. He was very aware of this, especially since leaving Jay high and dry tended to be one of his coping mechanisms.
It was one reason he was scared to tell Jay about Africa.
But it was also why he resolved to enjoy himself, just this one night. Not even for his own sake, but for Jay’s. A testament to just how far they had come as brothers, family. Maybe if they had survived everything so far, then they might just survive this as well.
It was the main reason Will hadn’t completely fallen apart. He had to get himself together for Jay. He had to leave to be the brother Jay deserved.
It was a hard truth, one Will had resigned himself to. He would talk Jay into it, one way or another.
But tonight.
Tonight they played video games.
No girlfriends or uncertain relationships. No unresolved workplace drama.
Just two brothers and a PlayStation.
They started in on a baseball game, but spent the first 20 minutes arguing who got to be the White Sox. When they failed to resolve that, they both agreed to be different teams and widely argued about the National League against the American League. By the time they did play, Jay was the White Sox by a matter of convoluted logic, and Will agreed to play the Kansas City Royals.
As younger men, they had both played games, but Will had given it up a lot younger. While Jay hoarded his money in high school for a PlayStation, Will had saved up for a new guitar. That wasn’t to say that Will never played, but he hadn’t had much time for it in med school or residency. Moving as much as he did made it hard to keep hold of any system anyway. He had had a Wii but that had been lost somewhere between Africa and New York, and Will hadn’t bothered to replace it.
Which was all to say, Jay had a decided advantage. They used to play weekly, a matter of brotherly bonding, but the pandemic had made such things hard. It had fallen by the wayside, and Will regretted that it had taken so much to bring them back to the same couch, spending time together. For the first time in their lives, there was no animosity between them. The baggage had been cleared. The barriers had been put aside. They were brothers, then. Brothers finally.
Brother always.
About mid-way through their game, Jay got a call. He looked at his phone, and winced, before moving to put it aside.
Will knew better. “Who is it?”
“Eh, just Hailey,” Jay said. “You’re up, dude.”
Will didn’t press the button to bring his player to bat. “You can’t just eh Hailey. She’s your fiance.”
“Girlfriend.”
“She proposed, you accepted,” Will said. “For your sake, start saying fiance before she realizes you haven’t.”
Jay’s lips pursed together while the phone stopped ringing.
Will put his controller down. “You’re really not going to answer?”
“I’ll call her back,” Jay said. “We’re doing stuff.”
“We’re playing a video game,” Will said. “Call her back now.”
“Will--”
“One of us is alone and pathetic; the other doesn’t have to be,” he said. “Call her. We’ll pick it up when you’re done.”
Jay picked up his phone again, but hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I’m down 5 to 2,” he pointed out. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Jay was already pulling up his contact list. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said. “She probably just wants to check in.”
Will didn’t even reply as Jay disappeared into his bedroom, the door shutting behind him. He sat for a minute, staring at the screen. Finally, he put it on mute, reaching for his own phone out of habit. He started scrolling through the messages -- the ones he still couldn’t bring himself to read -- and felt his mood start to fall again.
Tossing the phone aside, Will slumped back onto the couch cushions. He sighed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what it was he was supposed to do with himself now. Figuring out his employment situation had been the only thing keeping him going. What else was there?
Beyond Jay -- what did he have?
Contacts he didn’t want to reply to?
Coworkers who couldn’t accept that he was gone?
A list of ex-girlfriends who all outclassed him?
His life was depressing, and it was more depressing because all of it -- every last bit -- was his own damn fault.
Sitting miserable, he heard Jay’s voice from the other room. It was muffled by the door, and his brother was clearly speaking quietly. Will could hear him anyway.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Just been doing stuff, you know?”
There was a pause, and then Jay continued.
“I know, I know,” he said, a little quieter now. “I miss you, too. It’s just family, you know? I mean, it’s just Will and me now -- I know.”
There was another silence, and Will felt tears burn in his eyes.
“Hailey, I know,” he said. “We’re working on it, I swear.”
The next pause was even shorter, and he could hear his brother pacing the floor.
“Why don’t you come over later?” he suggested, sounding almost hopeful. “Yeah, tomorrow works, too. We could hang out, or whatever. The three of us.”
He closed his eyes again, torn between pathetic misery and heartening love. It was a hell of a thing to have someone care about you as much as Jay cared about him. But, then again, here he was, a full grown man, being reduced to playing third wheel on his brother’s mature dating life.
More evidence that while everyone else grew up, Will just regressed.
Somehow, that made his sense of failure even more acute.
Jay was the only thing left for him in Chicago.
And Jay was the main reason left that he had to leave.
Because Jay was all he had.
And Jay deserved so much more than that.
-o-
Jay talked late, and Will made some pretense of playing on his phone so his brother wouldn’t think he’d been sitting there, depressed and feeling sorry for himself. Jay offered to finish the game, but Will claimed to be too tired, and he got ready for bed instead.
He was tired; he also wasn’t tired. It didn’t matter. Sleep was the only reprieve left to him.
That said, Will had never slept well on Jay’s couch. Despite his complaints over the years, it was still a crappy used couch that offered no lumbar support. And, Will was older than he used to be, so stuffing himself onto a cramped, old, deflated couch didn’t exactly make for prime sleeping conditions.
Not that he probably would have slept anyway.
Between leaving Med and the pending reply from Adam, Will had a lot on his mind. He kept going over it in his head, again and again.
What if he didn’t get the job offer? What if Africa was off the table? What would Will do then? Would he go grovelling back to Ms. Goodwin and make Jay happy? Or would he try other hospitals in Chicago? Would he head out to the suburbs? Try an urgent care clinic? Could he still find something in New York?
Alternatively, what if he did get the job offer? Was he really thinking about uprooting his entire life and heading back to Africa? Did he actually think he could still pull it off? He wasn’t a kid anymore -- he didn’t have the same drive, the same ambition. He didn’t even have the same stamina. The idea that he was going to successfully pull off this kind of transition was not a surefire bet. When he took the fellowship, he’d been riding high and at his prime.
Now, he was a washout. He was a screw up, a reject, a failure.
This wasn’t a power play now.
This was a move of last resort.
It reeked of desperation, no matter how he tried to spin it in his head.
And why not? Will was desperate, in a bleak, resigned sort of way. He knew that he was out of options. He knew that this would either save him or sink him.
Either way, it would be definitive.
Either way, Will stayed up all night, thinking, thinking, thinking.
Coming no closer to an answer either way.
-o-
He gave up the fight early, getting up and showering before Jay had even rolled out of bed. He was getting the coffee made while he scrolled through his phone when he saw the message in his email.
From Adam.
He froze for a second, not sure if he wanted to open it.
Not sure if he wanted to know.
But Will was too far down this road. He had no other places to go.
He clicked on the message.
Will! My friend, it was good to hear from you! Your resume looks to be in order, and even your reference was better than you made it out to be. I have talked to my superiors, and I am pleased to offer you the position of attending physician. You will be working for me as part of my staff. The other details are included in the offer for you to consider.
I just want to say, the position does not pay well. The position does not have prestige. You will work long hours and get few benefits. Honestly, I am not sure why you want this job at all, but it is yours, if you will have it.
Please! Let me know! The position starts next week, and there will be much paperwork to get in order, so the sooner the better!
Be well, my friend!
Sincerely,
Adam Goshit
That was it, then.
The decision was made.
Will was going to Africa.
-o-
Or was he?
Will made the coffee, and drank a cup, rereading the letter. He opened the attached offer, and he read that, too. He’d practically memorized it by the time Jay woke up an hour later, and the terms and conditions were rattling around inside his head while he made small talk with Jay over breakfast.
“What do you think you’ll do today?” Jay asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Will said with a shrug. He was trying to play it cool. He wasn’t sure he was pulling it off, but he was such a mess these days that Jay probably wasn’t going to notice right now. “Not much.”
Jay wrinkled his nose, chugging some of his orange juice. “Well, a job might be nice,” he said, as if Will hadn’t thought of that.
As if Will hadn’t memorized a job offer, which was sitting on his phone in his email right next to him on the table.
As if.
He attempted to smile. “I know,” he said. “I promise. I’ll figure something out.”
“It’s not pressure, man,” Jay said, checking his watch. He shook his head, getting to his feet hastily. “I just want to see you back on your feet. Get back on the horse or whatever.”
“Right. Horses,” Will said, giving Jay some weird version of a salute.
Jay looked at him like he was crazy. “Just call me if you need something.”
Will put his hand down, feeling rightfully pretty stupid. “Sure.”
He watched his brother go, geared up for a day of police week, and Will waved one last time as he headed out the door. When it was just him, he waited for the door to lock behind Jay, and then he picked up his phone and opened the email.
He read the email.
