Chicago Med fic: Resolution (2/7)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
-o-
Will made sure that Mr. Alawe was taken care of in every way prior to his discharge, and he went back and finalized the paperwork himself just to be sure. He again assured the man that he had the number in his pocket, pushed his complimentary wheel chair to the private access entrance, and helped him load up in his car with his driver.
Then, he got back to work.
Having taken up so much of his day on a single patient, Will was understandably behind. He was still playing catch up by the end of the day, and it was late by the time he got back to his office to finish the mountain of paperwork that would have him working well into the night shift.
He was just preparing to settle in, when there was a knock at his door.
When he looked up, he was surprised to see Dr. Dunst standing there.
Frozen in place, Will tried desperately to remember if there had been a meeting scheduled that he’d forgotten about. He couldn’t check his day planner without being conspicuous at this time, and he wondered if he’d been unwise to not check his messages during his long shift. He had made a point to prioritize patient care when he was circulating on duty, but as an administrator, he needed to always balance his time. He made earnest efforts, but he was still new at this.
And frankly, he might just not be good enough at it.
Maybe that was why she was here.
Maybe she had come to fire him.
Will blinked and swallowed, forcing himself to abandon the out of control line of thought. He was a man who didn’t run from things anymore, a doctor who saw things through and faced the consequences.
No matter how much it scared him.
“Dr. Dunst,” he said, only marginally reining in his surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yes,” she said, making her way into his office with some awkwardness. She looked around, whether to be polite or to alleviate her own discomfort, Will wasn’t sure. She wanted to be here less than he wanted her here, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She forced herself to look at him and smile. “I do hope I’m not interrupting. It probably would have been proper to call--”
“No,” Will said, haphazardly trying to restack some of the papers on his desk to make him look more organized. “Um, do you want to sit down?”
He gestured to one of the chairs, and she seemed somewhat reluctant to accept. Still, she made some effort to sit, and he tentatively sat down across from her.
“I keep close tabs on the hospital,” she said, seemingly as a way to preface her visit. “As you might expect. I am always aware of the latest issues and controversies.”
Will nodded along. “I’m sure you are,” he said. He managed to smile. “Today’s been pretty quiet.”
“Yes, all things seem to be quite productive,” she said. But, then she hesitated, and Will felt his gut clench. “However, I was made aware that we had something of a special visitor today.”
The pressure in his gut started to build, making his chest feel tight at the same time. “Oh, Mr. Alawe?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous; everything had gone entirely fine. Maybe he had been too forward to accept the phone number? Maybe he’d not been smart enough to accept the invitation?
“Yes, Mr. Alawe,” Dr. Dunst said, and she shifted in her seat. She hesitated with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “Did it -- go well?”
It was an odd question, and she seemed to be asking it casually even though there was nothing casual about her being here. Not sure what to say, Will slowly nodded. “I think so,” he said. “The injury was minor, and he responded positively to treatment. As far as I know, he left feeling better and satisfied.”
It wasn’t an in depth summation, but without knowing what part of the process she was questioning, he was reluctant to make assumptions.
He was reluctant to do anything.
Hell, he was reluctant to breathe at this point.
“I’m sure you know by now that Mr. Alawa is one of our most generous patrons,” she said, wetting her lips a little.
“Of course,” Will said. “Even if someone hadn’t tipped me off that he was a VIP, Mr. Alawe isn’t exactly shy.”
At this, Dr. Dunst frowned, and Will’s fear ratcheted up substantially. “When I say one of our most generous donors, please don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “His support is critical, and he has more wealth to spread.”
By this point, it was clear she was implying something, but for the life of Will, he couldn’t put two and two together to come up with anything. “I’m really not sure I know what you’re getting at, Dr. Dunst.”
To his bewilderment, his honesty only flustered her more. She sat forward, and then she sat back, almost looking vexed. “I mean to say that Mr. Alawe is a very important figure to this hospital, and it is imperative that we maintain the best relations with him,” she said. She shook her head. “I do not like to play political games, and I do not enjoy…canoodling, yes?”
Will could only stare at this point as he tried to wrap his mind around the meaning of the word canoodling in this context. Something might have been getting lost in translation, or Will had been badly unreading the interpersonal relationship section of the manual.
Dr. Dunst seemed to know her point was not being made. “I am just saying that there is a certain finesse needed to develop and maintain relationships with our donors.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “I mean, I understand that.”
She nodded, seemingly reassured by his acknowledgement. “Then you will also understand when I say that such things are not my forte,” she said. “While I feel I am quite qualified for most aspects of operating the hospital, the ability to connect with patrons is not something I am particularly good at.”
Will shrugged, hoping to put her at ease. “It’s not something most people are good at,” he said. “And we all have our strengths and weaknesses.”
He was trying to put her at ease, but she only seemed more anxious the more he talked. She was sitting on the edge of the seat now, all but staring him down. “You treated him today. You spent much time with him, I understand.”
“Sure,” Will said. “He seemed to want the attention.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “And you were quite right to give it to him as long as the rest of the ED was in order.”
“Oh, yeah, it was,” Will said.
She was hardly listening. “The real question, though. The reason I am here,” she said, and she stopped and seemed to gather herself. “Did he invite you to the party?”
Will had still been expecting some kind of critique, perhaps a thorough assessment of his professional and personal failings, so the question caught him off guard. For a moment, his mind reeled, and when he finally remembered to speak, all he could do was ask the stupidest question imaginable. “The party?”
He wasn’t being purposefully obtuse, but he was just too slow on the uptake here.
Fortunately, Dr. Dunst was so far out of her own element that she didn’t seem to notice that Will was completely out of his depth as well. “The party,” she said, as a way of clarification. “It’s an annual benefit he holds -- a very big deal. Community leaders, major business players, government officials -- we’ve been trying to secure an invite for years.”
The reality of her enthusiasm was a difficult thing to grasp, so much so that it made comprehending the implications of what she was saying all the more pressing. Surely, he understood what she meant, and yet, it didn’t fit with the narrative he had built up in his head. “He did invite me,” Will said but he tilted his head to the side. “I figured it was best to decline, to avoid some conflict of interest.”
Her eyes widened, almost in horror. “Dr. Halstead, I understand the reference to hospital policy, but it does not apply here,” she said. “Mr. Alawe could be a critical ally to take our hospital to the next level. Not to mention the fact that the networking possibilities at such a gathering are quintessential. You must accept.”
Will’s mouth opened, but for a moment, no words came out. “I -- I mean -- I just thought it was best to stay out of things.”
“Normally, I would agree,” she said, sat forward with her hands on his desk now. “But this area of hospital management is not one that I have shown particular aptitude for. I believe I am very skilled with policy matters, personnel management, budgeting -- all the rest. But fundraising? Networking? Mingling? I am afraid this is not something I do well. Mr. Alawe finds me boring, but you -- if he likes you--”
“I don’t know if he likes me,” Will tried to say to put her off.
She wasn’t buying it for a second. “The nurses said he was very fond of you,” Dr. Dunst said. Then, she sat back somewhat, shrugging. “And it has not escaped my notice how easily you have integrated yourself into the staff here. You are well liked and known to be competent and affable. You are an obvious choice to serve as a public relations touchpoint for this hospital, and Mr. Alawe’s personal interest in you substantiates that idea.”
The assessment was practical, but Will still felt himself blushing. He had come here to do his job. His whole tactic had been to put his head down and just keep working. So this? Invitations to high end parties? Wasn’t really what he’d been planning on.
“Dr. Dunst, I’m a doctor. I run the ED,” he said. “I know nothing about fundraising or VIPs.”
“Your instincts are better than mine, at least,” she said. “Please, Dr. Halstead. For the sake of the hospital, I am asking you to do this. Go to the party. Make friends with Mr. Alawe.”
“Even if I did know what to do, I’m not really ready,” he said.
But Dr. Dunst wasn’t listening anymore. “It is decided,” she said, and she was already getting to her feet. “I cannot tell you just how relieved I am that you have made this connection, Dr. Halstead.”
He got to his feet after her, feeling rather helpless. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“And to think, I have been doing everything I can for the past two years,” she said with a rueful smile. “I see no basis in such things as charm, but you have clearly proven its efficacy.”
Will found the assessment vexing, the backwards way in which she called him charming as both a derogatory statement and a compliment.
“Very well,” she said, moving abruptly to the door without leaving room for further debate. “You will let me know if you need anything.”
He followed her to the door dumbly.
She turned back with one last perfunctory nod. “Thank you again, Dr. Halstead,” she said. “I have had my concerns about you, but you do seem to be stepping up and showing your worth.”
“I, uh, am just doing what I can,” Will fumbled for some kind of reply.
She smiled one more time, bobbing her head and exiting the room. Will was left standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.
His worth?
His charm?
Securing hospital funding?
Through a party no less?
Yeah, Will thought miserably as he closed the door, this was going to go great.
-o-
Feeling desperate with no clear way out, Will did the only thing he could think to do and called his brother.
True, his brother had no medical experience. And his brother abjectly hated playing political games.
