Chicago Med fic: Restitution (4/10)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
Will made the last of his preparation with little pomp. There were a lot of details to manage, making sure he was ready for a long stay overseas. The paperwork was monotonous, and with lingering COVID restrictions in place, it took longer than it normally would have. He decided that was a good thing, though. It gave him something to do while he wound down this chapter of his life.
For as much as he was resolved and determined to make this move, the loss still ached. Whenever he had too much time to sit and think, he was struck by everything he was leaving behind. He couldn’t help but think about his life at Med. He wondered how Ethan was recovering. How was Archer managing the ED? Had Maggie figured out how to move on after giving up Auggie? When was April’s last day? Did Goodwin ever think twice about what had happened to him?
Why would should she? Why would any of it matter? He’d forfeited all of that, and he had to give up the dream -- no matter how much he wanted it.
That was the hard part, really. He did want it. He had chased countless things, and it had driven him all his life. The constant struggle, the continual pursuit: it had allowed him to get out of Canaryville. It had helped him push through college when he had nothing to back him up. He’d never settled for the second best. He’d gone harder and faster than everyone else.
So what if one thing didn’t work out? For Will, there had always been another. Failure was just the prelude to the next adventure. Success, in his mind, was always just around the corner. With the next job. With the next girl. With the next city.
But coming back to Chicago had changed all that. It had changed him. He had stayed when it got hard. He had persevered when things became unclear. He stood tall in the face of job difficulties. He didn’t run when relationships went south.
That was what made this all so hard. Now that he’d finally made the choice to stay, he knew it was time to leave for real. Everything else in his life, he’d ended prematurely. At Med, he’d seen it through to the end, and now he had to face that.
The end.
Not the beginning.
But the end.
Will knew this was what he had to do, but he hated every moment of it. He hated himself for letting it get this far. The weight of it threatened to crush him sometimes, and if he didn’t preoccupy himself with tedious moving tasks and distracting conversation with his brother, it might have been too much.
Sometimes it still felt like too much.
But there was nothing to be done for it now.
There was nothing to be done for him.
-o-
It was the longest and shortest two weeks of Will’s life. After close to a decade in Chicago, he was forced to pack up all his memories into a storage unit and break all ties with a meager two-week notice. Each minute was excruciating because he knew what was coming. But each minute slipped through his fingers because he knew he couldn’t hold onto them no matter how much he wanted to.
By the end of his two weeks, Will had sublet his apartment and secured all his belongings. He’d packed the very bare minimum into his weary suitcases, and he had his paperwork and identification all in order. Although he had refused a farewell party like Jay had wanted, he made a point to text the few people left in town who mattered to him. He said goodbye to Maggie and April, and he even wished Ethan the best of luck in his recovery. There were a few other doctors and nurses he wanted to maintain professional connections with, but the list was shorter than it might have been a few months ago.
He didn’t contact Ms. Goodwin.
She didn’t contact him.
It was just as well.
He thought about giving Natalie another call, but he settled for a text. She texted back quickly, telling him that she had already arrived in Washington. Her mom was doing well with the new heart, and they had gotten established with a new cardiologist out there to maintain her follow up care. Owen was excited to be close to the mountains and the ocean, and he seemed to be doing well.
She ended by asking how he was doing.
Fine, was all he had the heart to reply. I’m doing just fine.
-o-
All that aside, Jay was always going to be the hardest part.
Everything else -- that was about how Will had hurt himself.
But what his departure would do to Jay -- that was a burden he still had to reckon with.
Will wasn’t naive. It wasn’t like Jay needed him or something. Jay was a fully functional adult, even more than Will had ever been. He had a good, stable job, and he was well respected and liked. He had a community -- a whole family -- in Intelligence, and those bonds had proven to be somewhat unshakable over the years. And then there was Hailey. Complicated or not, Jay loved Hailey, and Will had every confidence that they’d make it work. He’d save up whatever time he got off to make it back for the wedding -- whenever Jay got around to giving her the ring.
Even so, Will couldn’t afford to be naive. He’d always known Jay was just fine without him, but he’d never fully appreciated just how much his brother wanted him. Jay valued family in a different way, and for Jay, you showed how much you cared by showing up. Jay was the steadying force between them, and Will’s flighty behavior had always strained things between them. This time in Chicago had rebuilt so much between them.
Will was reluctant to give that up. He wanted to think they could still be like they were, but he knew it would be different. He’d put himself on this road, and his relationship with Jay would be one of the many casualties of it.
To say he felt guilty would be an understatement. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure how Jay could stand being around him most of the time -- much less muster up enough energy to celebrate.
If Jay could do it, then Will was obliged to do it, too. This wasn’t about him. Not this time.
So he let Jay pick the venue. He obliged every request, grateful that his brother had at least taken some of his preferences into consideration. It was indeed just the two of them, and though the restaurant was a little high brow for Will’s current budget, it was quiet and calm. Honestly, it was kind of nice.
Just expensive.
Will winced at the prices. He had a bit of a nest egg, but moving after breaking up with Hannah had put a strain on things. He’d had to invest a lot into his travel arrangements, and he knew that his reduced paycheck meant that keeping his savings robust now was important. He wouldn’t be adding to it much over the next year.
Everyone thought that doctors were rich, but Will had never been rolling in cash. He’d been nearly impoverished throughout most of his residency, and the combination of school debt and malpractice insurance had crippled his finances for years. Things had leveled out more recently, but the reality that he had hit a wall in his career and frequent moves had done their damage as well. Will was in his 30s with a mountain debt to pay off and the prospect of his lowest paying job since college on the horizon.
Needless to say, 30 dollar fish made him cringe.
To his surprise, before he could order himself the 20 dollar pork chop, Jay took the initiative to order for both of them.
To Will’s horror, he picked the most expensive thing on the menu.
Needless to say, Will was embarrassed. His cheeks flushed red and he lowered his voice, leaning toward his brother, wishing he could avoid the prying eyes of their waitress. “Jay, I really can’t afford--”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not paying,” he replied, as though it was a question he’d been anticipating all along. He smiled warmly back at their waitress to assuage the awkwardness. “Two halibuts, please. And bring the appetizer medley and a bottle of something that’s supposed to be good.”
By this point, Will was all but mortified. If anything, Will owed Jay dinner -- and then some. For Jay to take him to a nice restaurant, order an expensive meal and then the extras? And the drinks?
Will didn’t even know what to do with that.
He smiled politely as the waitress collected their menus, and he looked at Jay anxiously.
Jay took a drink of his water, and raised his eyebrows back. “What?”
“It’s just kind of a lot,” Will said.
“That’s the point,” Jay said. “I mean, we’re celebrating, right?”
Will shifted in his chair, feeling more conspicuous by the minute. “I guess I don’t know why,” he admitted. “This isn’t some big accomplishment. I got fired.”
“You quit,” Jay said, sticking to that point like a dog with a bone. “And you’re pursuing something that matters to you. You’re taking a risk for all the right reasons. This is different from all the other times, and I’m trying to be on board with that.”
The level of his brother’s understanding was both heartening and overwhelming. It was a grace he didn’t deserve. At the same time, he was in no position to refuse it. “Jay,” he said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. His eyes were burning a little. “I don’t -- I don’t know--”
Jay sat forward, shaking his head. “You do know,” he said. “I don’t love you moving to Africa for a lot of reasons, but it’s not going to be like it was before. Whatever you think you messed up in Chicago, you didn’t mess up everything. You and me, right? We’re better than ever. So if you can’t celebrate anything else about your time in Chicago, then let me celebrate that.”
“Okay, then,” Will said, lifting his glass of water with the biggest smile he could muster. “To family.”
Jay took his own water and raised it more vigorously. “To brothers.”
It was, Will decided, more than he deserved.
-o-
Despite Will’s hesitations, dinner was nice. Jay was in good spirits, and Will did his best to be upbeat. He knew he owed Jay that -- he owed Jay everything -- and if he’d hurt everyone else in Chicago, he hated the idea of hurting his brother, too.
So they ate good food. They drank nice wine. And they talked about all the things they remembered, growing up in Canaryville and finding their place in Chicago when all was said and done. They talked about family, about their mom’s breakfast casseroles and the way their dad taught them to play catch in the backyard. They talked about getting into fights at school, and how they wondered how many kids were still in the neighborhood.
Jay talked about Hailey, and how things were going. Will told him more about Adam and the organization where he was investing his future. Will asked Jay if he’d got the ring yet; Jay scoffed and asked Will when he could visit Chicago again.
They stayed for dessert, which they weren’t hungry for, but Will knew that Jay wasn’t ready to leave. He stayed for that because he knew he couldn’t stay tomorrow.
One last night for the Halstead brothers.
One last night for home.
-o-
Will was still staying at Jay’s, given that his own apartment was empty and he turned in the keys yesterday. He felt a little like he was imposing, but Jay all but insisted. He imagined that was how his brother preferred it, and Will knew that time there was short.
Extremely short, now.
They got back to the apartment late, and Will had a flight in the mid morning tomorrow. Jay had wanted to take him to the airport, but Will had declined. An uber would get the job just fine, and it would simplify the process of saying goodbye.
At least, that had been the theory.
Back at Jay’s apartment, the inevitable silence between them, nothing seemed simple about it.
And Will wanted to be happy. Will wanted to be upbeat and optimistic. He wanted to show his brother how sure he was, how confident. He wanted to take heart in knowing he was making the right choice.
Instead, he felt a gnawing emptiness. For all that he had ahead of him, Will felt gripped by what he was leaving behind. What he might gain seemed like nothing compared to what he lost -- what he’d willfully given up. And now he was giving up Jay, too. He was leaving him behind, because no one ever promised him that the right thing would be easy.
That the right thing would make him happy.
Will wasn’t sure if he’d ever be happy again.
Sitting on the couch, Will did his best to get ready for bed, but it was harder to go through the motions tonight. The routine couldn’t sustain him forever, and he felt stretched thin as the pieces of his life wobbled precariously.
