Chicago Med fic: Restitution (10/10)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
And it was dark.
And it was long.
Will wasn’t sure which way was down or up, if he was alive or dead. Did it matter? Did he have a preference?
“Just keep your eyes on the road -- do not stop.”
He was jarred, rocking to the side. Beneath him, everything was moving, and he was only just aware enough to realize they were in the back of a car.
“Where are the supplies? Where--?”
-o-
Then, Will’s eyes were open.
The rocking of the car had eased, somewhat, but Will still felt the vibrations of the road. It took him a moment to realize that he was still breathing, and that was about the only reassuring fact he could recall at the moment.
Blinking again, he let his head roll to the side. It took his eyes a moment to focus on the figure there -- tall, dark and smiling with relief.
“It is about time,” Adam said. He was leaned toward Will, but his arm was elevated and resting on one of the seats. He was holding an IV bag, and the tubing was attached to Will’s arm. Adam pursed his lips and shook his head. “I cannot leave you alone for one minute, can I?”
Adam was joking, but Will’s deductive reasoning was just a few steps ahead of his response time. With a shaky breath, he found his mouth dry. Forcing a swallow, he winced as he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean -- it happened so far--”
He wasn’t sure what part he was apologizing for -- probably all of it, from the second he arrived to right now.
Adam’s lax features turned a bit more serious. He reached out, patting Will on the shoulder. “You do not need to apologize,” he said. “You must relax, rest. You are still pretty weak. I want to get another liter in you before we get to the safe zone outside the city.”
That was new information, and Will looked around once more. Weary as he was, he couldn’t see anything beyond the cluttered interior of Adam’s SUV. He caught snippets of the daylight outside, and he could hear voices from up front. “Where are we?” he asked, eyes drifting back to Adam.
Adam nodded to the front of the car. “We crossed the checkpoint an hour ago, but chaos has erupted all throughout the city,” he said. “The military is trying to evacuate as many people as possible in order to bring the violence back in check. We have a field hospital set up in one of the designated safe zones. From what we’ve been able to hear, most of our people are already safe and there.”
Will stared at him, trying to process all that information. He was tired, though. He was just so tired.
Adam squeezed his shoulder once more. “Your plan worked, Halstead,” he said. “You saved us all.”
It seemed like a dream, surreal and out of context. Will could hear Ms. Goodwin telling him he was fired just like it was yesterday. Stupid mistakes, stupid choices -- Will still didn’t know if he could ever really change.
But the car rocked. Adam’s touch was steady.
And Will closed his eyes again.
-o-
He came to several more times, but consciousness didn’t last for more than a matter of seconds. He felt the car come to a stop, and he heard voices. Sunlight blinded him, and he was lifted--
--and put down. “I’d like a chest x-ray, a fast scan and a head CT, if I could--”
Someone pressed down on his ribs, and Will heard himself call out.
“Let’s get prepped for a chest tube.”
Something cold swabbed his side, and a voice was clear in his ear. “This will hurt a little.”
And fire erupted--
“Do you know where you are, Dr. Halstead? Do you remember what happened?”
Will blinked up at blinding lights, and tried to remember to breathe.
“Dr. Halstead?”
--and Will slept.
On and on.
Will slept.
-o-
When he woke up again, he was aware of the passage of time by the clarity of it. He was in a bed now, with his scrubs gone and a hospital gown in place. The IV was still in his hand, but it had been hung by this point, and when he craned his neck, he could see his own vitals on the monitor behind him.
Steady. Stable.
Running through it on his own, he was able to quickly deduce a few things. A bandage head and a pounding headache, along with prolonged unconsciousness and diminished capacity -- probably a moderate concussion, possibly a hairline fracture or a small bleed.
His chest was bound tightly -- no doubt to mend his broken ribs. He still had a chest tube -- which meant he’d had a pneumothorax.
His wrist was splinted, but he still could move his fingers -- a bad sprain, not a break. Everything else hurt, but nothing was acute, which meant that it was likely general bruises and lacerations.
In other words, Will concluded on his own, he was probably going to be fine.
He wanted to take some comfort in that self diagnosis, but flat on his back, still too tired to lift himself out of the hospital bed, there wasn’t much to find comforting. Looking around, he could tell this wasn’t a traditional hospital. It looked like the field hospitals he remembered from his first stint in Africa, and just when he was considering pushing the call button, one of the nurses turned up of her own accord.
Will didn’t recognize her, but she smiled warmly. “You’re awake. That’s good.”
Will ignored the pleasantries. “Where are we?”
“An hour outside the city,” she replied. “How are your pain levels? We haven’t been able to run a head CT yet, so we are watching your mental status quite closely to ensure there is no sign of a bleed.”
“It’s fine,” Will said dismissively. “Where’s Adam?”
“Dr. Goshit is busy -- as you can imagine, there are a lot of administrative headaches right now,” she said. “And your ribs? We are hoping to take out the chest tube soon--”
“And where is everyone else? Did they all make it out?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Dr. Goshit warned us that you would be difficult,” she said. “She said to tell you that everyone made it out. It worked.”
Will sank back, feeling the anxiety start to diminish.
The nurse busied herself with Will’s vitals. “He also said to watch you carefully because you would try to ignore sound medical advice,” she said with a pointed look down her nose at him. “And if you show any signs of trying to get up or move around, I have permission to sedate you.”
Will wanted to be offended, but there wasn’t really much point. Instead, he allowed her to continue her exam and merely asked, “Is everyone really safe?”
“There were casualties, yes,” she said, making a few notes on his chart. “But your evacuation was successful. All three ambulances, both supply trucks, and the SUV -- you were the only injury.”
She had no reason to lie, but Will had no reason to believe. He felt his eyes burn again as he struggled to take a breath and hold it. “Really?”
“Really,” she said, simple and matter of fact. Then, she turned to Will’s IV, pushing in a fresh injection. “I’m afraid your painkiller dose is still fairly strong. We need you to stay as still as possible, and Dr. Goshit thought this was for the best. Rest now, Dr. Halstead. Just rest.”
The rush of drugs was fast and effective, and Will felt tingling in his extremities before the warmth eased into his chest. It pulled him back seductively, dulling the pounding in his head and relaxing the vice grip on his chest.
And Will was untethered once more.
-o-
Will slipped in and out, buoyed to consciousness only when the drugs wore off. At some point, he got a head CT and was cleared from serious complication. His ribs still hurt like hell, but the chest tube was removed and someone cleared him for a reduced drug cocktail. With his newfound consciousness, Will was keenly aware of just how badly he’d been beaten.
He was also keenly aware that he’d been out of contact with the outside world for a few days now. It took some work to get his phone back -- it had been shuffled around with his scant personal belongings in the field hospital -- and then it took even longer to find a charger to get his phone back up and running again.
By the time it was working, he was able to sit up again, which was just in time to field the string of anxious text messages from everyone back in Chicago. Most of them he genuinely skimmed, taking a few seconds just to reply to Maggie to tell her he was fine. If Maggie knew, then everyone else who cared at Med would know, too, so it felt like he was covering all his bases.
There was also a string of understated texts from Natalie, which seemed to verge on something more but were couched in restraint.
Just saw that your hospital is on the news. Are you okay?
And then, a day later.
Just really want to hear from you.
Finally, today.
I know it’s got to be crazy, but just anything to know you’re okay.
He’d risked his career for her -- he’d given up his future for her -- and he decided she warranted a reply.
I’m okay. Crazy few days. I’ll tell you about it someday. But I’m okay.
Those messages were necessarily short, however. Because between the multitude of inquiries, Will also had messages from Jay.
Will had lots of messages.
As best he could tell, Jay had texted him hourly. The phone calls had started at a rate of every few hours, but there were periods when they had been nearly every five minutes. Although the texts and voicemails started out with banter, they had soon progressed into threats and outright fear.
In short, back in Chicago, Jay was clearly freaking out -- and had been for the last few days.
While Will wanted to immediately assuage his brother’s anxieties, he felt trepidation of his own. Facing down armed gangster hadn’t been easy. But facing his brother’s wrath when he found how what Will had done? Yeah, that was going to be a whole different level of intense.
Still, Will started this.
He had to finish it.
That meant going through to the very, very end, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
Gathering a breath, he let it out. He still felt tired, weak and sore, but he couldn’t plead unconsciousness any longer. Fingers hesitating over the call button, he accepted his fate just as he had before and pressed call.
With the overseas distance, the call took some time to connect. However, once it started ringing, Jay’s answer was almost immediate.
“Will?” Jay asked. He heard a small curse and a flurry of movement. “Will, is that you?”
Will found himself posturing sympathetically. He had lost track of time; he had no idea what Jay was doing or where he was. “Yeah, Jay--”
Will heard Jay swear again, a noise punctuated by both anger and relief. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you nonstop for days.”
Jay wasn’t make an overt accusation, but Will felt inherently guilty anyway. “I know -- I just got my phone charged again,” he said. “I would have called sooner -- I swear -- but things just got a little crazy.”
To be fair, everything he was saying was absolutely true.
To be more fair, he was presenting a very idealized version of the truth that would hold up to precisely no scrutiny. Especially not the inevitable questioning of his overly concerned elite detective of a brother.
“Uh, yeah,” Jay said. “I’ve been following the news and, what the hell? Why didn’t you call me? Like immediately?”
“Well, I didn’t know for sure it was making headlines,” Will admitted. “And I mean, it wasn’t that bad.”
Even as he said it, Will knew it was nothing more than crap. It was in his nature to downplay risks to himself, and he knew it wasn’t good. But he liked to think this was more for Jay’s benefit now than his own.
Not that it was going to actually work. Jay sounded positively put off. “How was it not that bad?” he asked. “I told you: I saw the news. All the news. I had to use Google translate to read some of the local papers, but it sounded pretty bad no matter what news source I was going with.”
Will was duly chagrined. “I know, I do. It was a little bad.”
He was trying to mitigate his brother’s worry, but he was vastly underestimating just how concerned his brother had been. “A little? Yesterday, I got so freaked out that I hadn’t heard from you that I started calling the state department,” he said. “I had Voight pull some strings, and I ended up talking to some deputy director in some place near you, and she kept assuring me you weren’t dead as though that was supposed to be the only thing I wanted to know.”
“It’s not the state department’s fault,” Will said almost out of reflex. “The field hospital where I was transferred is pretty remote. We’re still working on establishing basic protocols and lines of communication. Tracking down patients and families is a whole other ballgame.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, voice hitching again. “All the more reason you should have called.”
“I know,” Will said, because he did know. He just didn’t have any way to change what had happened. “Just -- things got -- I don’t know. Things were rough on the way out.”
He hadn’t meant to imply anything. In actuality, he’d been trying to imply the opposite -- that everything was fine and dandy.