But Jay had a good sense of right and wrong, and his gut instincts, while not always safe, were rarely wrong.
Or, you know, he was less wrong than Will most of the time.
It wasn’t perfect, but Will didn’t exactly have a lot of options.
When posed with the question, Jay seemed just as vexed by the situation as Will was -- just for entirely different reasons. “Wait, this is seriously a question about medical ethics?”
“I guess,” Will said. He had called his brother late to account for timezones, and he was nursing a beer as a self soothing nightcap.
“But why would you trust me to talk about medical ethics?” Jay pressed him. His brother was busy, and Will could hear the scuffle of the work environment just beyond their call.
“Because you’re my brother, and you work in a highly regulated industry,” Will said. “This is workplace ethics more than medical ethics. And my history in this area is spotty at best. I can’t afford to make the wrong call here. If I don’t go to the party, I’m letting down my boss -- and possibly my entire hospital. But I’m not sure if going somehow compromises my integrity.”
“Sure,” Jay said, and he seemed to have moved to a quieter room now as the background noise died away. “But why do you think I always make the right call? I mean, I am the guy currently hiding his relationship with his partner while simultaneously trying to plan a wedding.”
“So you haven’t told Voight?” Will asked, momentarily deterred. He put his drink down for a moment. “But the wedding is a thing?”
“You know, I’m pretty sure Voight knows but we’re all just pretending no one knows so we don’t have to talk about it,” Jay said. “Just like I don’t want to talk about it with you. You’re the one with a problem here.”
Will wasn’t entirely sure he was the only one with a problem, but as his problem was pressing, he went along with Jay’s deflection. “I just think, right now, I trust your instincts more than I trust my own.”
Jay made a little scoffing noise over the phone. “I would like to think that’s a compliment, but denigrating yourself doesn’t count.”
“Jay, please,” Will said. “I don’t have any confidence in my own decisions anymore. I keep going over the options and getting stuck because I can’t make the call.”
“Okay, okay,” Jay said, obviously relenting now. “You’re freaked out. Fine. What exactly is so scary about all this? It’s a fundraiser, right?”
“Yes,” Will said, and he sat back, picking up the beer again. “And it’s scary because I don’t know what lines I’m crossing ethically. I can’t put myself in a position to compromise my integrity as a doctor. I can’t be associated with something that looks like a pay off.”
“Well, then he’d actually have to pay you off,” Jay said.
“The reason Dr. Dunst wants me to go is to secure fundraising,” Will said. “It’s not the same thing, maybe--”
“No maybes,” Jay said. “It’s not the same thing. I mean, this is schmoozing. It’s a fancy party with rich people. That’s the kind of thing doctors do, right?”
Will shrugged, feeling helpless. He took a sip and let it wash down his throat. “If those doctors are also fancy people in their own right -- maybe,” Will said. “I’m nobody, though. The only reason I got invited was for my professional connections.”
“No, that’s not it,” Jay said. “You said it yourself. The dude liked you or whatever.”
Will looked at the beer forlornly. This would be far easier if he just let himself get tipsy so he stopped caring so much. But he needed his faculties sharp; he couldn’t afford to let himself slip here, even when slipping seemed inevitable. “I guess, yeah,” Will said with a noncommittal endorsement.
“So, he invited you,” Jay said. “He didn’t put stipulations on it. Quid pro quo usually has to be pretty explicitly understood by both parties to be legally binding.”
Jay was giving him a legalistic out, but Will couldn’t take it. “But the only reason I’m accepting is to increase the hospital’s prospects for more cash.”
“Isn’t that what you do on a daily basis?” Jay asked. “I mean, not to be cynical about it, but you save patients to -- get this -- make money. Save more patients, make more money.”
“It’s not the same thing,” Will protested in exasperation.
“Kind of is, dude,” Jay said. “And even if it’s not, think of it this way. Pretend this guy just likes you and your hospital, walks through your doors, writes a check. Is that legit?”
“I guess,” Will said. “As long as it’s not connected to preferential treatment.”
“Which it isn’t,” Jay said. “So how is it different if he gives it to you at a party? Or after a party? I mean, you’re going to go, make bad small talk, eat some overpriced food and leave, right? You’re not going to give him black market meds or anything. Do a surgery off the books.”
Indignant, Will put his drink down again. “Of course not.”
“So, it’s like dating. He likes you, you like him. You have shared interests, and you spend time together for those interests,” he said. “I don’t get why you’re so caught up on this.”
“Because I’m going for the money,” Will tried to clarify. He sighed and looked at his ceiling. “It’s like -- I’m pursuing a personal endeavor strictly for professional gain. It feels wrong to go and ask for money, even if the guy wants to give it.”
“Legally, I get it. There are a few sticky points,” Jay said. “But you just have to make sure it’s not tied to anything. It can’t be cash for favors, that kind of thing.”
Will’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Like with Ray Burke,” he recalled. “House visits for reception space.”
“Whoa,” Jay said, his tone immediately shifting in response to the hot-button topic. What went down with Ray Burke was something they still didn’t talk about -- at least, not really. “I didn’t say that.”
Will couldn’t pretend like it didn’t hurt, but he wasn’t trying to play the sympathy card, and he sure as hell wasn’t trying to pick a fight with his brother. “I know. You didn’t have to.”
He could hear his brother’s breathing hitch, all the way across the world in Chicago. “Will, you’re missing my point. This isn’t a favor. He invited you to a party, and you said yes. Rich people are weird, okay? They can donate their money however they want. You’re not in any position of being wrong if you take it. All you have to do is say thank-you, and treat him like any other patient the next time you see him.”
“Pretty sure I’ll have to treat him a little different,” Will said.
“So, you spend ten more minutes talking to him -- whatever,” Jay said. “Being super nice to the guy isn’t going to be a legal position.”
“So VIP treatment doesn’t qualify as a quid pro quo?” Will asked.
“If it does, then we’re all going to jail,” Jay said. “Just ask yourself a few basic questions. First, are you compromising the care of other patients?”
Will shook his head, even though this was a phone call. “No.”
“Does it give the guy anything for free?” Jay asked.
“No,” Will replied.
“Then, stop worrying so much,” Jay said. “You’re massively overthinking this one.”
Will exhaled, long and slow. He looked at his drink, but didn’t have the heart to pick it up again. Jay had a point -- that was why Will had called him -- but he couldn’t make it stick. He couldn’t make any of this stick, not when his own past was still haunting him so pervasively. “I just -- I don’t know, Jay,” he said. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”
“So this one really does go back to Ray Burke, then?”
Will winced, letting his gaze drop out the window. “Maybe.”
“That one really did a number on you. I never should have let it get that far,” Jay said, more to himself than to Will. Before Will could press him, Jay went on. “Look, the case against you in connection with Burke was tenuous -- at best.”
Will sat up a little bit, surprised by that answer. “That’s not what you said when you found out.”
“Because I was trying to scare you,” Jay said. He exhaled again, this time indignant.
Will’s brow furrowed. “But that’s not what the FBI said.”
“Because they were desperate,” Jay said, the words coming out faster and more irate now. “Don’t get confused on that one. Was making a deal with him sketchy? Yes, sure. But we all do that stuff because we live in a real world. Anyone who looked twice at your case would see you didn’t do anything that compromised your integrity or the hospital’s integrity. If anything, it was your unfailing commitment to medical ethics that really got you into trouble. You always put the patient first, even when it cost the investigation everything. So, see? Your instincts aren’t as bad as you think they are.”
It was a lot, really. When Will looked back at his tenure in Chicago, there was a definitive turning point. His association with Ray Burke had cost him everything -- literally, just about everything. The personal fallout was something he’d never quite recovered from. Professionally, he’d never operated with the same confidence or fortitude since.
“They don’t seem that great,” Will said. “I did get myself fired.”
“Well, fine,” Jay said abruptly. “Then, let’s focus on the positives instead.”
Will made a face, sitting back uneasily once more as he held the phone to his ear. “What are the positives exactly?”
“You get to go to a party, dude,” Jay said, his tone perking up. “A nice one, too. They’ll totally have an open bar.”
Will wrinkled his nose now. “There’s no way I’m drinking if I go.”
“Free food, then,” Jay said, refusing to miss a beat. “Better than whatever crap you make for yourself. I’ve seen your fridge, man. It’s not pretty.”
“Jay,” Will said, allowing himself to be exasperated again. “You’re being ridiculous. I called with serious concerns.”
“Which I addressed,” Jay said, matter of fact. “Now I’m trying to see the bright side. I mean, if this is something you’ve got to do--”
Tiredly, Will sighed once more. This time he did pick up the beer and take a drink. “I know, I know,” he said. “Then I’ve got to see it through.”
“And you might as well make the most of it,” Jay said, cajoling him now. “Just chill. Go to the party. It’s not going to be the end of the world -- or the end of your career.”
That was a reasonable conclusion -- probably. Will wasn’t convinced, really, but there was a reason he didn’t trust his own judgement anymore. This was why he’d called Jay. “I guess,” he conceded finally. Then, he wet his lips, and thought again about his brother, who was probably at work. “Sorry to interrupt your day with this. How’s work?”