Jay got one more drink from the kitchen, pausing to drink it with a look at Will. He looked like he might now say anything, but this was literally their last chance.
“You sure you’re okay, man? With all this?” he asked.
Will was nearly trembling as he tried to keep his composure. He laughed, breathless and humorless. He felt the tension building in his chest, restricting his throat almost painfully. “Not really.”
Jay crossed closer to him, hesitating before he sat down on the couch next to him. “You don’t have to go,” he said. “I know you have the ticket and signed a contract, but you don’t have to go, Will.”
Looking down, Will found that his eyes were burning. “I do.”
“But if it’s not what you want--”
“It’s not about what I want,” Will said, voice almost choking off. He looked up at Jay with a helpless shrug. “I have to go. I have to.”
Jay studied him carefully, measuring his next words with clear consideration. “You keep saying that, but I know you. It’s like you’re only half here right now. You’re barely going through the motions.”
There was no reason to deny it. “I guess it’s just -- harder than I realized,” he admitted, giving voice to the yawning grief inside him. “After all the time I spent wandering, I thought I’d come home. I thought Med was it, the end all, be all -- just like Natalie. I was going to have my happily ever after, Jay. And now it’s -- just gone. All of it. I don’t really know what’s left.”
“More than you think,” Jay said, not missing a single beat of the conversation. “I keep telling you that, man. It’s a lot more.”
Will let his shoulders sag. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I’ve got to figure this out -- on my own. I have to make the pieces fit again.”
“Without me?”Jay asked, and the question wasn’t intended to be cruel. If anything, his brother’s face was clouded with sympathy.
Will’s heart tugged painfully in his chest. “Jay--”
Jay bobbed his head away. “I know, I know,” he said. “I do. But like you said: it’s hard.”
“I wish I could stay,” Will told him. He exhaled, but it only made him feel worse. “All my life, I’ve been running away.”
“And this time you’re running toward something,” Jay said. He sighed, too. “Like I told you, this time is different.”
Will nodded, wishing he could find that fact reassuring. “I just wish I knew what it was.”
Jay patted him on the arm, squeezing his bicep gently. “You’ll figure it out, man.”
The smile he found was for his brother and his brother alone. “Thanks, Jay,” he said. “You’ve been a better brother than I deserve.”
“Truth be told, you haven’t been half as bad as I make you out to be,” Jay said, letting his hand drop back down. “Neither of us have the market on brother of the year.”
Will shook his head now. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “You don’t have to pretend like I haven’t completely taken family for granted.”
“You had your moments, sure, but how else does a kid from Canaryville become a doctor?” Jay said.
“That’s the problem,” Will said. “I put myself first -- my career first. And for what? To get fired from every job I ever had?”
“You quit this one,” Jay said again, unyielding on that point. “And it’s not about right or wrong or the other. “I’ve always looked at family in terms of what I need. But you’re not me. You need different things. So, if you need to go to Africa right now, then I’m going to be there for you while you go to Africa. And I’m sure as hell going to be here when you come back home.”
It had taken a lot to get them here. Will wasn’t the only one who had changed in the last ten years. And to think, if he’d never stayed at Med, he wouldn’t have this to fall back on.
If he hadn’t had this -- well, Will didn’t know what he would have done.
“I’m really sorry, Jay,” he said finally, because his brother was owed more than one apology from him, but this was all he had left. “For everything.”
Jay smiled slightly, but the look in his eyes said it all. “Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not.”
The job at Med was over. His life in Chicago was done. But his relationship with his brother, he knew for sure this time, would endure. “I’m going to miss you,” he said.
Jay grinned now. “You bet your ass you will,” he snarked. He reached out, shoving Will playfully this time. “I’m not going to miss you at all.”
With that, Jay headed to bed, and Will sat on the couch for awhile, just taking it in. In the past, when he left, he hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t looked back. Now, on the precipice of the next change, he wished he could go back. He wished he had the luxury of changing his mind.
Mostly, he was struck by the fact that he didn’t want to go.
Which was precisely why he knew he had no choice.
Will closed his eyes, but didn’t sleep, and waited for the morning to come.
-o-
In the morning, there was little to do. Will’s life had been reduced to a pair of suitcases and a carry-on, and he ate the breakfast Jay made in relative silence. Neither of them knew what to say; words probably didn’t matter at this point. Jay helped him gather up his things as they went downstairs to wait for the ride. When the car got there, they loaded up the suitcases together and turned to face each other one more time.
“Let me know when you get to the airport,” Jay said. “And when you’re ready for your flight.”
“Sure,” Will said.
“And then when you’re at cruising altitude--”
“I will,” Will said.
“And then when you land--”
Will shook his head. “Jay, I will,” he said, trying to break the litany of reminders. “I’ll be in touch, okay? I promise.
Jay hesitated, as if trying to decide whether to believe him or not. There was a lifetime of failed promises between them, but the last few years counted for something, Will hoped.
He had failed all the rest, but maybe -- just maybe -- he hadn’t failed here where it mattered most.
Jay nodded, swallowing hard. He reached out, hugging Will tautly.
“Okay,” he said. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” Will said, finally headed for the car. He turned back with a grin. “Go save the city.”
Jay smirked with familiarity. “And you go save the world.”
-o-
Saying goodbye was a surreal thing, and Will climbed into the uber for the ride to the airport in relative quiet. The driver tried to make some small talk, but she clearly saw that Will was in no mood to talk. Honestly, Will wasn’t sure he was in the mood for anything.
He just was.
Each step, as inevitable as the last. It wasn’t a question of want or desire. It was a question of necessity.
That didn’t make it easier, though.
That didn’t make it hurt less.
The airport was an apt enough distraction, trying to check his bags and navigate his way through the crowded security line. Around him, people were traveling for all sorts of reasons. Families going on vacation; business travelers trying to make a connection; college kids coming home.
Will wasn’t sure where he fit in, and he kept his head down, sitting at his gate with an expectancy he hated. He wondered if Jay was at work yet. He thought about the morning shift starting at Med. He considered whether or not Natalie had sold her townhouse yet.
Idle thoughts, though -- and they were no longer his concern.
This choice he was making was real. This choice had consequences. He was giving up his right to be involved here. He was giving up the right to call this place home, to call these people family.
Maybe, someday, he’d earn the right to come back.
But as for today, Will boarded his plane and couldn’t bring himself to look back.
-o-
As promised, Will kept his brother dutifully informed, texting him regularly. The idea of distracting his brother was not one he was fond of, but he suspected that Jay would be more distracted by not hearing from him.
Besides, the flight was long, and Will really didn’t have much else to do. He’d brought a few books with him, but he didn’t have much interest in reading. He did peruse a few medical journals on and off, but reading about trials was admittedly a little uncomfortable for him to do at the moment.
It was a direct flight, which had seemed good in theory, but Will had been crammed into the economy section of the plane. His legs ached from the lack of space, and the whole thing was a touch claustrophobic. When the person next to him found out he was a doctor, he was regaled with various medical questions, ranging from mole inspection to medicare fraud.
Needless to say, landing was a bit of relief, but Will knew better than to think that was the end.
If anything, it was just the beginning.
It was true Will had been here before, and he’d been a lot greener the first time he’d come to Africa. His experience seemed to work against him now, and he wasn’t as nimble with change as he used to be. He’d arrived before, ready to conquer the world.
This felt like more of a retreat, somehow.
Maybe even a defeat of sorts.
Worse, now that he was on the ground, he was struck with the reality of what he was doing here. Restarting his career, traveling to another continent -- those were scary things, sure.
But he was also about to come face to face with Adam.
He and Adam had been fast friends before. In fact, they’d been nearly inseparable, as close to brothers as any other friend in Will’s life. They’d practiced field medicine together in the worst conditions, and they’d come out stronger for it.
It was that relationship that Will had leveraged to get here again.
Except Adam was also the reason he’d left.
Will often framed his departure as a messy failed relationship with a girlfriend. That was technically true. Except the girlfriend had been Adam’s sister. It hadn’t been messy as much as it had been a disaster. Will had broken her heart and left her hysterical. Terrified of the consequences of that, he’d left without as much as a goodbye and put his resignation in the mail.
It had seemed like the easy thing at the time. Indeed, for the past decade, he hadn’t had to face up to it at all.
But here he was.
Back to face it.
Back to face all all of it.
He’d always known that it wouldn’t be easy, but standing there, dragging his luggage behind him, he was suddenly aware of just how hard it was going to be.
Before he had the chance to panic, he heard someone calling his name.
“Halstead! Over here! Halsted!”
Will turned out of instinct, and even though it had been years, Adam was easy enough to recognize.
“Halstead!” Adam called again, moving to intercept him quickly. “There you are!”
Face to face, Adam had changed in a lot of ways. His face was creased a little more, especially up around the eyes. Though he kept his hair closely shaven, the black curls were tinged with gray around the temples. He wore glasses now, wire spectacles that made him look mature and responsible.
Looks could be deceiving.
When Adam smiled, a broad, mischievous grin, Will knew that Adam hadn’t changed in every way. He was just as irreverent and impulsive as he’d always been.
Despite himself, and the circumstances of this job offer, he couldn’t help but smile as he crossed toward his old friend. Adam whooped a little, and Will offered his hand but Adam swept Will up into a bear hug instead. It was a rush, and Will was grinning widely as Adam put him back down again.
“Look at you!” Will said, collecting his breath and trying to get his bearings back in line. “Adam Goshit, here in the flesh.”
“Ah!” Adam said, slapping him upside the arm. “I never left. Look at you! Finally coming back!”
Standing in the busy airport, Will found himself embarrassed. He’d called in this favor on a desperate whim. And here he was. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d take my call.”
“And yet, you called anyway,” Adam said magnanimously. “And be realistic, my friend. You are hardly the first person to leave our service unannounced. Turnover remains quite high.”
“Well, you do advertise as putting doctors on the front lines with low pay and high risks,” Will pointed out.
“Again, you called me,” Adam said smugly.
Will nodded, feeling just a touch sheepish. “You might say I was a little desperate.”