He read the offer.
“Sure,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Sure.”
-o-
Will went through the appropriate motions, just mostly to say he did. He checked his other messages -- and ignored them all. He glanced at the job listings, noting that Ms. Goodwin hadn’t listed his job yet for some reason, even though Natalie’s was now live.
Then, he decided to exercise, going for a run that literally left him in circles.
When he came back, he was sweaty, so he sat down, took a drink and read the email.
He ate lunch -- read the offer.
He cleaned up -- read the offer.
He texted Jay that everything was fine -- and read the offer.
To call it obsessive would be accurate, but Will didn’t think of it particularly in those terms. It was just his way of keeping grounding. It was his only tie to reality -- or the reality that he was trying to build.
See, that was the thing.
Will wasn’t thinking about whether or not he was going to take it.
Will was thinking about how he would adjust. He was thinking about his vaccinations. He was thinking about his passport. He was thinking about how he could get a sublease on his apartment in such short notice. He was thinking about selling his car and whether or not he had two suitcases that were big enough to pack up his entire life and start over.
He’d done this before, cut ties and start over. In fact, this was what Jay always accused him of. It was old hat; he was a pro at it.
But after so many years in Chicago, he was rusty. This time, he wasn’t sure it was actually a choice.
Because it wasn’t.
He wasn’t choosing this, not really. He may accept an offer and sign a contract, but this was more like karma. He had to give up the thing he wanted most and finish the thing he’d abandoned.
In the end, Will knew it was the right thing. He knew it on a level he couldn’t quite explain, but it was the only thing that reasonably made sense to him now. The idea of rooting up his entire life, cutting ties with Chicago and moving back to Africa to start his career over? It probably should have seemed overwhelming, but Will only felt relief.
The offer was terrible.
It was also the best thing Will had ever read.
This wasn’t a dream job, by any stretch of the imagination. This was his slim path to redemption, and Will was cognizant enough to see it for what it was. This choice wasn’t a choice at all; it was the only way forward.
Telling his brother, by contrast, was still the most daunting task. One that he could not assuage with reason or maturity, no matter how many times he tried to talk himself into it.
He would have preferred to avoid it, if he could. But that would have kind of defeated the purpose of his whole reinvention. This wasn’t about running away this time. Quite the opposite. He wasn’t running away from anything. He was running to something.
But that meant he had to stay and say goodbye like a man.
No, he had to stay and say goodbye like a brother.
That was even harder.
He had done everything else wrong, though. He had to get this right.
He opened the email, one more time.
Then, he printed it out over the Wifi connection to Jay’s printer. With the papers in front of him, he grabbed a pen and scribbled his signature across the bottom of the last page. Without thinking -- without hesitating -- Will snapped a photo and emailed it back to Adam.
Sending you the photo now. I’ll get the actual copy in the mail for overnight delivery.
He paused, thinking about this next bit.
I look forward to working with you again.
It was true.
At least, it was more true than it was not.
Will hit send, and hoped that the universe wouldn’t prove him wrong.
-o-
It was late when Will finally got his things together, and he was lucky to get to the post office in time. It cost a fortune to send a signed copy of the acceptance letter by express overnight mail to Adam’s hotel in New York, but it had to be done.
And now it was done.
The finality of it was sobering, perhaps. He’d made his choice.
Now, he just had to tell Jay.
As hard as the rest had been, he knew this was the hardest thing yet.
By the time he got back, Jay was already home from work. He was putting around the kitchen in some half hearted attempt to plan dinner while unpacking a bag of fresh groceries. The look on his face when Will got in, however, indicated that he’d been waiting for Will to come home.
No doubt, he’d been worried. Will had a history of leaving, after all. And Jay had too much experience being left behind.
“Hey,” Jay said. “I was just going to call you.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Will said, loitering uncertainly in the kitchen while Jay unpacked. “Had an errand take longer than I expected.”
Jay nodded, but clearly didn’t know what to say. “Okay day?” he finally asked.
Will nodded back. “Okay, yeah,” he said. “Okay.”
Jay gave him a funny look.
Will cleared his throat, not sure if he was ready for the inevitable even if he knew it was time. He watched Jay for another moment, unpacking a loaf of bread and a half gallon of milk, and he couldn’t put it off any longer.
“So,” he said, broaching the silence with all due awkwardness. He raised his eyebrows and tried to look casual. “I found a job.”
Jay stopped what he was doing while unloading the bag of groceries, a carton of eggs in his hand. “Seriously? You did?”
“I did,” Will said, speaking slowly and carefully as he tried to gauge his brother’s reaction. He was hesitant to continue. “It’s not probably one that you’re expecting.”
Jay made a little face, as if to say that was only to be expected. He put the eggs down. “One of those gigs in New York? I mean, seriously, man, you’ll turn into a Yankees fan and I’ll never be able to talk to you again.”
Will shook his head, wishing this would be easier. “It’s not in New York.”
Jay started unpacking the bag again, looking pleasantly surprised. “Did you find something closer? Did you reconsider the suburbs? Or, like, something regional -- Milwaukee maybe?”
Will sighed. He was running out of ways to obfuscate this. He had to put himself out of his misery. “It’s the organization I used to work for during my fellowship,” he explained. “I still have contact with a friend there. He’s been there the whole time, and he’s made his way pretty high up the ladder by now.”
Jay put away the milk, with a small but impressed nod. “Okay,” he said. “You said the fellowship? The one in--”
“Africa,” Will concluded for him, hoping his brother could put the pieces together from there.
Jay went still, his face freezing blankly. “Africa?”
There was no way back from this conversation, and there was no way back from this reality. Will had made a lot of impulsive choices in his life, and this wasn’t like the rest of them. That made it easier, in some ways. In other ways, it was so much harder.
He didn’t flinch away. He kept his gaze steady. If he wanted to take ownership, then here he was. “Africa,” he said. “The organization has facilities all throughout the continent, mostly in poor urban areas where crime has made it difficult to keep hospitals open. I don’t know for sure where I’d be yet--”
“But it’s Africa,” Jay said, still standing stuck in place.
“The work is important, Jay. I was reading up on it more today,” Will said. “The network is rapidly expanding, becoming one of the primary providers of critical medical care in low income areas throughout the continent. They’re working in populations affected by poverty and crime--”
Jay made a face, clearly skeptical now. “So you’d be working in a foreign country as an American national in hospitals located in crime-heavy districts? And you’re trying to tell me that’s a good thing?”
Will sighed, but he didn’t fault his brother for his concern. “I know there are dangers involved -- I have been there before,” he said.
“So why do you want to go back?” Jay asked. “I mean, you ran out of that fellowship super fast.”
“Not because I didn’t like the work,” Will said. He shook his head. “It was a stupid reason to go, and I’ve always known that. I’ve always regretted it. This network -- they do good work, important work. This is where I’m needed.”
“But why?” Jay asked. “There are plenty of poor areas right here in Chicago. Lots of people who need medical care.”
“I’ve already told you, I can’t stay in Chicago,” Will said. “So what else am I going to do?”
“Anything,” Jay said emphatically. “Literally anything.”
His brother’s ire was starting to rise, and Will knew he was losing the plot here -- and fast. He did his best to circle back to the point. He wanted Jay to understand this. He wanted Jay to get it. “Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. And I’m not stupid and I’m not crazy. I know how this must look to you.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, indignant. “Like you’re back to quitting when things get hard.”
“No,” Will said, holding his ground because this was the only ground he had left. “Like I’m leaving you.”
Jay was quiet, face drawing in. The self control evident in his expression almost hid the hurt that Will knew he’d uncovered.
But it wasn’t that he was trying to hurt his brother. Just the opposite, in fact.
“It’s not like that this time, I promise,” he said. “I mean, I’ve always had good reasons to leave -- even if you’ve never understood them -- but it’s different this time. What happened to me at Med -- what I did -- I can’t undo it. I have to own up to it, and I have to learn from it or I’m just going to get stuck in the same, self destructive pattern. I can’t do that. Not anymore.
Stiffly, Jay was conceding nothing. “Fine, but there are hospitals besides Med. Lots of them, in fact.”
“Even if my reputation isn’t ruined, it would be a mistake to stay,” Will said. “I’ve been making the same mistakes for years. I just keep giving in to the same weaknesses, and I’m not growing up, Jay. Not in the ways I need to.”
He shook his head. “It’s not as bad as you think,” Jay said. “If you just gave yourself some time to calm down, get some perspective--”
“Or lose my nerve,” Will said. “Jay, this is as bad as I think it is, but I keep telling myself it’s not. I keep getting get-out-of-jail-free cards that let me think I can get off the hook. This isn’t even about Med or my reputation. I have to change.”