Jay, whether from his honed instincts as a cop or his impulses as a brother, knew better.
“Are you okay?” he asked almost immediately. “Are you hurt?”
Will winced, shifting uncomfortably back on his bed in the ward. The bruises were still vivid, and it still ached to move. His breathing was mostly back to normal, but sometimes he still felt a twinge from the site of the chest tube. “I’m fine,” he said.
In an effort to sound convincing, Will couldn’t have sounded less convincing.
“You’re fine?” Jay parroted back to him with clear skepticism.
Will could continue to lie -- across an ocean, Jay couldn’t prove him wrong. But that wasn’t what Will wanted for their relationship. He owed Jay the truth, even if he knew his brother was going to hate hearing it.
“I’m fine now,” Will said. “I told you, things got a little rough, and the hospital was the center of a lot of the violence. I was in charge of the evacuation. It wasn’t a perfect situation.”
He was telling Jay a lot now, but he wasn’t telling his brother what he actually wanted to hear.
“Not a perfect situation? You’re fine now?” Jay said, his ire beginning to audibly rise. “Will, what the hell aren’t you telling me?”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal -- it really wasn’t -- but we had to work out a deal with the gang members to get out, and it got a little hairy at the end,” Will explained. He felt conspicuous sitting there, even though no one was watching him. Most of the other patients on the ward were sleeping or dropping in and out of different stages of consciousness. “I just -- got roughed up a little bit.”
Eloquence was not his forte. “Roughed up?” Jay repeated, sounding more incredulous with each passing beat of conversation.
“The gangsters just lost their patience a little bit,” Will said. “Things took longer than expected, and I just wasn’t fast enough.”
Jay made an unintelligible sound of discontent. “They lost their patience?”
Will flopped back gingerly, rolling his eyes. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
“Are you going to say something that actually makes sense?” Jay shot back. “Will, what happened? Tell it to me straight, or I swear to you, I will get on a plane right now and come talk to you in person.”
“Okay, okay,” Will said, relenting again. “It was hard, okay? They came right at the hospital, and I had to get creative with the evacuation plan. So, we negotiated, and it went south at the last minute. No one else was hurt in the evacuation, but they beat me up a little -- but I’m okay. I swear to you, I’m okay.”
“They beat you up?” Jay asked. “Will--”
“Mostly superficial,” Will said, providing his brother the context he knew was about to be demanded. “Bruises, cuts. I had a mild concussion and a tension pneumothorax, but it was mostly the exhaustion and adrenaline crash that wiped me out. I think I slept for two days straight after we got out, and I promise, I tried to call you right away, but I couldn’t find my phone, and then I had to charge it--”
“But you’re okay?” Jay asked, interjecting again. This time, his voice wasn’t angry. The ire had faded. There was a strangled quality to it instead, as if the strained emotion was almost too much. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Will said, almost taken aback by the depth of his brother’s concern. He wasn’t sure why it surprised him -- he and Jay were all that were left -- but sometimes it still forgot just how much that meant. “Jay, I’m really fine. The chest tube is out. The concussion has cleared. I’m bruised and sore, but that’s it.”
Over the line, Jay was silent for a moment. “You scared me,” he said finally. “And it scares me more than I didn’t even know I was supposed to be scared.”
“I would have called--” Will started to say.
But Jay continued. “I know you would have,” he said. “I know how things are between us now, and I know you’re doing what you need to do. But it scares me to think I could lose you and never even know.”
“Jay--”
“No, Will -- just listen,” Jay said, and his voice was uncomfortably tight. “All the times you left before, I didn’t have to think about you. I didn’t have to worry. You were gone, and it was your own damn choice, and whatever. I resented you more than I worried at all about you.”
This was old news, of course, but Will couldn’t pretend like it still didn’t hurt. Now, more than ever, because he’d resolved so much to change.
“And so I thought, you going again -- it wouldn’t be that big of deal, I’d learned to deal with it, but I got tell you, man, I’m not dealing with it. It is a big deal,” he said. “And that’s not to guilt you or whatever. I get what you’re doing -- I do. I just -- I need you to know -- you’re not expendable. You’re out there doing your penance, saving lives, finishing what you started -- but you’re more than that. You’re my brother, and I -- I don’t know. I love you.”
Will’s chest was tight, and his eyes were burning. “Jay, you know I love you, too.”
“I do,” Jay said. And he almost sounded like he laughed. “That just makes it worse. I do know that.”
His brother drew a ragged breath and seemed to sniffle.
“So, I’m just saying, while you’re fighting for everyone else, fight for yourself, too,” he said. “Or, you know, fight for me. Please? Do it for me?”
Will closed his eyes, nodding his head in small rapid motions. “I’ll try,” he said. “I promise you, Jay. I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask for,” Jay said. “Well, that and a phone call the next time things go sideways.”
Will choked on a sob that turned into a laugh. “Definitely,” he said, with a growing feeling that might have been hope. “Definitely.”
-o-
Back at home in Chicago, there was no way Jay could visit, although he did call and text so regularly that Will wondered how he was getting any work done. Will was still being monitored by the medical staff, though the ward was cluttered, crowded and a little chaotic. Which was to say, Will was resting but it wasn’t always the most restful experience.
To make matters worse -- or better, Will couldn’t exactly tell -- he had a lot of visitors. He hadn’t been sure how going out for drinks would translate into actual friendship, but apparently, he was the only one with doubts. Doctors, nurses, techs -- everyone up and down the line stopped by to make sure he was doing okay.
Then, almost to a person, they ended their visits by thanking him.
Sometimes, profusely.
That wasn’t just awkward.
It was a little bit mind-boggling.
When Will looked back on it, he wasn’t sure how his actions equated to anything of substance. He had been trying to do the right thing. Apparently, while trying to act like part of the community, he had inadvertently become part of that community.
An important part, if his overly emotional visitors were any indication.
One nurse, who visited early in the morning with her own arm in a sling, exemplified this better than the rest. She seemed shy at first, but she quickly took up a spot by his bed with a simple invitation and proceeded to tell him her whole life story.
He listened as best he could, trying to pick up the disparate pieces of her failed engagement and her estrangement from her parents and how she was better on both fronts over the last few days. He told her that he was happy things were going better, and she looked a little surprised.
“I’m telling you this to thank you,” she said.
“Oh,” he replied. “Well, that’s not necessary--”
He was about to launch into what was now a familiar refrain for him. How this was his responsibility, how he had an obligation, how he took his duty to save lives seriously, but she didn’t let him.
“No, you don’t get it,” she said. “I’ve been here for five years now, all throughout the continent. And I’ve lived through situations like this before.”
Will gave her a sympathetic look. “I would like to think it’s not that common.”
“But it is, and it’s part of what we sign on for,” she said. “Some people are made for it, and others aren’t.”
“Well,” Will said with a reassuring bob of his head. “Seems like you’re made of the tough stuff.”
She laughed, and she shook her head. “No, you’re still not getting it,” she said. “I’ve heard this story before. I’ve lived it. And most of the time, it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
“And this one isn’t exactly picture perfect,” Will reminded her. “Did we ever get a count on the official death toll?”
She drew her lips soberly together. “About 15 total at the hospital, including staff and security. No patients, thank goodness. Five of the gangsters also died in the shootout, but they’re still trying to tally the city-wide count.”
Will felt his heart sink, and he felt a little bit nauseated. “That many people?”
“And it would have been more,” she said readily. “I mean, honestly? I stayed expecting to die. But you gave me a chance to live -- to be here to tell the story. I don’t even know what to make of that, so all I can do is sit here and tell you how grateful I am.”
The praise seemed ill-placed. Will shook his head. “I was just doing what anyone would do. Just the job.”
Her eyes goggled a little bit. “No one else did that,” she said. “Literally, not a single other person.”
“Well, you might,” he ventured.
And she sat back, looking at him curiously. “I would have stayed until the end -- that’s true,” she said. “But you didn’t just have the guts. You had the presence of mind. You had both, and that’s why I’m always going to remember you, Dr. Halstead.”
What could he say?
What could he do?
It was just like Adam said, maybe. You accepted what you could not change.
And try to keep doing your best anyway.
-o-
If he was uncomfortable with his reaction from his colleagues and overwhelmed by the response from his brother, he was downright terrified of what his superiors were going to say about the debacle. Adam had texted him a few times, mostly just to say he was fine and busy trying to clear things up. Will had asked for more information, but Adam appeared to be busy. Either that, or he was avoiding Will.
And maybe he was.
After all, Will’s plan had had widespread impact. Adam had gone along with it, but he hadn’t really had much choice. By the time Adam knew what was going on, things had advanced too far. You couldn’t unring a bell, and it was very possible that Adam was trying to deal with that aftermath.
Because, there had to be an aftermath. Will had turned over the hospital to gangsters. News coverage in the field hospital was spotty, but the updates were impossible not to hear. Terms like total loss were thrown around, and no one seemed to think they would be going back any time soon. Possibly because there was nothing to go back, too.
That was on Will. People could laud him for saving lives, but the practical toll of his choices had to be reckoned with. He’d cost the organization money. If the hospital couldn’t be repurposed, he could have cost people their jobs -- their lives.
He had been mulling over resigning preemptively, just to avoid the inevitable conflict, but he was too slow. Before he could get his mind around the task, he was summoned to another meeting. He was expecting to meet with the field hospital’s temporary director in his makeshift tent office. Instead, when he arrived, he found a man in a suit coat and tie, looking expectant.
Will knew this man -- a Dr. Roland -- from his visits to the hospital. Adam was always on his best behavior when Dr. Roland inspected, and Will had always got the sense that this man decided what floated and sank at the hospital.
“Dr. Halstead!” the man said, lumbering up to greet him. He was slightly rotund with a well trimmed gray beard and sharp eyes. “I am Dr. Roland, the regional director here.”
Will accepted the handshake, wishing he’d known the boss was coming. He was still wearing sweats and sporting a nasty shiner. He’d been in to talk to the field director several times, just to go over paperwork, and Will had assumed this was an insurance issue. Needless to say, he was ill prepared for a performance review.
“Good to meet you,” he said, mustering as much cordiality as he could. He swallowed awkwardly and stepped back. “I’ve seen you around, and Dr. Goshit has talked about you.”
Dr. Roland laughed. “Then, I’m sure you have a questionable impression of me,” he said. He gestured to one of the chairs as he sat down himself. “Will you sit?”
It was a question, but not one with a real answer. Will obliged, and he could feel himself start to sweat already as he contemplated his various defenses. No, no defenses. He would admit to everything and then offer his resignation. Simple, to the point, accountable.