Adam made a loud sound of dismissal. “Ha! And here I thought you just missed me.’
“Of course I missed you,” Will replied readily. “Working here, with you and the team -- that was one of the best experiences of my life.”
Adam gave his brow a quizzical crease. “So you waited ten years?”
It was a point Adam could have made with malice -- honestly, Will didn’t know why he wouldn’t. Given the circumstances of his departure and the suddenness of his return, Will didn’t exactly have any high ground left to cede. “Well, the last time I saw you, I did sleep with your sister,” he said. Because if this was going to work out, then he needed to start it with honesty. He couldn’t be a good doctor with an elephant like that lurking in the room.
He was bringing enough baggage with him on this job. He couldn’t possibly manage with that bit, too.
To his relief, Adam only smiled. “That you did,” he said. “And then you went and broke her heart.”
The ready admission made the happy reunion suddenly feel off putting. Will shirked back, shifting his weight from one foot to another cautiously. “Look, I really am grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me here, and it’s great to see you -- really, it is, but if this is going to be hard for you--”
Now, Adam looked at him like he might be crazy. “Halstead! Where is your sense of humor after all these years! Please!” he cajoled loudly, voice echoing over the din. “My sister is a beautiful, fun, amazing woman -- who loves to have her heart broken. She does it weekly. And she had her eye on you from the first week of your fellowship. How you held out for nearly a year? I am still in awe.”
Adam was speaking easily, and he was still smiling. The cadence of his voice was leisurely, almost pleased. Like he wasn’t actually upset.
Like he was actually fine with what had happened.
Confused, Will shook his head, trying and failing to get his bearings. “Wait. You mean, you’re not mad?”
Adam looked at him like this was the most obvious question in the world. “And why should I be?” he asked. “As I have told you now, this is what my sister does. She had a new boyfriend the day after you left. And she broke up with him in less than a week. The drama -- it is what she likes. It is what she craves. That -- and white, ginger men.”
Will stared at him, wondering if he had misheard somehow. If not, he was wondering how he’d misinterpreted so much for so long. “So, you’re saying I left Africa--”
Adam gave a small snort of laughter. “You were really so afraid after sleeping with my sister?” he asked, more incredulous than ever. “That is the saddest story I have ever heard, possibly. Why did you not talk to me about it?”
It seemed stupid now. No, it seemed obvious. Will was an idiot, though. He had always been an idiot, and -- go figure -- Jay had been right about him from the start. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess running was just always easier. It’s always been my fallback plan.”
“Ah, easier,” Adam said, patting his shoulder again. “But not better, my friend. Not better.”
Will made a wide gesture. He felt foolish, but there was nothing to be done for it now. He was here, and he had no other options. He’d run out of fallback plans, it seemed. There was just the cold, uncomfortable truth. “Lesson learned, I guess.”
“Let us hope so,” Adam said. “Now come! You must be quite tired after your trip! Come, come!”
And Will gathered his bags, feeling like he had no choice but to follow after.
-o-
Will had left Africa more than ten years ago, but it felt and looked just like he remembered. Not so much the places -- for the dense city had grown and morphed over the years -- and not the people -- because Adam had been telling the truth, turnover was high here -- but in the energy. The bustle, the constant movement. Chicago was a busy city, that much was true, but it wasn’t like this. There was a rawness to the energy here that was equal parts invigorating and terrifying.
This kind of place was intoxicating on some levels, especially to the doctor in him. There was so much need and so few resources to meet those needs. It drew you in and threatened to consume you. It was no wonder that it spit you out just as quickly.
The funny part, as he rode in Adam’s car to the hospital, was that Will had been good here. While so many of his classmates had chosen fancy jobs with cushy perks, he’d been drawn here where there was no prestige or comfort to be found. He’d been at home immediately, enticed by the inherent challenges of it all. While other doctors who signed out had burned out one after another, Will had found his groove. He’d been a natural fit. There’d be a time, however short, when he thought he might stay there forever.
Coming back, he fleetingly wondered why he’d left. He knew why, of course. Because he’s screwed up, just like he always did. There was a part of him that wondered if he couldn’t deal with a good thing. Maybe he got nervous when things were too good. Maybe sleeping with Adam’s sister had been unconscious self-sabotage.
Maybe he was always looking for his way out.
It was a discussion that Dr. Charles would love, but his favorite psychiatrist was all the way back in Chicago. That was an errant train of thought that led neither here nor there. Will had to stay focused.
That meant getting his bearings here -- and now. If he was going to practice medicine here, then he needed to hit the ground running. This was time to listen, to watch, to learn.
When they got through traffic and arrived at the hospital, Will was reminded again of just how dramatic his choice was. From the outside, the hospital barely looked like a hospital. If not for the ambulances pulled up in front, it would be easy to overlook.
The way Adam approached it, however, made it feel like it was home.
The thought made Will ache for a moment. He had felt like that once. He’d thought he’d never leave. But he’d been reckless and careless, and now, here he was. Investing into someone else’s home because he’d let his own be forfeit. Homesickness might be expected in a move this drastic, but Will reminded himself that he didn’t have the right to it.
All he had was the right here, the right now.
The small saving grace was that Adam was so pleased with Will being there that he didn’t really notice his trepidation. If anything, Adam was only increasingly excited to show Will around.
The exterior had barely resembled a hospital.
The interior was clearly a hospital.
Just not like one Will had ever worked in before.
According to Adam, the facility was a new one, but that was not a precise description. New, in Adam’s telling, was just new to them. The building was a new acquisition for the organization, but it had clearly already seen better days. As best Will could tell, the building used to be a factory, but it had been retrofitted for medical purposes.
Retrofitted was also a term that could be used liberally -- and subjectively.
There were four surgical suites, but that was a generous description. Many of the wards ran together, and even now, during a slow time in the midweek, they were operating at capacity in most of them. Adam showed him to the billing and administrative wing, which was a series of supply closets that had been hastily retrofitted, before explaining that the organization had rapidly expanded its pro bono offerings. Many of the people they served were charged on a sliding scale in order to make the healthcare accessible to the poorest populations in the city.
That was impressive.
The ED was less so.
At Med, the ED was a sprawling space, fully equipped with more equipment in a single exam room than in the entirety of Adam’s ED. Baghdad was state of the art, and the hybrid room Connor had championed several years ago was still better than every surgical suite put together.
This ED was long and narrow, with disconnected passageways that had been adapted in haste. Rooms were clean, but bare. Equipment needed to be shared, not just between ED exam rooms but across the hospital.
He had worked in these conditions before, but his years in New York and at Med had spoiled him. There was something to be said for cutting-edge medicine, sure. But getting back to the basics, working in the trenches -- it was both invigorating and terrifying.
Adam didn’t bother with pretense. He made no apologies for anything, and he actually seemed proud of what they had cobbled together. It was perspective, of course, and Will knew that this place had been built from nothing. It was impressive, in its own way. Compared to the conditions during his first tour, this was downright luxurious. At the very least, Will felt like he’d ended up where he belonged.
Fewer distractions.
No temptations.
Just medicine.
They ended in the lounge, which was little more than a glorified locker room. “That is it, more or less,” he said. “You will get used to things in no time, I am sure.”
“A hospital is a hospital,” Will said, trying to project an air of confidence when really there was just acceptance. “I’m actually much more concerned about finding a place to live. There really isn’t housing provided anymore?”
“As our network expanded, it became impossible. Stipends were much more realistic,” Adam explained. “Besides, now that we have a presence in cities, the idea of separate housing is much less practical.”
Will nodded. “Just not quite as easy,” he admitted. “I think I can find my way around the ED, but the city? That’s a little more intimidating.”
Adam made a little squawk. “But you are from Chicago! You lived in New York City! These are great cities! Grand cities!”
“Familiar cities,” Will cautioned. “Ones where everyone spoke English.”
Adam flapped his hand at Will dismissively. “You will be fine,” he said. “Besides, you can stay here at the hospital until you find the right place. That will make things quite simple for you to start.”
“Yeah, you said that over the phone before I came, but it seems weird,” Will said. “You have space here for it?”
Adam shrugged as though that was a rather irrelevant concern. “Well, we have beds in the back half of the doctor’s lounge, just beyond that door. And there is a shower in the bathroom,” he explained as a matter of course. “The cafeteria is nothing fancy, but--”
Will shook his head, interrupting him. “Why are there beds in the lounge?”
Will sounded vexed, but Adam remained utterly indifferent. “Well, we have been badly short staffed lately. It is not uncommon to pull long shifts. The beds make that possible.”
“Long?” Will asked, hoping to clarify that point. “Just how long are you talking if you literally need beds in the lounge?”
“Two days, sometimes? Occasionally three,” Adam said with a little indifferent motion. “There was one time, last fall, I myself lived here for a good week. It was not so bad.”
By now, Will was gaping. “Are you serious? This is even worse than it was when I left! I thought you said things were better.”
“Better is relative, yes?” Adam asked. “It is a sign of our growth -- our demand. We have expanded so fast into so many areas of high demand that we are having trouble keeping up. It is a good problem to have, I think. For the organization and for our patients.”
Will let out a small, breathy laugh. “Just not for your doctors.”
Adam grinned, unapologetic. “Why do you think I was so quick to offer you the job?”
Will had to chuckle in agreement now. “So that resume I sent you was just for show?”
“Now you’re getting it,” Adam mused. Then, more seriously, he continued. “But I am sincere when I say I am glad you are here, my friend. If there is anything you need, please.”
Will was about to thank him again, when suddenly the door behind them opened.
“Dr. Goshit, there’s been a construction accident. Multiple victims incoming,” one of the nurses said, poking her head into the lounge.
“Is Dr. Dorsey still here?” Adam asked, looking somewhat distracted now.
“No, she left twenty minutes ago,” the nurse explained. “I can page her--”
Adam shook his head, brow starting to furrow. “She’ll be on the train by now; it’d take her an hour to get back in here,” he said. “Can we call down support from orthopedics and cardiology to cover the influx?”