The bag of groceries was still only half unpacked on the table between them. Will reached down and pulled out the letter he’d printed out with Adam’s offer.
“This is it,” he said. “I started it. I have to finish it.”
Jay hesitated, lips pursed tight, but he took the letter. He skimmed it over, shaking his head with a huff of disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” Will said. “That’s why it’s signed and dated and already sent back”
Jay looked down, reading it again. “Did you even read the offer?” Jay asked, incredulous. “The job is crap. It doesn’t pay anything, and you get, like, no benefits of substance. Add all that to the fact that the working conditions are actually dangerous -- and I don’t get it, man.”
“Well, okay,” Will said, hedging a little. When spelled out in black and white, he could see how the logic was strained, but this wasn’t about the traditional logic. It was no kind of logic Will had ever used before, and that was really the point. “But the work is important. It’s an area of extreme need. I’d be making a difference.”
“I know,” Jay said. “It’s just -- I can’t get away from the facts. You’re a doctor. An actual doctor. You can make a difference anywhere. So why this? Why Africa?”
It probably wasn’t unfair for Jay to ask the question. Jay had been there for him during this time, a time when Will had literally had no one else. Jay’s support had ensured that he didn’t fall apart. If anything, it was Jay’s doing that he had gotten this offer at all.
And after a lifetime of coming up short for his brother, Will knew he owed him this.
An explanation.
If only Will could put it into words. “Because I have no choice,” he said, wishing that there was a better way to put it.
Jay was still skeptical. “I’ve told you already. You literally have hundreds of choices,” he said. “I went through the advertisements for every suburb in Chicago, and you could get a job in any one of them.”
Will sighed. “I could apply, but that doesn’t mean I’d get it.”
“Oh, come on,” Jay said with an indignant snort. “You’re acting like you got blackballed when Goodwin literally offered to take you back. You really think she wouldn’t put in a good reference?”
Will’s look was dubious.
“A neutral reference?” Jay clarified. “I think you’re ruling out a lot of good jobs right in your own back yard, and I just don’t get it, man.”
Will was still grasping for an answer. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
Jay closed his mouth, regarding Will somewhat warily. “You sure?” he asked. The question was pointed, but it wasn’t an accusation. “Because it kind of feels like you’re trying to punish yourself.”
Will’s instincts were to bristle against the conclusion, but he found he didn’t have the heart. Or he didn’t have the willpower. Or, maybe, he just knew it might be true. He could make the big picture arguments. He could talk about self-betterment and becoming a better person. But, at the most basic level, Will didn’t want to skate free after this latest screw up. He wanted the mistake to count.
With a weary shake of his head, he offered no excuses. “Maybe I am. I don’t know.”
The honesty had to be a welcome change of pace, but Jay still looked gutted by it. “But why? Will, I know you screwed up, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“But maybe it should be,” Will said. His hands lifted and fell uselessly. “I’ve been making mistakes like this my whole life -- you know that better than I do. And -- it’s time to learn. I need to learn this time. Before I spend my whole life running from one disaster to the next.”
“Dude, listen to me,” Jay said. He leaned forward a little across the table, lowering his voice and locking eyes with Will. “You made a mistake. This mistake isn’t like all the others. You made a bad choice for good reasons.”
“That’s exactly like the others,” Will argued over the bag of groceries. “Don’t you see? I haven’t learned.”
“So, what?” Jay asked, shifting back in his stance to cross his arms over his chest. “This is penance? Going to Africa is your way of making it right.”
It was Will’s turn to lean forward, looking at his brother ever more intently. “It’s not that simple,” he said. “Jay, I don’t even know how to explain it exactly. It’s just -- this, this job -- it feels like the right thing. The thing I’m supposed to do.”
Jay rolled his eyes, looking at the ceiling.
Will continued, almost pleading with his brother to understand. “It’s like you’re always telling me: I have to finish what I start. And I left Africa unfinished,” he said. “If I can go back, tie up this loose end -- then, I don’t know. Maybe there’s hope for me after all.”
Jay turned away, pacing a small ways into the kitchen and then back again. He took a moment to breathe, and he shook his head before turning back to Will. “For the record, I still think you’re doing this to punish yourself, and I think it’s crap that you’re using my own criticisms against me,” he said. He blew out a breath and nodded this time. “But you’re doing this like a man. You’re taking responsibility and you’re communicating. So, if this is what you say you need to do, then I’ll do what I can to support you.”
It had been a hard week -- it had been a terrible week. It had been one of the worst week’s of Will’s life.
But standing there, the job offer on the table between them and Jay’s approval finally in hand, Will felt like things were finally -- finally -- about to start moving forward again.
He didn’t feel joy. He wasn’t happy about any of this.
Instead, it was relief.
All the things Will’d done, that was about as much as he could hope for.
-o-
After breaking the news and helping his brother come to terms with the choice, Will helped put away the dishes. Now that there was a timeline on his transition -- and a short one, at that -- Will didn’t have the luxury of being depressed.
Or, at least, he didn’t have the luxury of acting depressed. The emptiness was still pervasive, but he found as long as he kept busy, he could keep the worst of it at bay. He wasn’t about to be happy, but he could be purposeful. That was about as much as he hoped for these days.
He started with the most practical tasks first. Although Jay had been gracious in allowing him to stay, Will starting spending most days at his apartment. With the number of times he’d moved in recent years, at least most of his stuff was still packed, but it still took time to get the rest of the things in order. He made three critical piles: one to get rid of, one to put in storage and one to pack with him in the two suitcases he planned on shipping with him overseas.
When he wasn’t packing, he was trying to clean -- he could use the money back on his deposit -- and then he sweet talked his landlord into helping him find a subletter. She was keen on him, fortunately, and Will had always been an easy tennant in his time there. She agreed to help, and told him not to worry about it. She felt confident she could rent the place, easy.
Will wouldn’t worry about that, then, because he could worry about just about everything else. He had to get his travel documents in order, and he made sure his vaccines were up to date for a trip to Africa. In addition to getting his paperwork for his COVID vaccination, he updated his malaria vaccination and a few others just for good measure. He was going there to work. The last thing he needed was to get laid out flat on his ass due to common illnesses.
He couldn’t put in a forwarding address -- he didn’t have an apartment lined up yet -- but Jay had agreed to take his mail for the time being until he figured it out and made sure his accounts were squared away in the United States. He had to get his travel visa in order, a process that Adam helped with as best he could, forwarding him the paperwork to get it approved through one of the African consulates in Chicago. He got his other documents in order -- passport, birth certification, medical license, and so on -- took out enough money in a usable currency, and did the best he could to pretend like he was ready.
And he was ready, in one sense of the word. He had his affairs in order to legally go work in Africa.
But was he ready?
What did that even mean?
In truth, for as busy as Will had been, he still felt like a shadow of himself. He stayed busy, but he found it hard to laugh and smile. He was living, sure. But he didn’t really feel alive. It was going through the motions. Life by rote.
But it was enough to get up in the morning. He could still do the utilitarian things. He forced himself to work out each morning -- he would need the stamina overseas -- and he took the time to trim his beard and style his his hair so he looked presentable. It felt forced, but it was better than nothing.
Better than the alternative, at any rate.
And he had to be honest. There was still a part of him that wanted to run -- anywhere. The impulse was strong, and it would be so easy to do. He’d already tied up the loose ends in Chicago; all he had to do was get in his car and drive.
Well, he was putting the car in storage. That was a compromise he’d struck with Jay. Will had just planned on selling it, but Jay seemed to operate under the notion that Will was coming back in a year when his tour was up. He was so set on the idea, that Will had been reluctant to break him of it.
But that wasn’t the point. The point wasn’t about the car. It wasn’t about the length of his tour. It was about the reality of what he was doing -- and why.
He didn’t deserve a way out of this. He didn’t deserve an easy out or a quick fix. He had hurt too many people -- he’d let so many people down -- and he couldn’t do it anymore. He would fill the emptiness with purpose. He would fill the sadness with work. He would prove himself not with skill, but with dedication. He wasn’t inspired anymore; he was dutiful. Reliable.
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all Will had, and he clung to it like the liferaft that it was right now. It was Will’s best and only coping mechanism.
He was, however, coping.
He wasn’t always sure about his brother.
Over the week leading up to his fast departure, Jay clearly acclimated to the idea but he still hated it with a passion. He disliked the destination, and he questioned the need for the work. He thought Will was being underpaid and overworked, and that Will was selling himself short on what he was actually capable of.
Funny how Jay suddenly thought he was the best doctor in the world when he’d spent years telling Will that he was nothing special just because he happened to have earned a MD.
Still, Jay seemed to be tolerating the decision for Will’s sake. He hated it, but he stayed active in the process, and he made sure that Will was thinking of all the necessary details to make sure that things went well.