With a sigh, Dr. Roland adjusted his position, seeming to struggle to get comfortable. He made a face, blotting his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, and smiled at Will once more. “This location is strategically viable, and it certainly seems to work practically, but I don’t know how there isn’t a spate of heat stroke in these conditions,” he said with a little shake of his head as he put the cloth away. “We’re currently looking for a better temporary location.”
He gestured around at the tent, which was buffeted with fans.
“Something with walls. Air conditioning,” Dr. Roland said.
Will wasn’t sure if this was small talk or if it was the start of his review. Will sat forward anxiously, feeling words well up in his throat but he couldn’t figure out which ones to say.
Dr. Roland sighed, shrugging a little. “We have officially reclaimed control of the hospital, but I can’t lie to you. It is a mess,” he said. “Worse, accessibility is extremely limited. The police have called in the military to restore order, but the process has been slow and fraught with caveats, as I’m sure you can understand.”
Will nodded like he understood, even though he really had no clue. He was an ED doc. All the rest -- he was out of his depth.
“Anyway,” Dr. Roland said with a dramatic furl of his hand. “The hospital is clear, but that zone of the city is still under restricted access. I have to debate constantly with as many local authorities as I can talk to about when we can start shipping staff back to at least assess the condition of the place. From my understanding, it is not good, but it’s not clear if we’re looking at a total loss just yet.”
Will’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he had to rub his sweaty palms on his sweatpants. “I have to apologize,” he said, finally just blurting the words. “I know that I was in charge for a lot of this, and my actions had a direct impact on all of these outcomes. I made choices in the heat of the moment without authorization, and I know I broke protocol, and I take full responsibility for the outcome.”
The words left him spent, the outburst of emotion almost more than he knew quite how to handle. It was a necessary thing, though, and the influx of adrenaline almost felt like palpable relief.
Across from him, Dr. Roland looked surprised. He sat back, and he cocked his head. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying here.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Will said. “I know my actions have consequences, and I am ready to face those consequences, whatever you deem them to be.”
This time, the bigger man actually laughed. “Dr. Halstead, you really don’t understand what I am saying here,” he said. He took out the handkerchief again and fiddled with it. “I will admit, when you were offered a position, I had my reservations. Just knowing you had been here before and left early -- well, it didn’t make you very viable. But Dr. Goshit spoke so highly of you that I had to give you another look. Plus, we have been extremely short staffed. Beggars and choosers, you know?”
It was a frank preamble, at least. No mincing words. It would be over soon, and Will braced himself. At least Jay would be happy this time if he came back with his tail between his legs.
Dr. Roland pointlessly folded the handkerchief once more. “I’m a proud man, but I’m not a stupid one. I know when to admit I’m wrong, and I was wrong about you, Dr. Halstead,” he said. He shook his head as if in some state of disbelief. “The frequency of your name in positive reports from the hospital have been impossible to ignore, and now that I’ve had time to fully review this incident with multiple eye witness accounts -- I am positively pleased to be wrong. You have proven yourself to be capable and trustworthy. Your judgment under pressure is nothing short of impeccable.”
He was gushing now, so effusive that Will thought he might actually be imagining things.
“I hate to ever feed Dr. Goshit’s tremendous ego, but I’m certainly pleased I took his advice and approve your hire,” he said. “Your work, your dedication -- it’s all exemplary. You have proven that you are exactly the kind of doctor we need to make this organization stay relevant in the years to come.”
Will’s mouth was hanging open, and he could hear his heart pounding between his hears. “But I broke protocol.”
This reply seemed to confound Dr. Roland. “To save lives and with no other recourse,” he said. “We have developed our policies for a reason, but this is hardly the first time they’ve been disregarded. And really, I would like to think that more of us would break the same protocols to come to a similar conclusion. You understood what lines needed to be crossed -- and which ones to hold. As I said before, it’s just exemplary.”
Will was still at a loss. “But the supplies--”
“Can be replaced,” Dr. Roland said. “We are always running at a deficit, and this is why insurance exists. People are by far our most precious commodity.”
This time, Will couldn’t even come up with a response.
Dr. Roland chuckled. “Come now!” he said. “You look like I’m about to fire you!”
The mere mention of the word hit him like a punch in the gut. All the growth he’d had, and the truth was, he still wasn’t over it. He could still remember standing in Ms. Goodwin’s office, thinking he had one more out, just to come face to face with the end of everything he’d built for a decade.
It was all he could do to keep his panic from overwhelming him.
Dr. Roland seemed to sense it, too. “Oh, Dr. Halstead!” he said with a short, breathless laugh. “I didn’t call you here to fire you! Not at all! I brought you here today to give you a promotion.”
Dr. Roland actually spoke very good English, even though he had a European accent. Yet, the clear and concise language, while perfectly understandable, didn’t compute for him at all. “A what?” was all he could bring himself to say.
“A promotion,” Dr. Roland repeated, looking at Will with a little bit of wonder and a touch of concern.
Will blinked hard, trying to get his wits and failing. “But why?”
The question was the only coherent thing Will could come up with, but Dr. Roland seemed perplexed. “Because you showed that you possess real leadership material, and we would be foolish not to leverage you more.”
“But,” Will started and stopped, failing to grasp the nuances here. “I have a job.”
“Yes, as an attending under Dr. Goshit,” Dr. Roland said. “I have discussed this with him, and he agrees that your talents are being underutilized.”
Will frowned. “But I have a place there.”
A place he’d worked hard to find, build and maintained. A place he could not -- would not -- take for granted.
“And yet, there is no place there,” Dr. Roland said coyly. “The sad truth that we are not making explicit is that we are months from reopening -- and that timeline is ambitious. Many staff are going to be repurposed in the meantime, and we will deal with staffing the reopened facility when the time comes. We have immediate needs right now across our network, needs that you are perfectly poised to fill.”
There it was: the understandable bottom line.
No compliments. No posturing.
Just needs to be filled.
Will nodded now, suddenly resolute. “I came here to serve, in any way I can.”
Dr. Roland looked pleased now. “And we don’t want to lose you,” he said with an avuncular sort of vigor. “See this as our way of saying thank you.”
“Well, I don’t need thanks,” Will deferred.
Dr. Roland was not easily deterred, however. “Then see it as our way of saying keep up the good work.”
Will hesitated, but he could find nothing to object to there. “Okay,” he agreed finally.
Looking pleased, Dr. Roland clapped his hands together. “Very good! It’s settled, then!” he said. “I’ll have the paperwork brought up to make this all official, and I will be sure to include a packet about your next job site.” He leaned forward with a bit of a wink. “It is one of our better ones, if I do say so myself. But read things over, get a feel for it. Submit the paperwork as soon as you’re done.”
Will nodded, trying to acclimate himself to this sudden shift in mindset. “And when will I start?”
Dr. Roland looked at him. “When are you cleared for work?”
Will shrugged. “In a few days.”
Dr. Roland grinned. “Then you can start in a few days,” he said. Will got to his feet stiffly, moving slowly to the door. “Let me know if you need anything!”
On the outside, Will tried to think through that question.
Will need something, that much was sure.
He just had no idea what at this point.
-o-
Back at his bunk, Will sat down. Someone invited him to dinner, and Will replied that he’d be there soon without even looking to see who it was. He was still sitting there, somewhat vexed by this turn of events, when a page delivered his paperwork a few hours later.
He looked over the contract first, surprised by its generous terms. Better pay, better hours, more benefits -- the works.
And skimming through the packet on the hospital -- it hardly looked like it was from the same network. State of the art, well established, outfitted with the best staff -- it looked like paradise compared to the makeshift operation Adam had been forced to run. The disparity was explained by the donor page, which detailed how the hospital had attracted some of the best private funders in the continent.
In short, Will wasn’t just getting a promotion. He was being offered the promotion. All his angst about losing out to Ethan, and now he was being handed his very own ED in one of the leading hospitals.
He had come to serve, that was true, but he didn’t know what to make of this. It seemed like too much, too fast. Truth be told, he didn’t think he could trust himself.
It scared him, being happy and comfortable -- a lot more than being ill equipped and out of his element.
He got up eventually and went to dinner, but he didn’t taste the food and he didn’t remember the conversation. He was stuck on the notion that he was pretty sure he could do this.
At this point, however, he just wasn’t sure that he should.
-o-
Given that his last lapse in communication had coincided with a gang takeover and getting beaten to unconsciousness, Will was purposeful in maintaining daily contact with his brother. Since he was still not cleared to return to normal activities, it was easier than ever to keep up with Jay’s random texts -- and he made a point to do so. He’d put Jay through enough.
With texts throughout the day, Will still called on a near-daily basis. He did it for Jay’s sake, but he had to admit, he liked talking to his brother. With so much up in the air right now, his brother’s practical perspective helped him stay invariably grounded.
Considering Will’s tendency to make stupid choices under emotional duress, this seemed like a wise way to approach things.
Especially now that his job situation was suddenly up in the air again.
This was different, of course. This time he hadn’t been fired. He hadn’t even been reprimanded. This was a promotion, and Will knew technically that was supposed to be a good thing. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
There was no reason not to tell Jay. In fact, he knew if he told Jay, his brother would be thrilled and probably unreasonably proud. That was, ultimately, why Will was hesitant.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to celebrate.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit his own progress.
With Jay in Chicago and Will in Africa, it probably should have been easy to hide it, but still, it was the first thing out of Will’s mouth when he called his brother that night.
“I got a promotion,” he blurted after they had exchanged civil pleasantries.
They were not on a video chat -- at Will’s insistence, while he had admitted that he’d been roughed up during the hostilities, he knew his brother would freak out when he saw just how bruised Will was -- so it was impossible to see the blank look on Jay’s face. It wasn’t hard to hear, though. “What?” Jay asked, as though he’d misheard.
Will shrugged. He had been released, technically, but the staff was still all sequestered at the hospital. He found there was little difference from the hospital tent and the housing tent -- except for the fact that he didn’t have to sleep with an IV in his arm anymore. “They promoted me.”
“They -- did?” Jay said, catching onto what Will was saying. His voice immediately sounded more upbeat. “That’s great, man. Congratulations!”
Will looked around warily. There wasn’t much privacy in the housing tent, though during this part of the day, most people were out on duty or spending time in the yard. The organization was still assessing whether or not the hospital could be reclaim, and how soon, and people were getting restless. “I guess,” he said, slumping back with a sigh. “It doesn’t feel great.”
“Why not?” Jay asked. “What kind of promotion is it?”
“I’ll be management now,” he said. “Probably Chief of the ED.”
“But that’s Adam’s job, I thought.”
“It is,” Will said. “This hospital isn’t going to be up and running for awhile, so they’re reallocating some staff as needed. I got a spot at one of the bigger hospitals -- the flagship one that’s on all their websites and stuff.”
“So a better hospital?” Jay asked, sounding more interested than ever. “In a safer city?”