“Cardiology is busy, but I may be able to pull someone from ortho,” the nurse said. “We can divert a patient or two--”
“Look, if you need doctors, then why don’t I help?” Will said, interjecting his services naturally. “I mean, this is why I’m here.”
Adam glanced at him with a quick, appraising look. “You don’t want to take the day? Get acclimated? That was our plan.”
“I’m sure it’d be best if I could, just to learn where things are and get to know the nurses, but a trauma is a trauma. You need doctors, and I’m standing right here.”
With one last hesitation, Adam’s look was more appraising than skeptical. “Are you quite confident, Halstead?”
Will shrugged, but there was no reason to doubt it now. He’d come all the way across the world. He’d left everything and everyone behind. For this. Just for this.
“This is why I’m here,” he said simply.
Adam nodded, plainly satisfied with that answer. “Then, come,” he said. “We will save some lives.”
-o-
Will was on a new continent in a new hospital where he didn’t even speak the primary language of most of his patients. He was out of his element, and he was sure he stuck out like a sore thumb. His confidence was diminished; his pride was at an all-time low. He was tired, lonely and embarrassed to be starting over at this point in his life when everyone else was moving onward and upward.
But in the trauma room, none of that mattered.
In the trauma room, Will was still the same doctor he’d always thought he could be. Here, it wasn’t about right or wrong, politics or politeness. This was just about the medicine. It was about saving lives.
And Will had been bad with ethics. He had completely failed to follow the rules.
But he’d always been damn good at saving lives.
It wasn’t as seamless as it might have been back in Chicago, but Will made it work. He quickly leaned into the ebb and flow of the ED, and when a few of his requests fell flat with the nurses, he amended them soon enough. Trauma was its own language, in some regards. They were all focused on saving lives -- and that was what Will did.
It took a good hour to clear the worst of the trauma out of the ED, and Will hung around while Adam was in the OR, taking on some of the patients still holed up in the waiting room to make up for the backlog that always came with an emergent trauma. By the time Adam came back to check on him, Will had things well in hand.
Adam was impressed, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised.
“I see you have not changed, then, Halstead,” he said.
Will, despite everything, found himself high on the adrenaline rush. “I still have a few things to figure out,” he said. “New ED, new people--”
Adam laughed, and he shook his head. “But still saving lives,” he said. He jabbed his finger at Will’s chest. “I knew this was a good idea.”
There was a moment of heady relief, the slow idea that maybe Will had made the right choice after all. That was a dangerous sensation, though. And Will couldn’t be trusted with affirmation -- not yet.
“Well,” he said, trying to demur instead. “I’m just here to help out.”
Adam, however, would not be deterred. “And I am quite confident that you will help out a lot, my friend. Quite confident indeed.”
Will couldn’t bring himself to openly disagree, but he knew why he was here -- and he didn’t dare believe.
-o-
Yet, he was good at it.
He fit into the job seamlessly, and Will remembered why he’d loved working in Africa so much in the first place. It came back to him, just like riding a bike, and sometimes it was like he’d never left. There was a sharp learning curve, of course, but Will mastered it without a problem.
In short, Will liked the job. True, he hadn’t come here at his leisure. This wasn’t a stepping stone in his career. There was no notch on his belt for this one. But really, it didn’t matter as much as one might think while climbing the hospital ladder back in the United States. He didn’t know where this job would lead -- he had no aspirations in mind. He just liked the raw, gritty reality of saving lives day after day.
That wasn’t to say it was easy.
No, this job was many things, but it wasn’t easy.
As it turned out, all those things Jay had pointed out as problems with the job were actually problems.
The hours were long. When Adam showed him the beds in the lounge, it had seemed like an exaggeration or an option of last resort. He found out quickly that they were regularly used, and even after he got settled in his apartment, he seemed to spend just as much time passed out on one of the shared beds. The schedule posted each week only gave him an indication of when his shift would start -- the end point was always a question mark.
Plus, the work was demanding. The ED wasn’t particularly well equipped, but it was in high demand as much as Adam said it was. It wasn’t uncommon to run short on supplies, and Will was back to doing shoestring medicine. After his time at Med -- with all the latest and best -- it was a bit of a shock at first. He hated the idea of losing patients, however, and he did whatever he could -- however it was possible.
There were also just practical issues involved. The first time he was in Africa, the team had been made up almost entirely of Westerners. English had been the primary language -- in fact, Adam had been the outlier. But now Adam’s English was impeccable, and the team had greatly diversified. More than half the staff were locals, and the primary language was the local dialect. This was, of course, how it should be. Will wasn’t a stupid American who thought that everyone should talk in his language. But his skills in this dialect were rudimentary at best, and he had to rely heavily on his bilingual nurses and Adam’s good graces while he did his best to pick up enough conversational language to talk to his patients one on one.
There were other cultural changes as well. Beyond the language, there were differences in sports, music, food and more. Will was older now; change didn’t come quite as readily as it used to. The hospital community was vibrant but insulated. While everyone already had friends, Will knew no one outside of Adam. Without shared interests, it was a hard barrier to breach.
Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. These barriers were for his social life, and Will had come for the medicine. To save lives.
To build his career.
On that front, there was never a shortage of things to do. Despite his years of medical experience, he was back to being low man on the totem pole. He had zero seniority. His career had been at a standstill in Chicago. Here, he was rebuilding it from the ground up.
And that ground?
Will had to admit it was shaky.
Sure, the hospital was doing great work. He believed in the organization, and the mission, and he really clicked with Adam’s leadership style.
But the issue of safety was more of a concern than he’d allowed himself to admit.
Despite his assurances to Jay that things were fine, they were not fine. The area was acclimated to crime, and the problem stemmed from local gangs that fought for territory. The hospital had been poised in the middle of the factions on purpose to serve both, which just made it a breeding ground for conflict.
All that aside, Will was doing his best to make himself at home. Although he spent most of his time at the hospital, he still got an apartment. It was small and unimpressive -- the kitchen had a mini fridge, a single sink and a hot plate -- but it was close to work. The crappy view he had of the back alley was a tradeoff for being in a neighborhood Adam deemed relatively safe.
Upon finding out where Will was staying, Adam objected stridently, offering Will a spare room at his place. It sounded like a genuine offer, but that was all the more reason not to take it. Will was here to carve his own way. He knew he was already far too reliant on Adam as it was.
He would make his own way, with his little crappy apartment, pathetic salary and nonstop hours. It was just as well, he decided. He didn’t need the distraction.
He just needed to keep his head down and get to work.
He just needed to save lives.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
-o-
That was Will’s plan, anyway.
Adam, it seemed, had other plans.
He had always known Adam to be a vibrant person. He had never been shy, and he’d never been one to be slow or measured. He lived life like he practiced medicine: with nothing held back. He was aggressive in everything did, including having a good time.
In the field, when they were young, they’d had to be creative in their extracurricular pursuits. There hadn’t always been a bar nearby, and it wasn’t like karaoke night was a thing in field hospitals. The fact that Will went home each night to the crappiest apartment in the city only seemed to make Adam more determined to ensure that Will was hardly ever there.
To that end, it was an endless stream of invitations. For lunch out. For a quick drink after work. For a visit to the store. For a stop at the park for a game of soccer. Adam was never out of suggestions, and Will was quickly running out of excuses. All he’d wanted was to work and live in his little apartment by himself, but Adam clearly had other ideas.
And Will’s willpower was starting to wane.
At the nurse’s station, Will was working on updating a chart when Adam waltzed over. He filed his own chart and then nodded at Will with determination. “We should go to the game tonight.”
Will didn’t look up but raised his eyebrows. “The game?”
“Football,” Adam said. “Two local teams, nothing very impressive, but so much fun.”
Will could only imagine what Adam’s definition of fun might include. “I’m good, thanks,” he said.
Adam was not so easily put off. “You are not good,” he said. “But no game. We will go for a drink! Then, you will be good.”
Will looked at Adam this time, smiling back at him. “I really just want to focus on work.”
Adam made a sound of discontent. “You work and work and work!” he cried out in objection. “This is not the man I remember!”
Will allowed himself a small chuckle. “Well, we have grown up a little since then.”
Adam wrinkled his nose. “Ah, you say grow up, but I say you have grown boring,” he said. “This is no way to live, man! Do you even go home to that apartment of yours?”
“Well, it is a crappy apartment,” Will said.
Adam grinned. “And I told you already: I have a spare room.”
Will smiled politely. “I’m just trying to get the job done, Adam. I came to work.”
Adam made a guttural noise in the back of his throat to show his disapproval. “And life is more than work,” he said. “Come!”
Raising his eyebrows, Will gave Adam a once over. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Adam raised his chin in defiance. It might have been intimidating were he not still smiling. “I am not.”
Somehow, the smile just made it harder to reject. “Fine,” Will said. He held up his finger. “One drink.”
Beaming at him, Adam slapped him on the shoulder. “If I remember correctly, all it takes is one for you, Halstead.”
-o-
Adam was exaggerating, but not by much. Will had a few drinks, but he was a bit of a lightweight and the last thing he needed was to lose control of his faculties while still getting his bearings in a new job.
Still, if he was going to go out, then he needed to be out. He had agreed to come, and that meant being a good sport, for Adam’s sake if nothing else.
Except it was just Adam.
It was one of the attending from neurology who liked cocktails. It was the charge nurse who laughed so loud it echoed over the din. It was the radiology tech who had a story for every topic that came up In conversation.
It was all of them, living life, being present. They talked, they laughed, they cursed, they joked. Will didn’t add much, but he was there.
Somehow that mattered.
Because for the first time since coming back to Africa, he was really there. As the new guy, he didn’t have much to add to the conversation, and he couldn’t make out the punchline to every joke, but he listened to the sound of their banter and could not help but join in the sound of their laughter.
He was there, see. Around people living their lives. Not just existing: living.
The distinction was sudden and keen.
It was so intense that he didn’t know what to do with it, so he excused himself early and made his way home alone.
Because existing -- Will understood.
But living?