Or as well as they possibly could.
Will did his best to take this for what it was. Jay wasn’t being overly nice about the choice, but that wasn’t a targeted insult on Will. Jay just didn’t want Will to go, but since Will had secured gainful employment, it was hard to make an argument that didn’t wind up sounding petty.
Instead, Jay just went around acting petty.
Will wasn’t sure that was the tradeoff his brother had intended, but that was probably okay. The irony was that now that Will had finally realized that Jay wanted him around for his sake, it was the same moment Will hadn’t got a leg to stand on to mock his brother for it.
If anything, it was really pretty humbling. As much as Will screwed up -- time and again -- his brother still cared about him. Will had taken that for granted for most of his life.
Not anymore.
Really, he knew, never again.
-o-
With two days before his flight, Will had gotten most of the details in order. His things were sorted and packed. His car was in long term parking. His paperwork, his documents -- all of it, ready to go. All he had left to do was clean his apartment.
Jay agreed to help him after work one night. Will said he didn’t have to, but Jay rolled his eyes. “You’re going to Africa, so if I have to spend the last two nights with you cleaning, then I’m going to do it, okay?”
The logic was suspect, but the sentiment was not. “I just feel bad,” Will said, pausing to wipe his forehead. They’d been cleaning for a few hours now, and they were getting into the nitty gritty. Jay was washing the walls down. Will had taken to cleaning the inside of his cabinets, even though most of the grime there predated him. He was going a little over the top with it, but his landlord had been far more flexible than necessary. He wanted to do what he could for her. “I mean, this isn’t very fun.”
“But when am I going to spend time with you again?” Jay asked, dipping his cloth into the warm, soapy water again. “I mean, do you even get vacations?”
“I think there’s some time off, but I won’t be paid enough to afford plane tickets,” Will said.
“So, what?” Jay asked. “I won’t see you for a year?”
In everything, Will hadn’t thought of it in precisely those terms. He’d been intentional about this from the start -- focusing not on what he was leaving behind, but what he was going toward.
Yet, he was leaving something behind.
Someone.
And he had to reckon with that sooner or later.
“We’ll call, text,” Will said. “After all the lockdowns, we’re a lot better at Facetime and stuff.”
“But it’s not the same,” Jay said, sounding a little whiny now. “I mean, you can’t go to the game on Zoom. You can’t play video games on Facetime.”
“There are plenty of online games,” Will said.
“Says the guy without a PS4,” Jay pointed out.
“Still,” Will said. “It won’t be that bad.”
“But it will be that long,” Jay said. He scrubbed thoughtfully for a moment while Will wrung out the stained rag he was using and starting on a new shelf.
“Oh, please,” Will said, rolling his eyes and making a concerted effort to lighten the tone. “It’s not like I’ve ever been brother of the year. You’ll be glad to get me off your couch.”
“But not out of our city,” he said, and he stopped again. “You know that this is home, right? You get that now, don’t you?”
Will had to stop, his own facade finally falling. He looked at Jay and wished he could tell his brother everything he wanted to hear. Jay had always been collateral damage in his life choices. His brother had been the afterthought.
It killed him to think it was like that now.
But there was no way around it.
He couldn’t stay in Chicago and even pretend to be a person. If this was his home, then he had to earn the right to be here. He had to be worthy of a place in Jay’s life.
“It’s home,” Will said with a little nod. “And maybe someday I can come back.”
Jay grunted, going back to his work. “No maybe,” he said. “You’re coming back, even if I have to get on a plane and drag your ass back here.”
“Jay--”
Jay stopped again, but this time his gaze was unrelenting. “I’m serious, Will,” he said. “I know you have to go do whatever it is you need to do. You have to finish things, and you know what, I can support that. But you’re talking about endings. I’m talking about beginnings.”
“I just wish I knew how it ended,” Will said after a moment.
Jay got back to work, scrubbing even harder than before. “I just know how it starts.”
That was enough for Jay.
Then it had to be enough for Will, too.
-o-
They finished up the rest of the cleaning until the place was nearly spotless, and Will felt satisfied that he had done his due diligence. They had gathered up the last few boxes of Will’s things -- mostly clothes and a few other lingering items he hadn’t already sorted in his closet -- and staged them by the door.
Since they were both hot and sweaty, Will took the liberty of ordering them some pizzas, and they drained the last of whatever beverages Will had left in the fridge. Without any furniture, there was no place to sit, but exhausted as they both were, it didn’t matter. They laid the pizza boxes out on the floor and sat against the walls, staring out across the vacant floor of Will’s apartment for one last time.
“We should do something,” Jay said after awhile, more than a pizza consumed between them. “A party or something. A going away thing.”
Will tried not to look like he hated the idea, but the fact of the matter was that he hated the idea. “We really don’t need to make a big deal of it.”
“Maybe we do,” Jay said. “I mean, you’ve been here for nearly ten years.”
“Yeah, and I flamed out,” Will reminded him. “I’m taboo.”
“You only think you’re taboo,” Jay said. “I mean, I know you’ve been ducking calls from Maggie.”
“I just am not ready to talk to her yet--”
“And what about April?”
“We weren’t quite as close. Besides, last I heard, she was leaving--”
“And Ethan?” Jay prompted.
Will rolled his eyes. “You know Ethan and I aren’t exactly on good terms,” he said. “I’m not on good terms with anyone. I know you think I’m exaggerating, but I ruined my reputation and hurt the hospital. Besides, I’m pretty sure Ethan’s still in recovery. You have to face it. If you throw a party, not one of them will come.”
Jay rolled his eyes right back at him. “I don’t buy that for a second,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time at Med. You act like you’re the only one who goes around breaking the rules. Last I checked, that was kind of what you Med doctors do.”
Will scoffed. “Jay, you’re totally exaggerating now.”
“Fine,” Jay said, a little louder than necessary. “But you have other friends. You’ve worked that ED for years. You know every paramedic and cop and firefighter in the city.”
“In a purely professional capacity,” Will said. He shrugged. “I mean, we may talk at Molly’s but it’s not like I’m playing pickup ball with Matt Casey. I’m not calling up Adam Ruzek to go to the movies.”
“Why would you go to the movies with Ruzek?” Jay asked, finding the idea vexing.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t!” Will said. He flailed his arms just a little. “That’s my point. If you throw a party, it’s going to be sympathy guests and freeloaders. I don’t want that, especially since I’d have to explain to most of them why I got fired.”
Jay held up his finger. “Technically, you quit.”
“You keep bringing that up, but I’m really not sure you fully grasp the part where Goodwin fired me without letting me say a single word,” Will pointed out. “Almost ten years of employment, and she kicked my ass to the curb without as much as a goodbye.”
Jay groaned, flopping backward. “Fine,” he said. “No party. But we are celebrating.”
“Still not seeing it as a cause to celebrate--”
But Jay was insistent. “Well, you’re stupid and your opinion doesn’t matter.”
Will nodded along facetiously. “Nice.”
Jay grinned at him. “Glad you agree,” he said. “So what do you think? Dinner and drinks?”
“Just dinner,” Will said. “Some place simple.”
“You’re boring,” Jay said. “I’ll come up with something.”
Will gave his brother a look of warning. “Jay--”
It was a look that Jay wholeheartedly ignored. He started to get up, snagging another piece of pizza as he did. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
Will got up after him, closing up the box of pizza to put it in the fridge. “Something quiet. Just the two of us.”
“I told you it’ll be good,” Jay said, somehow sounding indignant. “Now, shut up. We need to get these last boxes down to the car and drop them off at the storage facility. Are you sure you don’t need any of it? You’re not keeping a lot.”
Will gave the last of his belongings a look and shrugged. “I can’t take much with me overseas,” he said. “Shipping prices are ridiculous.”
“Sure, but you’re acting like you can put your whole life into a suitcase and a carry on,” Jay said.
“That’s just how it is,” Will said, not sure what other explanation to offer. “There’s not as much down time over there anyway.”
Jay made a face. “Every time you talk about this job, it sounds less and less appealing.”
“And I keep telling you, every time we talk about it, how important it is,” Will said, delineating the point once more.
Jay remained unimpressed. “Whatever,” he said. He bent down to hoist up two of the boxes. “At least your stuff will be safe in storage. Just waiting there for when you come back home.”
Will knew what Jay was saying there, and he didn’t have the heart to contradict him. Jay still thought Chicago was the endgame. Jay still believed his brother belonged here.
He didn’t have the heart to tell Jay anything to the contrary. His brother had been through too much, and he’d been far too good to him. Instead of offering a sober contradiction, Will picked up the next two boxes and followed suit.
After all, one of them deserved to hope.
