Chicago Med fic: Restitution (5/10)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
Back at his apartment, Will wished he’d had a little more to drink. He had a few beers in his fridge, but he couldn’t bring himself to open one. Instead, he looked at the texts on his phone, answering one from Adam to assure him he’d made it home okay.
There were more messages, and Will skimmed them. The texts from home had lessened over the weeks, but some were persistent. April kept up, almost like clockwork, once a week. Ethan had texted once or twice, but nothing more than a cursory check in. Most of them were from Maggie, who still insisted on texting him multiple times a day. She was so incessant that he’d started to text her back, once or twice a week, replying to the most benign things he could.
Most of the queries about where he was and what happened had stopped by now, which was a relief. Still, he found trying to bridge his past life with this current one easier said than done. And as simple as they sounded, they were hard questions to answer.
How was he?
What was he doing?
When was he coming back?
Will didn’t have a clue, honestly.
Jay had texted as well, and he made a point to answer that one. He had a text from Hailey that he replied to as well, because he decided it was just in good form. Those messages left him spent, and he put the phone aside, sitting on his couch and staring at the alley.
From here, he could see windows of the building across the way. Most of the windows were covered, but he could see a few people milling about. A mother rocking a baby. A couple sitting down to watch TV.
It was happening here, too. Living. People, in every apartment, were living their lives, making their way forward.
And what was Will doing?
He was sitting there, alone. Get up, go to work, come home, Rinse, wash, repeat. Existence was rote performance, and as much as Will invested into his patients, he had nothing to show for it now.
He was just here -- alone.
Will was alone.
He tried to comfort himself with the idea that it was better this way. This way, he couldn’t screw up so much. He couldn’t hurt people, betray them. Alone was how it was supposed to be for him.
Wasn’t it?
He struggled to reconcile the logic with the ache inside. He couldn’t change the fact that he felt like he was on the precipice -- of something more, of something better.
That was the terrifying part. That was why he kept running. That was why he tried to shut himself down.
Because how could he take that plunge? How could he possibly trust himself? How could he ever think that he had a right to be happy after the things he’d done?
Yet, it was a point he found himself struggling with. What was the point of all this, then? Was this penance, after all?
Or was this growing up?
Will would have to decide sooner or later.
But for tonight, he would just sleep, and wish it all away until morning.
-o-
By morning, Will had found his resolve once more. There was no need for temptation. Alone was the only thing he could be trusted with at the moment. That could change -- he wouldn’t say never -- but not today.
But alone was a technicality, one that most people in his life now didn’t seem to appreciate. At all.
The next day, at work, he slunk in, quiet and withdrawn as usual. He tried to go about his morning in relative isolation, but no one seemed ready to let him. They waved at him. They smiled at him. Several people greeted him by name. At the nurse’s station, as he went over his charts for morning rounds, a group of nurses all but ambushed him and started to talk.
Like they were friends or something.
Will wanted to bolt, but he didn’t see an easy way out without appearing rude, so he kept himself as still as possible while the nurses flanked him into what appeared to be normal morning conversation.
“It was good to see you outside the hospital,” one of the nurses told him, sidilng in closer beside him without invitation.
“Yeah,” another rejoined noisily, coming in along Will’s other side with a grin. “I didn’t think you existed outside this facility.”
Will was blushing, for some reason. He felt stupid and conspicuous, but there was nowhere for him to retreat. His options had reduced rapidly to nothing. “Well, I’ve just been getting acclimated.”
“You can’t get acclimated by hiding,” the second told him with an auspicious nudge. “You should come again tonight! There will be karaoke!”
The first rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a patient to see?”
The second glared at her, grabbing her chart. “Whatever. But seriously, Dr. Halstead, come tonight.”
The girl went off to an exam room, and the first nurse scoffed in her wake. “Never mind her, she’s just excitable,” she said with an air of confidence. She glanced at Will. “But it was good to see you, Dr. Halstead.”
“Well, it was good to be out,” Will said. He hesitated, not sure if he should follow up or not. It felt awkward, forced, but he cleared his throat and continued. “Is there really karaoke?”
The nurse looked at him with surprise. “Do you like singing?”
“I dabble a little,” Will said with a shrug.
She looked mildly impressed. “Then, be sure to come,” she suggested before meandering off to a patient of her own. “The mike opens at eight!”
Will watched them go, both with trepidation and relief. He was relieved to finally be free to get to work, but that reprieve was only going to last so long. The invitation was on the table now, and Will had put himself out there, and he didn’t know how to pull back.
This was going to be a long day, he decided.
But, as he chewed his lip, watching the nurses giggle amongst themselves, he thought it might not be long enough.
-o-
As with most days, the work was busy and constant. Will was behind on patients, and his shift was well past over by the time he got to his charts. Buried in paperwork, he thought he had the perfect out, and he was relieved when the nurses passed him by with nothing more than friendly waves.
It was Adam who came to him, staring him down over the top of the paperwork.
Will tried to ignore him, but when Adam didn’t relent, he looked back, eyebrows arched. “Do you need something?”
“I do,” Adam declared. “I need you.”
Will stopped mid-chart. “A patient?”
“Ha!” Adam laughed. “No, just karaoke night.”
Will groaned, picking up his pen again to start back to work. “I’m swamped.”
“And I’m your boss,” Adam declared. “I officially un-swamp you.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Will said.
“Neither do you, acting like this stick in the mud,” Adam said. “You must come!”
“Why?” Will said.
Adam scoffed, as though Will had just asked a ridiculous question. “That is it. You are coming.”
“What? No--”
Will’s jaw dropped open as Adam took the chart from his hand, slamming the files shut and pushing them aside.
“But I’m not done!”
“This is why we increased the budget for residents!” Adam said, reaching down and taking Will by the arm. “They need the valuable experience of paperwork much more than you do.”
Will protested while he was dragged to his feet. “But my patients--”
“Residents!” Adam said again, just as animated.
“But I went out last night,” Will reminded him, in some desperate attempt to get out of this.
“And you liked it,” Adam said.
“I -- what?” Will asked, not sure how to protest without sounding rude or lying.
“You liked it. It is the happiest I have seen you since you have arrived,” Adam said.
“But I didn’t even do anything,” Will said.
“And it still made you happy,” Adam concluded. He patted Will on the shoulder. “We are professionals, yes? But we are also friends. Family!”
Will gave him a wary look. “Adam--”
“It is good!” Adam said, dragging Will away. “It will be very, very good!”
-o-
Will wasn’t sure how good it was, but he didn’t bother to argue with Adam. Even if he could mount a successful argument, he didn’t feel inclined. Adam was his boss, and Adam was the person who had vouched for him with almost no references whatsoever. He wasn’t sure how he’d earned Adam’s good graces, but he wasn’t foolish enough to risk that now.
He still felt anxious about leaving his charts -- it seemed to violate protocol, even with the residents finishing them -- and being back in the bar made him feel out of place. That sense of belonging tried to foist itself on him at every turn, but he resisted.
He had to remember what got him here. He had to keep his mistakes at the forefront of his brain. He couldn’t be the person that he was -- not without risking any future he might actually get to build for himself here.
Friendly, but not friends.
But Adam had called it family.
Med had been family.
And Will had ruined everything.
Caught up in this self realized angst, Will barely finished one drink. He was about to excuse himself for the bathroom and disappear when the mike opened and karaoke night began.
The hubbub might have been an apt distraction were it not distracting everyone in his direction. There was an animated debate going on about who had the best voice, when Adam turned to him and roundly slapped him upside the back.
“But Halstead is an excellent singer!” he said loudly, voice heightened by the alcohol he had consumed. Not drunk, mind you. Just very, very pleasantly tipsy.
Will froze, a little like a deer in the headlights. His heart raced, and he felt his face flush. He smiled in panic, with a small laugh that he barely kept just this side of hysterical.
“No, not really,” he said as demurely as possible.
Adam made a loud noise of objection. “He is! He sings very well!”
“You haven’t heard me sing in more than a decade,” Will reminded him.
“And I still remember it, crystal clear!” Adam said. He turned to the others to make the pronouncement. “He sings like a bird! So good!”
The small crowd murmured their encouragements now, and Adam took him by the elbow and levered him out of his seat.
“No, really,” Will was still protesting, despite Adam dragging him to the stage. “I just sing for fun, mostly at home--”
“Then prove me wrong, Halstead!” Adam said, giving him one last shove onto the stage and into the spotlight. “Prove me wrong!”
And there Will was. Standing on stage in the spotlight, microphone in hand. The song was starting to play, and the lyrics screen came online.
To prove Adam wrong.
To prove Adam right.
To prove himself.
Will took a deep breath, and he started to sing.
-o-
He intended just to sing the one song.
Really, he did.
But the applause was so raucous, and the enthusiasm was so untamed that Will was compelled to do an encore. Then, after much cajoling, he did a duet. After several hours, Will had sung more than five songs while everyone cheered and swooned.
When he finally excused himself -- citing an early morning shift -- everyone looked crestfallen, but Adam saw him out.
“This was a good time,” Adam said, hand on his shoulder. “Yes?”
Will was still flush with adrenaline, and he was already smiling. He had to nod. “Yeah. It really was.”
Adam beamed at him. “See? This place is more than work. This job is more than responsibility. You are family, Halstead.”
He stopped then, looking at Adam uncertainly. “Are you sure? I mean, me -- and you…”
He trailed off, not quite ready to finish the thought.
“Me and you,” Adam said. “Last time, you left too soon, too sudden, but it was a mistake. You are here, now, fixing that. Family is not about being perfect, no. Family is about what you fix.”
Will shook his head, in slight disbelief. “I don’t get you, Adam. Or why you’re so damn good to me.”