Will wasn’t sure he was ready yet.
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
Will made the last of his preparation with little pomp. There were a lot of details to manage, making sure he was ready for a long stay overseas. The paperwork was monotonous, and with lingering COVID restrictions in place, it took longer than it normally would have. He decided that was a good thing, though. It gave him something to do while he wound down this chapter of his life.
For as much as he was resolved and determined to make this move, the loss still ached. Whenever he had too much time to sit and think, he was struck by everything he was leaving behind. He couldn’t help but think about his life at Med. He wondered how Ethan was recovering. How was Archer managing the ED? Had Maggie figured out how to move on after giving up Auggie? When was April’s last day? Did Goodwin ever think twice about what had happened to him?
Why would should she? Why would any of it matter? He’d forfeited all of that, and he had to give up the dream -- no matter how much he wanted it.
That was the hard part, really. He did want it. He had chased countless things, and it had driven him all his life. The constant struggle, the continual pursuit: it had allowed him to get out of Canaryville. It had helped him push through college when he had nothing to back him up. He’d never settled for the second best. He’d gone harder and faster than everyone else.
So what if one thing didn’t work out? For Will, there had always been another. Failure was just the prelude to the next adventure. Success, in his mind, was always just around the corner. With the next job. With the next girl. With the next city.
But coming back to Chicago had changed all that. It had changed him. He had stayed when it got hard. He had persevered when things became unclear. He stood tall in the face of job difficulties. He didn’t run when relationships went south.
That was what made this all so hard. Now that he’d finally made the choice to stay, he knew it was time to leave for real. Everything else in his life, he’d ended prematurely. At Med, he’d seen it through to the end, and now he had to face that.
The end.
Not the beginning.
But the end.
Will knew this was what he had to do, but he hated every moment of it. He hated himself for letting it get this far. The weight of it threatened to crush him sometimes, and if he didn’t preoccupy himself with tedious moving tasks and distracting conversation with his brother, it might have been too much.
Sometimes it still felt like too much.
But there was nothing to be done for it now.
There was nothing to be done for him.
-o-
It was the longest and shortest two weeks of Will’s life. After close to a decade in Chicago, he was forced to pack up all his memories into a storage unit and break all ties with a meager two-week notice. Each minute was excruciating because he knew what was coming. But each minute slipped through his fingers because he knew he couldn’t hold onto them no matter how much he wanted to.
By the end of his two weeks, Will had sublet his apartment and secured all his belongings. He’d packed the very bare minimum into his weary suitcases, and he had his paperwork and identification all in order. Although he had refused a farewell party like Jay had wanted, he made a point to text the few people left in town who mattered to him. He said goodbye to Maggie and April, and he even wished Ethan the best of luck in his recovery. There were a few other doctors and nurses he wanted to maintain professional connections with, but the list was shorter than it might have been a few months ago.
He didn’t contact Ms. Goodwin.
She didn’t contact him.
It was just as well.
He thought about giving Natalie another call, but he settled for a text. She texted back quickly, telling him that she had already arrived in Washington. Her mom was doing well with the new heart, and they had gotten established with a new cardiologist out there to maintain her follow up care. Owen was excited to be close to the mountains and the ocean, and he seemed to be doing well.
She ended by asking how he was doing.
Fine, was all he had the heart to reply. I’m doing just fine.
-o-
All that aside, Jay was always going to be the hardest part.
Everything else -- that was about how Will had hurt himself.
But what his departure would do to Jay -- that was a burden he still had to reckon with.
Will wasn’t naive. It wasn’t like Jay needed him or something. Jay was a fully functional adult, even more than Will had ever been. He had a good, stable job, and he was well respected and liked. He had a community -- a whole family -- in Intelligence, and those bonds had proven to be somewhat unshakable over the years. And then there was Hailey. Complicated or not, Jay loved Hailey, and Will had every confidence that they’d make it work. He’d save up whatever time he got off to make it back for the wedding -- whenever Jay got around to giving her the ring.
Even so, Will couldn’t afford to be naive. He’d always known Jay was just fine without him, but he’d never fully appreciated just how much his brother wanted him. Jay valued family in a different way, and for Jay, you showed how much you cared by showing up. Jay was the steadying force between them, and Will’s flighty behavior had always strained things between them. This time in Chicago had rebuilt so much between them.
Will was reluctant to give that up. He wanted to think they could still be like they were, but he knew it would be different. He’d put himself on this road, and his relationship with Jay would be one of the many casualties of it.
To say he felt guilty would be an understatement. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure how Jay could stand being around him most of the time -- much less muster up enough energy to celebrate.
If Jay could do it, then Will was obliged to do it, too. This wasn’t about him. Not this time.
So he let Jay pick the venue. He obliged every request, grateful that his brother had at least taken some of his preferences into consideration. It was indeed just the two of them, and though the restaurant was a little high brow for Will’s current budget, it was quiet and calm. Honestly, it was kind of nice.
Just expensive.
Will winced at the prices. He had a bit of a nest egg, but moving after breaking up with Hannah had put a strain on things. He’d had to invest a lot into his travel arrangements, and he knew that his reduced paycheck meant that keeping his savings robust now was important. He wouldn’t be adding to it much over the next year.
Everyone thought that doctors were rich, but Will had never been rolling in cash. He’d been nearly impoverished throughout most of his residency, and the combination of school debt and malpractice insurance had crippled his finances for years. Things had leveled out more recently, but the reality that he had hit a wall in his career and frequent moves had done their damage as well. Will was in his 30s with a mountain debt to pay off and the prospect of his lowest paying job since college on the horizon.
Needless to say, 30 dollar fish made him cringe.
To his surprise, before he could order himself the 20 dollar pork chop, Jay took the initiative to order for both of them.
To Will’s horror, he picked the most expensive thing on the menu.
Needless to say, Will was embarrassed. His cheeks flushed red and he lowered his voice, leaning toward his brother, wishing he could avoid the prying eyes of their waitress. “Jay, I really can’t afford--”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not paying,” he replied, as though it was a question he’d been anticipating all along. He smiled warmly back at their waitress to assuage the awkwardness. “Two halibuts, please. And bring the appetizer medley and a bottle of something that’s supposed to be good.”
By this point, Will was all but mortified. If anything, Will owed Jay dinner -- and then some. For Jay to take him to a nice restaurant, order an expensive meal and then the extras? And the drinks?
Will didn’t even know what to do with that.
He smiled politely as the waitress collected their menus, and he looked at Jay anxiously.
Jay took a drink of his water, and raised his eyebrows back. “What?”
“It’s just kind of a lot,” Will said.
“That’s the point,” Jay said. “I mean, we’re celebrating, right?”
Will shifted in his chair, feeling more conspicuous by the minute. “I guess I don’t know why,” he admitted. “This isn’t some big accomplishment. I got fired.”
“You quit,” Jay said, sticking to that point like a dog with a bone. “And you’re pursuing something that matters to you. You’re taking a risk for all the right reasons. This is different from all the other times, and I’m trying to be on board with that.”
The level of his brother’s understanding was both heartening and overwhelming. It was a grace he didn’t deserve. At the same time, he was in no position to refuse it. “Jay,” he said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. His eyes were burning a little. “I don’t -- I don’t know--”
Jay sat forward, shaking his head. “You do know,” he said. “I don’t love you moving to Africa for a lot of reasons, but it’s not going to be like it was before. Whatever you think you messed up in Chicago, you didn’t mess up everything. You and me, right? We’re better than ever. So if you can’t celebrate anything else about your time in Chicago, then let me celebrate that.”
“Okay, then,” Will said, lifting his glass of water with the biggest smile he could muster. “To family.”
Jay took his own water and raised it more vigorously. “To brothers.”
It was, Will decided, more than he deserved.
-o-
Despite Will’s hesitations, dinner was nice. Jay was in good spirits, and Will did his best to be upbeat. He knew he owed Jay that -- he owed Jay everything -- and if he’d hurt everyone else in Chicago, he hated the idea of hurting his brother, too.
So they ate good food. They drank nice wine. And they talked about all the things they remembered, growing up in Canaryville and finding their place in Chicago when all was said and done. They talked about family, about their mom’s breakfast casseroles and the way their dad taught them to play catch in the backyard. They talked about getting into fights at school, and how they wondered how many kids were still in the neighborhood.
Jay talked about Hailey, and how things were going. Will told him more about Adam and the organization where he was investing his future. Will asked Jay if he’d got the ring yet; Jay scoffed and asked Will when he could visit Chicago again.
They stayed for dessert, which they weren’t hungry for, but Will knew that Jay wasn’t ready to leave. He stayed for that because he knew he couldn’t stay tomorrow.
One last night for the Halstead brothers.
One last night for home.
-o-
Will was still staying at Jay’s, given that his own apartment was empty and he turned in the keys yesterday. He felt a little like he was imposing, but Jay all but insisted. He imagined that was how his brother preferred it, and Will knew that time there was short.
Extremely short, now.
They got back to the apartment late, and Will had a flight in the mid morning tomorrow. Jay had wanted to take him to the airport, but Will had declined. An uber would get the job just fine, and it would simplify the process of saying goodbye.
At least, that had been the theory.
Back at Jay’s apartment, the inevitable silence between them, nothing seemed simple about it.
And Will wanted to be happy. Will wanted to be upbeat and optimistic. He wanted to show his brother how sure he was, how confident. He wanted to take heart in knowing he was making the right choice.
Instead, he felt a gnawing emptiness. For all that he had ahead of him, Will felt gripped by what he was leaving behind. What he might gain seemed like nothing compared to what he lost -- what he’d willfully given up. And now he was giving up Jay, too. He was leaving him behind, because no one ever promised him that the right thing would be easy.
That the right thing would make him happy.
Will wasn’t sure if he’d ever be happy again.
Sitting on the couch, Will did his best to get ready for bed, but it was harder to go through the motions tonight. The routine couldn’t sustain him forever, and he felt stretched thin as the pieces of his life wobbled precariously.