“Probably,” Will said. “It’s got more bells and whistles, too. It’s not going to be like Med or anything, but it’s still a world-class hospital.”
Jay laughed, as if he couldn’t quite grasp what Will’s reticence was about. “That’s great news, then. I mean, that’s a hell of a promotion. Chief of the ED? The best hospital? Sounds like you’re going straight to the top.”
Will sighed again, and he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Dude,” Jay said, and he sounded exasperated now. “How can you not know? Literally everything about this job is better than your old job.”
“I know,” Will said. “But that’s the thing. I didn’t come here for bells and whistles. I came here to serve.”
“No,” Jay reminded him promptly. “You went there to do a job -- a job you did so well that now they want to hire you for another job.”
Will let his head drift to the side, watching people through one of the clear flaps designed as windows. There was a game of pickup soccer in the yard, but he wasn’t allowed to do physical activity yet. “I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
As expected, Jay’s reaction was over the top. “Are you crazy? They’re offering you a promotion -- and a good one by the sounds of it. Of course you’re taking it.”
Will knew he was starting to sound like a broken record -- he was starting to feel like one, too. Like he was stuck on repeat, going through the same thing over and over again. He just didn’t know how to make the outcome different.
“But I didn’t come here for this,” he said, not sure how else to explain the dissonance in his head.
“You just said it yourself: You came to do the job,” Jay said flatly. “If that’s really why you’re there, then you’ll take this promotion. But if this is still some mess up version of penance--”
“I admitted that it might be both,” Will protested.
“And okay, then let’s look at it as penance,” Jay said. “You put in four months of hell. That’s penance well served, if you ask me. Now, you get your reward.”
“Jay, you really don’t know anything about penance do you,” Will said.
“I am, at best, a lapsed Catholic,” Jay acknowledged. “That crap was always more your thing, but the idea makes sense. You screwed up, you made amends. You get to move on, right? That’s the whole point of penance.”
Will drew a breath and he shook his head. “Maybe I can move on, but a reward? I don’t know, Jay.”
He could practically hear Jay rolling his eyes. “You are so impossible. Fine, then just think of it as the next level of your penance. Still a sacrifice but not quite as trying.”
Will sat up a little, drawn out of his malaise by Jay’s insistence. “You’re really making a hard sell on this one, aren’t you?”
Jay scoffed. “Um, to get you out of a warzone? Hell, yes.”
That point was one Will couldn’t deny. “Well, fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, no, there’s nothing to think about, bro,” Jay said. “Take the job.”
“There’s a little to think about,” Will objected.
Jay made a disgruntled noise that translated through the static of the call. “You are so lucky that you’r ein Africa, or I would come there and kick your ass for being so stupid. Take the promotion, asshole.”
The threats were only endearing now, and Will found himself smiling. “Sure, Jay. I love you, too.”
“Look, just call me, whatever you decide,” Jay said. “And preferably before something else life threatening occurs.”
“I’ll do my best,” Will promised.
“Uh huh,” Jay quipped. “Do better than your best, okay?”
That was a tall order, and Will knew himself well enough to know that much.
For Jay, though, he’d try.
-o-
His recovery continued with unabated success. Soon, with staff stretched thin, he was cleared to return to light duty -- which mostly meant checking bandages and keeping up with charts. It was a little on the boring side, but it gave Will plenty of time to contemplate his options.
Namely, the promotion.
There had been no deadline given on when he had to accept -- but there hadn’t even really been much discussion about him not accepting it. He had to figure, most people being offered a better job in a better location was a no brainer. Everyone assumed he wanted it.
And Will was running out of reasons for not wanting it.
Except one.
One important one.
Adam was hard to find these days. He found out that Adam was spending most of his time traveling, going to corporate meetings and making his way to and from the city. Now that the hospital was secure again, damage assessment had begun. As one of the members of the leadership team, Adam was the natural choice.
Accordingly, Will didn’t get to see him very often, but when Adam was back at the camp for any reason, he made a point to visit.
Over the last few weeks, Adam had looked tired and stressed.
Today, however, he seemed to have run himself ragged. Thinner than normal and a little gaunt, Adam showed all the signs of exhaustion. But when he saw Will, he still smiled and welcomed him with a hug.
“You are looking better!” Adam said.
Will pulled back. “You’re not. What are they doing to you?”
“Ah,” Adam said, swatting his hand through the air. “There is just much work to be done. We have administrative headaches -- liability issues, cost flow issues -- all of it. We’re not even sure how much damage has been done to the facility, and we are bickering with our insurance provider about the coverage for gang related violence.”
Will winced at the litany. “Sounds like I did screw things up--”
Adam scoffed at him. “You are the only reason we are able to do any of this, so none of that from you,” he said. “Besides, I hear that congratulations are in order.”
Will wasn’t surprised exactly that Adam knew. In some ways, it was easier that Will didn’t have to tell him. But nothing negated how hard the rest of this conversation could be. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it’s a pretty big promotion.”
“Pretty big?” Adam said with a grunt. “Chief of the ED! That is a big jump for someone who has been here less than six months!”
“I know,” Will said. He shook his head, feeling duly overwhelmed. “I keep feeling like it’s a mistake.”
“No, no, no mistake,” Adam assured him. “The talk about you -- it is relentless! There are many heroes in this story, but none like you. Everyone knows you by name now. Some people think you deserve a break. Others are just terrified that without a promotion, you will come to your senses and leave us.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Will said quickly. “I will finish what I started.”
“I know, I know,” Adam said, placating Will. “This I never doubted from the beginning.”
“Which you should have,” Will pointed out. “My track record--”
“Was from when you were a child,” Adam said. “If I was held accountable for my actions ten years ago!”
“You would be right here,” Will said. “We’re not the same, Adam.”
Adam sobered a little, and he drew a long breath as he looked Will over again. “Well, then, I am pleased that you have proven my judgement correct,” he said. “For now everyone sees what I saw from the start. My only regret is that now I have to rebuild on my own.”
Will stepped forward, intent once more. “I can stay,” he offered, and it wasn’t an idle offer. It wasn’t one he made in vain.
Adam knew him well enough to know that. His face contorted immediately. “Absolutely not! You will take this job!”
Will blinked, taken aback with some surprise at the vehemence. “You took a chance on me. I’d be happy to stay and take all the rest of the chances with you.”
“While your sentiment is noble, the practical reality contradicts you,” Adam said. He tipped his head to the side, letting his eyebrows draw together. “All you have accomplished, and you would keep us together? When the talent and dedication is needed elsewhere?”
There was a reasonable logic to that conclusion. Will lifted one shoulder. “So you take the new thing. It’s more opportunity, more perks. I mean, if you ask the board for it, then it’s got to be yours. I’ll stay here. Rebuild.”
Adam laughed, as though it might be a joke.
“I’m serious!”
“Oh, I know you’re serious,” Adam said. “That is why it is so funny.”
Will pursed his lips. “I don’t think I follow.”
Adam sighed. “Halstead, this is my city. This is my home. I have worked for years just to get to this point and build this hospital. I worked all over Africa. I spent years getting to the board. This is my project, and I would not part with it for anything else in this world.”
Those pieces of the puzzle seemed obvious now, and Will felt a little foolish for not putting them together. He knew how passionate Adam was -- how passionate he’d always been. And he knew this was his home. Connecting the dots should have been easy, had Will not be so focused on himself even now.
“Then let me stay,” Will said.
“But there are people everywhere who need help,” Adam said, insistent in his tone now. “So, go. Go help them -- it is a job I trust only to you.”
The protest was still raw in Will’s throat. “But--”
“But nothing,” Adam said before he could finish. “Look, Halstead, I know why I am here. I have told you why I am here. But you? You have no idea why you are here, not really. I have my suspicions, but it is yet to be revealed to you.”
“And you think I’ll find it with this new posting?” Will asked.
Adam made a little face. “Is it not worth a chance?”
Will looked away, feeling torn. The things Adam was saying -- they made sense. But the idea of it scared him as well. “I just don’t want to leave this unfinished. I can’t.”
Adam leaned forward, bracing him arm to arm now. “You have not, I assure you,” he said. “And given what I have seen from you the last few months, I know that you are not the man you were. I trusted you before when you did not deserve it. I trust you now because you do.”
Will braced him back, fingers giving his friend’s arm a solid squeeze. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
Adam nodded, resolute. “After all this, my friend, consider your debts paid in full.”
-o-
Wil had left Chicago in quiet shame and rejection. He’d been subdued, lonely and miserable. He hadn’t looked back because there had been nothing left for him to see.
This move, however, was different.
Heaped with praise and gratitude, Will felt embarrassed but without shame. He felt unworthy, to be sure, but instead of feeling miserable, he just felt confused. And he had no choice but to look back this time. Everything behind him was something he was going to miss.
And yet, moving ahead had never been easier.
When he’d first arrived in Africa the second time, he’d been on a cramped transatlantic flight, flying in business economy. He’d been greeted by Adam at the airport, who had shuttled him in his small, finicky old car all the way across town. It had been an inauspicious start, but Will had assumed that was simply the best the organization could drum up.
On this trip, however, he quickly realized that his previous treatment had been tied to the fact that he just wasn’t a very valuable asset.
How did he know?
Probably because he was flown first class across the continent. There was a luxury taxi waiting for him, and the agency had picked out his apartment for him. A big one on an upper level floor, right in the heart of downtown, overlooking the city.
Hell, one month’s rent cost more here than he’d earned in four months back with Adam. This was possible with the increased living stipend that he’d been given in addition to his paycheck.
In other words, he’d been working mostly as a volunteer before, earning just enough to survive.
Now? Now, he was an actual employee. As head of the ED here, he was a company man now. And although the organization was always stretched to the max in their supply budget, they seemed intent on retaining talent. Clearly, they wanted him to like this job.
And at first blush, Will wanted to like it, too.
After all, it was a more comfortable living situation. He would have spending money again -- hell, he might even be able to start to save again. Plus, as head of the ED, he would have a lot more flexibility in his hours. Not to mention that he was a boss now. There was prestige here, prestige he’d coveted but never attained back home.
That, of course, was what gave him pause.
This wasn’t supposed to be about getting everything he wanted.
If he got everything he wanted, then would he learn his lesson?
Did it mean anything?
Will couldn’t help it; it still didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Back in Chicago, he’d left a trail of devastation in his wake. Had Goodwin managed to repair the hospital’s reputation? Had Sabeena salvaged anything from the study or was her career put back because of him? Had Ethan recovered enough to take over the ED back from Archer again? How was Natalie settling in on the west coast?
He would wonder if they missed him, but it wasn’t a thought that deserved his attention.
He had to keep himself humble. Now, more than ever.
He was here to do the job.