“Because many people have left,” he said. “And you are the first one who came back. That counts for something, I think.”
Something, Adam said.
Anything, Will hoped.
Everything, Will wanted.
-o-
That night, Will went home alone.
He sat on the couch, just the same as before.
Except, he felt different. Things weren’t the same as before. This time, somehow, he wasn’t alone.
At this point, he didn’t know what that really meant. It could be the best thing that had happened to him so far. Or it might be the worst.
Will would have to be careful.
Will would have to be very, very careful lest he screw this up like he did everything else in his life.
-o-
Will wasn’t sure about having a social life, but the inevitability of it started to set in. The whole thing snowballed, and there was no feasible way to avoid being friendly with his coworkers. He didn’t go out every time they asked, but he didn’t say no either. It was a balancing act that he was keenly aware he was trying to manage.
The fact of the matter was, despite the time he took up with this newfound social life, it was paying dividends at work. Since spending more time with his coworkers in an unofficial capacity, Will noticed that his language skills were improving at a far more dramatic rate. More than that, the rapport he was establishing was helping him work more efficiently as a doctor. He was able to get more accomplished during the day, and he was able to read the ins and outs of the system to leverage his position and improve patient outcomes.
It wasn’t just productivity, either. People were starting to notice. They were starting to count on him like they hadn’t before. When they needed a consult, he was the first one they asked. When they needed someone to take a second look, they always ran their ideas by him. He wasn’t just another doctor in the ED. He was a critical part of the hospital community.
For all that Will was a capable doctor, the rest of it was quickly leaving him out of his depth. In short, with trips to the bar and karaoke night, Will didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
The most vexing part was that everyone else around him seemed to think he did.
Moreso, the more out of place Will felt, the more others seemed ready to embrace him. Adam had already inexplicably treated him like family -- it had been unjustifiably kind, in Will’s estimation, but he’d been desperate enough to accept Adam’s generosity. When the rest of the staff started following suit, Will didn’t quite know what to do.
They started to make chitchat with him.
They started including him in conversation.
When someone was going out for lunch, they invited him along.
And he got to know them, too. He knew the names of their families. He knew what they liked to do for fun. He knew their favorite lunch orders, and to his utter surprise, they started to return the favor.
It was more friendly now. More casual.
Like this wasn’t just a job.
Like he belonged
He didn’t know how that was possible, but he didn’t know how to undo it either.
-o-
For Will, it was always just one step too far. One line too many blurred. He never knew when to stop.
Self control? Discipline?
It turned out, maybe Will hadn’t changed at all.
-o-
It started innocently enough. A party.
Usually, they hit up the local bar, and Will could come and go as he pleased. He’d grown comfortable with that, and he knew his limits there. There was safety in the familiarity, which is why he’d started to let his guard down.
To make things worse, Adam was the one throwing the party.
A house party at anyone else’s place -- Will probably would have declined. But if Adam was hosting -- and if Adam was inviting him personally -- then he felt almost obliged to attend.
Plus, Adam was giving it the hard sell. “It will be fun!” he said.
“I know,” Will said. “But I don’t know.”
“Everyone will be there!” Adam enthused. “I invited the whole ED and many others from the hospital.”
“Which is a big crowd,” Will said. “I don’t really do so well--”
“Ha, you are a comedian, yes?” Adam said. “You do great in crowds! Life of the party!”
“I was--”
“You are,” Adam corrected him forcefully. “I have seen you. You are still the same man.”
Will tightened his jaw, wishing that wasn’t the problem.
“Plus, my family will be there,” Adam said. “Some cousins, you will like very much. They enjoy your American sports. Oh, and Grace!”
Will felt his heart skip a beat. He’d been trying to politely dissent before, but the mention of Grace’s name made Will want to bolt.
Because Grace was Adam’s sister.
He’d let his attraction to Grace ruin everything he worked for the first time around.
He knew Adam seemed to be over it -- he wouldn’t have hired Will and treated him so well, must less be standing there inviting him to his house -- but that was too easy. Will had been granted so many easy outs in his life, and it had made him complacent. He’d had the audacity to believe that he could lie about the trial and continue helping Natalie and not get fired -- only because he’d gotten away with things every other time.
Accountability mattered. That was what this was about. Accountability.
He had to face real consequences.
Which made Adam’s invitation somewhat ironic.
What better way to face consequences than to actually face them? Adam wanted to forgive Will, and this was his second chance. Maybe it was what he was supposed to do. Go to the party, face Grace and handle it better this time.
That sounded good in theory.
The practical application made Will feel squeamish.
He’d literally left the continent after his last encounter with Grace, but he had no fallback plan now. He swallowed hard and made a face. “Grace? Are you sure?”
“Well, I am not totally sure. You remember Grace. She says many things but she is not always reliable,” Adam said. “But it will be fun! You have not seen her in years! She asks about you!”
The more Adam spoke, the worse Will felt about it. “I don’t know.”
“Come!” Adam said, sounding positively inspired now. He gave Will a discerning look. “Come, or I will put you on duty all weekend.”
“Those are my choices?” Will asked, skeptical. “Work all weekend or go to a house party?”
Adam grinned salaciously. “Yes, those are your choices. So let us see what kind of idiot you are, Halstead.”
Will held up his hands, laughing. “Okay, okay,” he said, giving in now. “I’ll show up.”
“And stay for a few drinks,” Adam insisted.
“A drink,” Will clarified. “But I will be there.”
Adam nodded, as if that was good enough. “Most excellent!” he said. He meandered off, back to work, more chipper than ever.
Will watched him go, hoping they had the same definition of excellent when all this was said and done.
-o-
Will’s interminable self doubt aside, there was still plenty of work to be done between now and then. Adam clearly enjoyed a good party, but Will figured it was a release he was entitled to enjoy. During the week, Adam worked relentlessly. He was still one of the most dedicated physicians Will had ever met, doing more on the front lines than any doctor back home with their cutting edge technology. Sure, medicine progressed in a place like Med, but it flourished here.
It demanded everything, and gave nothing back. No frills, no perks: just saving lives.
This was why he’d started.
It was his hope to finish here, too.
-o-
In this context, Will supposed that cutting loose was just a necessary coping mechanism. Bonding with your coworkers, calling them friends and family, it helped you survive.
This was how it was done. Will had wanted to keep it all separate, but it couldn’t function like that, especially not here.
He could rationalize it all quite well, not even dwelling too much on the fact that he couldn’t tell Adam no. The fact was that this was all quite simple. All Will had to do was his job, and the job entailed life at the hospital -- and beyond.
He would show up for work.
And he would go out afterward.
This weekend, he’d just go to Adam’s as invited. He’d show up along with everyone else and hang out. He’d have a few snacks, drink a beer and be on his way in time to call Jay back home.
This was easy.
Will had things entirely under control.
-o-
Pride went before the fall.
Every.
Single.
Time.
-o-
The worst part about it was that things were going so well. Work was humming along, and Will was taking on more difficult cases than ever. And it was fun, too. With a growing rapport among his workmates, work seemed to go faster. The hard cases weren’t as draining. The long hours didn’t seem shorter, but they were more enjoyable.
Will had come to work.
Adam had convinced him to live, too.
Plus, this weekend, he did have it off -- all of it. He wasn’t pulling an odd shift, he wasn’t covering for anyone, he didn’t have to make up any paperwork. The novelty of that was striking -- it hadn’t happened once since he’d arrived back in Africa.
So maybe he could kick back and relax.
Maybe it would be nice.
That kind of optimism was a dangerous thing for Will, but he’d been lulled into complacency. He showed up to the party all smiles, mixing and mingling with one eye open. He scoured the crowd for any sign of Grace, eating a few snacks as he’d planned while he warily took a head count.
With no sign of her, Will drank his beer and got to know Adam’s cousins. As it turned out, he did like them, and when one of them offered him a second beer, he took them up on it, continuing their vibrant discussion of American football.
Then, he got into a debate about soccer and football, and he accepted his third beer from one of the nurses at work. The debate became a show-and-tell session, and Adam produced a soccer ball that a few staff members impressively worked with their feet, not bouncing it on the ground once.
It was such an impressive feat that Will accepted his fourth drink. As he had nowhere to be in the morning, he stopped keeping track after that. At some point, the music started to blare, and Will was a terrible dancer. He had another drink, though, and didn’t let himself worry about it.
He danced with a few of the nurses, laughing the whole time. One of the other attendings sought him out, and they did some ridiculous dance Will didn’t know and fumbled the whole way through. He was breathless with laughter by the end of it, and when someone else took him by the hand, he didn’t stop to think.
The lights were dark now, and the music was loud. Will was a few drinks too many in, and the woman drew him against him, closer and closer as they bobbed with the beat. Flushed with heat, Will thought to draw back, but the next song started and her lips were against his.
How long had it been?
He could still remember Sabeena’s hair against him as they slept in each morning back in Chicago. Hannah and the way she’d laughed when they held hands on the couch after dinner. And Natalie in her wedding dress, still waiting for him to show up.
How long?
This time, Will did pull back -- because it hadn’t been long enough. The apology was on his lips, but it died before he had a chance to draw his next breath. Because this wasn’t one of the nurses or attendings. This wasn’t one of Adam’s cousins.
It was a bad nightmare, coming back at him like deja vu.
This was--
This was…
“Grace? Is that you?” he asked. He squinted, and blinked, hoping to clear his vision and see something other than the woman in front of him.
That same woman, however, smiled broadly. “Ah! You do recognize me! After all these years, I am so flattered!”
“What?” Will asked. He was just drunk enough to be off his game. His reasoning skills were just slightly delayed, and the shock of this situation was more than he could deal with at the moment. Desperately, he shook his head in a vain attempt to regain his scattered wits. “Grace--”
“I am so flattered,” she said, reaching up and tweaking his nose. “That after all these years, here we are, picking up right where we left off.”