Jay got one more drink from the kitchen, pausing to drink it with a look at Will. He looked like he might now say anything, but this was literally their last chance.
“You sure you’re okay, man? With all this?” he asked.
Will was nearly trembling as he tried to keep his composure. He laughed, breathless and humorless. He felt the tension building in his chest, restricting his throat almost painfully. “Not really.”
Jay crossed closer to him, hesitating before he sat down on the couch next to him. “You don’t have to go,” he said. “I know you have the ticket and signed a contract, but you don’t have to go, Will.”
Looking down, Will found that his eyes were burning. “I do.”
“But if it’s not what you want--”
“It’s not about what I want,” Will said, voice almost choking off. He looked up at Jay with a helpless shrug. “I have to go. I have to.”
Jay studied him carefully, measuring his next words with clear consideration. “You keep saying that, but I know you. It’s like you’re only half here right now. You’re barely going through the motions.”
There was no reason to deny it. “I guess it’s just -- harder than I realized,” he admitted, giving voice to the yawning grief inside him. “After all the time I spent wandering, I thought I’d come home. I thought Med was it, the end all, be all -- just like Natalie. I was going to have my happily ever after, Jay. And now it’s -- just gone. All of it. I don’t really know what’s left.”
“More than you think,” Jay said, not missing a single beat of the conversation. “I keep telling you that, man. It’s a lot more.”
Will let his shoulders sag. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I’ve got to figure this out -- on my own. I have to make the pieces fit again.”
“Without me?”Jay asked, and the question wasn’t intended to be cruel. If anything, his brother’s face was clouded with sympathy.
Will’s heart tugged painfully in his chest. “Jay--”
Jay bobbed his head away. “I know, I know,” he said. “I do. But like you said: it’s hard.”
“I wish I could stay,” Will told him. He exhaled, but it only made him feel worse. “All my life, I’ve been running away.”
“And this time you’re running toward something,” Jay said. He sighed, too. “Like I told you, this time is different.”
Will nodded, wishing he could find that fact reassuring. “I just wish I knew what it was.”
Jay patted him on the arm, squeezing his bicep gently. “You’ll figure it out, man.”
The smile he found was for his brother and his brother alone. “Thanks, Jay,” he said. “You’ve been a better brother than I deserve.”
“Truth be told, you haven’t been half as bad as I make you out to be,” Jay said, letting his hand drop back down. “Neither of us have the market on brother of the year.”
Will shook his head now. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “You don’t have to pretend like I haven’t completely taken family for granted.”
“You had your moments, sure, but how else does a kid from Canaryville become a doctor?” Jay said.
“That’s the problem,” Will said. “I put myself first -- my career first. And for what? To get fired from every job I ever had?”
“You quit this one,” Jay said again, unyielding on that point. “And it’s not about right or wrong or the other. “I’ve always looked at family in terms of what I need. But you’re not me. You need different things. So, if you need to go to Africa right now, then I’m going to be there for you while you go to Africa. And I’m sure as hell going to be here when you come back home.”
It had taken a lot to get them here. Will wasn’t the only one who had changed in the last ten years. And to think, if he’d never stayed at Med, he wouldn’t have this to fall back on.
If he hadn’t had this -- well, Will didn’t know what he would have done.
“I’m really sorry, Jay,” he said finally, because his brother was owed more than one apology from him, but this was all he had left. “For everything.”
Jay smiled slightly, but the look in his eyes said it all. “Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not.”
The job at Med was over. His life in Chicago was done. But his relationship with his brother, he knew for sure this time, would endure. “I’m going to miss you,” he said.
Jay grinned now. “You bet your ass you will,” he snarked. He reached out, shoving Will playfully this time. “I’m not going to miss you at all.”
With that, Jay headed to bed, and Will sat on the couch for awhile, just taking it in. In the past, when he left, he hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t looked back. Now, on the precipice of the next change, he wished he could go back. He wished he had the luxury of changing his mind.
Mostly, he was struck by the fact that he didn’t want to go.
Which was precisely why he knew he had no choice.
Will closed his eyes, but didn’t sleep, and waited for the morning to come.
-o-
In the morning, there was little to do. Will’s life had been reduced to a pair of suitcases and a carry-on, and he ate the breakfast Jay made in relative silence. Neither of them knew what to say; words probably didn’t matter at this point. Jay helped him gather up his things as they went downstairs to wait for the ride. When the car got there, they loaded up the suitcases together and turned to face each other one more time.
“Let me know when you get to the airport,” Jay said. “And when you’re ready for your flight.”
“Sure,” Will said.
“And then when you’re at cruising altitude--”
“I will,” Will said.
“And then when you land--”
Will shook his head. “Jay, I will,” he said, trying to break the litany of reminders. “I’ll be in touch, okay? I promise.
Jay hesitated, as if trying to decide whether to believe him or not. There was a lifetime of failed promises between them, but the last few years counted for something, Will hoped.
He had failed all the rest, but maybe -- just maybe -- he hadn’t failed here where it mattered most.
Jay nodded, swallowing hard. He reached out, hugging Will tautly.
“Okay,” he said. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” Will said, finally headed for the car. He turned back with a grin. “Go save the city.”
Jay smirked with familiarity. “And you go save the world.”
-o-
Saying goodbye was a surreal thing, and Will climbed into the uber for the ride to the airport in relative quiet. The driver tried to make some small talk, but she clearly saw that Will was in no mood to talk. Honestly, Will wasn’t sure he was in the mood for anything.
He just was.
Each step, as inevitable as the last. It wasn’t a question of want or desire. It was a question of necessity.
That didn’t make it easier, though.
That didn’t make it hurt less.
The airport was an apt enough distraction, trying to check his bags and navigate his way through the crowded security line. Around him, people were traveling for all sorts of reasons. Families going on vacation; business travelers trying to make a connection; college kids coming home.
Will wasn’t sure where he fit in, and he kept his head down, sitting at his gate with an expectancy he hated. He wondered if Jay was at work yet. He thought about the morning shift starting at Med. He considered whether or not Natalie had sold her townhouse yet.
Idle thoughts, though -- and they were no longer his concern.
This choice he was making was real. This choice had consequences. He was giving up his right to be involved here. He was giving up the right to call this place home, to call these people family.
Maybe, someday, he’d earn the right to come back.
But as for today, Will boarded his plane and couldn’t bring himself to look back.
-o-
As promised, Will kept his brother dutifully informed, texting him regularly. The idea of distracting his brother was not one he was fond of, but he suspected that Jay would be more distracted by not hearing from him.
Besides, the flight was long, and Will really didn’t have much else to do. He’d brought a few books with him, but he didn’t have much interest in reading. He did peruse a few medical journals on and off, but reading about trials was admittedly a little uncomfortable for him to do at the moment.
It was a direct flight, which had seemed good in theory, but Will had been crammed into the economy section of the plane. His legs ached from the lack of space, and the whole thing was a touch claustrophobic. When the person next to him found out he was a doctor, he was regaled with various medical questions, ranging from mole inspection to medicare fraud.
Needless to say, landing was a bit of relief, but Will knew better than to think that was the end.
If anything, it was just the beginning.
It was true Will had been here before, and he’d been a lot greener the first time he’d come to Africa. His experience seemed to work against him now, and he wasn’t as nimble with change as he used to be. He’d arrived before, ready to conquer the world.
This felt like more of a retreat, somehow.
Maybe even a defeat of sorts.
Worse, now that he was on the ground, he was struck with the reality of what he was doing here. Restarting his career, traveling to another continent -- those were scary things, sure.
But he was also about to come face to face with Adam.
He and Adam had been fast friends before. In fact, they’d been nearly inseparable, as close to brothers as any other friend in Will’s life. They’d practiced field medicine together in the worst conditions, and they’d come out stronger for it.
It was that relationship that Will had leveraged to get here again.
Except Adam was also the reason he’d left.
Will often framed his departure as a messy failed relationship with a girlfriend. That was technically true. Except the girlfriend had been Adam’s sister. It hadn’t been messy as much as it had been a disaster. Will had broken her heart and left her hysterical. Terrified of the consequences of that, he’d left without as much as a goodbye and put his resignation in the mail.
It had seemed like the easy thing at the time. Indeed, for the past decade, he hadn’t had to face up to it at all.
But here he was.
Back to face it.
Back to face all all of it.
He’d always known that it wouldn’t be easy, but standing there, dragging his luggage behind him, he was suddenly aware of just how hard it was going to be.
Before he had the chance to panic, he heard someone calling his name.
“Halstead! Over here! Halsted!”
Will turned out of instinct, and even though it had been years, Adam was easy enough to recognize.
“Halstead!” Adam called again, moving to intercept him quickly. “There you are!”
Face to face, Adam had changed in a lot of ways. His face was creased a little more, especially up around the eyes. Though he kept his hair closely shaven, the black curls were tinged with gray around the temples. He wore glasses now, wire spectacles that made him look mature and responsible.
Looks could be deceiving.
When Adam smiled, a broad, mischievous grin, Will knew that Adam hadn’t changed in every way. He was just as irreverent and impulsive as he’d always been.
Despite himself, and the circumstances of this job offer, he couldn’t help but smile as he crossed toward his old friend. Adam whooped a little, and Will offered his hand but Adam swept Will up into a bear hug instead. It was a rush, and Will was grinning widely as Adam put him back down again.
“Look at you!” Will said, collecting his breath and trying to get his bearings back in line. “Adam Goshit, here in the flesh.”
“Ah!” Adam said, slapping him upside the arm. “I never left. Look at you! Finally coming back!”
Standing in the busy airport, Will found himself embarrassed. He’d called in this favor on a desperate whim. And here he was. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d take my call.”
“And yet, you called anyway,” Adam said magnanimously. “And be realistic, my friend. You are hardly the first person to leave our service unannounced. Turnover remains quite high.”
“Well, you do advertise as putting doctors on the front lines with low pay and high risks,” Will pointed out.
“Again, you called me,” Adam said smugly.
Will nodded, feeling just a touch sheepish. “You might say I was a little desperate.”
