Chicago Med fic: Redemption (7/8)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
-o-
After Helena left, Will felt numb. He got dressed with stiff fingers, and he barely remembered what he was even doing. On autopilot, he left for the night, nodding a perfunctory goodbye to all his staff members as he left.
It was late, and Will was tired and sore, but he still walked home. Looking up at the streetlights, he wondered if Helena had made it home by now. Then, he remembered that it wasn’t his right to wonder.
But he did.
He wondered about what he was even doing anymore.
Nearly a full year, he’d been here. All this time, all this effort -- and for what? He’d done good work -- he’d done important work -- and he wanted to think he’d grown. But had he? Where was the evidence? Was he still here making all the same mistakes? Or had he just learned to make all new ones?
Suddenly, the progress over the past year didn’t feel all that substantial. The jobs weren’t that impressive. The work wasn’t that important. He was still the same guy.
The same flawed idiot he’d always been.
Had he changed at all? Had he learned anything? How would he even know if he did?
The futility of it was suddenly overwhelming. When he got back to his place, his fingers were shaking so badly that he could barely open the door. He was starving, but didn’t have the motivation to eat, and it took too much effort to make it to the bed. Instead, he crashed down on the couch, sitting and staring vacantly at the wall.
He was supposed to be getting somewhere with all of this. It was supposed to have a purpose.
But what if it had all been a way to punish himself?
What if he’d just spent the entire year engaging in overt self flagellation?
What if that was what was necessary? What if that was what the rest of his life was supposed to be?
Did he deserve to be happy?
Did he really?
Because there had been moments, of course. He’d had moments of pure joy over the past year. Spending time with Adam. Running the ER for Dr. Dunst. Falling in love with Helena.
He’d fallen in love with her.
The clarity of the realization cut him like a scalpel to the chest.
He wasn’t sure what love meant, in this case, and he didn’t know where it could even lead. But he could find out.
He could pick up his phone right now and call her and just find out, once and for all.
Except, it wasn’t that simple.
Sitting there, staring listlessly at the wall, Will knew he couldn’t start something new. He had come to Africa to finish things. He had to find closure -- whatever that was -- and until then, he wouldn’t be ready for anything new. And he couldn’t risk Helena’s heart in this. He had to tie up his loose ends first.
That thought made him pause.
His loose ends were more than professional. He’d built meaningful relationships with colleagues. He’d learned to work within the boundaries defined by a superior. He’d managed to take on responsibility like a true leader, providing moderated and meaningful guidance. He’d learned to follow rules. He’d learned to understand the rules. He’d learned about honesty, being a team player -- all of it.
So what was left?
What loose ends were flapping in the wind?
Love.
He’d let his attachment to Natalie throw him off track. He’d been willing to throw away his future with Sabeena, he’d compromised the trial, he’d risked his own career -- for her. Only for her.
He wasn’t naive when it came to that. If it had been anyone else -- literally anyone else -- he wouldn’t have done it. He would have found another way.
But it was Natalie.
The woman who had worn his mother’s ring. The one he’d planned a future with. She’d been waiting for him at the church, ready to promise to love, honor and protect. He’d left her standing there, and that was on him. Maybe covering up for her was a way to rectify that. Maybe he still loved her. Maybe it was just a story that didn’t have the ending written yet.
Loose ends.
Will had come to finish what he’d started. He’d left everything he loved to tie up the loose ends of his life. Professionally, he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t making progress. His friendships, his professional relationship -- they were falling into line.
But romance.
But love.
He couldn’t move on with Helena.
He’d fought against it, he’d tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t move on.
Not when he hadn’t really let Natalie go.
Sitting there, the inception of the idea came into focus slowly, almost reluctantly. Perhaps he was truly realizing it here, or maybe he’d known it all along. All the chapters of his life that he’d been closing, and this one was waving wide open. It was a loose end, one that might unravel everything else he’d worked for if he didn’t pull it just right.
He had to make things right with Natalie. He had to come to terms, make peace.
If he called, he was sure she’d answer. She’d probably be glad to talk to him.
But what would he say? What did he want to say? What did he need to say?
He’d come a long way this year, but he wasn’t sure he’d come that far.
Maybe he never would.
Because some things could change.
Other things, though -- Will still just wasn’t sure.
Closing his eyes, he put the impetus away.
This was a loose end he would have to tie off another day.