“No,” he said quickly and rapidly shook his head again. “That’s not -- no.”
She was laughing, the music was blaring and the scene was suddenly just too much. It all came rushing back to Will, pouring over him like a flood, and every mistake he’d ever made was pressing against him. He would never finish what he started, because Will was stuck on repeat, now and forever and now and forever.
Grace was still speaking to him -- the crowd was closing in -- and Will couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t keep forcing himself forward. He couldn’t keep going through the motions. Building his career? Growing as a person? It all caved in with a spectacular motion, and Will had to get out of there -- now.
Out of the crowd, away from Grace, away from the party.
On the street, his eyes burned and his heart was pounding in his chest.
Maybe out of Africa.
Hell, maybe out of medicine.
Out of life entirely, at this rate.
-o-
He didn’t totally remember how he got him. He had a vague sense of walking blindly through the streets, tripping over street corners and circling around an unfamiliar neighborhood for awhile. It wasn’t clear what time it was when he got home, but it didn’t really matter. When he got inside, he slammed the door shut behind him, locking the deadbolt with shaking fingers. Gulping for air, he found it wasn’t enough.
He wound up in the bathroom, hitting the floor on his knees while he threw up the contents of his stomach. He threw up again until it burned up his esophagus, the acidic taste lingering in his nostrils even as he collapsed against the toilet seat in exhaustion.
How was this happening? What was even happening? How had he worked so hard and put in so much effort just to end up here? To end up like this?
What was he doing?
What was he going to do?
Was it all hopeless? Was it all pointless? Should he have just quit?
The thoughts gurgled in his stomach, and he found himself heaving again. He ended with a series of dry heaves that left him spent, and this time, he couldn’t even prop himself up on the toilet seat, but slumped to the floor.
Curled up on the bathroom tile, Will was shaking and empty. It wasn’t enough, then. He wasn’t enough.
He’d come halfway around the world, left everything he knew and loved, and still come up invariably, inevitably short in the end.
-o-
Will didn’t exactly remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, he was face to face with the base of his toilet. He was struck by the singular, clear thought that he needed to clean his bathroom more.
Then, as consciousness filtered back to him, he realized there wasn’t much point to it anyway. It wasn’t like he’d been able to clean up any other part of his life. A dirty toilet was probably just par for the course for a guy like him.
A failure.
The thought was so depressing that he almost just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
But sleep was an escape, and escape wasn’t something Will deserved. Now, more than ever.
Miserably, he got up. His back was sore from his uncomfortable position on the ground, curled into the small bathroom space. His knees groaned as he got up, balancing on the vanity until his equilibrium slowly cleared. His mouth was dry and chalky, and he knew that he had to be slightly dehydrated by this point. To prove his hasty diagnosis, his ears were ringing and his head was light.
His hands were trembling as he reached down and turned on the faucet. He let cold water trickle on his hands before cupping his palm and leaning down to lap up a little water. It tasted metallic on his soiled tastebuds, but he kept drinking. The last thing he needed was to pass out on top of everything. He could only imagine Jay’s apoplectic reaction to hearing that Will had passed out on his own in a bathroom in Africa.
Just because he was a pathetic, miserable mess didn’t mean that he had to worry his brother with it. These were his problems. This was his failure. Jay didn’t need to burden himself with it.
When Will had drunk as much water as he could stomach, he splashed some of it on his face. It did little to clear his head, but he supposed the effort symbolized the incontrovertible truth that the day had started and he had no choice but to endure it.
That was why he was here, after all. The face the future, no matter how desolate, no matter how hard, no matter how grim. He had hoped to make forward progress, but that had never been a prerequisite to anything. The mistakes were real. His decisions had consequences. He would acknowledge that, no matter how depressing it was.
And, for the record, it was depressing.
Will all but dragged his feet on his way to the kitchen, and he barely had the motivation to make himself breakfast. He settled for eating cereal straight out of the box, and he had scarcely enough energy to start a pot of coffee. He sat at the table, staring blankly at the back of the cereal box while the coffee brewed. Then, when it was ready, he drank three cups without tasting anything. The caffeine had no effect.
After getting up from the table, Will went back to the bathroom. He found his phone on the floor a short distance away from the toilet. Reluctantly, he checked his texts. He found that he had a string of unopened ones from Adam and other colleagues at the hospital. He couldn’t bring himself to read them.
Instead, he dragged himself to the bedroom, throwing his phone on the bed and resisting the urge to flop down himself. Though he was technically awake, he felt something like a dead man walking. He wasn’t sure what the point was, but staying upright was about the only accomplishment he could hope to make today.
To that end, he got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He left his clothes from the night before crumpled on the floor, trying not to think about the bar, the drinks or Grace.
Of course, as soon as he tried not to, that was all he could think about.
Feeling frustrated with his own stupidity, he kicked the clothes under the bed -- as if that was going to help change what he’d done last night.
And what had he done?
Gotten drunk?
Been too loose?
Let himself live a little too much?
Make out with his best friend’s sister?
Again?
It was nothing he hadn’t done before -- countless times, in fact. In some ways, his malaise seemed like something of an overreaction. It was one night. One drink too many. One kiss.
But it wasn’t, though.
It was the pattern of behavior, the one he had come all this way to break, the one he was falling back into right now, even as he sat miserably in his apartment.
Would he keep running, then? Would he pick up his shallow roots and get the hell out? Would he go someplace different, someplace new? Would he continue running from this person that he was?
Will had spent years running from his first indiscretion with Grace. Last time, he’d done more than kiss her. Last time, he’d spent an entire weekend with Adam’s sister, sleeping with her before realizing just how much of an idiot he was. When he tried to let her down, she had imploded.
Will had imploded, too. He’d taken the first flight out, and mailed in his resignation, skipping out on his last paycheck, too.
He’d come back to fix that mistake, but here he was. He hadn’t changed. He hadn’t grown up. He was still the same idiot. He was always going to be the exact same idiot.
In truth, it made him want to be sick again.
All his hard work, all his effort -- all his sacrifice -- and he was screwing it up. He was blowing it.
Sitting there, hungover and alone in his miserable little apartment, he knew he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t get some magical do-over. There was no way to scrub his actions from existence.
No, he just had to face it.
He just had to endure.
There was no running anymore.
-o-
There was no running, but that didn’t mean Will was facing his consequences with gusto. He sat miserably around his house for all of Saturday -- and all of Sunday for that matter. He continued to get texts from his coworkers -- Adam even called him once -- but Will had turned his phone to silent and stared at it until he went silent.
He would face the consequences -- on Monday. He’d show up to his shift, right on time. Until then…
Well, until then, what?
Until then, Will tried to eat a little food. He made some attempt to clean the dirty bathroom, but his energy for scrubbing left something to be desired. At some point, he fell asleep watching a youtube video on his couch, and he humored Jay with a few texts.
I’m fine. Just a quiet weekend here.
Technically, it was true.
How are the wedding plans? he added.
Jay’s scant reply was enough to remind Will that his brother wasn’t perfect at facing consequences either.
-o-
The weekend felt long, but it still wasn’t long enough. The interminable minutes eventually gave way, and Will found himself dressed and ready for work.
In his mind, he went through several scenarios wherein he apologized to Adam.
None of them sounded right.
He went into work anyway.
-o-
He came into work discreetly, doing his best to avoid talking to anyone. He was mostly successful in this, managing nothing more than a few polite grunts to a few of his colleagues as he retreated to the locker room and putting his things away in his locker. He thought, if only briefly, that maybe this wouldn’t go as badly as he thought it might.
When he closed the locker, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Adam was there.
So maybe this was going to go exactly as badly as he thought it might.
For his part, Adam just looked expectant. “I am relieved to find you in good health.”
Will fixed his lock and moved away from Adam stiffly. “What do you mean?”
“You disappeared from the party quite suddenly,” Adam said, keeping pace with him as they walked to the door. “Very sudden. No goodbyes. I worried that you had taken ill. Surely that is the only explanation for such rude behavior.”
Will reddened and came to a stop to face his friend. “Adam, look--”
Adam held up his hand. “This is not an ambush,” he said. He let his hand drift as he shrugged. “I am merely concerned. For if you are not ill, then there must be some other reason for such behavior.”
Will exhaled because if he was going to see this through, then this wasn’t a conversation he could avoid. He’d ran away from the program years ago just to avoid this, and if this was his second chance, then he had no choice but to take it. To finish something, as Jay would say. For once in his life. “Adam -- I just,” he fumbled, knitting his brows together. He shook his head, and blurted it. “Grace was there.”
Adam looked at him like he might be crazy. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I was the one who told you that.”
“Yeah, but it was Grace,” Will said. His stomach felt tight, and he glanced around self consciously as he lowered his voice. “I kissed her. I didn’t mean to, but it happened, and I didn’t want to tell you.”
At that, Adam laughed out loud. “Yes, I saw that,” he said. He gave Will a bemused look. “But when I saw it, it looked much more like she kissed you.”
Adam might think it was a joke, but Will was not in a laughing mood. He was here to work. He was here to rebuild his life. He was here to prove himself.
Sleeping with his best friend’s sister wasn’t part of the package this time around. “I made that mistake already, and I don’t intend to do it again. Not to you -- not to Grace,” he said with a resolute nod. “I won’t.”
As serious as Will was being, Adam seemed somehow vexed. “You are not listening to me,” he said. “What mistake are you talking about? You did nothing the first time around.”
Will shook his head, ever adamant. He had to keep to the script on this. If he didn’t, then the whole thing would fall apart. He would fall apart. “No,” he said, and he started to push past Adam to the door. “I’ll give you and Grace some space.”