“Busy, but normal,” Jay said.
“And Hailey?” Will asked, and the question was casual in tone but not intent.
Jay knew it, too. His laid back tone immediately grew stiff. “You know, fine.”
“Fine?” Will repeated. “Jay, you never want to talk about you.”
“I talk about me all the time,” Jay said. “Last week, I gave you a detailed rundown of my caseload.”
“Fine, you never talk about you and Hailey,” Will clarified. “I don’t even know if I’m supposed to be calling her your fiancee.”
“Because it’s not an important distinction,” Jay said.
“So you never gave her the ring?” Will asked. “I’ve been here for half a year.”
“Hey, ease up,” Jay said. “You’re the guy who had to move to another continent to deal with his crap. Don’t go judging me.”
Will took his turn to scoff. “I’m not judging. I’m being a supportive brother, just like you’ve been.”
“Are you sure we don’t need to go back and talk about the parameters of quid pro quo again?” Jay redirected.
Will rolled his eyes. “So, you’re still not ready to talk about Hailey. Got it.”
Over the line, he heard Jay sigh. “It’s just -- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “Sometimes, it feels like everything makes sense. We make such a good match -- and we love each other, man. We really do.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Will asked.
“Just the real world,” Jay said. “It’s Intelligence, and Voight, and the team--”
“But Burgess and Ruzek have a thing, too?” Will pointed out.
“But Burgess and Ruzek aren’t us,” Jay said. “Everyone knows I’m supposed to take Voight’s place someday, and I don’t know how to make that work if I’m in love with my partner. Sometimes, it makes me not even want it at all.”
“But you love her,” Will said.
“Yeah, and you and I both know that you can’t compromise your career because of your personal emotions,” Jay said, and he wasn’t being unkind now. “I just -- I don’t know.”
Will sat thoughtfully and studied his half finished beer. “I get it,” he said. “And I’m the last person to talk about love on the job, given the messes I’ve made. But I also know a thing or two about missing your moment. Jay, she makes you happy. You make her happy. I don’t want to see you miss out on that.”
After a moment of punctuated silence, Jay said, “Like I did with Erin.”
Will’s gut twisted. Guilt. Regret. “Like I did with Natalie.”
The shared quiet was something they both understood this time, something they both felt. Finally, Jay let out a low, rueful chuckle. “We are a pair, man.”
Will nodded, downing another drink in commiseration. “The Halstead brothers.”
“Yeah, well,” Jay said. “At least we have each other.”
“Always,” Will pledged. “Good luck at work today, man.”
“Thanks,” Jay said with a little grunt. “And good luck at your party.”
Will would take that for what it was worth.
He was pretty sure, by the time all was said and done, he would need all the luck he could get.
-o-
It was late when he got off the phone with Jay, so Will didn’t call that night. He had an early shift, so he didn’t call in the morning, and he was doing charts all through lunch, so he didn’t call then. Finally, he worked late, but he knew that his hours were waning. If he wanted to, he’d always find an excuse.
He had to finish what he started.
Even when he really, really hated it.
When it scared him, when it overwhelmed him, when it put him on edge.
No matter what.
He took out the card, retreated to his office, took a breath, and dialed.
It rang once, and twice. Will vainly hoped maybe no one would answer. Maybe it was the wrong number. Maybe none of this was actually real.
Then, out of nowhere, the line connected.
“Yes?” was the answer on the other end.
Will swallowed hard, relying on his instincts as a human being to open up communication. “Hi. Uh, is this, um, Mr. Alawe?”
“Yes!” was the reply, and Will recognized the exuberant voice all too well. “And this is--?”
“Dr. Halstead,” he said, swallowing hard over the closing lump in his throat.. “From--”
“The hospital!” Mr. Alawe rejoined enthusiastically. “You mended my poor ankle!”
“Yes,” Will said, smiling despite himself. “I, uh. How is your ankle?”
“Honestly? It is fantastic,” Mr. Alawe said. “I don’t think I sprained it very much now, did I? But you knew that better than I.”
Will did, but he wasn’t about to say as much. Honesty was a virtue, but that didn’t mean you always had to speak when silence was more virtuous. “I’m just glad you’re doing well,” Will said. “If there’s anything else you need, we will happily be able to do follow up care at the hospital.”
Mr. Alawe made a small sound of agreement. “Yes, yes, of course. Though I think there is something I can do for you. This party -- I am afraid it is a little pretentious. Do you need new clothing?”
“Oh,” Will said, and the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I mean, I have a suit and tie.”
“Let me send over a suit -- just to borrow, of course,” Mr. Alawe said.
“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Will said.
“If you are sure?”
Will nodded, flush with embarrassment. “I’m really sure.”
“Then, at least let me send a car to pick you up,” Mr. Alawe offered.
“I’ve gotten pretty good with the public transit system,” Will started to explain.
“It will not take you to where I live,” Mr. Alawe said. “Really, it is just best if I send a car. Safer, easier--”
Will made a face. “I don’t know--”
“Well, I do,” Mr. Alawe said with some finality. “To pay for the drive would be cost prohibitive. I know what they pay you at the hospital. I invited you. This burden is on me.”
That didn’t seem like the way Will wanted this to go, but to be fair, Will hadn’t want it to go at all. If it were up to him, he never would have called Mr. Alawe back -- and he certainly wouldn’t be RSVPing to a fancy party he had no business attending.
But Dr. Dunst had made her position clear.
Will’s invective was obvious.
He was never going to disappoint a boss like he had disappointed Ms. Goodwin. The look on her face; the tone of her voice. Will wouldn’t do it.
“If you say so,” Will said, giving a helpless shrug despite himself.
“Excellent!” Mr. Alawe said, sounding genuinely pleased. “I will make all the arrangements, yes? Just be ready at 6 PM on Saturday. And if you need anything in the meantime, please call.”
“Sounds good,” Will said, even though he wasn’t sure what any of it actually sounded like. He was so far in that the only way out was through. It was a hell of a way to live; the only way he had left. “Thanks again, Mr. Alawe.”
“Thank you, Dr. Halstead,” he chimed back eagerly. “I very much look forward to meeting you again.”
As Will hung up the phone, he closed his eyes. At least that made one of them.
-o-
Of all the controversial things Will had done in the course of his career, agreeing to go to a party probably didn’t really crack the top five. Given his tendency to flame out, that probably wasn’t saying much, but he tried to keep things in perspective.
This was okay.
This was fine.
He was fine.
And he had plenty to do besides worry about some silly party. Will was still an ED doctor, and he was still in charge of everything that happened in the ED. He busied himself as best he could, and it wasn’t particularly hard to find things to occupy his attention. He would have slept at the office if he could, but he wasn’t sure if that was technically a violation of policy about employees living on hospital grounds.
Jay continued to remind him that this was no big deal, and Will continued to steadfastly not believe him. To distract Will, Jay shared a few tidbits from work, and Will knew Jay was really concerned about him when he voluntarily talked about how things were going with Hailey.
“I just think she’s got to figure some stuff out with herself,” Jay explained. “I mean, me and her -- it’s all good. But she’s got her own things, you know?”
“Oh, and you don’t?” Will jested back.
“Ha ha,” Jay said. “Says the guy running away to Africa.”
“I’m just saying, if it were me, I’d have put a ring on her finger,” Will said. “Whatever questions she has about herself, she can work through while engaged.”
Jay sighed a little, as though that point had probably occurred to him. “It’s like what you’re doing, though,” he said. “You can’t start over. You can’t just skip to the end.”
Will nodded along in understanding. “Sometimes, you’ve just got to live through it.”
Jay was quiet for a moment, and Will didn’t need to ask why it was so hard. He knew because for all the ways they were different, they were very much the same. The Halstead brothers, both flawed to the end. Jay handled it better, sure, but that didn’t change who they were.
“For what it’s worth, I think she’ll figure it out,” Will said. “You two are the real deal.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s a shoe-in,” Jay said. His voice sounded bittersweet. “It’s a mistake to take your happy ever afters for granted, but you got to hold out hope, I guess.”
“Tell Hailey I say hi,” Will said. “One thing I don’t like about being over here is that I don’t get to see her. Right when you two are the real deal, I’m halfway across the world.”
“Hey, your choice, not mine,” Jay said. “Come home and we’ll all go out for dinner.”
Will smiled at the thought. “I’d like that,” he said. “But we both have to finish what we’ve started.”
“That’s right,” Jay said, perking up again. “You ready to party?”
“No,” Will muttered.
“Oh, it’ll be great,” Jay cajoled.
“It’ll be awful,” Will told him. “I feel like I’m being punished all over again.”
“Yes, because attending fancy parties is totally the same as getting canned,” Jay mused with sarcasm.
Will huffed. “I see your point. I don’t like it, but I see it.”
Jay chuckled. “Eat a little weenie for me or something.”
“That seems incredibly appropriate,” Will joked.
“Well, it’s to see you’ve still got a little humor left,” Jay snarked back.
“A little,” Will commiserated. “After this party, I make no guarantees.”