-o-
The decision was made, and all of Will’s self control was tied up in it. He felt precarious, somehow, as though his emotions were just barely in check. He laid on the couch all night, but he didn’t quite sleep. He woke up, having rested the entire time, but not feeling rested at all.
It was the same pervasive listlessness he remembered, the one that had nearly paralyzed him after being fired.
Work had been his salvation then.
It was the only hope he had now, too.
His emotions felt blunted by shock as he got up and readied himself for the day. He was back to going through the motions. One task at a time.
Getting into work, he felt some trepidation, but Helena was true to her word. When he saw her the next morning, she was bright and chipper as ever. She showed no lingering signs that their conversation had changed things for her, and her amazing ability to understand him did make him wonder if he was being too hasty. She was offering complete acceptance, and that was almost more tantalizing than anything else.
But it wasn’t fair to Helena. He understood the protocol for not dating people who work for you; it made things too complicated. Now that he knew that she loved him, he was responsible for her heart. He’d never intended to lead her on, but Will had trailed after Natalie long enough to know how these things worked.
Moving forward, he just had to be careful. He had to greet her professionally. From here on out, there were no more private lunches. Instead, he always ate in the cafeteria with as many surgeons as possible. He started doing lunch with groups instead of one-on-one. They still worked together, but Will avoided the locker room. He was the boss; it only made sense.
The changes were small, and they were well within the boundaries of professional protocol, but Helena was too smart not to understand. Sometimes, she lingered after him and Will wanted to go to her. Sometimes, her hand brushed against his in a trauma and Will felt his heart stop. Sometimes, when they laughed, it was like all the world was theirs and he didn’t care about the loose ends trailing after him.
But Will had changed. He was resolved, now.
He had to remember his priorities. He had to remember why he’d come. And he couldn’t afford to let Helena be his collateral damage, no matter how willing they both seemed to be on that front.
Will was in the business of saving lives.
That was what this started with.
He promised himself that was what it was going to end with as well.
-o-
Will found his rhythm.
Not as happy as he used to be, but just as productive. Maybe not as personally satisfied, but professionally flourishing. He was making progress, at least.
On what, he wasn’t always sure.
But on something.
He had to believe it was all for something.
-o-
Then, one day, out of nowhere, he got a call from Dr. Wexler. As a supervisory member of the board, Dr. Wexler had been assigned as his primary point person. When she called, her calls always went through, and he always answered.
Usually, the calls were perfunctory, going over the latest numbers or some type of policy or staffing change. Today, it was different.
“My annual review?” Will asked, somehow surprised. “I don’t understand.”
“Oh, please don’t be alarmed,” Dr. Wexler assured him quickly over the call. “It’s standard procedure for all our employees at all levels. We take our investment in personnel very seriously, I’m sure you understand by now.”
“Sure,” Will said. “But--”
He tried to wrap his mind around it.
A year?
Had it really been a year.
“I guess I just lost track of time,” Will admitted, not sure how to get ahold of his confusion. “Will we schedule a call?”
“For many employees, yes,” Dr. Wexler said. “But for higher level positions, we prefer to do them in person.”
Will hesitated.
Dr. Wexler picked up on it immediately. “Again, don’t be alarmed.” she said. “I don’t think I’m spoiling anything when I say I expect your review to go quite well.”
“I guess,” Will said, feeling less and less certain by the minute.
“Anyway, I have already cleared your schedule with your assistant,” Dr. Wexler continued brightly. “We will book you a flight for next Tuesday, and you can expect to stay through the weekend.”
Will was even more dismayed now. “The weekend?”
“The review will be for two or three days, mostly to go over different facets of your tenure,” she said. “And we thought you might like to enjoy a holiday at the same time. You haven’t used any of your time off--”
“That’s not necessary, Dr. Wexler--”
“Dr. Halstead, please. I insist,” she said.
“Okay, then,” he said, feeling like he couldn’t object.
“Wonderful,” she said cheerily. “See you next Tuesday.”
-o-
As Chief of Staff, Will had been unwavering. He’d barely taken a day off, and he tended to come in on weekends even when he wasn’t scheduled to have a shift. He had made the hospital his life, in essence. He’d neither wanted nor needed a respite.
Now that one was being foisted upon him, he found himself anxious. How would things operate without him? Would all the policies he put in place fall apart? What if something happened? What if there was a crisis?