No matter what, just the job.
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
And it was dark.
And it was long.
Will wasn’t sure which way was down or up, if he was alive or dead. Did it matter? Did he have a preference?
“Just keep your eyes on the road -- do not stop.”
He was jarred, rocking to the side. Beneath him, everything was moving, and he was only just aware enough to realize they were in the back of a car.
“Where are the supplies? Where--?”
-o-
Then, Will’s eyes were open.
The rocking of the car had eased, somewhat, but Will still felt the vibrations of the road. It took him a moment to realize that he was still breathing, and that was about the only reassuring fact he could recall at the moment.
Blinking again, he let his head roll to the side. It took his eyes a moment to focus on the figure there -- tall, dark and smiling with relief.
“It is about time,” Adam said. He was leaned toward Will, but his arm was elevated and resting on one of the seats. He was holding an IV bag, and the tubing was attached to Will’s arm. Adam pursed his lips and shook his head. “I cannot leave you alone for one minute, can I?”
Adam was joking, but Will’s deductive reasoning was just a few steps ahead of his response time. With a shaky breath, he found his mouth dry. Forcing a swallow, he winced as he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean -- it happened so far--”
He wasn’t sure what part he was apologizing for -- probably all of it, from the second he arrived to right now.
Adam’s lax features turned a bit more serious. He reached out, patting Will on the shoulder. “You do not need to apologize,” he said. “You must relax, rest. You are still pretty weak. I want to get another liter in you before we get to the safe zone outside the city.”
That was new information, and Will looked around once more. Weary as he was, he couldn’t see anything beyond the cluttered interior of Adam’s SUV. He caught snippets of the daylight outside, and he could hear voices from up front. “Where are we?” he asked, eyes drifting back to Adam.
Adam nodded to the front of the car. “We crossed the checkpoint an hour ago, but chaos has erupted all throughout the city,” he said. “The military is trying to evacuate as many people as possible in order to bring the violence back in check. We have a field hospital set up in one of the designated safe zones. From what we’ve been able to hear, most of our people are already safe and there.”
Will stared at him, trying to process all that information. He was tired, though. He was just so tired.
Adam squeezed his shoulder once more. “Your plan worked, Halstead,” he said. “You saved us all.”
It seemed like a dream, surreal and out of context. Will could hear Ms. Goodwin telling him he was fired just like it was yesterday. Stupid mistakes, stupid choices -- Will still didn’t know if he could ever really change.
But the car rocked. Adam’s touch was steady.
And Will closed his eyes again.
-o-
He came to several more times, but consciousness didn’t last for more than a matter of seconds. He felt the car come to a stop, and he heard voices. Sunlight blinded him, and he was lifted--
--and put down. “I’d like a chest x-ray, a fast scan and a head CT, if I could--”
Someone pressed down on his ribs, and Will heard himself call out.
“Let’s get prepped for a chest tube.”
Something cold swabbed his side, and a voice was clear in his ear. “This will hurt a little.”
And fire erupted--
“Do you know where you are, Dr. Halstead? Do you remember what happened?”
Will blinked up at blinding lights, and tried to remember to breathe.
“Dr. Halstead?”
--and Will slept.
On and on.
Will slept.
-o-
When he woke up again, he was aware of the passage of time by the clarity of it. He was in a bed now, with his scrubs gone and a hospital gown in place. The IV was still in his hand, but it had been hung by this point, and when he craned his neck, he could see his own vitals on the monitor behind him.
Steady. Stable.
Running through it on his own, he was able to quickly deduce a few things. A bandage head and a pounding headache, along with prolonged unconsciousness and diminished capacity -- probably a moderate concussion, possibly a hairline fracture or a small bleed.
His chest was bound tightly -- no doubt to mend his broken ribs. He still had a chest tube -- which meant he’d had a pneumothorax.
His wrist was splinted, but he still could move his fingers -- a bad sprain, not a break. Everything else hurt, but nothing was acute, which meant that it was likely general bruises and lacerations.
In other words, Will concluded on his own, he was probably going to be fine.
He wanted to take some comfort in that self diagnosis, but flat on his back, still too tired to lift himself out of the hospital bed, there wasn’t much to find comforting. Looking around, he could tell this wasn’t a traditional hospital. It looked like the field hospitals he remembered from his first stint in Africa, and just when he was considering pushing the call button, one of the nurses turned up of her own accord.
Will didn’t recognize her, but she smiled warmly. “You’re awake. That’s good.”
Will ignored the pleasantries. “Where are we?”
“An hour outside the city,” she replied. “How are your pain levels? We haven’t been able to run a head CT yet, so we are watching your mental status quite closely to ensure there is no sign of a bleed.”
“It’s fine,” Will said dismissively. “Where’s Adam?”
“Dr. Goshit is busy -- as you can imagine, there are a lot of administrative headaches right now,” she said. “And your ribs? We are hoping to take out the chest tube soon--”
“And where is everyone else? Did they all make it out?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Dr. Goshit warned us that you would be difficult,” she said. “She said to tell you that everyone made it out. It worked.”
Will sank back, feeling the anxiety start to diminish.
The nurse busied herself with Will’s vitals. “He also said to watch you carefully because you would try to ignore sound medical advice,” she said with a pointed look down her nose at him. “And if you show any signs of trying to get up or move around, I have permission to sedate you.”
Will wanted to be offended, but there wasn’t really much point. Instead, he allowed her to continue her exam and merely asked, “Is everyone really safe?”
“There were casualties, yes,” she said, making a few notes on his chart. “But your evacuation was successful. All three ambulances, both supply trucks, and the SUV -- you were the only injury.”
She had no reason to lie, but Will had no reason to believe. He felt his eyes burn again as he struggled to take a breath and hold it. “Really?”
“Really,” she said, simple and matter of fact. Then, she turned to Will’s IV, pushing in a fresh injection. “I’m afraid your painkiller dose is still fairly strong. We need you to stay as still as possible, and Dr. Goshit thought this was for the best. Rest now, Dr. Halstead. Just rest.”
The rush of drugs was fast and effective, and Will felt tingling in his extremities before the warmth eased into his chest. It pulled him back seductively, dulling the pounding in his head and relaxing the vice grip on his chest.
And Will was untethered once more.
-o-
Will slipped in and out, buoyed to consciousness only when the drugs wore off. At some point, he got a head CT and was cleared from serious complication. His ribs still hurt like hell, but the chest tube was removed and someone cleared him for a reduced drug cocktail. With his newfound consciousness, Will was keenly aware of just how badly he’d been beaten.
He was also keenly aware that he’d been out of contact with the outside world for a few days now. It took some work to get his phone back -- it had been shuffled around with his scant personal belongings in the field hospital -- and then it took even longer to find a charger to get his phone back up and running again.
By the time it was working, he was able to sit up again, which was just in time to field the string of anxious text messages from everyone back in Chicago. Most of them he genuinely skimmed, taking a few seconds just to reply to Maggie to tell her he was fine. If Maggie knew, then everyone else who cared at Med would know, too, so it felt like he was covering all his bases.
There was also a string of understated texts from Natalie, which seemed to verge on something more but were couched in restraint.
Just saw that your hospital is on the news. Are you okay?
And then, a day later.
Just really want to hear from you.
Finally, today.
I know it’s got to be crazy, but just anything to know you’re okay.
He’d risked his career for her -- he’d given up his future for her -- and he decided she warranted a reply.
I’m okay. Crazy few days. I’ll tell you about it someday. But I’m okay.
Those messages were necessarily short, however. Because between the multitude of inquiries, Will also had messages from Jay.
Will had lots of messages.
As best he could tell, Jay had texted him hourly. The phone calls had started at a rate of every few hours, but there were periods when they had been nearly every five minutes. Although the texts and voicemails started out with banter, they had soon progressed into threats and outright fear.
In short, back in Chicago, Jay was clearly freaking out -- and had been for the last few days.
While Will wanted to immediately assuage his brother’s anxieties, he felt trepidation of his own. Facing down armed gangster hadn’t been easy. But facing his brother’s wrath when he found how what Will had done? Yeah, that was going to be a whole different level of intense.
Still, Will started this.
He had to finish it.
That meant going through to the very, very end, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
Gathering a breath, he let it out. He still felt tired, weak and sore, but he couldn’t plead unconsciousness any longer. Fingers hesitating over the call button, he accepted his fate just as he had before and pressed call.
With the overseas distance, the call took some time to connect. However, once it started ringing, Jay’s answer was almost immediate.
“Will?” Jay asked. He heard a small curse and a flurry of movement. “Will, is that you?”
Will found himself posturing sympathetically. He had lost track of time; he had no idea what Jay was doing or where he was. “Yeah, Jay--”
Will heard Jay swear again, a noise punctuated by both anger and relief. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you nonstop for days.”
Jay wasn’t make an overt accusation, but Will felt inherently guilty anyway. “I know -- I just got my phone charged again,” he said. “I would have called sooner -- I swear -- but things just got a little crazy.”
To be fair, everything he was saying was absolutely true.
To be more fair, he was presenting a very idealized version of the truth that would hold up to precisely no scrutiny. Especially not the inevitable questioning of his overly concerned elite detective of a brother.
“Uh, yeah,” Jay said. “I’ve been following the news and, what the hell? Why didn’t you call me? Like immediately?”
“Well, I didn’t know for sure it was making headlines,” Will admitted. “And I mean, it wasn’t that bad.”
Even as he said it, Will knew it was nothing more than crap. It was in his nature to downplay risks to himself, and he knew it wasn’t good. But he liked to think this was more for Jay’s benefit now than his own.
Not that it was going to actually work. Jay sounded positively put off. “How was it not that bad?” he asked. “I told you: I saw the news. All the news. I had to use Google translate to read some of the local papers, but it sounded pretty bad no matter what news source I was going with.”
Will was duly chagrined. “I know, I do. It was a little bad.”
He was trying to mitigate his brother’s worry, but he was vastly underestimating just how concerned his brother had been. “A little? Yesterday, I got so freaked out that I hadn’t heard from you that I started calling the state department,” he said. “I had Voight pull some strings, and I ended up talking to some deputy director in some place near you, and she kept assuring me you weren’t dead as though that was supposed to be the only thing I wanted to know.”
“It’s not the state department’s fault,” Will said almost out of reflex. “The field hospital where I was transferred is pretty remote. We’re still working on establishing basic protocols and lines of communication. Tracking down patients and families is a whole other ballgame.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, voice hitching again. “All the more reason you should have called.”
“I know,” Will said, because he did know. He just didn’t have any way to change what had happened. “Just -- things got -- I don’t know. Things were rough on the way out.”
He hadn’t meant to imply anything. In actuality, he’d been trying to imply the opposite -- that everything was fine and dandy.