“Well, news flash, bro,” Jay said. “You never were the funny one.”
-o-
In the end, there was nothing to be done for any of it. Will had made his decision. Right or wrong, eager or reluctant. He’d committed, both to Mr. Alawe and Dr. Dunst -- so it was time to live up to his word.
On the day of the party, he did his best to get ready. He showered, and he took extra time to style his hair and trim his beard. Looking at himself in the mirror, it still didn’t feel like enough, so he washed his face, trimmed his nails and checked on the state of his nose hairs just in case.
At some point, he attempted to eat, but he found his stomach tied up in knots. He was nervous, of all the ridiculous things. As trained as he was -- and as experienced as he was -- and he was like some high school kid, anxious to go on a date.
If high school kids went to expensive parties at the house’s of philanthropic millionaires on behest of their overly critical boss.
To compensate for his nerves, he put on extra deodorant and went through runs of small talk by looking at himself in the mirror. As the time drew near, he got dressed. He’d always liked his suit -- he’d thought it was one of his better pieces.
Looking at himself now, though, he wondered if he should have gone shopping for something that wasn’t off the rack. He had brought two ties with him, and he selected the one that didn’t have a small stain on it. The scuffed belt and worn dress shoes had also seen better days, and he realized belatedly that in his packing for Africa, he had not counted on fancy parties as one of his necessary tasks.
Undoubtedly, he was going to look woefully out of place, but that would be fitting. Will was going to be woefully out of place. He was a kid from Canaryville. He was still paying off his medical school debt. He had literally been fired from his job less than a year ago.
What the hell was he doing? Who was he even kidding here?
He felt like a fraud. Hell, he might be a fraud. Here he was, pretending to be a good doctor, and he wasn’t.
The problem was that the same reasons that made him want to run were the reasons he couldn’t. If he was going to prove himself, he couldn’t do that by ducking what was coming. He had to move forward; he had to. It was the only way he could ever possibly redeem himself.
He had to stay true.
He had to stay the course.
He had to go party.
When the car arrived, Will was as ready as he was ever going to be.
-o-
The minute he saw the car, he knew just how far in he was. The car wasn’t a limousine, which he had thought would make things better. Instead, it was a jet black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows and immaculate body work. In the back, he was treated to air conditioning, a custom music system and a video screen.
“If you need anything, Dr. Halstead, I am at your disposal,” the driver said as he got into the front seat and glanced back at Will.
Wil laughed awkwardly. “All I needed was a ride,” he said. “So I think we’re already in the area beyond expectations.”
The driver made a polite smile, as he clearly had been coached to do, and Will was relieved when he started the car and pulled away from the curb, and away from Will’s neighborhood. He’d always been impressed how nice his block was, but sitting in the back of a car that cost a year’s salary, he had a new perspective on it.
Feeling uncomfortably out of place, Will fiddled with his seatbelt and considered putting on some music. The video screen had a welcome menu, but he didn’t dare touch it. Instead, he picked up his phone, plucking it from his pocket, desperately checking for messages that he usually tried to ignore.
There was Maggie telling him the rundown on things at Med.
A former resident was asking him for a reference.
One of the nurses wanted to know when he was coming back.
And a snarky comment from Jay. Just remember the legal definition of quid pro quo, and you’ll be fine!
Will put the phone away, and took a breath.
Fine was one word for it, probably.
It just wasn’t the one he would use.
-o-
Will had been feeling anxious already, so when they arrived at Mr. Alawe’s house, he hadn’t thought it could get much worse. That was Will’s fault, for assuming that things couldn’t get worse.
Things could get worse.
Inevitably, things would get worse.
Growing up in Chicago and spending time in New York, Will had seen a lot of wealth. He’d seen fancy high rise buildings with glamorous penthouse suites. A few times, he’d been over to Connor’s place, and although Connor insisted he was living modestly, the place was still ten times nicer than anything Will had ever been able to afford.
That was all to say that none of it compared to this.
Mr. Alawe didn’t own a house.
The guy owned a damn compound.
Outside of town, it was fully fortified with a private fence and a full security checkpoint. The grounds were immaculate with pristine landscaping and a sprawling yard. There were trees, flower gardens, a lake -- all of it.
That didn’t get Will started on the house.
The house had a magnificent front entrance with tall white columns and grandiose stonework. There were large wings on either side, each large enough to house multiple families in and of themselves. He couldn’t tell how far back it went, but it didn’t really matter. When Mr. Alawe said he was rich, that was probably an understatement.
The car pulled up around front, and the driver hastily let Will out. Will felt silly with the service, especially since he was pretty sure the driver was better dressed than he was. He had hoped his suit and tie would be good enough, but that was a laughable sentiment now.
He was completely out of place. For all the good that this suit was going to do him at a place like this, he should have just skipped the effort and worn his scrubs. He was pretty sure it would have looked just as out of place as he did now.
There was nothing to be done for it now. The driver was showing him to the stairs, and Will was caught up in a small crowd of people as they ascended the staircase. Women in evening gowns; men in tuxes. At the door, he was asked for his name, and Will gave it, hoping against hope that this was all a mistake, that he wasn’t on the list. He’d happily walk home at this point just to get the hell out.
He had no such luck. He was quickly admitted and welcomed to the evening, and Will had no choice but to enter.
Inside, the impact was no less dramatic. The exterior of the home had been beautiful, to be sure. The inside showed the true depths of what wealth could buy. The floors gleamed, and there were fresh flowers everywhere. The walls were lined with enough art to make it look like a museum, and the furniture seemed to be a collection of antique pieces and custom designs. There were roaming waiters, carrying trays of food, and there was indeed an open bar, which was welcoming dozens of guests already.
Will couldn’t tell how many people were already present -- there was no way to gauge with so many rooms available. As best he could tell, guests were allowed to roam throughout five or six rooms, one of which seemed to be a library and the other seemed to be a dedicated gallery. There was also a ballroom with a live band and actual dancing -- because of course there was.
Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Will was ready to slink against the wall and try to disappear. However, as he roamed through the space, he started to run into people he knew. Doctors from the hospital. Administrators from other hospitals. Some local business leaders he’d gotten to know from partner work in the community.
To his surprise, they were all pleased to see him. For all that he was surprised, they seemed to think this was totally natural. They didn’t give his suit a second look, and they talked to him like he belonged there.
Like he might just be one of them.
It was surreal, all of it. That he was here; that he wasn’t out of place.
That he could stand there in his lackluster suit and make small talk about the weather in an exotic mansion.
That he could leave Chicago in disgrace and find himself here.
There had been a time when this would have wooed him. Working in New York as a plastic surgeon, this had been the lifestyle he’d aimed for. Even back in Chicago, he’d only applied at the best hospitals. He’d wanted to advance his career, earn more money, broker more power. He’d been tempted to leave the hospital for pharmaceuticals, not because he felt called to it, but because he’d been drawn to this.
Power, wealth, prestige.
Will had never imagined being the richest guy in the room, but to be accepted by them? To work his way up to this kind of place? To belong?
Except that had gotten him nowhere. It had clouded his vision -- in New York and in Chicago.
He couldn’t let that happen here.
He had to wear his crappy suit and make small talk. He had to eat the horderves and carry around a glass of wine. And then he would talk to business partners about future investments. He would talk to other administrators about joint collaboration projects. He was here to advance the hospital’s interests. He was here on behalf of Dr. Dunst.
His own ambitions were forfeit.
Iff they weren’t dead already, he would strangle them with the crappy tie he was wearing.
So help him God.
-o-
With this mindset, Will managed most of the party with relative ease. He still felt out of place, but that was sort of the point. He was supposed to be out of place, and as long as he remembered that, he was going to be just fine.
After several hours, he’d set up two business meetings, and he’d exchanged cards with several politicians and administrators. He was ready to call this thing a night well done when he came around a corner and found himself face to face with Mr. Alawe.
“Ah, Dr. Halstead!” the man crowed. “There you are!”
This was Mr. Alawe’s party, and Will had obviously known that. However, he’d found some confidence in thinking he might not see the man.
But there he was. Standing all by himself, like he was waiting for Will.
And Will, empty handed, could only force himself to smile.
“Mr. Alawe!” he said, trying not to balk awkwardly. “This is an amazing event. Thank you for inviting me.”
Mr. Alawe shrugged with a vague glance around. “And thank you for accepting the invitation,” he said, offering a hand to shake. Will took it gratefully. “I was worried you did not want to come, but I trust you have been having an acceptable time?”
“More than acceptable,” Will said. “This is truly magnificent.”
“Ah, flattering will get you nowhere,” he said with a coy shrug.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” Will said. “I know you have many guests--”
“Too many, yes?” Mr. Alawe said. “I have been mingling all night. I was actually just about to step out. Would you like to join me?”
Will hesitated, not sure what that meant. He racked his mind, trying to remember Jay’s legal definition of quid pro quo and coming up blank.
“I guess,” he said, because the only thing he could remember was Dr. Dunst’s invective to secure more funding. “If you like.”
Mr. Alawe smiled. “Then come,” he said, gesturing behind him to one of the doors. “Then, come.”