He was so vexed by the possibility of everything going wrong that he could barely make plans to leave. He tried to get out of the meeting several times, contacting Dr. Wexler and Dr. Ho separately, citing concerns about hospital operations, but both of them insisted that his presence was mandatory. He consulted Adam, who rolled his eyes on the video call and told Will that the hospital could survive just fine without him.
Jay was the worst one of all. When he told his brother his review was coming up, he had the audacity to act like it was a vacation. “You need to get away,” he said. “You’ve been working way too hard.”
“Well, it’s a big job,” Will said. “I’ve got a new nurse starting, and we’re getting some psychiatric training materials. I haven’t been able to finesse the budget enough for a full time staff member, but I might be able to get someone part time--”
“I’m not even listening to you,” Jay said. “Just take the vacation.”
“It’s a review,” Will told him sullenly. “They could fire me.”
“Right, the guy who literally turned a dying hospital into a profitable venture,” Jay said. “Definitely sounds like grounds for termination.”
“I could have done something wrong--”
“Will, you didn’t,” he said. “If you had, I’d be the first one to tell you, but you haven’t. Do you really not see how much you’ve changed?”
“I can’t see anything,” Will said. “I just feel -- I don’t know. I just feel like it’s unsettled.”
“No, you feel unsettled,” Jay pointed out to him. “Things are fine. You just have to believe it. So this review may do you good.”
Will drew his brows together in consternation. “I still think I could get fired.”
He could practically hear Jay rolling his eyes. “Just call me when it’s done,” he said. “And try not to be too mopey leading up to it, okay?”
Jay was incorrigible, but that was just the way his brother was. Will knew he meant well, and he wouldn’t fault his brother’s good intentions. It was still something he missed about Chicago -- one thing of many: having his brother always at his back.
When he deserved it.
And especially when he didn’t.
-o-
With no way out, Will accepted the inevitability as best he could.
By meticulously preparing for every detail of his absence. He drew up written policy reminders for each department head, and he approved all the spending clearances for an extra week. He confirmed the shift rotation, and he took extra care to bring in the new nurse a day early just to go over things with her. He made sure that Mikayla had his schedule well in hand, and he made several preemptive calls to any relevant party he could think of, making sure that his cell phone number was readily distributed in case of any need whatsoever.
As for overseeing the daily operation of the hospital, there was only one person he could think of to fill his shoes.
His best doctor. His most productive department head.
His best friend.
When she was called into his office, Helena looked somehow pleased. “I’d almost forgotten what this place looks like,” she mused coyly as she settled into the chair across from Will’s desk.
“I don’t like meeting in the office anyway,” Will said. “It’s too formal.”
Helena gave him a sardonic look. “So you’re going to sit there and pretend like you haven’t been avoiding me.”
Will sighed. Her comment was valid. She had been exceptionally professional about the whole situation, but the distance between them was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to give you space.”
She shrugged. “Those two things are basically the same.”
“Helena--”
She shook her head, smiling now. “I know, Will. I do. You’re trying to do the right thing, and it’s actually annoyingly valiant of you. I keep trying to dislike you for it, but you make it utterly impossible.”
“That’s why I’m giving you space,” Will said. “I mean, I’ve hated it, too, but if we feel this way--”
“Then maybe we should act on it?” she posited.
He shook his head. “Then we need to be careful.”
“Ah, yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “Careful. Of course. We’ll be careful to never talk to each other in private again.”
“Helena--”
“I just miss you,” she said, blurting it now. “Spending time with you, talking to you, laughing with you -- I mean, romance or not, it’s kind of spurious. I miss you, Will. And I will always be a professional with you, but I really want to be friends.”
Will felt his resolve start to crumble. This wasn’t what he’d called her in to talk about, but it was probably the conversation they really needed to have. It just wasn’t one he knew how to finish. “I want to be friends, too,” he said. “Helena, you’re the best. Spending time with you makes me so happy.”
“Again, not totally seeing why we’re having problems, then.”
He looked away, feeling his gut start to twist. “Because I don’t trust myself with it. I don’t balance it well -- caring for someone and doing the job. I get them all mixed up; I make bad choices.”
He paused, allowing himself to look at her fully.
“I can’t bring myself to risk your heart,” he said. “I can’t do it.”
She sat forward. “The problem is it’s my heart to risk,” she said. She shook her head and sat back. “But I know you, better than I want to sometimes. I know you’re not ready. And I know that’s not why I’m here.”