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
For all that was currently going wrong in Will’s life, which was a lot, there was one saving grace. Somehow, while screwing up literally every other part of his life, Will had managed to not alienate his brother for once. He was very aware of this, especially since leaving Jay high and dry tended to be one of his coping mechanisms.
It was one reason he was scared to tell Jay about Africa.
But it was also why he resolved to enjoy himself, just this one night. Not even for his own sake, but for Jay’s. A testament to just how far they had come as brothers, family. Maybe if they had survived everything so far, then they might just survive this as well.
It was the main reason Will hadn’t completely fallen apart. He had to get himself together for Jay. He had to leave to be the brother Jay deserved.
It was a hard truth, one Will had resigned himself to. He would talk Jay into it, one way or another.
But tonight.
Tonight they played video games.
No girlfriends or uncertain relationships. No unresolved workplace drama.
Just two brothers and a PlayStation.
They started in on a baseball game, but spent the first 20 minutes arguing who got to be the White Sox. When they failed to resolve that, they both agreed to be different teams and widely argued about the National League against the American League. By the time they did play, Jay was the White Sox by a matter of convoluted logic, and Will agreed to play the Kansas City Royals.
As younger men, they had both played games, but Will had given it up a lot younger. While Jay hoarded his money in high school for a PlayStation, Will had saved up for a new guitar. That wasn’t to say that Will never played, but he hadn’t had much time for it in med school or residency. Moving as much as he did made it hard to keep hold of any system anyway. He had had a Wii but that had been lost somewhere between Africa and New York, and Will hadn’t bothered to replace it.
Which was all to say, Jay had a decided advantage. They used to play weekly, a matter of brotherly bonding, but the pandemic had made such things hard. It had fallen by the wayside, and Will regretted that it had taken so much to bring them back to the same couch, spending time together. For the first time in their lives, there was no animosity between them. The baggage had been cleared. The barriers had been put aside. They were brothers, then. Brothers finally.
Brother always.
About mid-way through their game, Jay got a call. He looked at his phone, and winced, before moving to put it aside.
Will knew better. “Who is it?”
“Eh, just Hailey,” Jay said. “You’re up, dude.”
Will didn’t press the button to bring his player to bat. “You can’t just eh Hailey. She’s your fiance.”
“Girlfriend.”
“She proposed, you accepted,” Will said. “For your sake, start saying fiance before she realizes you haven’t.”
Jay’s lips pursed together while the phone stopped ringing.
Will put his controller down. “You’re really not going to answer?”
“I’ll call her back,” Jay said. “We’re doing stuff.”
“We’re playing a video game,” Will said. “Call her back now.”
“Will--”
“One of us is alone and pathetic; the other doesn’t have to be,” he said. “Call her. We’ll pick it up when you’re done.”
Jay picked up his phone again, but hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I’m down 5 to 2,” he pointed out. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Jay was already pulling up his contact list. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said. “She probably just wants to check in.”
Will didn’t even reply as Jay disappeared into his bedroom, the door shutting behind him. He sat for a minute, staring at the screen. Finally, he put it on mute, reaching for his own phone out of habit. He started scrolling through the messages -- the ones he still couldn’t bring himself to read -- and felt his mood start to fall again.
Tossing the phone aside, Will slumped back onto the couch cushions. He sighed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what it was he was supposed to do with himself now. Figuring out his employment situation had been the only thing keeping him going. What else was there?
Beyond Jay -- what did he have?
Contacts he didn’t want to reply to?
Coworkers who couldn’t accept that he was gone?
A list of ex-girlfriends who all outclassed him?
His life was depressing, and it was more depressing because all of it -- every last bit -- was his own damn fault.
Sitting miserable, he heard Jay’s voice from the other room. It was muffled by the door, and his brother was clearly speaking quietly. Will could hear him anyway.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Just been doing stuff, you know?”
There was a pause, and then Jay continued.
“I know, I know,” he said, a little quieter now. “I miss you, too. It’s just family, you know? I mean, it’s just Will and me now -- I know.”
There was another silence, and Will felt tears burn in his eyes.
“Hailey, I know,” he said. “We’re working on it, I swear.”
The next pause was even shorter, and he could hear his brother pacing the floor.
“Why don’t you come over later?” he suggested, sounding almost hopeful. “Yeah, tomorrow works, too. We could hang out, or whatever. The three of us.”
He closed his eyes again, torn between pathetic misery and heartening love. It was a hell of a thing to have someone care about you as much as Jay cared about him. But, then again, here he was, a full grown man, being reduced to playing third wheel on his brother’s mature dating life.
More evidence that while everyone else grew up, Will just regressed.
Somehow, that made his sense of failure even more acute.
Jay was the only thing left for him in Chicago.
And Jay was the main reason left that he had to leave.
Because Jay was all he had.
And Jay deserved so much more than that.
-o-
Jay talked late, and Will made some pretense of playing on his phone so his brother wouldn’t think he’d been sitting there, depressed and feeling sorry for himself. Jay offered to finish the game, but Will claimed to be too tired, and he got ready for bed instead.
He was tired; he also wasn’t tired. It didn’t matter. Sleep was the only reprieve left to him.
That said, Will had never slept well on Jay’s couch. Despite his complaints over the years, it was still a crappy used couch that offered no lumbar support. And, Will was older than he used to be, so stuffing himself onto a cramped, old, deflated couch didn’t exactly make for prime sleeping conditions.
Not that he probably would have slept anyway.
Between leaving Med and the pending reply from Adam, Will had a lot on his mind. He kept going over it in his head, again and again.
What if he didn’t get the job offer? What if Africa was off the table? What would Will do then? Would he go grovelling back to Ms. Goodwin and make Jay happy? Or would he try other hospitals in Chicago? Would he head out to the suburbs? Try an urgent care clinic? Could he still find something in New York?
Alternatively, what if he did get the job offer? Was he really thinking about uprooting his entire life and heading back to Africa? Did he actually think he could still pull it off? He wasn’t a kid anymore -- he didn’t have the same drive, the same ambition. He didn’t even have the same stamina. The idea that he was going to successfully pull off this kind of transition was not a surefire bet. When he took the fellowship, he’d been riding high and at his prime.
Now, he was a washout. He was a screw up, a reject, a failure.
This wasn’t a power play now.
This was a move of last resort.
It reeked of desperation, no matter how he tried to spin it in his head.
And why not? Will was desperate, in a bleak, resigned sort of way. He knew that he was out of options. He knew that this would either save him or sink him.
Either way, it would be definitive.
Either way, Will stayed up all night, thinking, thinking, thinking.
Coming no closer to an answer either way.
-o-
He gave up the fight early, getting up and showering before Jay had even rolled out of bed. He was getting the coffee made while he scrolled through his phone when he saw the message in his email.
From Adam.
He froze for a second, not sure if he wanted to open it.
Not sure if he wanted to know.
But Will was too far down this road. He had no other places to go.
He clicked on the message.
Will! My friend, it was good to hear from you! Your resume looks to be in order, and even your reference was better than you made it out to be. I have talked to my superiors, and I am pleased to offer you the position of attending physician. You will be working for me as part of my staff. The other details are included in the offer for you to consider.
I just want to say, the position does not pay well. The position does not have prestige. You will work long hours and get few benefits. Honestly, I am not sure why you want this job at all, but it is yours, if you will have it.
Please! Let me know! The position starts next week, and there will be much paperwork to get in order, so the sooner the better!
Be well, my friend!
Sincerely,
Adam Goshit
That was it, then.
The decision was made.
Will was going to Africa.
-o-
Or was he?
Will made the coffee, and drank a cup, rereading the letter. He opened the attached offer, and he read that, too. He’d practically memorized it by the time Jay woke up an hour later, and the terms and conditions were rattling around inside his head while he made small talk with Jay over breakfast.
“What do you think you’ll do today?” Jay asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Will said with a shrug. He was trying to play it cool. He wasn’t sure he was pulling it off, but he was such a mess these days that Jay probably wasn’t going to notice right now. “Not much.”
Jay wrinkled his nose, chugging some of his orange juice. “Well, a job might be nice,” he said, as if Will hadn’t thought of that.
As if Will hadn’t memorized a job offer, which was sitting on his phone in his email right next to him on the table.
As if.
He attempted to smile. “I know,” he said. “I promise. I’ll figure something out.”
“It’s not pressure, man,” Jay said, checking his watch. He shook his head, getting to his feet hastily. “I just want to see you back on your feet. Get back on the horse or whatever.”
“Right. Horses,” Will said, giving Jay some weird version of a salute.
Jay looked at him like he was crazy. “Just call me if you need something.”
Will put his hand down, feeling rightfully pretty stupid. “Sure.”
He watched his brother go, geared up for a day of police week, and Will waved one last time as he headed out the door. When it was just him, he waited for the door to lock behind Jay, and then he picked up his phone and opened the email.