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
-o-
Will made sure that Mr. Alawe was taken care of in every way prior to his discharge, and he went back and finalized the paperwork himself just to be sure. He again assured the man that he had the number in his pocket, pushed his complimentary wheel chair to the private access entrance, and helped him load up in his car with his driver.
Then, he got back to work.
Having taken up so much of his day on a single patient, Will was understandably behind. He was still playing catch up by the end of the day, and it was late by the time he got back to his office to finish the mountain of paperwork that would have him working well into the night shift.
He was just preparing to settle in, when there was a knock at his door.
When he looked up, he was surprised to see Dr. Dunst standing there.
Frozen in place, Will tried desperately to remember if there had been a meeting scheduled that he’d forgotten about. He couldn’t check his day planner without being conspicuous at this time, and he wondered if he’d been unwise to not check his messages during his long shift. He had made a point to prioritize patient care when he was circulating on duty, but as an administrator, he needed to always balance his time. He made earnest efforts, but he was still new at this.
And frankly, he might just not be good enough at it.
Maybe that was why she was here.
Maybe she had come to fire him.
Will blinked and swallowed, forcing himself to abandon the out of control line of thought. He was a man who didn’t run from things anymore, a doctor who saw things through and faced the consequences.
No matter how much it scared him.
“Dr. Dunst,” he said, only marginally reining in his surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yes,” she said, making her way into his office with some awkwardness. She looked around, whether to be polite or to alleviate her own discomfort, Will wasn’t sure. She wanted to be here less than he wanted her here, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She forced herself to look at him and smile. “I do hope I’m not interrupting. It probably would have been proper to call--”
“No,” Will said, haphazardly trying to restack some of the papers on his desk to make him look more organized. “Um, do you want to sit down?”
He gestured to one of the chairs, and she seemed somewhat reluctant to accept. Still, she made some effort to sit, and he tentatively sat down across from her.
“I keep close tabs on the hospital,” she said, seemingly as a way to preface her visit. “As you might expect. I am always aware of the latest issues and controversies.”
Will nodded along. “I’m sure you are,” he said. He managed to smile. “Today’s been pretty quiet.”
“Yes, all things seem to be quite productive,” she said. But, then she hesitated, and Will felt his gut clench. “However, I was made aware that we had something of a special visitor today.”
The pressure in his gut started to build, making his chest feel tight at the same time. “Oh, Mr. Alawe?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous; everything had gone entirely fine. Maybe he had been too forward to accept the phone number? Maybe he’d not been smart enough to accept the invitation?
“Yes, Mr. Alawe,” Dr. Dunst said, and she shifted in her seat. She hesitated with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “Did it -- go well?”
It was an odd question, and she seemed to be asking it casually even though there was nothing casual about her being here. Not sure what to say, Will slowly nodded. “I think so,” he said. “The injury was minor, and he responded positively to treatment. As far as I know, he left feeling better and satisfied.”
It wasn’t an in depth summation, but without knowing what part of the process she was questioning, he was reluctant to make assumptions.
He was reluctant to do anything.
Hell, he was reluctant to breathe at this point.
“I’m sure you know by now that Mr. Alawa is one of our most generous patrons,” she said, wetting her lips a little.
“Of course,” Will said. “Even if someone hadn’t tipped me off that he was a VIP, Mr. Alawe isn’t exactly shy.”
At this, Dr. Dunst frowned, and Will’s fear ratcheted up substantially. “When I say one of our most generous donors, please don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “His support is critical, and he has more wealth to spread.”
By this point, it was clear she was implying something, but for the life of Will, he couldn’t put two and two together to come up with anything. “I’m really not sure I know what you’re getting at, Dr. Dunst.”
To his bewilderment, his honesty only flustered her more. She sat forward, and then she sat back, almost looking vexed. “I mean to say that Mr. Alawe is a very important figure to this hospital, and it is imperative that we maintain the best relations with him,” she said. She shook her head. “I do not like to play political games, and I do not enjoy…canoodling, yes?”
Will could only stare at this point as he tried to wrap his mind around the meaning of the word canoodling in this context. Something might have been getting lost in translation, or Will had been badly unreading the interpersonal relationship section of the manual.
Dr. Dunst seemed to know her point was not being made. “I am just saying that there is a certain finesse needed to develop and maintain relationships with our donors.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “I mean, I understand that.”
She nodded, seemingly reassured by his acknowledgement. “Then you will also understand when I say that such things are not my forte,” she said. “While I feel I am quite qualified for most aspects of operating the hospital, the ability to connect with patrons is not something I am particularly good at.”
Will shrugged, hoping to put her at ease. “It’s not something most people are good at,” he said. “And we all have our strengths and weaknesses.”
He was trying to put her at ease, but she only seemed more anxious the more he talked. She was sitting on the edge of the seat now, all but staring him down. “You treated him today. You spent much time with him, I understand.”
“Sure,” Will said. “He seemed to want the attention.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “And you were quite right to give it to him as long as the rest of the ED was in order.”
“Oh, yeah, it was,” Will said.
She was hardly listening. “The real question, though. The reason I am here,” she said, and she stopped and seemed to gather herself. “Did he invite you to the party?”
Will had still been expecting some kind of critique, perhaps a thorough assessment of his professional and personal failings, so the question caught him off guard. For a moment, his mind reeled, and when he finally remembered to speak, all he could do was ask the stupidest question imaginable. “The party?”
He wasn’t being purposefully obtuse, but he was just too slow on the uptake here.
Fortunately, Dr. Dunst was so far out of her own element that she didn’t seem to notice that Will was completely out of his depth as well. “The party,” she said, as a way of clarification. “It’s an annual benefit he holds -- a very big deal. Community leaders, major business players, government officials -- we’ve been trying to secure an invite for years.”
The reality of her enthusiasm was a difficult thing to grasp, so much so that it made comprehending the implications of what she was saying all the more pressing. Surely, he understood what she meant, and yet, it didn’t fit with the narrative he had built up in his head. “He did invite me,” Will said but he tilted his head to the side. “I figured it was best to decline, to avoid some conflict of interest.”
Her eyes widened, almost in horror. “Dr. Halstead, I understand the reference to hospital policy, but it does not apply here,” she said. “Mr. Alawe could be a critical ally to take our hospital to the next level. Not to mention the fact that the networking possibilities at such a gathering are quintessential. You must accept.”
Will’s mouth opened, but for a moment, no words came out. “I -- I mean -- I just thought it was best to stay out of things.”
“Normally, I would agree,” she said, sat forward with her hands on his desk now. “But this area of hospital management is not one that I have shown particular aptitude for. I believe I am very skilled with policy matters, personnel management, budgeting -- all the rest. But fundraising? Networking? Mingling? I am afraid this is not something I do well. Mr. Alawe finds me boring, but you -- if he likes you--”
“I don’t know if he likes me,” Will tried to say to put her off.
She wasn’t buying it for a second. “The nurses said he was very fond of you,” Dr. Dunst said. Then, she sat back somewhat, shrugging. “And it has not escaped my notice how easily you have integrated yourself into the staff here. You are well liked and known to be competent and affable. You are an obvious choice to serve as a public relations touchpoint for this hospital, and Mr. Alawe’s personal interest in you substantiates that idea.”
The assessment was practical, but Will still felt himself blushing. He had come here to do his job. His whole tactic had been to put his head down and just keep working. So this? Invitations to high end parties? Wasn’t really what he’d been planning on.
“Dr. Dunst, I’m a doctor. I run the ED,” he said. “I know nothing about fundraising or VIPs.”
“Your instincts are better than mine, at least,” she said. “Please, Dr. Halstead. For the sake of the hospital, I am asking you to do this. Go to the party. Make friends with Mr. Alawe.”
“Even if I did know what to do, I’m not really ready,” he said.
But Dr. Dunst wasn’t listening anymore. “It is decided,” she said, and she was already getting to her feet. “I cannot tell you just how relieved I am that you have made this connection, Dr. Halstead.”
He got to his feet after her, feeling rather helpless. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“And to think, I have been doing everything I can for the past two years,” she said with a rueful smile. “I see no basis in such things as charm, but you have clearly proven its efficacy.”
Will found the assessment vexing, the backwards way in which she called him charming as both a derogatory statement and a compliment.
“Very well,” she said, moving abruptly to the door without leaving room for further debate. “You will let me know if you need anything.”
He followed her to the door dumbly.
She turned back with one last perfunctory nod. “Thank you again, Dr. Halstead,” she said. “I have had my concerns about you, but you do seem to be stepping up and showing your worth.”
“I, uh, am just doing what I can,” Will fumbled for some kind of reply.
She smiled one more time, bobbing her head and exiting the room. Will was left standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.
His worth?
His charm?
Securing hospital funding?
Through a party no less?
Yeah, Will thought miserably as he closed the door, this was going to go great.
-o-
Feeling desperate with no clear way out, Will did the only thing he could think to do and called his brother.
True, his brother had no medical experience. And his brother abjectly hated playing political games.