It was an invitation back to the point, and Will took it, both reluctant and grateful. “It’s not,” he agreed with a small, tight smile. “I have to go in for my yearly review. I was hoping to make it a day trip or two, but apparently they want something more in depth. I’ll be out for the week.”
Understanding dawned on her face, and she nodded. “So you want me to fill in? As Chief of Staff?”
Will lifted one shoulder at the obvious explanation. “You’re qualified and the most experienced.”
“Second most experienced,” she reminded him with mock seriousness. “Dr. Duvernay would strongly object otherwise.”
Will had to laugh. “And I think Dr. Duvernay would strongly object to the temporary posting.”
She wrinkled her nose, but tipped her head in agreement. “Probably.”
Will gathered a breath and reoriented his conversation. “You’re the obvious choice, Helena. You know how to do the job, and I think you’d be good at it.”
Helena grunted. “And you think I want it? All that administrative nonsense? I’m a surgeon, Will.”
“I know,” he said. “But I also know that you want what’s best for this hospital.”
She drew back, flattening her lips. “You can be such a self righteous bastard.”
He grinned at her. “So, can I trust you?”
“I hate that you even feel like you have to ask that,” she said, a little put off. “I mean, of course you can trust me. I’ve always been right there next to you, even when you didn’t want me.”
He felt his resolve start to break again. “Helena--”
She shook her head quickly. “I don’t mean it like that,” she said. “I mean to say of course I’ll do it. For the hospital. For you.”
She seemed to trail off, giving a helpless shrug as she looked at him.
His chest felt tight, and he wasn’t sure if it was regret, relief or something else. She was an amazing person, really, full of possibility.
Sitting there, across from her, Will realized they were full of possibility. “Thank you, Helena. For -- everything.”
Sitting back, her eyes locked with his, and her smile grew. “Anytime, Will. Seriously. Anytime.”
The air seemed to shift between them, and the emotion that had been so long suspended was almost palpable. With a breath, he felt anxiety and excitement, and a year of hard work and self control was suddenly good enough.
“Helena,” he said, sitting forward again as his breath caught in his throat. “When I get back, maybe we can get some coffee.”
Her smile crystallized, and she visibly went still. “With the rest of the surgical staff, you mean?”
Will shook his head, almost plaintive in his denial. “No,” he said. “Maybe just the two of us.”
She regarded him carefully before she spoke. “Do you really think so?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I really hope so.”
She got to her feet, smiling once more. “Maybe, then,” she said. “Let’s just see how you feel when you get back, eh?”
“Sure,” he said, getting up to see her to the door. He stopped there with her, close but not touching as their eyes met one more time. “When I get back.”
-o-
The natural trepidation that came with performance reviews was to be expected, but Will was surprised by how muted it seemed. Yes, he was struck with the idea that something terrible could happen -- and maybe should happen. He could still cycle through his choices over the last few months and come up with fifty places where he could have gone in a different direction. He found it important to remember that he was still pretty much an idiot, but admittedly, it was harder and harder to keep that in the forefront of his mind.
Because, no matter how he tried to play it down, things were going well -- and he knew it. There had been no disasters. His mistakes, though plentiful, had not resulted in catastrophe. People were happy. Patients were coming through the doors and going back out again. Money was being made. Will, by all accounts, was living up to the challenge, and he was forced to contend with the novel reality of hope.
Hope that things might continue as they are. Hope that things might actually get better.
At work -- and otherwise.
Therefore, as he packed up a small bag for his trip, he found himself humming. He grinned as he pressed out his suit and tie. It was the same paltry selection he’d worn before, but it didn’t look as dingy this time. When he boarded the train, the task did not feel as enormous as it used to.
In fact, as he settled in, he felt nearly comfortable. He knew what he was doing as he got off on the other end, taking a cab into the city to the same hotel as before. This time, he let himself enjoy it just slightly. He indulged in room service, and he even swam a few laps in the pool just to get some exercise. When he settled back in his room for the night -- ready for a bright and early morning -- he exchanged a few last texts with Jay.
Did they fire you yet? his brother quipped.
Will rolled his eyes, even if his brother couldn’t see the movement. That’s not funny.
Jay’s reply was fast. It’s a little funny.
This time, Will grinned. It was a little funny. A year later, and the truth didn’t hurt as much as it used to. He’d come to terms with his mistakes; he’d accepted his failures. Maybe this was what moving on felt like.