Jay, whether from his honed instincts as a cop or his impulses as a brother, knew better.
“Are you okay?” he asked almost immediately. “Are you hurt?”
Will winced, shifting uncomfortably back on his bed in the ward. The bruises were still vivid, and it still ached to move. His breathing was mostly back to normal, but sometimes he still felt a twinge from the site of the chest tube. “I’m fine,” he said.
In an effort to sound convincing, Will couldn’t have sounded less convincing.
“You’re fine?” Jay parroted back to him with clear skepticism.
Will could continue to lie -- across an ocean, Jay couldn’t prove him wrong. But that wasn’t what Will wanted for their relationship. He owed Jay the truth, even if he knew his brother was going to hate hearing it.
“I’m fine now,” Will said. “I told you, things got a little rough, and the hospital was the center of a lot of the violence. I was in charge of the evacuation. It wasn’t a perfect situation.”
He was telling Jay a lot now, but he wasn’t telling his brother what he actually wanted to hear.
“Not a perfect situation? You’re fine now?” Jay said, his ire beginning to audibly rise. “Will, what the hell aren’t you telling me?”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal -- it really wasn’t -- but we had to work out a deal with the gang members to get out, and it got a little hairy at the end,” Will explained. He felt conspicuous sitting there, even though no one was watching him. Most of the other patients on the ward were sleeping or dropping in and out of different stages of consciousness. “I just -- got roughed up a little bit.”
Eloquence was not his forte. “Roughed up?” Jay repeated, sounding more incredulous with each passing beat of conversation.
“The gangsters just lost their patience a little bit,” Will said. “Things took longer than expected, and I just wasn’t fast enough.”
Jay made an unintelligible sound of discontent. “They lost their patience?”
Will flopped back gingerly, rolling his eyes. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
“Are you going to say something that actually makes sense?” Jay shot back. “Will, what happened? Tell it to me straight, or I swear to you, I will get on a plane right now and come talk to you in person.”
“Okay, okay,” Will said, relenting again. “It was hard, okay? They came right at the hospital, and I had to get creative with the evacuation plan. So, we negotiated, and it went south at the last minute. No one else was hurt in the evacuation, but they beat me up a little -- but I’m okay. I swear to you, I’m okay.”
“They beat you up?” Jay asked. “Will--”
“Mostly superficial,” Will said, providing his brother the context he knew was about to be demanded. “Bruises, cuts. I had a mild concussion and a tension pneumothorax, but it was mostly the exhaustion and adrenaline crash that wiped me out. I think I slept for two days straight after we got out, and I promise, I tried to call you right away, but I couldn’t find my phone, and then I had to charge it--”
“But you’re okay?” Jay asked, interjecting again. This time, his voice wasn’t angry. The ire had faded. There was a strangled quality to it instead, as if the strained emotion was almost too much. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Will said, almost taken aback by the depth of his brother’s concern. He wasn’t sure why it surprised him -- he and Jay were all that were left -- but sometimes it still forgot just how much that meant. “Jay, I’m really fine. The chest tube is out. The concussion has cleared. I’m bruised and sore, but that’s it.”
Over the line, Jay was silent for a moment. “You scared me,” he said finally. “And it scares me more than I didn’t even know I was supposed to be scared.”
“I would have called--” Will started to say.
But Jay continued. “I know you would have,” he said. “I know how things are between us now, and I know you’re doing what you need to do. But it scares me to think I could lose you and never even know.”
“Jay--”
“No, Will -- just listen,” Jay said, and his voice was uncomfortably tight. “All the times you left before, I didn’t have to think about you. I didn’t have to worry. You were gone, and it was your own damn choice, and whatever. I resented you more than I worried at all about you.”
This was old news, of course, but Will couldn’t pretend like it still didn’t hurt. Now, more than ever, because he’d resolved so much to change.
“And so I thought, you going again -- it wouldn’t be that big of deal, I’d learned to deal with it, but I got tell you, man, I’m not dealing with it. It is a big deal,” he said. “And that’s not to guilt you or whatever. I get what you’re doing -- I do. I just -- I need you to know -- you’re not expendable. You’re out there doing your penance, saving lives, finishing what you started -- but you’re more than that. You’re my brother, and I -- I don’t know. I love you.”
Will’s chest was tight, and his eyes were burning. “Jay, you know I love you, too.”
“I do,” Jay said. And he almost sounded like he laughed. “That just makes it worse. I do know that.”
His brother drew a ragged breath and seemed to sniffle.
“So, I’m just saying, while you’re fighting for everyone else, fight for yourself, too,” he said. “Or, you know, fight for me. Please? Do it for me?”
Will closed his eyes, nodding his head in small rapid motions. “I’ll try,” he said. “I promise you, Jay. I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask for,” Jay said. “Well, that and a phone call the next time things go sideways.”
Will choked on a sob that turned into a laugh. “Definitely,” he said, with a growing feeling that might have been hope. “Definitely.”
-o-
Back at home in Chicago, there was no way Jay could visit, although he did call and text so regularly that Will wondered how he was getting any work done. Will was still being monitored by the medical staff, though the ward was cluttered, crowded and a little chaotic. Which was to say, Will was resting but it wasn’t always the most restful experience.
To make matters worse -- or better, Will couldn’t exactly tell -- he had a lot of visitors. He hadn’t been sure how going out for drinks would translate into actual friendship, but apparently, he was the only one with doubts. Doctors, nurses, techs -- everyone up and down the line stopped by to make sure he was doing okay.
Then, almost to a person, they ended their visits by thanking him.
Sometimes, profusely.
That wasn’t just awkward.
It was a little bit mind-boggling.
When Will looked back on it, he wasn’t sure how his actions equated to anything of substance. He had been trying to do the right thing. Apparently, while trying to act like part of the community, he had inadvertently become part of that community.
An important part, if his overly emotional visitors were any indication.
One nurse, who visited early in the morning with her own arm in a sling, exemplified this better than the rest. She seemed shy at first, but she quickly took up a spot by his bed with a simple invitation and proceeded to tell him her whole life story.
He listened as best he could, trying to pick up the disparate pieces of her failed engagement and her estrangement from her parents and how she was better on both fronts over the last few days. He told her that he was happy things were going better, and she looked a little surprised.
“I’m telling you this to thank you,” she said.
“Oh,” he replied. “Well, that’s not necessary--”
He was about to launch into what was now a familiar refrain for him. How this was his responsibility, how he had an obligation, how he took his duty to save lives seriously, but she didn’t let him.
“No, you don’t get it,” she said. “I’ve been here for five years now, all throughout the continent. And I’ve lived through situations like this before.”
Will gave her a sympathetic look. “I would like to think it’s not that common.”
“But it is, and it’s part of what we sign on for,” she said. “Some people are made for it, and others aren’t.”
“Well,” Will said with a reassuring bob of his head. “Seems like you’re made of the tough stuff.”
She laughed, and she shook her head. “No, you’re still not getting it,” she said. “I’ve heard this story before. I’ve lived it. And most of the time, it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
“And this one isn’t exactly picture perfect,” Will reminded her. “Did we ever get a count on the official death toll?”
She drew her lips soberly together. “About 15 total at the hospital, including staff and security. No patients, thank goodness. Five of the gangsters also died in the shootout, but they’re still trying to tally the city-wide count.”
Will felt his heart sink, and he felt a little bit nauseated. “That many people?”
“And it would have been more,” she said readily. “I mean, honestly? I stayed expecting to die. But you gave me a chance to live -- to be here to tell the story. I don’t even know what to make of that, so all I can do is sit here and tell you how grateful I am.”
The praise seemed ill-placed. Will shook his head. “I was just doing what anyone would do. Just the job.”
Her eyes goggled a little bit. “No one else did that,” she said. “Literally, not a single other person.”
“Well, you might,” he ventured.
And she sat back, looking at him curiously. “I would have stayed until the end -- that’s true,” she said. “But you didn’t just have the guts. You had the presence of mind. You had both, and that’s why I’m always going to remember you, Dr. Halstead.”
What could he say?
What could he do?
It was just like Adam said, maybe. You accepted what you could not change.
And try to keep doing your best anyway.
-o-
If he was uncomfortable with his reaction from his colleagues and overwhelmed by the response from his brother, he was downright terrified of what his superiors were going to say about the debacle. Adam had texted him a few times, mostly just to say he was fine and busy trying to clear things up. Will had asked for more information, but Adam appeared to be busy. Either that, or he was avoiding Will.
And maybe he was.
After all, Will’s plan had had widespread impact. Adam had gone along with it, but he hadn’t really had much choice. By the time Adam knew what was going on, things had advanced too far. You couldn’t unring a bell, and it was very possible that Adam was trying to deal with that aftermath.
Because, there had to be an aftermath. Will had turned over the hospital to gangsters. News coverage in the field hospital was spotty, but the updates were impossible not to hear. Terms like total loss were thrown around, and no one seemed to think they would be going back any time soon. Possibly because there was nothing to go back, too.
That was on Will. People could laud him for saving lives, but the practical toll of his choices had to be reckoned with. He’d cost the organization money. If the hospital couldn’t be repurposed, he could have cost people their jobs -- their lives.
He had been mulling over resigning preemptively, just to avoid the inevitable conflict, but he was too slow. Before he could get his mind around the task, he was summoned to another meeting. He was expecting to meet with the field hospital’s temporary director in his makeshift tent office. Instead, when he arrived, he found a man in a suit coat and tie, looking expectant.
Will knew this man -- a Dr. Roland -- from his visits to the hospital. Adam was always on his best behavior when Dr. Roland inspected, and Will had always got the sense that this man decided what floated and sank at the hospital.
“Dr. Halstead!” the man said, lumbering up to greet him. He was slightly rotund with a well trimmed gray beard and sharp eyes. “I am Dr. Roland, the regional director here.”
Will accepted the handshake, wishing he’d known the boss was coming. He was still wearing sweats and sporting a nasty shiner. He’d been in to talk to the field director several times, just to go over paperwork, and Will had assumed this was an insurance issue. Needless to say, he was ill prepared for a performance review.
“Good to meet you,” he said, mustering as much cordiality as he could. He swallowed awkwardly and stepped back. “I’ve seen you around, and Dr. Goshit has talked about you.”
Dr. Roland laughed. “Then, I’m sure you have a questionable impression of me,” he said. He gestured to one of the chairs as he sat down himself. “Will you sit?”
It was a question, but not one with a real answer. Will obliged, and he could feel himself start to sweat already as he contemplated his various defenses. No, no defenses. He would admit to everything and then offer his resignation. Simple, to the point, accountable.