But Jay had a good sense of right and wrong, and his gut instincts, while not always safe, were rarely wrong.
Or, you know, he was less wrong than Will most of the time.
It wasn’t perfect, but Will didn’t exactly have a lot of options.
When posed with the question, Jay seemed just as vexed by the situation as Will was -- just for entirely different reasons. “Wait, this is seriously a question about medical ethics?”
“I guess,” Will said. He had called his brother late to account for timezones, and he was nursing a beer as a self soothing nightcap.
“But why would you trust me to talk about medical ethics?” Jay pressed him. His brother was busy, and Will could hear the scuffle of the work environment just beyond their call.
“Because you’re my brother, and you work in a highly regulated industry,” Will said. “This is workplace ethics more than medical ethics. And my history in this area is spotty at best. I can’t afford to make the wrong call here. If I don’t go to the party, I’m letting down my boss -- and possibly my entire hospital. But I’m not sure if going somehow compromises my integrity.”
“Sure,” Jay said, and he seemed to have moved to a quieter room now as the background noise died away. “But why do you think I always make the right call? I mean, I am the guy currently hiding his relationship with his partner while simultaneously trying to plan a wedding.”
“So you haven’t told Voight?” Will asked, momentarily deterred. He put his drink down for a moment. “But the wedding is a thing?”
“You know, I’m pretty sure Voight knows but we’re all just pretending no one knows so we don’t have to talk about it,” Jay said. “Just like I don’t want to talk about it with you. You’re the one with a problem here.”
Will wasn’t entirely sure he was the only one with a problem, but as his problem was pressing, he went along with Jay’s deflection. “I just think, right now, I trust your instincts more than I trust my own.”
Jay made a little scoffing noise over the phone. “I would like to think that’s a compliment, but denigrating yourself doesn’t count.”
“Jay, please,” Will said. “I don’t have any confidence in my own decisions anymore. I keep going over the options and getting stuck because I can’t make the call.”
“Okay, okay,” Jay said, obviously relenting now. “You’re freaked out. Fine. What exactly is so scary about all this? It’s a fundraiser, right?”
“Yes,” Will said, and he sat back, picking up the beer again. “And it’s scary because I don’t know what lines I’m crossing ethically. I can’t put myself in a position to compromise my integrity as a doctor. I can’t be associated with something that looks like a pay off.”
“Well, then he’d actually have to pay you off,” Jay said.
“The reason Dr. Dunst wants me to go is to secure fundraising,” Will said. “It’s not the same thing, maybe--”
“No maybes,” Jay said. “It’s not the same thing. I mean, this is schmoozing. It’s a fancy party with rich people. That’s the kind of thing doctors do, right?”
Will shrugged, feeling helpless. He took a sip and let it wash down his throat. “If those doctors are also fancy people in their own right -- maybe,” Will said. “I’m nobody, though. The only reason I got invited was for my professional connections.”
“No, that’s not it,” Jay said. “You said it yourself. The dude liked you or whatever.”
Will looked at the beer forlornly. This would be far easier if he just let himself get tipsy so he stopped caring so much. But he needed his faculties sharp; he couldn’t afford to let himself slip here, even when slipping seemed inevitable. “I guess, yeah,” Will said with a noncommittal endorsement.
“So, he invited you,” Jay said. “He didn’t put stipulations on it. Quid pro quo usually has to be pretty explicitly understood by both parties to be legally binding.”
Jay was giving him a legalistic out, but Will couldn’t take it. “But the only reason I’m accepting is to increase the hospital’s prospects for more cash.”
“Isn’t that what you do on a daily basis?” Jay asked. “I mean, not to be cynical about it, but you save patients to -- get this -- make money. Save more patients, make more money.”
“It’s not the same thing,” Will protested in exasperation.
“Kind of is, dude,” Jay said. “And even if it’s not, think of it this way. Pretend this guy just likes you and your hospital, walks through your doors, writes a check. Is that legit?”
“I guess,” Will said. “As long as it’s not connected to preferential treatment.”
“Which it isn’t,” Jay said. “So how is it different if he gives it to you at a party? Or after a party? I mean, you’re going to go, make bad small talk, eat some overpriced food and leave, right? You’re not going to give him black market meds or anything. Do a surgery off the books.”
Indignant, Will put his drink down again. “Of course not.”
“So, it’s like dating. He likes you, you like him. You have shared interests, and you spend time together for those interests,” he said. “I don’t get why you’re so caught up on this.”
“Because I’m going for the money,” Will tried to clarify. He sighed and looked at his ceiling. “It’s like -- I’m pursuing a personal endeavor strictly for professional gain. It feels wrong to go and ask for money, even if the guy wants to give it.”
“Legally, I get it. There are a few sticky points,” Jay said. “But you just have to make sure it’s not tied to anything. It can’t be cash for favors, that kind of thing.”
Will’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Like with Ray Burke,” he recalled. “House visits for reception space.”
“Whoa,” Jay said, his tone immediately shifting in response to the hot-button topic. What went down with Ray Burke was something they still didn’t talk about -- at least, not really. “I didn’t say that.”
Will couldn’t pretend like it didn’t hurt, but he wasn’t trying to play the sympathy card, and he sure as hell wasn’t trying to pick a fight with his brother. “I know. You didn’t have to.”
He could hear his brother’s breathing hitch, all the way across the world in Chicago. “Will, you’re missing my point. This isn’t a favor. He invited you to a party, and you said yes. Rich people are weird, okay? They can donate their money however they want. You’re not in any position of being wrong if you take it. All you have to do is say thank-you, and treat him like any other patient the next time you see him.”
“Pretty sure I’ll have to treat him a little different,” Will said.
“So, you spend ten more minutes talking to him -- whatever,” Jay said. “Being super nice to the guy isn’t going to be a legal position.”
“So VIP treatment doesn’t qualify as a quid pro quo?” Will asked.
“If it does, then we’re all going to jail,” Jay said. “Just ask yourself a few basic questions. First, are you compromising the care of other patients?”
Will shook his head, even though this was a phone call. “No.”
“Does it give the guy anything for free?” Jay asked.
“No,” Will replied.
“Then, stop worrying so much,” Jay said. “You’re massively overthinking this one.”
Will exhaled, long and slow. He looked at his drink, but didn’t have the heart to pick it up again. Jay had a point -- that was why Will had called him -- but he couldn’t make it stick. He couldn’t make any of this stick, not when his own past was still haunting him so pervasively. “I just -- I don’t know, Jay,” he said. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”
“So this one really does go back to Ray Burke, then?”
Will winced, letting his gaze drop out the window. “Maybe.”
“That one really did a number on you. I never should have let it get that far,” Jay said, more to himself than to Will. Before Will could press him, Jay went on. “Look, the case against you in connection with Burke was tenuous -- at best.”
Will sat up a little bit, surprised by that answer. “That’s not what you said when you found out.”
“Because I was trying to scare you,” Jay said. He exhaled again, this time indignant.
Will’s brow furrowed. “But that’s not what the FBI said.”
“Because they were desperate,” Jay said, the words coming out faster and more irate now. “Don’t get confused on that one. Was making a deal with him sketchy? Yes, sure. But we all do that stuff because we live in a real world. Anyone who looked twice at your case would see you didn’t do anything that compromised your integrity or the hospital’s integrity. If anything, it was your unfailing commitment to medical ethics that really got you into trouble. You always put the patient first, even when it cost the investigation everything. So, see? Your instincts aren’t as bad as you think they are.”
It was a lot, really. When Will looked back at his tenure in Chicago, there was a definitive turning point. His association with Ray Burke had cost him everything -- literally, just about everything. The personal fallout was something he’d never quite recovered from. Professionally, he’d never operated with the same confidence or fortitude since.
“They don’t seem that great,” Will said. “I did get myself fired.”
“Well, fine,” Jay said abruptly. “Then, let’s focus on the positives instead.”
Will made a face, sitting back uneasily once more as he held the phone to his ear. “What are the positives exactly?”
“You get to go to a party, dude,” Jay said, his tone perking up. “A nice one, too. They’ll totally have an open bar.”
Will wrinkled his nose now. “There’s no way I’m drinking if I go.”
“Free food, then,” Jay said, refusing to miss a beat. “Better than whatever crap you make for yourself. I’ve seen your fridge, man. It’s not pretty.”
“Jay,” Will said, allowing himself to be exasperated again. “You’re being ridiculous. I called with serious concerns.”
“Which I addressed,” Jay said, matter of fact. “Now I’m trying to see the bright side. I mean, if this is something you’ve got to do--”
Tiredly, Will sighed once more. This time he did pick up the beer and take a drink. “I know, I know,” he said. “Then I’ve got to see it through.”
“And you might as well make the most of it,” Jay said, cajoling him now. “Just chill. Go to the party. It’s not going to be the end of the world -- or the end of your career.”
That was a reasonable conclusion -- probably. Will wasn’t convinced, really, but there was a reason he didn’t trust his own judgement anymore. This was why he’d called Jay. “I guess,” he conceded finally. Then, he wet his lips, and thought again about his brother, who was probably at work. “Sorry to interrupt your day with this. How’s work?”