Still, he smirked. He wasn’t about to give his brother the satisfaction of being right. Don’t you have to go fight a crime somewhere?
I’m off duty today.
Then, isn’t there a wedding to plan?
Will had come to terms. He wasn’t so sure about Jay.
Hey, shut up.
If you dish it out, you got to take it back, bro.
Haha, whatever.
Will actually chuckled out loud before finishing his reply. I’ll text you tomorrow.
Good luck, Jay replied. Then, after a moment, he added one last message. Seriously.
Will stared at his phone for a little bit, still smiling to himself. He checked his email out of habit, and then opened an internet browser for no reason at all. With nothing to do, he closed out of it. Then, he went back to his messages. There was nothing new, of course, but he still had a few unanswered messages that he could respond to if he wanted. He flitted through them, considering a few replies.
He gave Mikayla a few approvals for things to sign and send out. He approved an overtime request, and he congratulated one of the attendings who needed to start her maternity leave. For specific shift questions over the next few days, he directed concerns to Helena as acting Chief of Staff.
He pulled up Helena’s number, and paused on the text string. Scrolling through it, the long string had both personal and professional matters. Mostly professional, lately -- by his choice, not hers. He thought about her, hoping that she was done for the day. She went to bed early; she liked scheduling early surgeries.
He could text her, and he could let her know what to expect. He could give her a heads up on the staffing issues. He could ask her how the day went. He could text her just to say he was thinking of her, that he missed her. He could tell her that he couldn’t wait to see her again.
But the cusp of potential was hard to discern from the brink of failure.
Was he good enough to handle this?
Had he come far enough?
Was it okay to let go?
Was he ready?
Would he make all the same mistakes? Or was he making all new ones?
The questions were paralyzing, and Will put the phone down and sighed as he flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was painfully awake now, the weariness resisting anything so practical as sleep. He knew he needed to be ready for tomorrow, and maybe that was the problem. He was ready.
He just wasn’t ready for anything else.
Suddenly, his phone pinged. Curious, he sat up and looked at it. To his surprise, it wasn’t Jay. it wasn’t Helena.
It was Natalie.
Hey. Just thinking of you.
And, despite everything -- his doubts, his hopes, his trepidations -- he smiled.
Hey, he replied, grinning now, so wide that it actually hurt. I’m thinking of you, too.
Because sometimes the answers you wanted were not the ones you needed.
And they were very rarely the ones you expected.
-o-
Sleep finally settled over him, and though Will was reluctant to let go, he was quite restful. He woke up the next morning, ready and almost eager. It was hard to say he was excited -- there was a fine line between anticipation and fear -- but Will gathered all his anxious energy and directed to the day ahead.
The hotel had a continental breakfast, and Will ate something hearty and healthy before stopping back up to brush his teeth and put on his tie. The meeting was thankfully early on the schedule, slated for 9 AM right here in one of the hotel conference rooms.
Nerves, anxiety or anticipation, Will was still early. He paced around outside the room for several minutes before he finally gave up the illusion of nonchalance and knocked. The door opened somewhat promptly, and Dr. Wexler greeted him with a smile.
“Dr. Halstead, we are so glad you could come,” Dr. Wexler said, welcoming into the room. It was set up with a table. There were three chairs on one side, and another sitting opposite. Dr. Ho was in one chair, and Adam was next to him. Will naturally deduced the opposite chair was for him.
He made his way to it with a smile. “Well, you did make all the arrangements,” he pointed out.
Dr. Wexler followed along back to her own chair. “I suppose we did,” she said. She gestured to the open chair while she took a seat in her own. “All the same, we do very much prefer to do these in person.”
“We find that giving feedback personally helps create a more positive work dynamic,” Dr. Ho said. “Dr. Wexler and I have served as supervisors for you for some time now, but Dr. Goshit asked if he could be included in your review. Given his position in the organization and his unique viewpoint on your work, we agreed. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” Will said, settling himself down and adjusting his tie with mild anxiety. He smiled and nodded at Adam. “Dr. Goshit.”
Adam was genuinely amused by the use of his full name. He returned in kind, eyes twinkling to allay any lingering concerns Will might have had. “Dr. Halstead.”