Adam caught him by the arm, turning him back around. “Halstead, please!” he said. “You told me before you felt bad for sleeping with Grace, but I did not believe you felt this badly. Are you to tell me this is really why you left? Because of Grace?”
Will hesitated, not sure what to say. “I left because I broke her heart -- and violated your trust.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up. “You ran all the way back to America just because you were embarrassed that you slept with my sister?”
Will hesitated again. He could feel his heart in his chest, and he was keenly aware of the people passing around them now.
“I thought you were exaggerating! I thought it was an excuse!” Adam said with a guffaw. “Halstead, this is most ridiculous! I told you all along that my sister is crazy!”
“All the more reason we should just stay apart--”
“All the more reason to talk to her, just like you are talking to me now,” Adam said with slow emphasis on the words. Adam lifted one shoulder. “I mean, yes, she is crazy, but she is not a demon. Nor is she some damsel in distress. Talk to her, and she will see that you are not like so many of my other friends. You are a shy one.”
“I’m not shy,” Will retorted pointlessly. He tipped his head to the side curiously. “And she’s hit on your other friends?”
“All of them,” Adam said flatly. “Most of them sleep with her, too. She cries when they realize she is crazy as well.”
Adam was speaking rather sensibly, and Will struggled with the meaning. On the one hand, it was something of an absolution. On the other, he felt a little ridiculous. He had literally torched his first career in Africa over this -- over nothing. Adam might be trying to make him feel better, but if what he was saying about Grace were true--
Well, then Will had badly misjudged the situation.
He’d been so keen to run away from his mistakes that he hadn’t stopped to think if he was making them at all.
“She’s really crazy?” Will asked.
Adam chuckled. “In the best way. I love her, my sister, I do,” he said. “But she is strong willed, full of adventure. She wants to try everything, every experience, every place, every man. She is very much her own woman, and she does not need my protection or yours unless she asks for it.”
Will remembered how to breathe again, but somehow, he felt even stupider than before. “You’re being serious with me?”
“Halstead, yes!” Adam said firmly. “How many times must I tell you this? Come on, man! When a lesson is taught, there is no shame. However, you must learn it.”
At this point, Will should have been used to it: feeling stupid and feeling embarrassed. It just hadn’t occurred to him that, for all the things he was good at, facing his mistakes just wasn’t one of them. His instinct was to run, but here he was, feet planted firmly on the ground. This time, there was no ultimatum. This time, it was forgiveness.
“Okay,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet Adam’s once more. “I shouldn’t have run out like that. I’m sorry. Is there a way to talk to Grace later?”
“Is there a way for you to avoid Grace?” Adam joked. “Come out with me tonight.”
Will immediately started hedging, feeling the anxiety swell up reflexively in his chest.
Adam quickly continued. “Just one drink -- I promise,” he said. “And she will find you herself.”
For all that he wanted to say no, Will knew he had no grounds to. Adam’s proposal wasn’t mean or cruel. It wasn’t even unreasonable.
Plus, if he was trying to right a wrong, then he had to go along with it. For Adam’s sake -- and for Grace’s. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you after work.”
Adam smiled, almost as if in relief. “Very good,” he said. “I think we can resolve this very nicely, then.”
-o-
Adam was confident, which was something.
Adam was always confident, though. It was one of his defining character traits.
Will, however, was not -- which was the main thing.
The sense of belonging that he had built up over the last few weeks had suddenly dissipated in a single weekend. Before, he used to feel welcome to the idle chitchat around the ED. Now, he felt like the source of it. He knew that was somewhat irrational -- as if people didn’t have better things to think about than his pathetic ass -- but it was hard to shake.
As a matter of precaution, he kept to himself that day, eating by himself and avoiding others. He wasn’t sure who he was protecting exactly, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he got through the day without embarrassing himself further or accidentally hurting someone.
When his shift was over, he thought about sneaking out -- his promise to Adam be damned. Then, he considered signing on to work late, which might be a viable option if Adam were not his boss and in charge of the ED schedule. As it was, he had gotten himself into this mess.
Now, after more than a decade of putting it off, he finally needed to face it and own up to his shortcomings.
Adam acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, and Will couldn’t decide if his friend’s nonchalance made him feel better or worse about the situation. By the time they got to the bar, Will felt physically ill -- and he thought he might have to excuse himself for real as Adam got them a table in the back corner by the wall. Adam then took the liberty of ordering a pair of drinks, and Will stared at his beer, not sure what he was supposed to do with it.
Then, Adam looked up and waved at someone behind him. Will didn’t dare look, and he wanted to disappear into the seat.
“Don’t worry, Halstead,” Adam told him, patting him on the shoulder as he got up. “I will be right over at the bar.”
“I promise you I won’t do anything,” he said solemnly.
Adam’s look was funny. “You? I am worried about her. You must learn to protect yourself, man!”
It was pretty clear Adam wasn’t kidding.
Will didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.
It didn’t matter. As Adam vacated the table, Grace approached with a cocktail in hand. She winked at Adam, who glared at her. “Be nice,” he warned.
Grace smiled warmly. “I am always nice,” she said, sidling past her brother and coming for the chair across from Will. She stood for a moment, dark hair in tight curls against her head with red lips and deep green eyeshadow on her dark skin. She had large hoop earrings, and she paused for a moment, looking Will up and down. “Am I not nice, Will?”
The question felt like a proposition, and Will sat back tightly, pulling in on himself desperately. “Grace. It’s, uh, good to see you.”
She sat down, putting her drink down in front of her with some amount of pomp. “You saw me last night.”
“I know,” Will said. He sat back, pulling as far away from her as he could while still physically occupying the same table. “But I didn’t recognize you. Not at first.”
Grace took a slow sip, and she nodded. “So you have come to be a gentleman?”
“Um, yes?” Will said, trying and failing to find a relevant train of thought that might actually resolve this disaster of a situation. “Adam thought we should talk.”
“Whatever my brother has told you, it is true,” Grace announced. She preened a little once more, fiddling with the straw in her drink. Her lips turned up salaciously. “If anything, I am confident that he has sold me short.”
Will wasn’t sure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what to make of any of this. “Um, Grace,” he said, posturing with a failed intent to diffuse a situation he wasn’t even sure he understood at this point. “I just thought we should talk.”
She sat back, looking somewhat disappointed. “Talking like that; it is never the kind of talk that I want,” she said. Then, she regarded him with a cool eye. “Though I do prefer action to talk.”
Will cleared his throat, not sure if the insinuation was meant to make as absolutely uncomfortable as he was. “Look, Grace. You’re a very nice woman--”
Her face turned up in immediate revulsion. “You insult me now!”
Will’s mouth dropped open and he attempted to salvage an already floundering situation. “I mean, you’re beautiful,” he fumbled. “And attractive and energetic.”
Her eyes were narrowed at him, her lips pursed.
He frantically continued. “Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
Her coolness mellowed just slightly, but she still looked inherently skeptical.
“So I never intended to mislead you -- not now or before,” he said. “It’s just -- the thing is -- I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”
She inhaled sharply, recoiling as if he might have hit her.
Which he didn’t.
At all.
If anything, he was trying desperately to keep his distance.
“But you kissed me!” she objected, ever more strident in her conviction.
He held up his hands. To placate her, maybe. To defend himself, possibly, if it came to that. “I had a few too many drinks. It had been years since we’d last seen each other--”
Her eyes are flashing hot. “So you kiss lots of strange women in crowded bars?”
“As a general rule, no,” he said. “But--”
She scoffed loudly, cutting him off. “That is your problem!” she said. “I knew if I left it to you, you would never make a move. You used to have adventure, but you have grown soft in America.”
Will stopped, trying to process what she was saying. “So, you--”
She rolled her eyes in ready exasperation. “Took the initiative for you, of course!” she said. “Just like before. You were more carefree back then, but still. Such drama over my brother’s sake. Adam said I should leave you alone. That you took it badly last time. I thought he was exaggerating!”
Will was still floundering now. “Took it badly?”
“Yes, yes,” she said readily, as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. “He said you took my show badly. So serious!”
“Well, you were crying and begging--”
“Yes! My show!” she said, her tone almost indignant that she had to explain herself. “I am quite good at it, you know.”
Will blinked now, trying to make it parse. “But -- I thought I’d broken your heart. It was -- a show?”
“Yes!” she said. “I have put it on many times. I just wanted to win you back. I thought crying would help. It usually does.”
That was a lot of information. The revelation was told to him plaintively, but it told such a different story than the one he remembered that he hardly knew how to comprehend. “You--” he started and failed to make the thought materialize. “What?”
Her smile widened. “William, I like the drama,” she said buoyantly. Her eyes were sparkling. “And I like your red hair very much. It made me sad to quit. It still does.”
That was not a turn he had come prepared for. From his apologies, he was starting to feel vaguely used. He might be offended had he not spent that last 15 years thinking he was the offensive one. “I -- uh--”
Grace scoffed, making a wide gesture that was far too dramatic. “Oh, you are as silly as Adam says!” she proclaims, her voice lilting in her typical singsong fashion. She grinned at him lavaciously and winked. “Funny, it just makes me like you more.”
The more overt she became, the more Will tried to retreat. Tried -- and failed. “Grace, I promise you, I am not good in relationships. This would never work.”
She made a loud, dismissive noise. “And I am worse!” she crowed contentedly. “Are you sure you do not wish to try?”
Will withdrew another inch, and he nodded rapidly. “Very sure. I’m very sure.”
Her face creased with obvious disappointment, but she did not approach him further. “Very well. I will leave you be, my ginger boy,” she said, cooing a little at him. She winked again, pausing to waggle her eyebrows. “But if you change your mind, you will be able to find me.”