He read the email.
He read the offer.
“Sure,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Sure.”
-o-
Will went through the appropriate motions, just mostly to say he did. He checked his other messages -- and ignored them all. He glanced at the job listings, noting that Ms. Goodwin hadn’t listed his job yet for some reason, even though Natalie’s was now live.
Then, he decided to exercise, going for a run that literally left him in circles.
When he came back, he was sweaty, so he sat down, took a drink and read the email.
He ate lunch -- read the offer.
He cleaned up -- read the offer.
He texted Jay that everything was fine -- and read the offer.
To call it obsessive would be accurate, but Will didn’t think of it particularly in those terms. It was just his way of keeping grounding. It was his only tie to reality -- or the reality that he was trying to build.
See, that was the thing.
Will wasn’t thinking about whether or not he was going to take it.
Will was thinking about how he would adjust. He was thinking about his vaccinations. He was thinking about his passport. He was thinking about how he could get a sublease on his apartment in such short notice. He was thinking about selling his car and whether or not he had two suitcases that were big enough to pack up his entire life and start over.
He’d done this before, cut ties and start over. In fact, this was what Jay always accused him of. It was old hat; he was a pro at it.
But after so many years in Chicago, he was rusty. This time, he wasn’t sure it was actually a choice.
Because it wasn’t.
He wasn’t choosing this, not really. He may accept an offer and sign a contract, but this was more like karma. He had to give up the thing he wanted most and finish the thing he’d abandoned.
In the end, Will knew it was the right thing. He knew it on a level he couldn’t quite explain, but it was the only thing that reasonably made sense to him now. The idea of rooting up his entire life, cutting ties with Chicago and moving back to Africa to start his career over? It probably should have seemed overwhelming, but Will only felt relief.
The offer was terrible.
It was also the best thing Will had ever read.
This wasn’t a dream job, by any stretch of the imagination. This was his slim path to redemption, and Will was cognizant enough to see it for what it was. This choice wasn’t a choice at all; it was the only way forward.
Telling his brother, by contrast, was still the most daunting task. One that he could not assuage with reason or maturity, no matter how many times he tried to talk himself into it.
He would have preferred to avoid it, if he could. But that would have kind of defeated the purpose of his whole reinvention. This wasn’t about running away this time. Quite the opposite. He wasn’t running away from anything. He was running to something.
But that meant he had to stay and say goodbye like a man.
No, he had to stay and say goodbye like a brother.
That was even harder.
He had done everything else wrong, though. He had to get this right.
He opened the email, one more time.
Then, he printed it out over the Wifi connection to Jay’s printer. With the papers in front of him, he grabbed a pen and scribbled his signature across the bottom of the last page. Without thinking -- without hesitating -- Will snapped a photo and emailed it back to Adam.
Sending you the photo now. I’ll get the actual copy in the mail for overnight delivery.
He paused, thinking about this next bit.
I look forward to working with you again.
It was true.
At least, it was more true than it was not.
Will hit send, and hoped that the universe wouldn’t prove him wrong.
-o-
It was late when Will finally got his things together, and he was lucky to get to the post office in time. It cost a fortune to send a signed copy of the acceptance letter by express overnight mail to Adam’s hotel in New York, but it had to be done.
And now it was done.
The finality of it was sobering, perhaps. He’d made his choice.
Now, he just had to tell Jay.
As hard as the rest had been, he knew this was the hardest thing yet.
By the time he got back, Jay was already home from work. He was putting around the kitchen in some half hearted attempt to plan dinner while unpacking a bag of fresh groceries. The look on his face when Will got in, however, indicated that he’d been waiting for Will to come home.
No doubt, he’d been worried. Will had a history of leaving, after all. And Jay had too much experience being left behind.
“Hey,” Jay said. “I was just going to call you.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Will said, loitering uncertainly in the kitchen while Jay unpacked. “Had an errand take longer than I expected.”
Jay nodded, but clearly didn’t know what to say. “Okay day?” he finally asked.
Will nodded back. “Okay, yeah,” he said. “Okay.”
Jay gave him a funny look.
Will cleared his throat, not sure if he was ready for the inevitable even if he knew it was time. He watched Jay for another moment, unpacking a loaf of bread and a half gallon of milk, and he couldn’t put it off any longer.
“So,” he said, broaching the silence with all due awkwardness. He raised his eyebrows and tried to look casual. “I found a job.”
Jay stopped what he was doing while unloading the bag of groceries, a carton of eggs in his hand. “Seriously? You did?”
“I did,” Will said, speaking slowly and carefully as he tried to gauge his brother’s reaction. He was hesitant to continue. “It’s not probably one that you’re expecting.”
Jay made a little face, as if to say that was only to be expected. He put the eggs down. “One of those gigs in New York? I mean, seriously, man, you’ll turn into a Yankees fan and I’ll never be able to talk to you again.”
Will shook his head, wishing this would be easier. “It’s not in New York.”
Jay started unpacking the bag again, looking pleasantly surprised. “Did you find something closer? Did you reconsider the suburbs? Or, like, something regional -- Milwaukee maybe?”
Will sighed. He was running out of ways to obfuscate this. He had to put himself out of his misery. “It’s the organization I used to work for during my fellowship,” he explained. “I still have contact with a friend there. He’s been there the whole time, and he’s made his way pretty high up the ladder by now.”
Jay put away the milk, with a small but impressed nod. “Okay,” he said. “You said the fellowship? The one in--”
“Africa,” Will concluded for him, hoping his brother could put the pieces together from there.
Jay went still, his face freezing blankly. “Africa?”
There was no way back from this conversation, and there was no way back from this reality. Will had made a lot of impulsive choices in his life, and this wasn’t like the rest of them. That made it easier, in some ways. In other ways, it was so much harder.
He didn’t flinch away. He kept his gaze steady. If he wanted to take ownership, then here he was. “Africa,” he said. “The organization has facilities all throughout the continent, mostly in poor urban areas where crime has made it difficult to keep hospitals open. I don’t know for sure where I’d be yet--”
“But it’s Africa,” Jay said, still standing stuck in place.
“The work is important, Jay. I was reading up on it more today,” Will said. “The network is rapidly expanding, becoming one of the primary providers of critical medical care in low income areas throughout the continent. They’re working in populations affected by poverty and crime--”
Jay made a face, clearly skeptical now. “So you’d be working in a foreign country as an American national in hospitals located in crime-heavy districts? And you’re trying to tell me that’s a good thing?”
Will sighed, but he didn’t fault his brother for his concern. “I know there are dangers involved -- I have been there before,” he said.
“So why do you want to go back?” Jay asked. “I mean, you ran out of that fellowship super fast.”
“Not because I didn’t like the work,” Will said. He shook his head. “It was a stupid reason to go, and I’ve always known that. I’ve always regretted it. This network -- they do good work, important work. This is where I’m needed.”
“But why?” Jay asked. “There are plenty of poor areas right here in Chicago. Lots of people who need medical care.”
“I’ve already told you, I can’t stay in Chicago,” Will said. “So what else am I going to do?”
“Anything,” Jay said emphatically. “Literally anything.”
His brother’s ire was starting to rise, and Will knew he was losing the plot here -- and fast. He did his best to circle back to the point. He wanted Jay to understand this. He wanted Jay to get it. “Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. And I’m not stupid and I’m not crazy. I know how this must look to you.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, indignant. “Like you’re back to quitting when things get hard.”
“No,” Will said, holding his ground because this was the only ground he had left. “Like I’m leaving you.”
Jay was quiet, face drawing in. The self control evident in his expression almost hid the hurt that Will knew he’d uncovered.
But it wasn’t that he was trying to hurt his brother. Just the opposite, in fact.
“It’s not like that this time, I promise,” he said. “I mean, I’ve always had good reasons to leave -- even if you’ve never understood them -- but it’s different this time. What happened to me at Med -- what I did -- I can’t undo it. I have to own up to it, and I have to learn from it or I’m just going to get stuck in the same, self destructive pattern. I can’t do that. Not anymore.
Stiffly, Jay was conceding nothing. “Fine, but there are hospitals besides Med. Lots of them, in fact.”
“Even if my reputation isn’t ruined, it would be a mistake to stay,” Will said. “I’ve been making the same mistakes for years. I just keep giving in to the same weaknesses, and I’m not growing up, Jay. Not in the ways I need to.”
He shook his head. “It’s not as bad as you think,” Jay said. “If you just gave yourself some time to calm down, get some perspective--”
“Or lose my nerve,” Will said. “Jay, this is as bad as I think it is, but I keep telling myself it’s not. I keep getting get-out-of-jail-free cards that let me think I can get off the hook. This isn’t even about Med or my reputation. I have to change.”