“Okay,” Dr. Wexler said, shifting through a pile of papers in front of her. “We will try not to belabor the points too much, but we do want to go over all that you’ve accomplished throughout the year. We’ll go over each placement, talk about any issues or concerns, and see where it leads.”
“We have already gotten written reviews from key personnel you have worked with just to give us extra insight,” Dr. Ho explained. “I believe we have statements from Dr. Dunst and a few other other colleagues.”
“Okay,” Will said. “However this is supposed to go, I’m here to help.”
“Very good, then,” Dr. Wexler said. She glanced down the table to Adam. “Dr. Goshit, as you were one of the key supervisors for Dr. Halstead in his first placement, perhaps you would like to start us off.”
Adam sat forward, clearing his throat. He looked out of place, donning his tie, but he winked at Will before he started, and Will felt himself relax even more.
“I have known Dr. Halstead for many years, as I have made it known in his file. He previously worked with our network in its early days 10 years ago,” Dr. Goshit said. “That first run ended prematurely, leaving some questions about his level of commitment. I know there were some concerns about offering him a second chance, but I stood by him as a candidate, and I believe his performance has proven me right.”
Adam shuffled his papers, but he wasn’t really looking at them. Will’s heart fluttered in his chest, but it was anxiety. This time, he knew it was pride.
“He started very strong, willing and eager to learn and grow,” Adam continued. “I was able to see him respond to increasing challenges smoothly, and his fast thinking made a huge impact on the ED, the hospital and ultimately the community. I knew early on that he had real leadership potential, and I was able to see him step into a leadership void naturally. I have always known Dr. Halstead to be a good doctor -- that was why I extended him a second chance -- but has proven himself to be a trustworthy leader as well. Lives would have been lost without him.”
And now, Adam grinned, and Will felt his chest swell.
“Having him in my ED was the best choice I ever made,” Adam concluded. “Impeccable skills as a doctor, exemplary leadership qualities and an important member of the hospital family. I could not have asked for more.”
Will couldn’t say he was surprised -- Adam was his friend, probably his best friend, and their time together had been good for both of them. If given the chance, he would add that much of his success could be attributed to Adam. So much of what he accomplished was due to the fact that Adam trusted him when he probably had no reason.
Dr. Ho and Dr. Wexler were nodding along in agreement, following along in their notes. “Clearly, you’ve grown up a lot since your first tour with us, Dr. Halstead,” Dr. Wexler said, smiling herself now. “We are most impressed.”
In a perfunctory fashion, Dr. Ho was the first to change his sheets. “Now that brings us to your second placement.”
“Yes,” Will said, adjusting himself in the seat. “Chief of the ED under Dr. Dunst.”
“Yes,” Dr. Wexler said, having flipped her page as well. “She has been...quite thorough with her notes and documentation.”
Adam snorted, just barely keeping himself from smirking. “Yes, she does have a very particular style.”
Adam was playing coy, but it wasn’t clear the other doctors picked up on it. Instead, Dr. Ho nodded. “Indeed she does. I know Karen Dunst well, so I was very surprised by the nature of her review of your tenure at her hospital.”
Will perked up a little at that. He knew his review of the second placement couldn’t be as good as the first -- not with Adam coming in personally to sing Will’s praises as a good friend would. He expected Karen to be more restrained, and likely more critical. The question was -- how critical had she been?
“Oh?” Will asked, trying to sound innocent in the query.
“She is very effusive in her praise,” Dr. Ho said.
“Extremely effusive,” Dr. Wexler concurred. “I’ve never read anything from her so precisely positive. She says that you are a bit too invested in the relational side of things but she cannot dispute your results. You took a very well run ED and made it exemplary. She called you, and I quote, the best doctor she’s worked with.”
“Oh,” Will said again, but this time the pretense was replaced with surprise. Suddenly, he felt awkward. “Well, I learned a lot from her about how to run a hospital.”
“Indeed,” Dr. Ho said. “And I realize I’m jumping ahead a little bit, but your affinity for leadership, as noted by both Dr. Goshit and Dr. Dunst, was realized in full during your final placement.”
He paused, shaking his head in apparent disbelief as he turned to one more page.
“I have to admit,” he said, as candid as Will had ever seen him. “I thought it was a mistake to send you there. Your first real test as an administrator, and you chose what was, by all accounts, a lost cause. That hospital was slated to be closed in one month’s time, but somehow, in all that, you salvaged it. You turned every department around, and now the entire hospital is operating with an actual profit margin.”