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
Back at his apartment, Will wished he’d had a little more to drink. He had a few beers in his fridge, but he couldn’t bring himself to open one. Instead, he looked at the texts on his phone, answering one from Adam to assure him he’d made it home okay.
There were more messages, and Will skimmed them. The texts from home had lessened over the weeks, but some were persistent. April kept up, almost like clockwork, once a week. Ethan had texted once or twice, but nothing more than a cursory check in. Most of them were from Maggie, who still insisted on texting him multiple times a day. She was so incessant that he’d started to text her back, once or twice a week, replying to the most benign things he could.
Most of the queries about where he was and what happened had stopped by now, which was a relief. Still, he found trying to bridge his past life with this current one easier said than done. And as simple as they sounded, they were hard questions to answer.
How was he?
What was he doing?
When was he coming back?
Will didn’t have a clue, honestly.
Jay had texted as well, and he made a point to answer that one. He had a text from Hailey that he replied to as well, because he decided it was just in good form. Those messages left him spent, and he put the phone aside, sitting on his couch and staring at the alley.
From here, he could see windows of the building across the way. Most of the windows were covered, but he could see a few people milling about. A mother rocking a baby. A couple sitting down to watch TV.
It was happening here, too. Living. People, in every apartment, were living their lives, making their way forward.
And what was Will doing?
He was sitting there, alone. Get up, go to work, come home, Rinse, wash, repeat. Existence was rote performance, and as much as Will invested into his patients, he had nothing to show for it now.
He was just here -- alone.
Will was alone.
He tried to comfort himself with the idea that it was better this way. This way, he couldn’t screw up so much. He couldn’t hurt people, betray them. Alone was how it was supposed to be for him.
Wasn’t it?
He struggled to reconcile the logic with the ache inside. He couldn’t change the fact that he felt like he was on the precipice -- of something more, of something better.
That was the terrifying part. That was why he kept running. That was why he tried to shut himself down.
Because how could he take that plunge? How could he possibly trust himself? How could he ever think that he had a right to be happy after the things he’d done?
Yet, it was a point he found himself struggling with. What was the point of all this, then? Was this penance, after all?
Or was this growing up?
Will would have to decide sooner or later.
But for tonight, he would just sleep, and wish it all away until morning.
-o-
By morning, Will had found his resolve once more. There was no need for temptation. Alone was the only thing he could be trusted with at the moment. That could change -- he wouldn’t say never -- but not today.
But alone was a technicality, one that most people in his life now didn’t seem to appreciate. At all.
The next day, at work, he slunk in, quiet and withdrawn as usual. He tried to go about his morning in relative isolation, but no one seemed ready to let him. They waved at him. They smiled at him. Several people greeted him by name. At the nurse’s station, as he went over his charts for morning rounds, a group of nurses all but ambushed him and started to talk.
Like they were friends or something.
Will wanted to bolt, but he didn’t see an easy way out without appearing rude, so he kept himself as still as possible while the nurses flanked him into what appeared to be normal morning conversation.
“It was good to see you outside the hospital,” one of the nurses told him, sidilng in closer beside him without invitation.
“Yeah,” another rejoined noisily, coming in along Will’s other side with a grin. “I didn’t think you existed outside this facility.”
Will was blushing, for some reason. He felt stupid and conspicuous, but there was nowhere for him to retreat. His options had reduced rapidly to nothing. “Well, I’ve just been getting acclimated.”
“You can’t get acclimated by hiding,” the second told him with an auspicious nudge. “You should come again tonight! There will be karaoke!”
The first rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a patient to see?”
The second glared at her, grabbing her chart. “Whatever. But seriously, Dr. Halstead, come tonight.”
The girl went off to an exam room, and the first nurse scoffed in her wake. “Never mind her, she’s just excitable,” she said with an air of confidence. She glanced at Will. “But it was good to see you, Dr. Halstead.”
“Well, it was good to be out,” Will said. He hesitated, not sure if he should follow up or not. It felt awkward, forced, but he cleared his throat and continued. “Is there really karaoke?”
The nurse looked at him with surprise. “Do you like singing?”
“I dabble a little,” Will said with a shrug.
She looked mildly impressed. “Then, be sure to come,” she suggested before meandering off to a patient of her own. “The mike opens at eight!”
Will watched them go, both with trepidation and relief. He was relieved to finally be free to get to work, but that reprieve was only going to last so long. The invitation was on the table now, and Will had put himself out there, and he didn’t know how to pull back.
This was going to be a long day, he decided.
But, as he chewed his lip, watching the nurses giggle amongst themselves, he thought it might not be long enough.
-o-
As with most days, the work was busy and constant. Will was behind on patients, and his shift was well past over by the time he got to his charts. Buried in paperwork, he thought he had the perfect out, and he was relieved when the nurses passed him by with nothing more than friendly waves.
It was Adam who came to him, staring him down over the top of the paperwork.
Will tried to ignore him, but when Adam didn’t relent, he looked back, eyebrows arched. “Do you need something?”
“I do,” Adam declared. “I need you.”
Will stopped mid-chart. “A patient?”
“Ha!” Adam laughed. “No, just karaoke night.”
Will groaned, picking up his pen again to start back to work. “I’m swamped.”
“And I’m your boss,” Adam declared. “I officially un-swamp you.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Will said.
“Neither do you, acting like this stick in the mud,” Adam said. “You must come!”
“Why?” Will said.
Adam scoffed, as though Will had just asked a ridiculous question. “That is it. You are coming.”
“What? No--”
Will’s jaw dropped open as Adam took the chart from his hand, slamming the files shut and pushing them aside.
“But I’m not done!”
“This is why we increased the budget for residents!” Adam said, reaching down and taking Will by the arm. “They need the valuable experience of paperwork much more than you do.”
Will protested while he was dragged to his feet. “But my patients--”
“Residents!” Adam said again, just as animated.
“But I went out last night,” Will reminded him, in some desperate attempt to get out of this.
“And you liked it,” Adam said.
“I -- what?” Will asked, not sure how to protest without sounding rude or lying.
“You liked it. It is the happiest I have seen you since you have arrived,” Adam said.
“But I didn’t even do anything,” Will said.
“And it still made you happy,” Adam concluded. He patted Will on the shoulder. “We are professionals, yes? But we are also friends. Family!”
Will gave him a wary look. “Adam--”
“It is good!” Adam said, dragging Will away. “It will be very, very good!”
-o-
Will wasn’t sure how good it was, but he didn’t bother to argue with Adam. Even if he could mount a successful argument, he didn’t feel inclined. Adam was his boss, and Adam was the person who had vouched for him with almost no references whatsoever. He wasn’t sure how he’d earned Adam’s good graces, but he wasn’t foolish enough to risk that now.
He still felt anxious about leaving his charts -- it seemed to violate protocol, even with the residents finishing them -- and being back in the bar made him feel out of place. That sense of belonging tried to foist itself on him at every turn, but he resisted.
He had to remember what got him here. He had to keep his mistakes at the forefront of his brain. He couldn’t be the person that he was -- not without risking any future he might actually get to build for himself here.
Friendly, but not friends.
But Adam had called it family.
Med had been family.
And Will had ruined everything.
Caught up in this self realized angst, Will barely finished one drink. He was about to excuse himself for the bathroom and disappear when the mike opened and karaoke night began.
The hubbub might have been an apt distraction were it not distracting everyone in his direction. There was an animated debate going on about who had the best voice, when Adam turned to him and roundly slapped him upside the back.
“But Halstead is an excellent singer!” he said loudly, voice heightened by the alcohol he had consumed. Not drunk, mind you. Just very, very pleasantly tipsy.
Will froze, a little like a deer in the headlights. His heart raced, and he felt his face flush. He smiled in panic, with a small laugh that he barely kept just this side of hysterical.
“No, not really,” he said as demurely as possible.
Adam made a loud noise of objection. “He is! He sings very well!”
“You haven’t heard me sing in more than a decade,” Will reminded him.
“And I still remember it, crystal clear!” Adam said. He turned to the others to make the pronouncement. “He sings like a bird! So good!”
The small crowd murmured their encouragements now, and Adam took him by the elbow and levered him out of his seat.
“No, really,” Will was still protesting, despite Adam dragging him to the stage. “I just sing for fun, mostly at home--”
“Then prove me wrong, Halstead!” Adam said, giving him one last shove onto the stage and into the spotlight. “Prove me wrong!”
And there Will was. Standing on stage in the spotlight, microphone in hand. The song was starting to play, and the lyrics screen came online.
To prove Adam wrong.
To prove Adam right.
To prove himself.
Will took a deep breath, and he started to sing.
-o-
He intended just to sing the one song.
Really, he did.
But the applause was so raucous, and the enthusiasm was so untamed that Will was compelled to do an encore. Then, after much cajoling, he did a duet. After several hours, Will had sung more than five songs while everyone cheered and swooned.
When he finally excused himself -- citing an early morning shift -- everyone looked crestfallen, but Adam saw him out.
“This was a good time,” Adam said, hand on his shoulder. “Yes?”
Will was still flush with adrenaline, and he was already smiling. He had to nod. “Yeah. It really was.”
Adam beamed at him. “See? This place is more than work. This job is more than responsibility. You are family, Halstead.”
He stopped then, looking at Adam uncertainly. “Are you sure? I mean, me -- and you…”
He trailed off, not quite ready to finish the thought.
“Me and you,” Adam said. “Last time, you left too soon, too sudden, but it was a mistake. You are here, now, fixing that. Family is not about being perfect, no. Family is about what you fix.”
Will shook his head, in slight disbelief. “I don’t get you, Adam. Or why you’re so damn good to me.”