With a sigh, Dr. Roland adjusted his position, seeming to struggle to get comfortable. He made a face, blotting his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, and smiled at Will once more. “This location is strategically viable, and it certainly seems to work practically, but I don’t know how there isn’t a spate of heat stroke in these conditions,” he said with a little shake of his head as he put the cloth away. “We’re currently looking for a better temporary location.”
He gestured around at the tent, which was buffeted with fans.
“Something with walls. Air conditioning,” Dr. Roland said.
Will wasn’t sure if this was small talk or if it was the start of his review. Will sat forward anxiously, feeling words well up in his throat but he couldn’t figure out which ones to say.
Dr. Roland sighed, shrugging a little. “We have officially reclaimed control of the hospital, but I can’t lie to you. It is a mess,” he said. “Worse, accessibility is extremely limited. The police have called in the military to restore order, but the process has been slow and fraught with caveats, as I’m sure you can understand.”
Will nodded like he understood, even though he really had no clue. He was an ED doc. All the rest -- he was out of his depth.
“Anyway,” Dr. Roland said with a dramatic furl of his hand. “The hospital is clear, but that zone of the city is still under restricted access. I have to debate constantly with as many local authorities as I can talk to about when we can start shipping staff back to at least assess the condition of the place. From my understanding, it is not good, but it’s not clear if we’re looking at a total loss just yet.”
Will’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he had to rub his sweaty palms on his sweatpants. “I have to apologize,” he said, finally just blurting the words. “I know that I was in charge for a lot of this, and my actions had a direct impact on all of these outcomes. I made choices in the heat of the moment without authorization, and I know I broke protocol, and I take full responsibility for the outcome.”
The words left him spent, the outburst of emotion almost more than he knew quite how to handle. It was a necessary thing, though, and the influx of adrenaline almost felt like palpable relief.
Across from him, Dr. Roland looked surprised. He sat back, and he cocked his head. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying here.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Will said. “I know my actions have consequences, and I am ready to face those consequences, whatever you deem them to be.”
This time, the bigger man actually laughed. “Dr. Halstead, you really don’t understand what I am saying here,” he said. He took out the handkerchief again and fiddled with it. “I will admit, when you were offered a position, I had my reservations. Just knowing you had been here before and left early -- well, it didn’t make you very viable. But Dr. Goshit spoke so highly of you that I had to give you another look. Plus, we have been extremely short staffed. Beggars and choosers, you know?”
It was a frank preamble, at least. No mincing words. It would be over soon, and Will braced himself. At least Jay would be happy this time if he came back with his tail between his legs.
Dr. Roland pointlessly folded the handkerchief once more. “I’m a proud man, but I’m not a stupid one. I know when to admit I’m wrong, and I was wrong about you, Dr. Halstead,” he said. He shook his head as if in some state of disbelief. “The frequency of your name in positive reports from the hospital have been impossible to ignore, and now that I’ve had time to fully review this incident with multiple eye witness accounts -- I am positively pleased to be wrong. You have proven yourself to be capable and trustworthy. Your judgment under pressure is nothing short of impeccable.”
He was gushing now, so effusive that Will thought he might actually be imagining things.
“I hate to ever feed Dr. Goshit’s tremendous ego, but I’m certainly pleased I took his advice and approve your hire,” he said. “Your work, your dedication -- it’s all exemplary. You have proven that you are exactly the kind of doctor we need to make this organization stay relevant in the years to come.”
Will’s mouth was hanging open, and he could hear his heart pounding between his hears. “But I broke protocol.”
This reply seemed to confound Dr. Roland. “To save lives and with no other recourse,” he said. “We have developed our policies for a reason, but this is hardly the first time they’ve been disregarded. And really, I would like to think that more of us would break the same protocols to come to a similar conclusion. You understood what lines needed to be crossed -- and which ones to hold. As I said before, it’s just exemplary.”
Will was still at a loss. “But the supplies--”
“Can be replaced,” Dr. Roland said. “We are always running at a deficit, and this is why insurance exists. People are by far our most precious commodity.”
This time, Will couldn’t even come up with a response.
Dr. Roland chuckled. “Come now!” he said. “You look like I’m about to fire you!”
The mere mention of the word hit him like a punch in the gut. All the growth he’d had, and the truth was, he still wasn’t over it. He could still remember standing in Ms. Goodwin’s office, thinking he had one more out, just to come face to face with the end of everything he’d built for a decade.
It was all he could do to keep his panic from overwhelming him.
Dr. Roland seemed to sense it, too. “Oh, Dr. Halstead!” he said with a short, breathless laugh. “I didn’t call you here to fire you! Not at all! I brought you here today to give you a promotion.”
Dr. Roland actually spoke very good English, even though he had a European accent. Yet, the clear and concise language, while perfectly understandable, didn’t compute for him at all. “A what?” was all he could bring himself to say.
“A promotion,” Dr. Roland repeated, looking at Will with a little bit of wonder and a touch of concern.
Will blinked hard, trying to get his wits and failing. “But why?”
The question was the only coherent thing Will could come up with, but Dr. Roland seemed perplexed. “Because you showed that you possess real leadership material, and we would be foolish not to leverage you more.”
“But,” Will started and stopped, failing to grasp the nuances here. “I have a job.”
“Yes, as an attending under Dr. Goshit,” Dr. Roland said. “I have discussed this with him, and he agrees that your talents are being underutilized.”
Will frowned. “But I have a place there.”
A place he’d worked hard to find, build and maintained. A place he could not -- would not -- take for granted.
“And yet, there is no place there,” Dr. Roland said coyly. “The sad truth that we are not making explicit is that we are months from reopening -- and that timeline is ambitious. Many staff are going to be repurposed in the meantime, and we will deal with staffing the reopened facility when the time comes. We have immediate needs right now across our network, needs that you are perfectly poised to fill.”
There it was: the understandable bottom line.
No compliments. No posturing.
Just needs to be filled.
Will nodded now, suddenly resolute. “I came here to serve, in any way I can.”
Dr. Roland looked pleased now. “And we don’t want to lose you,” he said with an avuncular sort of vigor. “See this as our way of saying thank you.”
“Well, I don’t need thanks,” Will deferred.
Dr. Roland was not easily deterred, however. “Then see it as our way of saying keep up the good work.”
Will hesitated, but he could find nothing to object to there. “Okay,” he agreed finally.
Looking pleased, Dr. Roland clapped his hands together. “Very good! It’s settled, then!” he said. “I’ll have the paperwork brought up to make this all official, and I will be sure to include a packet about your next job site.” He leaned forward with a bit of a wink. “It is one of our better ones, if I do say so myself. But read things over, get a feel for it. Submit the paperwork as soon as you’re done.”
Will nodded, trying to acclimate himself to this sudden shift in mindset. “And when will I start?”
Dr. Roland looked at him. “When are you cleared for work?”
Will shrugged. “In a few days.”
Dr. Roland grinned. “Then you can start in a few days,” he said. Will got to his feet stiffly, moving slowly to the door. “Let me know if you need anything!”
On the outside, Will tried to think through that question.
Will need something, that much was sure.
He just had no idea what at this point.
-o-
Back at his bunk, Will sat down. Someone invited him to dinner, and Will replied that he’d be there soon without even looking to see who it was. He was still sitting there, somewhat vexed by this turn of events, when a page delivered his paperwork a few hours later.
He looked over the contract first, surprised by its generous terms. Better pay, better hours, more benefits -- the works.
And skimming through the packet on the hospital -- it hardly looked like it was from the same network. State of the art, well established, outfitted with the best staff -- it looked like paradise compared to the makeshift operation Adam had been forced to run. The disparity was explained by the donor page, which detailed how the hospital had attracted some of the best private funders in the continent.
In short, Will wasn’t just getting a promotion. He was being offered the promotion. All his angst about losing out to Ethan, and now he was being handed his very own ED in one of the leading hospitals.
He had come to serve, that was true, but he didn’t know what to make of this. It seemed like too much, too fast. Truth be told, he didn’t think he could trust himself.
It scared him, being happy and comfortable -- a lot more than being ill equipped and out of his element.
He got up eventually and went to dinner, but he didn’t taste the food and he didn’t remember the conversation. He was stuck on the notion that he was pretty sure he could do this.
At this point, however, he just wasn’t sure that he should.
-o-
Given that his last lapse in communication had coincided with a gang takeover and getting beaten to unconsciousness, Will was purposeful in maintaining daily contact with his brother. Since he was still not cleared to return to normal activities, it was easier than ever to keep up with Jay’s random texts -- and he made a point to do so. He’d put Jay through enough.
With texts throughout the day, Will still called on a near-daily basis. He did it for Jay’s sake, but he had to admit, he liked talking to his brother. With so much up in the air right now, his brother’s practical perspective helped him stay invariably grounded.
Considering Will’s tendency to make stupid choices under emotional duress, this seemed like a wise way to approach things.
Especially now that his job situation was suddenly up in the air again.
This was different, of course. This time he hadn’t been fired. He hadn’t even been reprimanded. This was a promotion, and Will knew technically that was supposed to be a good thing. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
There was no reason not to tell Jay. In fact, he knew if he told Jay, his brother would be thrilled and probably unreasonably proud. That was, ultimately, why Will was hesitant.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to celebrate.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit his own progress.
With Jay in Chicago and Will in Africa, it probably should have been easy to hide it, but still, it was the first thing out of Will’s mouth when he called his brother that night.
“I got a promotion,” he blurted after they had exchanged civil pleasantries.
They were not on a video chat -- at Will’s insistence, while he had admitted that he’d been roughed up during the hostilities, he knew his brother would freak out when he saw just how bruised Will was -- so it was impossible to see the blank look on Jay’s face. It wasn’t hard to hear, though. “What?” Jay asked, as though he’d misheard.
Will shrugged. He had been released, technically, but the staff was still all sequestered at the hospital. He found there was little difference from the hospital tent and the housing tent -- except for the fact that he didn’t have to sleep with an IV in his arm anymore. “They promoted me.”
“They -- did?” Jay said, catching onto what Will was saying. His voice immediately sounded more upbeat. “That’s great, man. Congratulations!”
Will looked around warily. There wasn’t much privacy in the housing tent, though during this part of the day, most people were out on duty or spending time in the yard. The organization was still assessing whether or not the hospital could be reclaim, and how soon, and people were getting restless. “I guess,” he said, slumping back with a sigh. “It doesn’t feel great.”
“Why not?” Jay asked. “What kind of promotion is it?”
“I’ll be management now,” he said. “Probably Chief of the ED.”
“But that’s Adam’s job, I thought.”
“It is,” Will said. “This hospital isn’t going to be up and running for awhile, so they’re reallocating some staff as needed. I got a spot at one of the bigger hospitals -- the flagship one that’s on all their websites and stuff.”
“So a better hospital?” Jay asked, sounding more interested than ever. “In a safer city?”