“Busy, but normal,” Jay said.
“And Hailey?” Will asked, and the question was casual in tone but not intent.
Jay knew it, too. His laid back tone immediately grew stiff. “You know, fine.”
“Fine?” Will repeated. “Jay, you never want to talk about you.”
“I talk about me all the time,” Jay said. “Last week, I gave you a detailed rundown of my caseload.”
“Fine, you never talk about you and Hailey,” Will clarified. “I don’t even know if I’m supposed to be calling her your fiancee.”
“Because it’s not an important distinction,” Jay said.
“So you never gave her the ring?” Will asked. “I’ve been here for half a year.”
“Hey, ease up,” Jay said. “You’re the guy who had to move to another continent to deal with his crap. Don’t go judging me.”
Will took his turn to scoff. “I’m not judging. I’m being a supportive brother, just like you’ve been.”
“Are you sure we don’t need to go back and talk about the parameters of quid pro quo again?” Jay redirected.
Will rolled his eyes. “So, you’re still not ready to talk about Hailey. Got it.”
Over the line, he heard Jay sigh. “It’s just -- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “Sometimes, it feels like everything makes sense. We make such a good match -- and we love each other, man. We really do.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Will asked.
“Just the real world,” Jay said. “It’s Intelligence, and Voight, and the team--”
“But Burgess and Ruzek have a thing, too?” Will pointed out.
“But Burgess and Ruzek aren’t us,” Jay said. “Everyone knows I’m supposed to take Voight’s place someday, and I don’t know how to make that work if I’m in love with my partner. Sometimes, it makes me not even want it at all.”
“But you love her,” Will said.
“Yeah, and you and I both know that you can’t compromise your career because of your personal emotions,” Jay said, and he wasn’t being unkind now. “I just -- I don’t know.”
Will sat thoughtfully and studied his half finished beer. “I get it,” he said. “And I’m the last person to talk about love on the job, given the messes I’ve made. But I also know a thing or two about missing your moment. Jay, she makes you happy. You make her happy. I don’t want to see you miss out on that.”
After a moment of punctuated silence, Jay said, “Like I did with Erin.”
Will’s gut twisted. Guilt. Regret. “Like I did with Natalie.”
The shared quiet was something they both understood this time, something they both felt. Finally, Jay let out a low, rueful chuckle. “We are a pair, man.”
Will nodded, downing another drink in commiseration. “The Halstead brothers.”
“Yeah, well,” Jay said. “At least we have each other.”
“Always,” Will pledged. “Good luck at work today, man.”
“Thanks,” Jay said with a little grunt. “And good luck at your party.”
Will would take that for what it was worth.
He was pretty sure, by the time all was said and done, he would need all the luck he could get.
-o-
It was late when he got off the phone with Jay, so Will didn’t call that night. He had an early shift, so he didn’t call in the morning, and he was doing charts all through lunch, so he didn’t call then. Finally, he worked late, but he knew that his hours were waning. If he wanted to, he’d always find an excuse.
He had to finish what he started.
Even when he really, really hated it.
When it scared him, when it overwhelmed him, when it put him on edge.
No matter what.
He took out the card, retreated to his office, took a breath, and dialed.
It rang once, and twice. Will vainly hoped maybe no one would answer. Maybe it was the wrong number. Maybe none of this was actually real.
Then, out of nowhere, the line connected.
“Yes?” was the answer on the other end.
Will swallowed hard, relying on his instincts as a human being to open up communication. “Hi. Uh, is this, um, Mr. Alawe?”
“Yes!” was the reply, and Will recognized the exuberant voice all too well. “And this is--?”
“Dr. Halstead,” he said, swallowing hard over the closing lump in his throat.. “From--”
“The hospital!” Mr. Alawe rejoined enthusiastically. “You mended my poor ankle!”
“Yes,” Will said, smiling despite himself. “I, uh. How is your ankle?”
“Honestly? It is fantastic,” Mr. Alawe said. “I don’t think I sprained it very much now, did I? But you knew that better than I.”
Will did, but he wasn’t about to say as much. Honesty was a virtue, but that didn’t mean you always had to speak when silence was more virtuous. “I’m just glad you’re doing well,” Will said. “If there’s anything else you need, we will happily be able to do follow up care at the hospital.”
Mr. Alawe made a small sound of agreement. “Yes, yes, of course. Though I think there is something I can do for you. This party -- I am afraid it is a little pretentious. Do you need new clothing?”
“Oh,” Will said, and the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I mean, I have a suit and tie.”
“Let me send over a suit -- just to borrow, of course,” Mr. Alawe said.
“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Will said.
“If you are sure?”
Will nodded, flush with embarrassment. “I’m really sure.”
“Then, at least let me send a car to pick you up,” Mr. Alawe offered.
“I’ve gotten pretty good with the public transit system,” Will started to explain.
“It will not take you to where I live,” Mr. Alawe said. “Really, it is just best if I send a car. Safer, easier--”
Will made a face. “I don’t know--”
“Well, I do,” Mr. Alawe said with some finality. “To pay for the drive would be cost prohibitive. I know what they pay you at the hospital. I invited you. This burden is on me.”
That didn’t seem like the way Will wanted this to go, but to be fair, Will hadn’t want it to go at all. If it were up to him, he never would have called Mr. Alawe back -- and he certainly wouldn’t be RSVPing to a fancy party he had no business attending.
But Dr. Dunst had made her position clear.
Will’s invective was obvious.
He was never going to disappoint a boss like he had disappointed Ms. Goodwin. The look on her face; the tone of her voice. Will wouldn’t do it.
“If you say so,” Will said, giving a helpless shrug despite himself.
“Excellent!” Mr. Alawe said, sounding genuinely pleased. “I will make all the arrangements, yes? Just be ready at 6 PM on Saturday. And if you need anything in the meantime, please call.”
“Sounds good,” Will said, even though he wasn’t sure what any of it actually sounded like. He was so far in that the only way out was through. It was a hell of a way to live; the only way he had left. “Thanks again, Mr. Alawe.”
“Thank you, Dr. Halstead,” he chimed back eagerly. “I very much look forward to meeting you again.”
As Will hung up the phone, he closed his eyes. At least that made one of them.
-o-
Of all the controversial things Will had done in the course of his career, agreeing to go to a party probably didn’t really crack the top five. Given his tendency to flame out, that probably wasn’t saying much, but he tried to keep things in perspective.
This was okay.
This was fine.
He was fine.
And he had plenty to do besides worry about some silly party. Will was still an ED doctor, and he was still in charge of everything that happened in the ED. He busied himself as best he could, and it wasn’t particularly hard to find things to occupy his attention. He would have slept at the office if he could, but he wasn’t sure if that was technically a violation of policy about employees living on hospital grounds.
Jay continued to remind him that this was no big deal, and Will continued to steadfastly not believe him. To distract Will, Jay shared a few tidbits from work, and Will knew Jay was really concerned about him when he voluntarily talked about how things were going with Hailey.
“I just think she’s got to figure some stuff out with herself,” Jay explained. “I mean, me and her -- it’s all good. But she’s got her own things, you know?”
“Oh, and you don’t?” Will jested back.
“Ha ha,” Jay said. “Says the guy running away to Africa.”
“I’m just saying, if it were me, I’d have put a ring on her finger,” Will said. “Whatever questions she has about herself, she can work through while engaged.”
Jay sighed a little, as though that point had probably occurred to him. “It’s like what you’re doing, though,” he said. “You can’t start over. You can’t just skip to the end.”
Will nodded along in understanding. “Sometimes, you’ve just got to live through it.”
Jay was quiet for a moment, and Will didn’t need to ask why it was so hard. He knew because for all the ways they were different, they were very much the same. The Halstead brothers, both flawed to the end. Jay handled it better, sure, but that didn’t change who they were.
“For what it’s worth, I think she’ll figure it out,” Will said. “You two are the real deal.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s a shoe-in,” Jay said. His voice sounded bittersweet. “It’s a mistake to take your happy ever afters for granted, but you got to hold out hope, I guess.”
“Tell Hailey I say hi,” Will said. “One thing I don’t like about being over here is that I don’t get to see her. Right when you two are the real deal, I’m halfway across the world.”
“Hey, your choice, not mine,” Jay said. “Come home and we’ll all go out for dinner.”
Will smiled at the thought. “I’d like that,” he said. “But we both have to finish what we’ve started.”
“That’s right,” Jay said, perking up again. “You ready to party?”
“No,” Will muttered.
“Oh, it’ll be great,” Jay cajoled.
“It’ll be awful,” Will told him. “I feel like I’m being punished all over again.”
“Yes, because attending fancy parties is totally the same as getting canned,” Jay mused with sarcasm.
Will huffed. “I see your point. I don’t like it, but I see it.”
Jay chuckled. “Eat a little weenie for me or something.”
“That seems incredibly appropriate,” Will joked.
“Well, it’s to see you’ve still got a little humor left,” Jay snarked back.
“A little,” Will commiserated. “After this party, I make no guarantees.”
“Well, news flash, bro,” Jay said. “You never were the funny one.”