“Because many people have left,” he said. “And you are the first one who came back. That counts for something, I think.”
Something, Adam said.
Anything, Will hoped.
Everything, Will wanted.
-o-
That night, Will went home alone.
He sat on the couch, just the same as before.
Except, he felt different. Things weren’t the same as before. This time, somehow, he wasn’t alone.
At this point, he didn’t know what that really meant. It could be the best thing that had happened to him so far. Or it might be the worst.
Will would have to be careful.
Will would have to be very, very careful lest he screw this up like he did everything else in his life.
-o-
Will wasn’t sure about having a social life, but the inevitability of it started to set in. The whole thing snowballed, and there was no feasible way to avoid being friendly with his coworkers. He didn’t go out every time they asked, but he didn’t say no either. It was a balancing act that he was keenly aware he was trying to manage.
The fact of the matter was, despite the time he took up with this newfound social life, it was paying dividends at work. Since spending more time with his coworkers in an unofficial capacity, Will noticed that his language skills were improving at a far more dramatic rate. More than that, the rapport he was establishing was helping him work more efficiently as a doctor. He was able to get more accomplished during the day, and he was able to read the ins and outs of the system to leverage his position and improve patient outcomes.
It wasn’t just productivity, either. People were starting to notice. They were starting to count on him like they hadn’t before. When they needed a consult, he was the first one they asked. When they needed someone to take a second look, they always ran their ideas by him. He wasn’t just another doctor in the ED. He was a critical part of the hospital community.
For all that Will was a capable doctor, the rest of it was quickly leaving him out of his depth. In short, with trips to the bar and karaoke night, Will didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
The most vexing part was that everyone else around him seemed to think he did.
Moreso, the more out of place Will felt, the more others seemed ready to embrace him. Adam had already inexplicably treated him like family -- it had been unjustifiably kind, in Will’s estimation, but he’d been desperate enough to accept Adam’s generosity. When the rest of the staff started following suit, Will didn’t quite know what to do.
They started to make chitchat with him.
They started including him in conversation.
When someone was going out for lunch, they invited him along.
And he got to know them, too. He knew the names of their families. He knew what they liked to do for fun. He knew their favorite lunch orders, and to his utter surprise, they started to return the favor.
It was more friendly now. More casual.
Like this wasn’t just a job.
Like he belonged
He didn’t know how that was possible, but he didn’t know how to undo it either.
-o-
For Will, it was always just one step too far. One line too many blurred. He never knew when to stop.
Self control? Discipline?
It turned out, maybe Will hadn’t changed at all.
-o-
It started innocently enough. A party.
Usually, they hit up the local bar, and Will could come and go as he pleased. He’d grown comfortable with that, and he knew his limits there. There was safety in the familiarity, which is why he’d started to let his guard down.
To make things worse, Adam was the one throwing the party.
A house party at anyone else’s place -- Will probably would have declined. But if Adam was hosting -- and if Adam was inviting him personally -- then he felt almost obliged to attend.
Plus, Adam was giving it the hard sell. “It will be fun!” he said.
“I know,” Will said. “But I don’t know.”
“Everyone will be there!” Adam enthused. “I invited the whole ED and many others from the hospital.”
“Which is a big crowd,” Will said. “I don’t really do so well--”
“Ha, you are a comedian, yes?” Adam said. “You do great in crowds! Life of the party!”
“I was--”
“You are,” Adam corrected him forcefully. “I have seen you. You are still the same man.”
Will tightened his jaw, wishing that wasn’t the problem.
“Plus, my family will be there,” Adam said. “Some cousins, you will like very much. They enjoy your American sports. Oh, and Grace!”
Will felt his heart skip a beat. He’d been trying to politely dissent before, but the mention of Grace’s name made Will want to bolt.
Because Grace was Adam’s sister.
He’d let his attraction to Grace ruin everything he worked for the first time around.
He knew Adam seemed to be over it -- he wouldn’t have hired Will and treated him so well, must less be standing there inviting him to his house -- but that was too easy. Will had been granted so many easy outs in his life, and it had made him complacent. He’d had the audacity to believe that he could lie about the trial and continue helping Natalie and not get fired -- only because he’d gotten away with things every other time.
Accountability mattered. That was what this was about. Accountability.
He had to face real consequences.
Which made Adam’s invitation somewhat ironic.
What better way to face consequences than to actually face them? Adam wanted to forgive Will, and this was his second chance. Maybe it was what he was supposed to do. Go to the party, face Grace and handle it better this time.
That sounded good in theory.
The practical application made Will feel squeamish.
He’d literally left the continent after his last encounter with Grace, but he had no fallback plan now. He swallowed hard and made a face. “Grace? Are you sure?”
“Well, I am not totally sure. You remember Grace. She says many things but she is not always reliable,” Adam said. “But it will be fun! You have not seen her in years! She asks about you!”
The more Adam spoke, the worse Will felt about it. “I don’t know.”
“Come!” Adam said, sounding positively inspired now. He gave Will a discerning look. “Come, or I will put you on duty all weekend.”
“Those are my choices?” Will asked, skeptical. “Work all weekend or go to a house party?”
Adam grinned salaciously. “Yes, those are your choices. So let us see what kind of idiot you are, Halstead.”
Will held up his hands, laughing. “Okay, okay,” he said, giving in now. “I’ll show up.”
“And stay for a few drinks,” Adam insisted.
“A drink,” Will clarified. “But I will be there.”
Adam nodded, as if that was good enough. “Most excellent!” he said. He meandered off, back to work, more chipper than ever.
Will watched him go, hoping they had the same definition of excellent when all this was said and done.
-o-
Will’s interminable self doubt aside, there was still plenty of work to be done between now and then. Adam clearly enjoyed a good party, but Will figured it was a release he was entitled to enjoy. During the week, Adam worked relentlessly. He was still one of the most dedicated physicians Will had ever met, doing more on the front lines than any doctor back home with their cutting edge technology. Sure, medicine progressed in a place like Med, but it flourished here.
It demanded everything, and gave nothing back. No frills, no perks: just saving lives.
This was why he’d started.
It was his hope to finish here, too.
-o-
In this context, Will supposed that cutting loose was just a necessary coping mechanism. Bonding with your coworkers, calling them friends and family, it helped you survive.
This was how it was done. Will had wanted to keep it all separate, but it couldn’t function like that, especially not here.
He could rationalize it all quite well, not even dwelling too much on the fact that he couldn’t tell Adam no. The fact was that this was all quite simple. All Will had to do was his job, and the job entailed life at the hospital -- and beyond.
He would show up for work.
And he would go out afterward.
This weekend, he’d just go to Adam’s as invited. He’d show up along with everyone else and hang out. He’d have a few snacks, drink a beer and be on his way in time to call Jay back home.
This was easy.
Will had things entirely under control.
-o-
Pride went before the fall.
Every.
Single.
Time.
-o-
The worst part about it was that things were going so well. Work was humming along, and Will was taking on more difficult cases than ever. And it was fun, too. With a growing rapport among his workmates, work seemed to go faster. The hard cases weren’t as draining. The long hours didn’t seem shorter, but they were more enjoyable.
Will had come to work.
Adam had convinced him to live, too.
Plus, this weekend, he did have it off -- all of it. He wasn’t pulling an odd shift, he wasn’t covering for anyone, he didn’t have to make up any paperwork. The novelty of that was striking -- it hadn’t happened once since he’d arrived back in Africa.
So maybe he could kick back and relax.
Maybe it would be nice.
That kind of optimism was a dangerous thing for Will, but he’d been lulled into complacency. He showed up to the party all smiles, mixing and mingling with one eye open. He scoured the crowd for any sign of Grace, eating a few snacks as he’d planned while he warily took a head count.
With no sign of her, Will drank his beer and got to know Adam’s cousins. As it turned out, he did like them, and when one of them offered him a second beer, he took them up on it, continuing their vibrant discussion of American football.
Then, he got into a debate about soccer and football, and he accepted his third beer from one of the nurses at work. The debate became a show-and-tell session, and Adam produced a soccer ball that a few staff members impressively worked with their feet, not bouncing it on the ground once.
It was such an impressive feat that Will accepted his fourth drink. As he had nowhere to be in the morning, he stopped keeping track after that. At some point, the music started to blare, and Will was a terrible dancer. He had another drink, though, and didn’t let himself worry about it.
He danced with a few of the nurses, laughing the whole time. One of the other attendings sought him out, and they did some ridiculous dance Will didn’t know and fumbled the whole way through. He was breathless with laughter by the end of it, and when someone else took him by the hand, he didn’t stop to think.
The lights were dark now, and the music was loud. Will was a few drinks too many in, and the woman drew him against him, closer and closer as they bobbed with the beat. Flushed with heat, Will thought to draw back, but the next song started and her lips were against his.
How long had it been?
He could still remember Sabeena’s hair against him as they slept in each morning back in Chicago. Hannah and the way she’d laughed when they held hands on the couch after dinner. And Natalie in her wedding dress, still waiting for him to show up.
How long?
This time, Will did pull back -- because it hadn’t been long enough. The apology was on his lips, but it died before he had a chance to draw his next breath. Because this wasn’t one of the nurses or attendings. This wasn’t one of Adam’s cousins.
It was a bad nightmare, coming back at him like deja vu.
This was--
This was…
“Grace? Is that you?” he asked. He squinted, and blinked, hoping to clear his vision and see something other than the woman in front of him.
That same woman, however, smiled broadly. “Ah! You do recognize me! After all these years, I am so flattered!”
“What?” Will asked. He was just drunk enough to be off his game. His reasoning skills were just slightly delayed, and the shock of this situation was more than he could deal with at the moment. Desperately, he shook his head in a vain attempt to regain his scattered wits. “Grace--”
“I am so flattered,” she said, reaching up and tweaking his nose. “That after all these years, here we are, picking up right where we left off.”