Adam made a loud sound of dismissal. “Ha! And here I thought you just missed me.’
“Of course I missed you,” Will replied readily. “Working here, with you and the team -- that was one of the best experiences of my life.”
Adam gave his brow a quizzical crease. “So you waited ten years?”
It was a point Adam could have made with malice -- honestly, Will didn’t know why he wouldn’t. Given the circumstances of his departure and the suddenness of his return, Will didn’t exactly have any high ground left to cede. “Well, the last time I saw you, I did sleep with your sister,” he said. Because if this was going to work out, then he needed to start it with honesty. He couldn’t be a good doctor with an elephant like that lurking in the room.
He was bringing enough baggage with him on this job. He couldn’t possibly manage with that bit, too.
To his relief, Adam only smiled. “That you did,” he said. “And then you went and broke her heart.”
The ready admission made the happy reunion suddenly feel off putting. Will shirked back, shifting his weight from one foot to another cautiously. “Look, I really am grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me here, and it’s great to see you -- really, it is, but if this is going to be hard for you--”
Now, Adam looked at him like he might be crazy. “Halstead! Where is your sense of humor after all these years! Please!” he cajoled loudly, voice echoing over the din. “My sister is a beautiful, fun, amazing woman -- who loves to have her heart broken. She does it weekly. And she had her eye on you from the first week of your fellowship. How you held out for nearly a year? I am still in awe.”
Adam was speaking easily, and he was still smiling. The cadence of his voice was leisurely, almost pleased. Like he wasn’t actually upset.
Like he was actually fine with what had happened.
Confused, Will shook his head, trying and failing to get his bearings. “Wait. You mean, you’re not mad?”
Adam looked at him like this was the most obvious question in the world. “And why should I be?” he asked. “As I have told you now, this is what my sister does. She had a new boyfriend the day after you left. And she broke up with him in less than a week. The drama -- it is what she likes. It is what she craves. That -- and white, ginger men.”
Will stared at him, wondering if he had misheard somehow. If not, he was wondering how he’d misinterpreted so much for so long. “So, you’re saying I left Africa--”
Adam gave a small snort of laughter. “You were really so afraid after sleeping with my sister?” he asked, more incredulous than ever. “That is the saddest story I have ever heard, possibly. Why did you not talk to me about it?”
It seemed stupid now. No, it seemed obvious. Will was an idiot, though. He had always been an idiot, and -- go figure -- Jay had been right about him from the start. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess running was just always easier. It’s always been my fallback plan.”
“Ah, easier,” Adam said, patting his shoulder again. “But not better, my friend. Not better.”
Will made a wide gesture. He felt foolish, but there was nothing to be done for it now. He was here, and he had no other options. He’d run out of fallback plans, it seemed. There was just the cold, uncomfortable truth. “Lesson learned, I guess.”
“Let us hope so,” Adam said. “Now come! You must be quite tired after your trip! Come, come!”
And Will gathered his bags, feeling like he had no choice but to follow after.
-o-
Will had left Africa more than ten years ago, but it felt and looked just like he remembered. Not so much the places -- for the dense city had grown and morphed over the years -- and not the people -- because Adam had been telling the truth, turnover was high here -- but in the energy. The bustle, the constant movement. Chicago was a busy city, that much was true, but it wasn’t like this. There was a rawness to the energy here that was equal parts invigorating and terrifying.
This kind of place was intoxicating on some levels, especially to the doctor in him. There was so much need and so few resources to meet those needs. It drew you in and threatened to consume you. It was no wonder that it spit you out just as quickly.
The funny part, as he rode in Adam’s car to the hospital, was that Will had been good here. While so many of his classmates had chosen fancy jobs with cushy perks, he’d been drawn here where there was no prestige or comfort to be found. He’d been at home immediately, enticed by the inherent challenges of it all. While other doctors who signed out had burned out one after another, Will had found his groove. He’d been a natural fit. There’d be a time, however short, when he thought he might stay there forever.
Coming back, he fleetingly wondered why he’d left. He knew why, of course. Because he’s screwed up, just like he always did. There was a part of him that wondered if he couldn’t deal with a good thing. Maybe he got nervous when things were too good. Maybe sleeping with Adam’s sister had been unconscious self-sabotage.
Maybe he was always looking for his way out.
It was a discussion that Dr. Charles would love, but his favorite psychiatrist was all the way back in Chicago. That was an errant train of thought that led neither here nor there. Will had to stay focused.
That meant getting his bearings here -- and now. If he was going to practice medicine here, then he needed to hit the ground running. This was time to listen, to watch, to learn.
When they got through traffic and arrived at the hospital, Will was reminded again of just how dramatic his choice was. From the outside, the hospital barely looked like a hospital. If not for the ambulances pulled up in front, it would be easy to overlook.
The way Adam approached it, however, made it feel like it was home.
The thought made Will ache for a moment. He had felt like that once. He’d thought he’d never leave. But he’d been reckless and careless, and now, here he was. Investing into someone else’s home because he’d let his own be forfeit. Homesickness might be expected in a move this drastic, but Will reminded himself that he didn’t have the right to it.
All he had was the right here, the right now.
The small saving grace was that Adam was so pleased with Will being there that he didn’t really notice his trepidation. If anything, Adam was only increasingly excited to show Will around.
The exterior had barely resembled a hospital.
The interior was clearly a hospital.
Just not like one Will had ever worked in before.
According to Adam, the facility was a new one, but that was not a precise description. New, in Adam’s telling, was just new to them. The building was a new acquisition for the organization, but it had clearly already seen better days. As best Will could tell, the building used to be a factory, but it had been retrofitted for medical purposes.
Retrofitted was also a term that could be used liberally -- and subjectively.
There were four surgical suites, but that was a generous description. Many of the wards ran together, and even now, during a slow time in the midweek, they were operating at capacity in most of them. Adam showed him to the billing and administrative wing, which was a series of supply closets that had been hastily retrofitted, before explaining that the organization had rapidly expanded its pro bono offerings. Many of the people they served were charged on a sliding scale in order to make the healthcare accessible to the poorest populations in the city.
That was impressive.
The ED was less so.
At Med, the ED was a sprawling space, fully equipped with more equipment in a single exam room than in the entirety of Adam’s ED. Baghdad was state of the art, and the hybrid room Connor had championed several years ago was still better than every surgical suite put together.
This ED was long and narrow, with disconnected passageways that had been adapted in haste. Rooms were clean, but bare. Equipment needed to be shared, not just between ED exam rooms but across the hospital.
He had worked in these conditions before, but his years in New York and at Med had spoiled him. There was something to be said for cutting-edge medicine, sure. But getting back to the basics, working in the trenches -- it was both invigorating and terrifying.
Adam didn’t bother with pretense. He made no apologies for anything, and he actually seemed proud of what they had cobbled together. It was perspective, of course, and Will knew that this place had been built from nothing. It was impressive, in its own way. Compared to the conditions during his first tour, this was downright luxurious. At the very least, Will felt like he’d ended up where he belonged.
Fewer distractions.
No temptations.
Just medicine.
They ended in the lounge, which was little more than a glorified locker room. “That is it, more or less,” he said. “You will get used to things in no time, I am sure.”
“A hospital is a hospital,” Will said, trying to project an air of confidence when really there was just acceptance. “I’m actually much more concerned about finding a place to live. There really isn’t housing provided anymore?”
“As our network expanded, it became impossible. Stipends were much more realistic,” Adam explained. “Besides, now that we have a presence in cities, the idea of separate housing is much less practical.”
Will nodded. “Just not quite as easy,” he admitted. “I think I can find my way around the ED, but the city? That’s a little more intimidating.”
Adam made a little squawk. “But you are from Chicago! You lived in New York City! These are great cities! Grand cities!”
“Familiar cities,” Will cautioned. “Ones where everyone spoke English.”
Adam flapped his hand at Will dismissively. “You will be fine,” he said. “Besides, you can stay here at the hospital until you find the right place. That will make things quite simple for you to start.”
“Yeah, you said that over the phone before I came, but it seems weird,” Will said. “You have space here for it?”
Adam shrugged as though that was a rather irrelevant concern. “Well, we have beds in the back half of the doctor’s lounge, just beyond that door. And there is a shower in the bathroom,” he explained as a matter of course. “The cafeteria is nothing fancy, but--”
Will shook his head, interrupting him. “Why are there beds in the lounge?”
Will sounded vexed, but Adam remained utterly indifferent. “Well, we have been badly short staffed lately. It is not uncommon to pull long shifts. The beds make that possible.”
“Long?” Will asked, hoping to clarify that point. “Just how long are you talking if you literally need beds in the lounge?”
“Two days, sometimes? Occasionally three,” Adam said with a little indifferent motion. “There was one time, last fall, I myself lived here for a good week. It was not so bad.”
By now, Will was gaping. “Are you serious? This is even worse than it was when I left! I thought you said things were better.”
“Better is relative, yes?” Adam asked. “It is a sign of our growth -- our demand. We have expanded so fast into so many areas of high demand that we are having trouble keeping up. It is a good problem to have, I think. For the organization and for our patients.”
Will let out a small, breathy laugh. “Just not for your doctors.”
Adam grinned, unapologetic. “Why do you think I was so quick to offer you the job?”
Will had to chuckle in agreement now. “So that resume I sent you was just for show?”
“Now you’re getting it,” Adam mused. Then, more seriously, he continued. “But I am sincere when I say I am glad you are here, my friend. If there is anything you need, please.”
Will was about to thank him again, when suddenly the door behind them opened.
“Dr. Goshit, there’s been a construction accident. Multiple victims incoming,” one of the nurses said, poking her head into the lounge.
“Is Dr. Dorsey still here?” Adam asked, looking somewhat distracted now.
“No, she left twenty minutes ago,” the nurse explained. “I can page her--”
Adam shook his head, brow starting to furrow. “She’ll be on the train by now; it’d take her an hour to get back in here,” he said. “Can we call down support from orthopedics and cardiology to cover the influx?”