“Probably,” Will said. “It’s got more bells and whistles, too. It’s not going to be like Med or anything, but it’s still a world-class hospital.”
Jay laughed, as if he couldn’t quite grasp what Will’s reticence was about. “That’s great news, then. I mean, that’s a hell of a promotion. Chief of the ED? The best hospital? Sounds like you’re going straight to the top.”
Will sighed again, and he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Dude,” Jay said, and he sounded exasperated now. “How can you not know? Literally everything about this job is better than your old job.”
“I know,” Will said. “But that’s the thing. I didn’t come here for bells and whistles. I came here to serve.”
“No,” Jay reminded him promptly. “You went there to do a job -- a job you did so well that now they want to hire you for another job.”
Will let his head drift to the side, watching people through one of the clear flaps designed as windows. There was a game of pickup soccer in the yard, but he wasn’t allowed to do physical activity yet. “I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
As expected, Jay’s reaction was over the top. “Are you crazy? They’re offering you a promotion -- and a good one by the sounds of it. Of course you’re taking it.”
Will knew he was starting to sound like a broken record -- he was starting to feel like one, too. Like he was stuck on repeat, going through the same thing over and over again. He just didn’t know how to make the outcome different.
“But I didn’t come here for this,” he said, not sure how else to explain the dissonance in his head.
“You just said it yourself: You came to do the job,” Jay said flatly. “If that’s really why you’re there, then you’ll take this promotion. But if this is still some mess up version of penance--”
“I admitted that it might be both,” Will protested.
“And okay, then let’s look at it as penance,” Jay said. “You put in four months of hell. That’s penance well served, if you ask me. Now, you get your reward.”
“Jay, you really don’t know anything about penance do you,” Will said.
“I am, at best, a lapsed Catholic,” Jay acknowledged. “That crap was always more your thing, but the idea makes sense. You screwed up, you made amends. You get to move on, right? That’s the whole point of penance.”
Will drew a breath and he shook his head. “Maybe I can move on, but a reward? I don’t know, Jay.”
He could practically hear Jay rolling his eyes. “You are so impossible. Fine, then just think of it as the next level of your penance. Still a sacrifice but not quite as trying.”
Will sat up a little, drawn out of his malaise by Jay’s insistence. “You’re really making a hard sell on this one, aren’t you?”
Jay scoffed. “Um, to get you out of a warzone? Hell, yes.”
That point was one Will couldn’t deny. “Well, fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, no, there’s nothing to think about, bro,” Jay said. “Take the job.”
“There’s a little to think about,” Will objected.
Jay made a disgruntled noise that translated through the static of the call. “You are so lucky that you’r ein Africa, or I would come there and kick your ass for being so stupid. Take the promotion, asshole.”
The threats were only endearing now, and Will found himself smiling. “Sure, Jay. I love you, too.”
“Look, just call me, whatever you decide,” Jay said. “And preferably before something else life threatening occurs.”
“I’ll do my best,” Will promised.
“Uh huh,” Jay quipped. “Do better than your best, okay?”
That was a tall order, and Will knew himself well enough to know that much.
For Jay, though, he’d try.
-o-
His recovery continued with unabated success. Soon, with staff stretched thin, he was cleared to return to light duty -- which mostly meant checking bandages and keeping up with charts. It was a little on the boring side, but it gave Will plenty of time to contemplate his options.
Namely, the promotion.
There had been no deadline given on when he had to accept -- but there hadn’t even really been much discussion about him not accepting it. He had to figure, most people being offered a better job in a better location was a no brainer. Everyone assumed he wanted it.
And Will was running out of reasons for not wanting it.
Except one.
One important one.
Adam was hard to find these days. He found out that Adam was spending most of his time traveling, going to corporate meetings and making his way to and from the city. Now that the hospital was secure again, damage assessment had begun. As one of the members of the leadership team, Adam was the natural choice.
Accordingly, Will didn’t get to see him very often, but when Adam was back at the camp for any reason, he made a point to visit.
Over the last few weeks, Adam had looked tired and stressed.
Today, however, he seemed to have run himself ragged. Thinner than normal and a little gaunt, Adam showed all the signs of exhaustion. But when he saw Will, he still smiled and welcomed him with a hug.
“You are looking better!” Adam said.
Will pulled back. “You’re not. What are they doing to you?”
“Ah,” Adam said, swatting his hand through the air. “There is just much work to be done. We have administrative headaches -- liability issues, cost flow issues -- all of it. We’re not even sure how much damage has been done to the facility, and we are bickering with our insurance provider about the coverage for gang related violence.”
Will winced at the litany. “Sounds like I did screw things up--”
Adam scoffed at him. “You are the only reason we are able to do any of this, so none of that from you,” he said. “Besides, I hear that congratulations are in order.”
Will wasn’t surprised exactly that Adam knew. In some ways, it was easier that Will didn’t have to tell him. But nothing negated how hard the rest of this conversation could be. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it’s a pretty big promotion.”
“Pretty big?” Adam said with a grunt. “Chief of the ED! That is a big jump for someone who has been here less than six months!”
“I know,” Will said. He shook his head, feeling duly overwhelmed. “I keep feeling like it’s a mistake.”
“No, no, no mistake,” Adam assured him. “The talk about you -- it is relentless! There are many heroes in this story, but none like you. Everyone knows you by name now. Some people think you deserve a break. Others are just terrified that without a promotion, you will come to your senses and leave us.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Will said quickly. “I will finish what I started.”
“I know, I know,” Adam said, placating Will. “This I never doubted from the beginning.”
“Which you should have,” Will pointed out. “My track record--”
“Was from when you were a child,” Adam said. “If I was held accountable for my actions ten years ago!”
“You would be right here,” Will said. “We’re not the same, Adam.”
Adam sobered a little, and he drew a long breath as he looked Will over again. “Well, then, I am pleased that you have proven my judgement correct,” he said. “For now everyone sees what I saw from the start. My only regret is that now I have to rebuild on my own.”
Will stepped forward, intent once more. “I can stay,” he offered, and it wasn’t an idle offer. It wasn’t one he made in vain.
Adam knew him well enough to know that. His face contorted immediately. “Absolutely not! You will take this job!”
Will blinked, taken aback with some surprise at the vehemence. “You took a chance on me. I’d be happy to stay and take all the rest of the chances with you.”
“While your sentiment is noble, the practical reality contradicts you,” Adam said. He tipped his head to the side, letting his eyebrows draw together. “All you have accomplished, and you would keep us together? When the talent and dedication is needed elsewhere?”
There was a reasonable logic to that conclusion. Will lifted one shoulder. “So you take the new thing. It’s more opportunity, more perks. I mean, if you ask the board for it, then it’s got to be yours. I’ll stay here. Rebuild.”
Adam laughed, as though it might be a joke.
“I’m serious!”
“Oh, I know you’re serious,” Adam said. “That is why it is so funny.”
Will pursed his lips. “I don’t think I follow.”
Adam sighed. “Halstead, this is my city. This is my home. I have worked for years just to get to this point and build this hospital. I worked all over Africa. I spent years getting to the board. This is my project, and I would not part with it for anything else in this world.”
Those pieces of the puzzle seemed obvious now, and Will felt a little foolish for not putting them together. He knew how passionate Adam was -- how passionate he’d always been. And he knew this was his home. Connecting the dots should have been easy, had Will not be so focused on himself even now.
“Then let me stay,” Will said.
“But there are people everywhere who need help,” Adam said, insistent in his tone now. “So, go. Go help them -- it is a job I trust only to you.”
The protest was still raw in Will’s throat. “But--”
“But nothing,” Adam said before he could finish. “Look, Halstead, I know why I am here. I have told you why I am here. But you? You have no idea why you are here, not really. I have my suspicions, but it is yet to be revealed to you.”
“And you think I’ll find it with this new posting?” Will asked.
Adam made a little face. “Is it not worth a chance?”
Will looked away, feeling torn. The things Adam was saying -- they made sense. But the idea of it scared him as well. “I just don’t want to leave this unfinished. I can’t.”
Adam leaned forward, bracing him arm to arm now. “You have not, I assure you,” he said. “And given what I have seen from you the last few months, I know that you are not the man you were. I trusted you before when you did not deserve it. I trust you now because you do.”
Will braced him back, fingers giving his friend’s arm a solid squeeze. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
Adam nodded, resolute. “After all this, my friend, consider your debts paid in full.”
-o-
Wil had left Chicago in quiet shame and rejection. He’d been subdued, lonely and miserable. He hadn’t looked back because there had been nothing left for him to see.
This move, however, was different.
Heaped with praise and gratitude, Will felt embarrassed but without shame. He felt unworthy, to be sure, but instead of feeling miserable, he just felt confused. And he had no choice but to look back this time. Everything behind him was something he was going to miss.
And yet, moving ahead had never been easier.
When he’d first arrived in Africa the second time, he’d been on a cramped transatlantic flight, flying in business economy. He’d been greeted by Adam at the airport, who had shuttled him in his small, finicky old car all the way across town. It had been an inauspicious start, but Will had assumed that was simply the best the organization could drum up.
On this trip, however, he quickly realized that his previous treatment had been tied to the fact that he just wasn’t a very valuable asset.
How did he know?
Probably because he was flown first class across the continent. There was a luxury taxi waiting for him, and the agency had picked out his apartment for him. A big one on an upper level floor, right in the heart of downtown, overlooking the city.
Hell, one month’s rent cost more here than he’d earned in four months back with Adam. This was possible with the increased living stipend that he’d been given in addition to his paycheck.
In other words, he’d been working mostly as a volunteer before, earning just enough to survive.
Now? Now, he was an actual employee. As head of the ED here, he was a company man now. And although the organization was always stretched to the max in their supply budget, they seemed intent on retaining talent. Clearly, they wanted him to like this job.
And at first blush, Will wanted to like it, too.
After all, it was a more comfortable living situation. He would have spending money again -- hell, he might even be able to start to save again. Plus, as head of the ED, he would have a lot more flexibility in his hours. Not to mention that he was a boss now. There was prestige here, prestige he’d coveted but never attained back home.
That, of course, was what gave him pause.
This wasn’t supposed to be about getting everything he wanted.
If he got everything he wanted, then would he learn his lesson?
Did it mean anything?
Will couldn’t help it; it still didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Back in Chicago, he’d left a trail of devastation in his wake. Had Goodwin managed to repair the hospital’s reputation? Had Sabeena salvaged anything from the study or was her career put back because of him? Had Ethan recovered enough to take over the ED back from Archer again? How was Natalie settling in on the west coast?
He would wonder if they missed him, but it wasn’t a thought that deserved his attention.
He had to keep himself humble. Now, more than ever.
He was here to do the job.
No matter what, just the job.