“No,” he said quickly and rapidly shook his head again. “That’s not -- no.”
She was laughing, the music was blaring and the scene was suddenly just too much. It all came rushing back to Will, pouring over him like a flood, and every mistake he’d ever made was pressing against him. He would never finish what he started, because Will was stuck on repeat, now and forever and now and forever.
Grace was still speaking to him -- the crowd was closing in -- and Will couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t keep forcing himself forward. He couldn’t keep going through the motions. Building his career? Growing as a person? It all caved in with a spectacular motion, and Will had to get out of there -- now.
Out of the crowd, away from Grace, away from the party.
On the street, his eyes burned and his heart was pounding in his chest.
Maybe out of Africa.
Hell, maybe out of medicine.
Out of life entirely, at this rate.
-o-
He didn’t totally remember how he got him. He had a vague sense of walking blindly through the streets, tripping over street corners and circling around an unfamiliar neighborhood for awhile. It wasn’t clear what time it was when he got home, but it didn’t really matter. When he got inside, he slammed the door shut behind him, locking the deadbolt with shaking fingers. Gulping for air, he found it wasn’t enough.
He wound up in the bathroom, hitting the floor on his knees while he threw up the contents of his stomach. He threw up again until it burned up his esophagus, the acidic taste lingering in his nostrils even as he collapsed against the toilet seat in exhaustion.
How was this happening? What was even happening? How had he worked so hard and put in so much effort just to end up here? To end up like this?
What was he doing?
What was he going to do?
Was it all hopeless? Was it all pointless? Should he have just quit?
The thoughts gurgled in his stomach, and he found himself heaving again. He ended with a series of dry heaves that left him spent, and this time, he couldn’t even prop himself up on the toilet seat, but slumped to the floor.
Curled up on the bathroom tile, Will was shaking and empty. It wasn’t enough, then. He wasn’t enough.
He’d come halfway around the world, left everything he knew and loved, and still come up invariably, inevitably short in the end.
-o-
Will didn’t exactly remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, he was face to face with the base of his toilet. He was struck by the singular, clear thought that he needed to clean his bathroom more.
Then, as consciousness filtered back to him, he realized there wasn’t much point to it anyway. It wasn’t like he’d been able to clean up any other part of his life. A dirty toilet was probably just par for the course for a guy like him.
A failure.
The thought was so depressing that he almost just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
But sleep was an escape, and escape wasn’t something Will deserved. Now, more than ever.
Miserably, he got up. His back was sore from his uncomfortable position on the ground, curled into the small bathroom space. His knees groaned as he got up, balancing on the vanity until his equilibrium slowly cleared. His mouth was dry and chalky, and he knew that he had to be slightly dehydrated by this point. To prove his hasty diagnosis, his ears were ringing and his head was light.
His hands were trembling as he reached down and turned on the faucet. He let cold water trickle on his hands before cupping his palm and leaning down to lap up a little water. It tasted metallic on his soiled tastebuds, but he kept drinking. The last thing he needed was to pass out on top of everything. He could only imagine Jay’s apoplectic reaction to hearing that Will had passed out on his own in a bathroom in Africa.
Just because he was a pathetic, miserable mess didn’t mean that he had to worry his brother with it. These were his problems. This was his failure. Jay didn’t need to burden himself with it.
When Will had drunk as much water as he could stomach, he splashed some of it on his face. It did little to clear his head, but he supposed the effort symbolized the incontrovertible truth that the day had started and he had no choice but to endure it.
That was why he was here, after all. The face the future, no matter how desolate, no matter how hard, no matter how grim. He had hoped to make forward progress, but that had never been a prerequisite to anything. The mistakes were real. His decisions had consequences. He would acknowledge that, no matter how depressing it was.
And, for the record, it was depressing.
Will all but dragged his feet on his way to the kitchen, and he barely had the motivation to make himself breakfast. He settled for eating cereal straight out of the box, and he had scarcely enough energy to start a pot of coffee. He sat at the table, staring blankly at the back of the cereal box while the coffee brewed. Then, when it was ready, he drank three cups without tasting anything. The caffeine had no effect.
After getting up from the table, Will went back to the bathroom. He found his phone on the floor a short distance away from the toilet. Reluctantly, he checked his texts. He found that he had a string of unopened ones from Adam and other colleagues at the hospital. He couldn’t bring himself to read them.
Instead, he dragged himself to the bedroom, throwing his phone on the bed and resisting the urge to flop down himself. Though he was technically awake, he felt something like a dead man walking. He wasn’t sure what the point was, but staying upright was about the only accomplishment he could hope to make today.
To that end, he got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He left his clothes from the night before crumpled on the floor, trying not to think about the bar, the drinks or Grace.
Of course, as soon as he tried not to, that was all he could think about.
Feeling frustrated with his own stupidity, he kicked the clothes under the bed -- as if that was going to help change what he’d done last night.
And what had he done?
Gotten drunk?
Been too loose?
Let himself live a little too much?
Make out with his best friend’s sister?
Again?
It was nothing he hadn’t done before -- countless times, in fact. In some ways, his malaise seemed like something of an overreaction. It was one night. One drink too many. One kiss.
But it wasn’t, though.
It was the pattern of behavior, the one he had come all this way to break, the one he was falling back into right now, even as he sat miserably in his apartment.
Would he keep running, then? Would he pick up his shallow roots and get the hell out? Would he go someplace different, someplace new? Would he continue running from this person that he was?
Will had spent years running from his first indiscretion with Grace. Last time, he’d done more than kiss her. Last time, he’d spent an entire weekend with Adam’s sister, sleeping with her before realizing just how much of an idiot he was. When he tried to let her down, she had imploded.
Will had imploded, too. He’d taken the first flight out, and mailed in his resignation, skipping out on his last paycheck, too.
He’d come back to fix that mistake, but here he was. He hadn’t changed. He hadn’t grown up. He was still the same idiot. He was always going to be the exact same idiot.
In truth, it made him want to be sick again.
All his hard work, all his effort -- all his sacrifice -- and he was screwing it up. He was blowing it.
Sitting there, hungover and alone in his miserable little apartment, he knew he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t get some magical do-over. There was no way to scrub his actions from existence.
No, he just had to face it.
He just had to endure.
There was no running anymore.
-o-
There was no running, but that didn’t mean Will was facing his consequences with gusto. He sat miserably around his house for all of Saturday -- and all of Sunday for that matter. He continued to get texts from his coworkers -- Adam even called him once -- but Will had turned his phone to silent and stared at it until he went silent.
He would face the consequences -- on Monday. He’d show up to his shift, right on time. Until then…
Well, until then, what?
Until then, Will tried to eat a little food. He made some attempt to clean the dirty bathroom, but his energy for scrubbing left something to be desired. At some point, he fell asleep watching a youtube video on his couch, and he humored Jay with a few texts.
I’m fine. Just a quiet weekend here.
Technically, it was true.
How are the wedding plans? he added.
Jay’s scant reply was enough to remind Will that his brother wasn’t perfect at facing consequences either.
-o-
The weekend felt long, but it still wasn’t long enough. The interminable minutes eventually gave way, and Will found himself dressed and ready for work.
In his mind, he went through several scenarios wherein he apologized to Adam.
None of them sounded right.
He went into work anyway.
-o-
He came into work discreetly, doing his best to avoid talking to anyone. He was mostly successful in this, managing nothing more than a few polite grunts to a few of his colleagues as he retreated to the locker room and putting his things away in his locker. He thought, if only briefly, that maybe this wouldn’t go as badly as he thought it might.
When he closed the locker, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Adam was there.
So maybe this was going to go exactly as badly as he thought it might.
For his part, Adam just looked expectant. “I am relieved to find you in good health.”
Will fixed his lock and moved away from Adam stiffly. “What do you mean?”
“You disappeared from the party quite suddenly,” Adam said, keeping pace with him as they walked to the door. “Very sudden. No goodbyes. I worried that you had taken ill. Surely that is the only explanation for such rude behavior.”
Will reddened and came to a stop to face his friend. “Adam, look--”
Adam held up his hand. “This is not an ambush,” he said. He let his hand drift as he shrugged. “I am merely concerned. For if you are not ill, then there must be some other reason for such behavior.”
Will exhaled because if he was going to see this through, then this wasn’t a conversation he could avoid. He’d ran away from the program years ago just to avoid this, and if this was his second chance, then he had no choice but to take it. To finish something, as Jay would say. For once in his life. “Adam -- I just,” he fumbled, knitting his brows together. He shook his head, and blurted it. “Grace was there.”
Adam looked at him like he might be crazy. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I was the one who told you that.”
“Yeah, but it was Grace,” Will said. His stomach felt tight, and he glanced around self consciously as he lowered his voice. “I kissed her. I didn’t mean to, but it happened, and I didn’t want to tell you.”
At that, Adam laughed out loud. “Yes, I saw that,” he said. He gave Will a bemused look. “But when I saw it, it looked much more like she kissed you.”
Adam might think it was a joke, but Will was not in a laughing mood. He was here to work. He was here to rebuild his life. He was here to prove himself.
Sleeping with his best friend’s sister wasn’t part of the package this time around. “I made that mistake already, and I don’t intend to do it again. Not to you -- not to Grace,” he said with a resolute nod. “I won’t.”
As serious as Will was being, Adam seemed somehow vexed. “You are not listening to me,” he said. “What mistake are you talking about? You did nothing the first time around.”
Will shook his head, ever adamant. He had to keep to the script on this. If he didn’t, then the whole thing would fall apart. He would fall apart. “No,” he said, and he started to push past Adam to the door. “I’ll give you and Grace some space.”