“Cardiology is busy, but I may be able to pull someone from ortho,” the nurse said. “We can divert a patient or two--”
“Look, if you need doctors, then why don’t I help?” Will said, interjecting his services naturally. “I mean, this is why I’m here.”
Adam glanced at him with a quick, appraising look. “You don’t want to take the day? Get acclimated? That was our plan.”
“I’m sure it’d be best if I could, just to learn where things are and get to know the nurses, but a trauma is a trauma. You need doctors, and I’m standing right here.”
With one last hesitation, Adam’s look was more appraising than skeptical. “Are you quite confident, Halstead?”
Will shrugged, but there was no reason to doubt it now. He’d come all the way across the world. He’d left everything and everyone behind. For this. Just for this.
“This is why I’m here,” he said simply.
Adam nodded, plainly satisfied with that answer. “Then, come,” he said. “We will save some lives.”
-o-
Will was on a new continent in a new hospital where he didn’t even speak the primary language of most of his patients. He was out of his element, and he was sure he stuck out like a sore thumb. His confidence was diminished; his pride was at an all-time low. He was tired, lonely and embarrassed to be starting over at this point in his life when everyone else was moving onward and upward.
But in the trauma room, none of that mattered.
In the trauma room, Will was still the same doctor he’d always thought he could be. Here, it wasn’t about right or wrong, politics or politeness. This was just about the medicine. It was about saving lives.
And Will had been bad with ethics. He had completely failed to follow the rules.
But he’d always been damn good at saving lives.
It wasn’t as seamless as it might have been back in Chicago, but Will made it work. He quickly leaned into the ebb and flow of the ED, and when a few of his requests fell flat with the nurses, he amended them soon enough. Trauma was its own language, in some regards. They were all focused on saving lives -- and that was what Will did.
It took a good hour to clear the worst of the trauma out of the ED, and Will hung around while Adam was in the OR, taking on some of the patients still holed up in the waiting room to make up for the backlog that always came with an emergent trauma. By the time Adam came back to check on him, Will had things well in hand.
Adam was impressed, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised.
“I see you have not changed, then, Halstead,” he said.
Will, despite everything, found himself high on the adrenaline rush. “I still have a few things to figure out,” he said. “New ED, new people--”
Adam laughed, and he shook his head. “But still saving lives,” he said. He jabbed his finger at Will’s chest. “I knew this was a good idea.”
There was a moment of heady relief, the slow idea that maybe Will had made the right choice after all. That was a dangerous sensation, though. And Will couldn’t be trusted with affirmation -- not yet.
“Well,” he said, trying to demur instead. “I’m just here to help out.”
Adam, however, would not be deterred. “And I am quite confident that you will help out a lot, my friend. Quite confident indeed.”
Will couldn’t bring himself to openly disagree, but he knew why he was here -- and he didn’t dare believe.
-o-
Yet, he was good at it.
He fit into the job seamlessly, and Will remembered why he’d loved working in Africa so much in the first place. It came back to him, just like riding a bike, and sometimes it was like he’d never left. There was a sharp learning curve, of course, but Will mastered it without a problem.
In short, Will liked the job. True, he hadn’t come here at his leisure. This wasn’t a stepping stone in his career. There was no notch on his belt for this one. But really, it didn’t matter as much as one might think while climbing the hospital ladder back in the United States. He didn’t know where this job would lead -- he had no aspirations in mind. He just liked the raw, gritty reality of saving lives day after day.
That wasn’t to say it was easy.
No, this job was many things, but it wasn’t easy.
As it turned out, all those things Jay had pointed out as problems with the job were actually problems.
The hours were long. When Adam showed him the beds in the lounge, it had seemed like an exaggeration or an option of last resort. He found out quickly that they were regularly used, and even after he got settled in his apartment, he seemed to spend just as much time passed out on one of the shared beds. The schedule posted each week only gave him an indication of when his shift would start -- the end point was always a question mark.
Plus, the work was demanding. The ED wasn’t particularly well equipped, but it was in high demand as much as Adam said it was. It wasn’t uncommon to run short on supplies, and Will was back to doing shoestring medicine. After his time at Med -- with all the latest and best -- it was a bit of a shock at first. He hated the idea of losing patients, however, and he did whatever he could -- however it was possible.
There were also just practical issues involved. The first time he was in Africa, the team had been made up almost entirely of Westerners. English had been the primary language -- in fact, Adam had been the outlier. But now Adam’s English was impeccable, and the team had greatly diversified. More than half the staff were locals, and the primary language was the local dialect. This was, of course, how it should be. Will wasn’t a stupid American who thought that everyone should talk in his language. But his skills in this dialect were rudimentary at best, and he had to rely heavily on his bilingual nurses and Adam’s good graces while he did his best to pick up enough conversational language to talk to his patients one on one.
There were other cultural changes as well. Beyond the language, there were differences in sports, music, food and more. Will was older now; change didn’t come quite as readily as it used to. The hospital community was vibrant but insulated. While everyone already had friends, Will knew no one outside of Adam. Without shared interests, it was a hard barrier to breach.
Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. These barriers were for his social life, and Will had come for the medicine. To save lives.
To build his career.
On that front, there was never a shortage of things to do. Despite his years of medical experience, he was back to being low man on the totem pole. He had zero seniority. His career had been at a standstill in Chicago. Here, he was rebuilding it from the ground up.
And that ground?
Will had to admit it was shaky.
Sure, the hospital was doing great work. He believed in the organization, and the mission, and he really clicked with Adam’s leadership style.
But the issue of safety was more of a concern than he’d allowed himself to admit.
Despite his assurances to Jay that things were fine, they were not fine. The area was acclimated to crime, and the problem stemmed from local gangs that fought for territory. The hospital had been poised in the middle of the factions on purpose to serve both, which just made it a breeding ground for conflict.
All that aside, Will was doing his best to make himself at home. Although he spent most of his time at the hospital, he still got an apartment. It was small and unimpressive -- the kitchen had a mini fridge, a single sink and a hot plate -- but it was close to work. The crappy view he had of the back alley was a tradeoff for being in a neighborhood Adam deemed relatively safe.
Upon finding out where Will was staying, Adam objected stridently, offering Will a spare room at his place. It sounded like a genuine offer, but that was all the more reason not to take it. Will was here to carve his own way. He knew he was already far too reliant on Adam as it was.
He would make his own way, with his little crappy apartment, pathetic salary and nonstop hours. It was just as well, he decided. He didn’t need the distraction.
He just needed to keep his head down and get to work.
He just needed to save lives.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
-o-
That was Will’s plan, anyway.
Adam, it seemed, had other plans.
He had always known Adam to be a vibrant person. He had never been shy, and he’d never been one to be slow or measured. He lived life like he practiced medicine: with nothing held back. He was aggressive in everything did, including having a good time.
In the field, when they were young, they’d had to be creative in their extracurricular pursuits. There hadn’t always been a bar nearby, and it wasn’t like karaoke night was a thing in field hospitals. The fact that Will went home each night to the crappiest apartment in the city only seemed to make Adam more determined to ensure that Will was hardly ever there.
To that end, it was an endless stream of invitations. For lunch out. For a quick drink after work. For a visit to the store. For a stop at the park for a game of soccer. Adam was never out of suggestions, and Will was quickly running out of excuses. All he’d wanted was to work and live in his little apartment by himself, but Adam clearly had other ideas.
And Will’s willpower was starting to wane.
At the nurse’s station, Will was working on updating a chart when Adam waltzed over. He filed his own chart and then nodded at Will with determination. “We should go to the game tonight.”
Will didn’t look up but raised his eyebrows. “The game?”
“Football,” Adam said. “Two local teams, nothing very impressive, but so much fun.”
Will could only imagine what Adam’s definition of fun might include. “I’m good, thanks,” he said.
Adam was not so easily put off. “You are not good,” he said. “But no game. We will go for a drink! Then, you will be good.”
Will looked at Adam this time, smiling back at him. “I really just want to focus on work.”
Adam made a sound of discontent. “You work and work and work!” he cried out in objection. “This is not the man I remember!”
Will allowed himself a small chuckle. “Well, we have grown up a little since then.”
Adam wrinkled his nose. “Ah, you say grow up, but I say you have grown boring,” he said. “This is no way to live, man! Do you even go home to that apartment of yours?”
“Well, it is a crappy apartment,” Will said.
Adam grinned. “And I told you already: I have a spare room.”
Will smiled politely. “I’m just trying to get the job done, Adam. I came to work.”
Adam made a guttural noise in the back of his throat to show his disapproval. “And life is more than work,” he said. “Come!”
Raising his eyebrows, Will gave Adam a once over. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Adam raised his chin in defiance. It might have been intimidating were he not still smiling. “I am not.”
Somehow, the smile just made it harder to reject. “Fine,” Will said. He held up his finger. “One drink.”
Beaming at him, Adam slapped him on the shoulder. “If I remember correctly, all it takes is one for you, Halstead.”
-o-
Adam was exaggerating, but not by much. Will had a few drinks, but he was a bit of a lightweight and the last thing he needed was to lose control of his faculties while still getting his bearings in a new job.
Still, if he was going to go out, then he needed to be out. He had agreed to come, and that meant being a good sport, for Adam’s sake if nothing else.
Except it was just Adam.
It was one of the attending from neurology who liked cocktails. It was the charge nurse who laughed so loud it echoed over the din. It was the radiology tech who had a story for every topic that came up In conversation.
It was all of them, living life, being present. They talked, they laughed, they cursed, they joked. Will didn’t add much, but he was there.
Somehow that mattered.
Because for the first time since coming back to Africa, he was really there. As the new guy, he didn’t have much to add to the conversation, and he couldn’t make out the punchline to every joke, but he listened to the sound of their banter and could not help but join in the sound of their laughter.
He was there, see. Around people living their lives. Not just existing: living.
The distinction was sudden and keen.
It was so intense that he didn’t know what to do with it, so he excused himself early and made his way home alone.
Because existing -- Will understood.
But living?
Will wasn’t sure he was ready yet.