-o-
In the end, there was nothing to be done for any of it. Will had made his decision. Right or wrong, eager or reluctant. He’d committed, both to Mr. Alawe and Dr. Dunst -- so it was time to live up to his word.
On the day of the party, he did his best to get ready. He showered, and he took extra time to style his hair and trim his beard. Looking at himself in the mirror, it still didn’t feel like enough, so he washed his face, trimmed his nails and checked on the state of his nose hairs just in case.
At some point, he attempted to eat, but he found his stomach tied up in knots. He was nervous, of all the ridiculous things. As trained as he was -- and as experienced as he was -- and he was like some high school kid, anxious to go on a date.
If high school kids went to expensive parties at the house’s of philanthropic millionaires on behest of their overly critical boss.
To compensate for his nerves, he put on extra deodorant and went through runs of small talk by looking at himself in the mirror. As the time drew near, he got dressed. He’d always liked his suit -- he’d thought it was one of his better pieces.
Looking at himself now, though, he wondered if he should have gone shopping for something that wasn’t off the rack. He had brought two ties with him, and he selected the one that didn’t have a small stain on it. The scuffed belt and worn dress shoes had also seen better days, and he realized belatedly that in his packing for Africa, he had not counted on fancy parties as one of his necessary tasks.
Undoubtedly, he was going to look woefully out of place, but that would be fitting. Will was going to be woefully out of place. He was a kid from Canaryville. He was still paying off his medical school debt. He had literally been fired from his job less than a year ago.
What the hell was he doing? Who was he even kidding here?
He felt like a fraud. Hell, he might be a fraud. Here he was, pretending to be a good doctor, and he wasn’t.
The problem was that the same reasons that made him want to run were the reasons he couldn’t. If he was going to prove himself, he couldn’t do that by ducking what was coming. He had to move forward; he had to. It was the only way he could ever possibly redeem himself.
He had to stay true.
He had to stay the course.
He had to go party.
When the car arrived, Will was as ready as he was ever going to be.
-o-
The minute he saw the car, he knew just how far in he was. The car wasn’t a limousine, which he had thought would make things better. Instead, it was a jet black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows and immaculate body work. In the back, he was treated to air conditioning, a custom music system and a video screen.
“If you need anything, Dr. Halstead, I am at your disposal,” the driver said as he got into the front seat and glanced back at Will.
Wil laughed awkwardly. “All I needed was a ride,” he said. “So I think we’re already in the area beyond expectations.”
The driver made a polite smile, as he clearly had been coached to do, and Will was relieved when he started the car and pulled away from the curb, and away from Will’s neighborhood. He’d always been impressed how nice his block was, but sitting in the back of a car that cost a year’s salary, he had a new perspective on it.
Feeling uncomfortably out of place, Will fiddled with his seatbelt and considered putting on some music. The video screen had a welcome menu, but he didn’t dare touch it. Instead, he picked up his phone, plucking it from his pocket, desperately checking for messages that he usually tried to ignore.
There was Maggie telling him the rundown on things at Med.
A former resident was asking him for a reference.
One of the nurses wanted to know when he was coming back.
And a snarky comment from Jay. Just remember the legal definition of quid pro quo, and you’ll be fine!
Will put the phone away, and took a breath.
Fine was one word for it, probably.
It just wasn’t the one he would use.
-o-
Will had been feeling anxious already, so when they arrived at Mr. Alawe’s house, he hadn’t thought it could get much worse. That was Will’s fault, for assuming that things couldn’t get worse.
Things could get worse.
Inevitably, things would get worse.
Growing up in Chicago and spending time in New York, Will had seen a lot of wealth. He’d seen fancy high rise buildings with glamorous penthouse suites. A few times, he’d been over to Connor’s place, and although Connor insisted he was living modestly, the place was still ten times nicer than anything Will had ever been able to afford.
That was all to say that none of it compared to this.
Mr. Alawe didn’t own a house.
The guy owned a damn compound.
Outside of town, it was fully fortified with a private fence and a full security checkpoint. The grounds were immaculate with pristine landscaping and a sprawling yard. There were trees, flower gardens, a lake -- all of it.
That didn’t get Will started on the house.
The house had a magnificent front entrance with tall white columns and grandiose stonework. There were large wings on either side, each large enough to house multiple families in and of themselves. He couldn’t tell how far back it went, but it didn’t really matter. When Mr. Alawe said he was rich, that was probably an understatement.
The car pulled up around front, and the driver hastily let Will out. Will felt silly with the service, especially since he was pretty sure the driver was better dressed than he was. He had hoped his suit and tie would be good enough, but that was a laughable sentiment now.
He was completely out of place. For all the good that this suit was going to do him at a place like this, he should have just skipped the effort and worn his scrubs. He was pretty sure it would have looked just as out of place as he did now.
There was nothing to be done for it now. The driver was showing him to the stairs, and Will was caught up in a small crowd of people as they ascended the staircase. Women in evening gowns; men in tuxes. At the door, he was asked for his name, and Will gave it, hoping against hope that this was all a mistake, that he wasn’t on the list. He’d happily walk home at this point just to get the hell out.
He had no such luck. He was quickly admitted and welcomed to the evening, and Will had no choice but to enter.
Inside, the impact was no less dramatic. The exterior of the home had been beautiful, to be sure. The inside showed the true depths of what wealth could buy. The floors gleamed, and there were fresh flowers everywhere. The walls were lined with enough art to make it look like a museum, and the furniture seemed to be a collection of antique pieces and custom designs. There were roaming waiters, carrying trays of food, and there was indeed an open bar, which was welcoming dozens of guests already.
Will couldn’t tell how many people were already present -- there was no way to gauge with so many rooms available. As best he could tell, guests were allowed to roam throughout five or six rooms, one of which seemed to be a library and the other seemed to be a dedicated gallery. There was also a ballroom with a live band and actual dancing -- because of course there was.
Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Will was ready to slink against the wall and try to disappear. However, as he roamed through the space, he started to run into people he knew. Doctors from the hospital. Administrators from other hospitals. Some local business leaders he’d gotten to know from partner work in the community.
To his surprise, they were all pleased to see him. For all that he was surprised, they seemed to think this was totally natural. They didn’t give his suit a second look, and they talked to him like he belonged there.
Like he might just be one of them.
It was surreal, all of it. That he was here; that he wasn’t out of place.
That he could stand there in his lackluster suit and make small talk about the weather in an exotic mansion.
That he could leave Chicago in disgrace and find himself here.
There had been a time when this would have wooed him. Working in New York as a plastic surgeon, this had been the lifestyle he’d aimed for. Even back in Chicago, he’d only applied at the best hospitals. He’d wanted to advance his career, earn more money, broker more power. He’d been tempted to leave the hospital for pharmaceuticals, not because he felt called to it, but because he’d been drawn to this.
Power, wealth, prestige.
Will had never imagined being the richest guy in the room, but to be accepted by them? To work his way up to this kind of place? To belong?
Except that had gotten him nowhere. It had clouded his vision -- in New York and in Chicago.
He couldn’t let that happen here.
He had to wear his crappy suit and make small talk. He had to eat the horderves and carry around a glass of wine. And then he would talk to business partners about future investments. He would talk to other administrators about joint collaboration projects. He was here to advance the hospital’s interests. He was here on behalf of Dr. Dunst.
His own ambitions were forfeit.
Iff they weren’t dead already, he would strangle them with the crappy tie he was wearing.
So help him God.
-o-
With this mindset, Will managed most of the party with relative ease. He still felt out of place, but that was sort of the point. He was supposed to be out of place, and as long as he remembered that, he was going to be just fine.
After several hours, he’d set up two business meetings, and he’d exchanged cards with several politicians and administrators. He was ready to call this thing a night well done when he came around a corner and found himself face to face with Mr. Alawe.
“Ah, Dr. Halstead!” the man crowed. “There you are!”
This was Mr. Alawe’s party, and Will had obviously known that. However, he’d found some confidence in thinking he might not see the man.
But there he was. Standing all by himself, like he was waiting for Will.
And Will, empty handed, could only force himself to smile.
“Mr. Alawe!” he said, trying not to balk awkwardly. “This is an amazing event. Thank you for inviting me.”
Mr. Alawe shrugged with a vague glance around. “And thank you for accepting the invitation,” he said, offering a hand to shake. Will took it gratefully. “I was worried you did not want to come, but I trust you have been having an acceptable time?”
“More than acceptable,” Will said. “This is truly magnificent.”
“Ah, flattering will get you nowhere,” he said with a coy shrug.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” Will said. “I know you have many guests--”
“Too many, yes?” Mr. Alawe said. “I have been mingling all night. I was actually just about to step out. Would you like to join me?”
Will hesitated, not sure what that meant. He racked his mind, trying to remember Jay’s legal definition of quid pro quo and coming up blank.
“I guess,” he said, because the only thing he could remember was Dr. Dunst’s invective to secure more funding. “If you like.”
Mr. Alawe smiled. “Then come,” he said, gesturing behind him to one of the doors. “Then, come.”