Adam caught him by the arm, turning him back around. “Halstead, please!” he said. “You told me before you felt bad for sleeping with Grace, but I did not believe you felt this badly. Are you to tell me this is really why you left? Because of Grace?”
Will hesitated, not sure what to say. “I left because I broke her heart -- and violated your trust.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up. “You ran all the way back to America just because you were embarrassed that you slept with my sister?”
Will hesitated again. He could feel his heart in his chest, and he was keenly aware of the people passing around them now.
“I thought you were exaggerating! I thought it was an excuse!” Adam said with a guffaw. “Halstead, this is most ridiculous! I told you all along that my sister is crazy!”
“All the more reason we should just stay apart--”
“All the more reason to talk to her, just like you are talking to me now,” Adam said with slow emphasis on the words. Adam lifted one shoulder. “I mean, yes, she is crazy, but she is not a demon. Nor is she some damsel in distress. Talk to her, and she will see that you are not like so many of my other friends. You are a shy one.”
“I’m not shy,” Will retorted pointlessly. He tipped his head to the side curiously. “And she’s hit on your other friends?”
“All of them,” Adam said flatly. “Most of them sleep with her, too. She cries when they realize she is crazy as well.”
Adam was speaking rather sensibly, and Will struggled with the meaning. On the one hand, it was something of an absolution. On the other, he felt a little ridiculous. He had literally torched his first career in Africa over this -- over nothing. Adam might be trying to make him feel better, but if what he was saying about Grace were true--
Well, then Will had badly misjudged the situation.
He’d been so keen to run away from his mistakes that he hadn’t stopped to think if he was making them at all.
“She’s really crazy?” Will asked.
Adam chuckled. “In the best way. I love her, my sister, I do,” he said. “But she is strong willed, full of adventure. She wants to try everything, every experience, every place, every man. She is very much her own woman, and she does not need my protection or yours unless she asks for it.”
Will remembered how to breathe again, but somehow, he felt even stupider than before. “You’re being serious with me?”
“Halstead, yes!” Adam said firmly. “How many times must I tell you this? Come on, man! When a lesson is taught, there is no shame. However, you must learn it.”
At this point, Will should have been used to it: feeling stupid and feeling embarrassed. It just hadn’t occurred to him that, for all the things he was good at, facing his mistakes just wasn’t one of them. His instinct was to run, but here he was, feet planted firmly on the ground. This time, there was no ultimatum. This time, it was forgiveness.
“Okay,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet Adam’s once more. “I shouldn’t have run out like that. I’m sorry. Is there a way to talk to Grace later?”
“Is there a way for you to avoid Grace?” Adam joked. “Come out with me tonight.”
Will immediately started hedging, feeling the anxiety swell up reflexively in his chest.
Adam quickly continued. “Just one drink -- I promise,” he said. “And she will find you herself.”
For all that he wanted to say no, Will knew he had no grounds to. Adam’s proposal wasn’t mean or cruel. It wasn’t even unreasonable.
Plus, if he was trying to right a wrong, then he had to go along with it. For Adam’s sake -- and for Grace’s. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you after work.”
Adam smiled, almost as if in relief. “Very good,” he said. “I think we can resolve this very nicely, then.”
-o-
Adam was confident, which was something.
Adam was always confident, though. It was one of his defining character traits.
Will, however, was not -- which was the main thing.
The sense of belonging that he had built up over the last few weeks had suddenly dissipated in a single weekend. Before, he used to feel welcome to the idle chitchat around the ED. Now, he felt like the source of it. He knew that was somewhat irrational -- as if people didn’t have better things to think about than his pathetic ass -- but it was hard to shake.
As a matter of precaution, he kept to himself that day, eating by himself and avoiding others. He wasn’t sure who he was protecting exactly, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he got through the day without embarrassing himself further or accidentally hurting someone.
When his shift was over, he thought about sneaking out -- his promise to Adam be damned. Then, he considered signing on to work late, which might be a viable option if Adam were not his boss and in charge of the ED schedule. As it was, he had gotten himself into this mess.
Now, after more than a decade of putting it off, he finally needed to face it and own up to his shortcomings.
Adam acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, and Will couldn’t decide if his friend’s nonchalance made him feel better or worse about the situation. By the time they got to the bar, Will felt physically ill -- and he thought he might have to excuse himself for real as Adam got them a table in the back corner by the wall. Adam then took the liberty of ordering a pair of drinks, and Will stared at his beer, not sure what he was supposed to do with it.
Then, Adam looked up and waved at someone behind him. Will didn’t dare look, and he wanted to disappear into the seat.
“Don’t worry, Halstead,” Adam told him, patting him on the shoulder as he got up. “I will be right over at the bar.”
“I promise you I won’t do anything,” he said solemnly.
Adam’s look was funny. “You? I am worried about her. You must learn to protect yourself, man!”
It was pretty clear Adam wasn’t kidding.
Will didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.
It didn’t matter. As Adam vacated the table, Grace approached with a cocktail in hand. She winked at Adam, who glared at her. “Be nice,” he warned.
Grace smiled warmly. “I am always nice,” she said, sidling past her brother and coming for the chair across from Will. She stood for a moment, dark hair in tight curls against her head with red lips and deep green eyeshadow on her dark skin. She had large hoop earrings, and she paused for a moment, looking Will up and down. “Am I not nice, Will?”
The question felt like a proposition, and Will sat back tightly, pulling in on himself desperately. “Grace. It’s, uh, good to see you.”
She sat down, putting her drink down in front of her with some amount of pomp. “You saw me last night.”
“I know,” Will said. He sat back, pulling as far away from her as he could while still physically occupying the same table. “But I didn’t recognize you. Not at first.”
Grace took a slow sip, and she nodded. “So you have come to be a gentleman?”
“Um, yes?” Will said, trying and failing to find a relevant train of thought that might actually resolve this disaster of a situation. “Adam thought we should talk.”
“Whatever my brother has told you, it is true,” Grace announced. She preened a little once more, fiddling with the straw in her drink. Her lips turned up salaciously. “If anything, I am confident that he has sold me short.”
Will wasn’t sure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what to make of any of this. “Um, Grace,” he said, posturing with a failed intent to diffuse a situation he wasn’t even sure he understood at this point. “I just thought we should talk.”
She sat back, looking somewhat disappointed. “Talking like that; it is never the kind of talk that I want,” she said. Then, she regarded him with a cool eye. “Though I do prefer action to talk.”
Will cleared his throat, not sure if the insinuation was meant to make as absolutely uncomfortable as he was. “Look, Grace. You’re a very nice woman--”
Her face turned up in immediate revulsion. “You insult me now!”
Will’s mouth dropped open and he attempted to salvage an already floundering situation. “I mean, you’re beautiful,” he fumbled. “And attractive and energetic.”
Her eyes were narrowed at him, her lips pursed.
He frantically continued. “Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
Her coolness mellowed just slightly, but she still looked inherently skeptical.
“So I never intended to mislead you -- not now or before,” he said. “It’s just -- the thing is -- I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”
She inhaled sharply, recoiling as if he might have hit her.
Which he didn’t.
At all.
If anything, he was trying desperately to keep his distance.
“But you kissed me!” she objected, ever more strident in her conviction.
He held up his hands. To placate her, maybe. To defend himself, possibly, if it came to that. “I had a few too many drinks. It had been years since we’d last seen each other--”
Her eyes are flashing hot. “So you kiss lots of strange women in crowded bars?”
“As a general rule, no,” he said. “But--”
She scoffed loudly, cutting him off. “That is your problem!” she said. “I knew if I left it to you, you would never make a move. You used to have adventure, but you have grown soft in America.”
Will stopped, trying to process what she was saying. “So, you--”
She rolled her eyes in ready exasperation. “Took the initiative for you, of course!” she said. “Just like before. You were more carefree back then, but still. Such drama over my brother’s sake. Adam said I should leave you alone. That you took it badly last time. I thought he was exaggerating!”
Will was still floundering now. “Took it badly?”
“Yes, yes,” she said readily, as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. “He said you took my show badly. So serious!”
“Well, you were crying and begging--”
“Yes! My show!” she said, her tone almost indignant that she had to explain herself. “I am quite good at it, you know.”
Will blinked now, trying to make it parse. “But -- I thought I’d broken your heart. It was -- a show?”
“Yes!” she said. “I have put it on many times. I just wanted to win you back. I thought crying would help. It usually does.”
That was a lot of information. The revelation was told to him plaintively, but it told such a different story than the one he remembered that he hardly knew how to comprehend. “You--” he started and failed to make the thought materialize. “What?”
Her smile widened. “William, I like the drama,” she said buoyantly. Her eyes were sparkling. “And I like your red hair very much. It made me sad to quit. It still does.”
That was not a turn he had come prepared for. From his apologies, he was starting to feel vaguely used. He might be offended had he not spent that last 15 years thinking he was the offensive one. “I -- uh--”
Grace scoffed, making a wide gesture that was far too dramatic. “Oh, you are as silly as Adam says!” she proclaims, her voice lilting in her typical singsong fashion. She grinned at him lavaciously and winked. “Funny, it just makes me like you more.”
The more overt she became, the more Will tried to retreat. Tried -- and failed. “Grace, I promise you, I am not good in relationships. This would never work.”
She made a loud, dismissive noise. “And I am worse!” she crowed contentedly. “Are you sure you do not wish to try?”
Will withdrew another inch, and he nodded rapidly. “Very sure. I’m very sure.”
Her face creased with obvious disappointment, but she did not approach him further. “Very well. I will leave you be, my ginger boy,” she said, cooing a little at him. She winked again, pausing to waggle her eyebrows. “But if you change your mind, you will be able to find me.”