The bag of groceries was still only half unpacked on the table between them. Will reached down and pulled out the letter he’d printed out with Adam’s offer.
“This is it,” he said. “I started it. I have to finish it.”
Jay hesitated, lips pursed tight, but he took the letter. He skimmed it over, shaking his head with a huff of disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” Will said. “That’s why it’s signed and dated and already sent back”
Jay looked down, reading it again. “Did you even read the offer?” Jay asked, incredulous. “The job is crap. It doesn’t pay anything, and you get, like, no benefits of substance. Add all that to the fact that the working conditions are actually dangerous -- and I don’t get it, man.”
“Well, okay,” Will said, hedging a little. When spelled out in black and white, he could see how the logic was strained, but this wasn’t about the traditional logic. It was no kind of logic Will had ever used before, and that was really the point. “But the work is important. It’s an area of extreme need. I’d be making a difference.”
“I know,” Jay said. “It’s just -- I can’t get away from the facts. You’re a doctor. An actual doctor. You can make a difference anywhere. So why this? Why Africa?”
It probably wasn’t unfair for Jay to ask the question. Jay had been there for him during this time, a time when Will had literally had no one else. Jay’s support had ensured that he didn’t fall apart. If anything, it was Jay’s doing that he had gotten this offer at all.
And after a lifetime of coming up short for his brother, Will knew he owed him this.
An explanation.
If only Will could put it into words. “Because I have no choice,” he said, wishing that there was a better way to put it.
Jay was still skeptical. “I’ve told you already. You literally have hundreds of choices,” he said. “I went through the advertisements for every suburb in Chicago, and you could get a job in any one of them.”
Will sighed. “I could apply, but that doesn’t mean I’d get it.”
“Oh, come on,” Jay said with an indignant snort. “You’re acting like you got blackballed when Goodwin literally offered to take you back. You really think she wouldn’t put in a good reference?”
Will’s look was dubious.
“A neutral reference?” Jay clarified. “I think you’re ruling out a lot of good jobs right in your own back yard, and I just don’t get it, man.”
Will was still grasping for an answer. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
Jay closed his mouth, regarding Will somewhat warily. “You sure?” he asked. The question was pointed, but it wasn’t an accusation. “Because it kind of feels like you’re trying to punish yourself.”
Will’s instincts were to bristle against the conclusion, but he found he didn’t have the heart. Or he didn’t have the willpower. Or, maybe, he just knew it might be true. He could make the big picture arguments. He could talk about self-betterment and becoming a better person. But, at the most basic level, Will didn’t want to skate free after this latest screw up. He wanted the mistake to count.
With a weary shake of his head, he offered no excuses. “Maybe I am. I don’t know.”
The honesty had to be a welcome change of pace, but Jay still looked gutted by it. “But why? Will, I know you screwed up, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“But maybe it should be,” Will said. His hands lifted and fell uselessly. “I’ve been making mistakes like this my whole life -- you know that better than I do. And -- it’s time to learn. I need to learn this time. Before I spend my whole life running from one disaster to the next.”
“Dude, listen to me,” Jay said. He leaned forward a little across the table, lowering his voice and locking eyes with Will. “You made a mistake. This mistake isn’t like all the others. You made a bad choice for good reasons.”
“That’s exactly like the others,” Will argued over the bag of groceries. “Don’t you see? I haven’t learned.”
“So, what?” Jay asked, shifting back in his stance to cross his arms over his chest. “This is penance? Going to Africa is your way of making it right.”
It was Will’s turn to lean forward, looking at his brother ever more intently. “It’s not that simple,” he said. “Jay, I don’t even know how to explain it exactly. It’s just -- this, this job -- it feels like the right thing. The thing I’m supposed to do.”
Jay rolled his eyes, looking at the ceiling.
Will continued, almost pleading with his brother to understand. “It’s like you’re always telling me: I have to finish what I start. And I left Africa unfinished,” he said. “If I can go back, tie up this loose end -- then, I don’t know. Maybe there’s hope for me after all.”
Jay turned away, pacing a small ways into the kitchen and then back again. He took a moment to breathe, and he shook his head before turning back to Will. “For the record, I still think you’re doing this to punish yourself, and I think it’s crap that you’re using my own criticisms against me,” he said. He blew out a breath and nodded this time. “But you’re doing this like a man. You’re taking responsibility and you’re communicating. So, if this is what you say you need to do, then I’ll do what I can to support you.”
It had been a hard week -- it had been a terrible week. It had been one of the worst week’s of Will’s life.
But standing there, the job offer on the table between them and Jay’s approval finally in hand, Will felt like things were finally -- finally -- about to start moving forward again.
He didn’t feel joy. He wasn’t happy about any of this.
Instead, it was relief.
All the things Will’d done, that was about as much as he could hope for.
-o-
After breaking the news and helping his brother come to terms with the choice, Will helped put away the dishes. Now that there was a timeline on his transition -- and a short one, at that -- Will didn’t have the luxury of being depressed.
Or, at least, he didn’t have the luxury of acting depressed. The emptiness was still pervasive, but he found as long as he kept busy, he could keep the worst of it at bay. He wasn’t about to be happy, but he could be purposeful. That was about as much as he hoped for these days.
He started with the most practical tasks first. Although Jay had been gracious in allowing him to stay, Will starting spending most days at his apartment. With the number of times he’d moved in recent years, at least most of his stuff was still packed, but it still took time to get the rest of the things in order. He made three critical piles: one to get rid of, one to put in storage and one to pack with him in the two suitcases he planned on shipping with him overseas.
When he wasn’t packing, he was trying to clean -- he could use the money back on his deposit -- and then he sweet talked his landlord into helping him find a subletter. She was keen on him, fortunately, and Will had always been an easy tennant in his time there. She agreed to help, and told him not to worry about it. She felt confident she could rent the place, easy.
Will wouldn’t worry about that, then, because he could worry about just about everything else. He had to get his travel documents in order, and he made sure his vaccines were up to date for a trip to Africa. In addition to getting his paperwork for his COVID vaccination, he updated his malaria vaccination and a few others just for good measure. He was going there to work. The last thing he needed was to get laid out flat on his ass due to common illnesses.
He couldn’t put in a forwarding address -- he didn’t have an apartment lined up yet -- but Jay had agreed to take his mail for the time being until he figured it out and made sure his accounts were squared away in the United States. He had to get his travel visa in order, a process that Adam helped with as best he could, forwarding him the paperwork to get it approved through one of the African consulates in Chicago. He got his other documents in order -- passport, birth certification, medical license, and so on -- took out enough money in a usable currency, and did the best he could to pretend like he was ready.
And he was ready, in one sense of the word. He had his affairs in order to legally go work in Africa.
But was he ready?
What did that even mean?
In truth, for as busy as Will had been, he still felt like a shadow of himself. He stayed busy, but he found it hard to laugh and smile. He was living, sure. But he didn’t really feel alive. It was going through the motions. Life by rote.
But it was enough to get up in the morning. He could still do the utilitarian things. He forced himself to work out each morning -- he would need the stamina overseas -- and he took the time to trim his beard and style his his hair so he looked presentable. It felt forced, but it was better than nothing.
Better than the alternative, at any rate.
And he had to be honest. There was still a part of him that wanted to run -- anywhere. The impulse was strong, and it would be so easy to do. He’d already tied up the loose ends in Chicago; all he had to do was get in his car and drive.
Well, he was putting the car in storage. That was a compromise he’d struck with Jay. Will had just planned on selling it, but Jay seemed to operate under the notion that Will was coming back in a year when his tour was up. He was so set on the idea, that Will had been reluctant to break him of it.
But that wasn’t the point. The point wasn’t about the car. It wasn’t about the length of his tour. It was about the reality of what he was doing -- and why.
He didn’t deserve a way out of this. He didn’t deserve an easy out or a quick fix. He had hurt too many people -- he’d let so many people down -- and he couldn’t do it anymore. He would fill the emptiness with purpose. He would fill the sadness with work. He would prove himself not with skill, but with dedication. He wasn’t inspired anymore; he was dutiful. Reliable.
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all Will had, and he clung to it like the liferaft that it was right now. It was Will’s best and only coping mechanism.
He was, however, coping.
He wasn’t always sure about his brother.
Over the week leading up to his fast departure, Jay clearly acclimated to the idea but he still hated it with a passion. He disliked the destination, and he questioned the need for the work. He thought Will was being underpaid and overworked, and that Will was selling himself short on what he was actually capable of.
Funny how Jay suddenly thought he was the best doctor in the world when he’d spent years telling Will that he was nothing special just because he happened to have earned a MD.
Still, Jay seemed to be tolerating the decision for Will’s sake. He hated it, but he stayed active in the process, and he made sure that Will was thinking of all the necessary details to make sure that things went well.
Or as well as they possibly could.
Will did his best to take this for what it was. Jay wasn’t being overly nice about the choice, but that wasn’t a targeted insult on Will. Jay just didn’t want Will to go, but since Will had secured gainful employment, it was hard to make an argument that didn’t wind up sounding petty.
Instead, Jay just went around acting petty.
Will wasn’t sure that was the tradeoff his brother had intended, but that was probably okay. The irony was that now that Will had finally realized that Jay wanted him around for his sake, it was the same moment Will hadn’t got a leg to stand on to mock his brother for it.
If anything, it was really pretty humbling. As much as Will screwed up -- time and again -- his brother still cared about him. Will had taken that for granted for most of his life.
Not anymore.
Really, he knew, never again.
-o-
With two days before his flight, Will had gotten most of the details in order. His things were sorted and packed. His car was in long term parking. His paperwork, his documents -- all of it, ready to go. All he had left to do was clean his apartment.
Jay agreed to help him after work one night. Will said he didn’t have to, but Jay rolled his eyes. “You’re going to Africa, so if I have to spend the last two nights with you cleaning, then I’m going to do it, okay?”
The logic was suspect, but the sentiment was not. “I just feel bad,” Will said, pausing to wipe his forehead. They’d been cleaning for a few hours now, and they were getting into the nitty gritty. Jay was washing the walls down. Will had taken to cleaning the inside of his cabinets, even though most of the grime there predated him. He was going a little over the top with it, but his landlord had been far more flexible than necessary. He wanted to do what he could for her. “I mean, this isn’t very fun.”
“But when am I going to spend time with you again?” Jay asked, dipping his cloth into the warm, soapy water again. “I mean, do you even get vacations?”
“I think there’s some time off, but I won’t be paid enough to afford plane tickets,” Will said.
“So, what?” Jay asked. “I won’t see you for a year?”
In everything, Will hadn’t thought of it in precisely those terms. He’d been intentional about this from the start -- focusing not on what he was leaving behind, but what he was going toward.
Yet, he was leaving something behind.
Someone.
And he had to reckon with that sooner or later.
“We’ll call, text,” Will said. “After all the lockdowns, we’re a lot better at Facetime and stuff.”
“But it’s not the same,” Jay said, sounding a little whiny now. “I mean, you can’t go to the game on Zoom. You can’t play video games on Facetime.”
“There are plenty of online games,” Will said.
“Says the guy without a PS4,” Jay pointed out.
“Still,” Will said. “It won’t be that bad.”
“But it will be that long,” Jay said. He scrubbed thoughtfully for a moment while Will wrung out the stained rag he was using and starting on a new shelf.
“Oh, please,” Will said, rolling his eyes and making a concerted effort to lighten the tone. “It’s not like I’ve ever been brother of the year. You’ll be glad to get me off your couch.”
“But not out of our city,” he said, and he stopped again. “You know that this is home, right? You get that now, don’t you?”
Will had to stop, his own facade finally falling. He looked at Jay and wished he could tell his brother everything he wanted to hear. Jay had always been collateral damage in his life choices. His brother had been the afterthought.
It killed him to think it was like that now.
But there was no way around it.
He couldn’t stay in Chicago and even pretend to be a person. If this was his home, then he had to earn the right to be here. He had to be worthy of a place in Jay’s life.
“It’s home,” Will said with a little nod. “And maybe someday I can come back.”
Jay grunted, going back to his work. “No maybe,” he said. “You’re coming back, even if I have to get on a plane and drag your ass back here.”
“Jay--”
Jay stopped again, but this time his gaze was unrelenting. “I’m serious, Will,” he said. “I know you have to go do whatever it is you need to do. You have to finish things, and you know what, I can support that. But you’re talking about endings. I’m talking about beginnings.”
“I just wish I knew how it ended,” Will said after a moment.
Jay got back to work, scrubbing even harder than before. “I just know how it starts.”
That was enough for Jay.
Then it had to be enough for Will, too.
-o-
They finished up the rest of the cleaning until the place was nearly spotless, and Will felt satisfied that he had done his due diligence. They had gathered up the last few boxes of Will’s things -- mostly clothes and a few other lingering items he hadn’t already sorted in his closet -- and staged them by the door.
Since they were both hot and sweaty, Will took the liberty of ordering them some pizzas, and they drained the last of whatever beverages Will had left in the fridge. Without any furniture, there was no place to sit, but exhausted as they both were, it didn’t matter. They laid the pizza boxes out on the floor and sat against the walls, staring out across the vacant floor of Will’s apartment for one last time.
“We should do something,” Jay said after awhile, more than a pizza consumed between them. “A party or something. A going away thing.”
Will tried not to look like he hated the idea, but the fact of the matter was that he hated the idea. “We really don’t need to make a big deal of it.”
“Maybe we do,” Jay said. “I mean, you’ve been here for nearly ten years.”
“Yeah, and I flamed out,” Will reminded him. “I’m taboo.”
“You only think you’re taboo,” Jay said. “I mean, I know you’ve been ducking calls from Maggie.”
“I just am not ready to talk to her yet--”
“And what about April?”
“We weren’t quite as close. Besides, last I heard, she was leaving--”
“And Ethan?” Jay prompted.
Will rolled his eyes. “You know Ethan and I aren’t exactly on good terms,” he said. “I’m not on good terms with anyone. I know you think I’m exaggerating, but I ruined my reputation and hurt the hospital. Besides, I’m pretty sure Ethan’s still in recovery. You have to face it. If you throw a party, not one of them will come.”
Jay rolled his eyes right back at him. “I don’t buy that for a second,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time at Med. You act like you’re the only one who goes around breaking the rules. Last I checked, that was kind of what you Med doctors do.”
Will scoffed. “Jay, you’re totally exaggerating now.”
“Fine,” Jay said, a little louder than necessary. “But you have other friends. You’ve worked that ED for years. You know every paramedic and cop and firefighter in the city.”
“In a purely professional capacity,” Will said. He shrugged. “I mean, we may talk at Molly’s but it’s not like I’m playing pickup ball with Matt Casey. I’m not calling up Adam Ruzek to go to the movies.”
“Why would you go to the movies with Ruzek?” Jay asked, finding the idea vexing.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t!” Will said. He flailed his arms just a little. “That’s my point. If you throw a party, it’s going to be sympathy guests and freeloaders. I don’t want that, especially since I’d have to explain to most of them why I got fired.”
Jay held up his finger. “Technically, you quit.”
“You keep bringing that up, but I’m really not sure you fully grasp the part where Goodwin fired me without letting me say a single word,” Will pointed out. “Almost ten years of employment, and she kicked my ass to the curb without as much as a goodbye.”
Jay groaned, flopping backward. “Fine,” he said. “No party. But we are celebrating.”
“Still not seeing it as a cause to celebrate--”
But Jay was insistent. “Well, you’re stupid and your opinion doesn’t matter.”
Will nodded along facetiously. “Nice.”
Jay grinned at him. “Glad you agree,” he said. “So what do you think? Dinner and drinks?”
“Just dinner,” Will said. “Some place simple.”
“You’re boring,” Jay said. “I’ll come up with something.”
Will gave his brother a look of warning. “Jay--”
It was a look that Jay wholeheartedly ignored. He started to get up, snagging another piece of pizza as he did. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
Will got up after him, closing up the box of pizza to put it in the fridge. “Something quiet. Just the two of us.”
“I told you it’ll be good,” Jay said, somehow sounding indignant. “Now, shut up. We need to get these last boxes down to the car and drop them off at the storage facility. Are you sure you don’t need any of it? You’re not keeping a lot.”
Will gave the last of his belongings a look and shrugged. “I can’t take much with me overseas,” he said. “Shipping prices are ridiculous.”
“Sure, but you’re acting like you can put your whole life into a suitcase and a carry on,” Jay said.
“That’s just how it is,” Will said, not sure what other explanation to offer. “There’s not as much down time over there anyway.”
Jay made a face. “Every time you talk about this job, it sounds less and less appealing.”
“And I keep telling you, every time we talk about it, how important it is,” Will said, delineating the point once more.
Jay remained unimpressed. “Whatever,” he said. He bent down to hoist up two of the boxes. “At least your stuff will be safe in storage. Just waiting there for when you come back home.”
Will knew what Jay was saying there, and he didn’t have the heart to contradict him. Jay still thought Chicago was the endgame. Jay still believed his brother belonged here.
He didn’t have the heart to tell Jay anything to the contrary. His brother had been through too much, and he’d been far too good to him. Instead of offering a sober contradiction, Will picked up the next two boxes and followed suit.
After all, one of them deserved to hope.