“And more than that,” Dr. Wexler enthused. “You turned it into a meaningful place for the community. It used to be the afterthought, the laughing stock. We were actually worried that the low caliber of care hurt our reputation. But now, it is attracting attention for the right reasons.”
Now, Will was just flustered. “I mean, I had a lot of help,” Will said. “The staff really stepped up to the plate, and every challenge I’ve set, they’ve met.”
“Yes, help that you rallied. Challenges that you set,” Dr. Ho said. “Our handling of the hospital didn’t change, but it was your specific leadership that made all the difference. You can treat patients. You can work well within an administrative structure. And now you’ve shown us that you know how to lead effectively.”
“All that being said, our only concerns are just the way in which you push yourself,” Dr. Wexler said, giving him a little shrug. “Every placement has noted that you spend most of your time at work, and it was the main criticism from Dr. Goshit. You seem to lack a bit of work-life balance.”
“I’m just trying to do the job,” Will said, almost reflexively defensive. But he nodded quickly, furrowing his brow. “But I understand the point. I’ve tried to make some time for myself, but admittedly, it hasn’t been the most natural part of the job.”
Dr. Wexler smiled fondly. “Well, it’s okay to have some weaknesses, Dr. Halstead,” she said. “And it’s just as well. We have already finalized the arrangements for your upcoming sabbatical, and that should give you plenty of time to reorient yourself.”
Despite the concerns he expressed to Jay, Will really did feel like he was getting ahold of these things. Meetings with the upper brass still made him a little nervous, but he was starting to get his confidence back, starting to remember that he was still a capable and functional person.
But this one, more than anything else he’d come face to face with while in Africa, caught him off guard.
After going over his work in detail, lauding his accomplishments and digging deeper into some of the obstacles, they had concluded that he had done excellent work and had earned their highest regards.
It was surreal, that was what it was. To think that Will had started this journey getting fired, and ended up here? Of all places, here? He had come here to do something, and he had ended up doing everything. He had sought to understand his failure, but instead he had found a new path to success.
It would have been a heady sensation were it not so overwhelming. Will couldn’t dare lose perspective. Not after he’d given up a whole year of his life to find it.
Then, just as Will was starting to feel like he had this all well in hand, Dr. Wexler said that they had arranged for his sabbatical starting immediately.
Will nodded along, trying to be deferential and compliant.
It wasn’t until a second later when the words caught up with him.
Like, really caught up with him.
“Wait,” he said, looking between Dr. Wexler, Dr. Ho and Adam. “Sabbatical?”
“Yes,” Dr. Wexler said. “For three months.”
She said it simple and matter of fact, and it all seemed to be a matter of course for Dr. Ho. Even Adam didn’t appear remotely surprised by this.
Which didn’t make sense. Will shook his head. The meeting had taken a turn he hadn’t anticipated -- indeed, one he couldn’t even wrap his mind around. “But I didn’t -- I mean, I’m sorry -- but I didn’t request a sabbatical.”
“Oh,” Dr. Wexler said, as if realizing for the first time that Will had no idea what she was talking about. “Perhaps you have forgotten. It is in the job offer. One of the benefits we extend to all service members is a yearly sabbatical. Most of the time, we opt for a simple nine months one, three months on, but Dr. Goshit was quite adamant that we needed an exception in your case, given how often you’ve changed assignments this year.”
Will latched onto that, nodding readily. “Yes, make an exception,” he said. “Because I’m much too invested at the moment to possibly step away.”
Dr. Ho looked up from the notes he was taking. “You misunderstand, Dr. Halstead,” he said. “We already made the exception, allowing your tour to extend over a year in the first place.”
Dr. Wexler nodded in agreement. “Now, you are cleared for three months,” she said. “You will continue to get a stipend during this time, and we will pay for one plane ticket two and from the continent, but the rest of your travel plans must be self supported, as I’m sure you can appreciate. We would like to provide more, especially in your case, but you know better than anyone how our finances are stretched.”
The financial realities were something Will was well aware of, having lived on the razor’s edge trying to balance them these last few months. This wasn’t a numbers game, though. Will’s logic was failing him, and it felt like someone had taken all the pieces to the puzzle he was building and thrown them on the floor right when the picture was almost in focus.
“If this is about finances, then I can save you the time and money,” he lobbied. “Just keep me on. No sabbatical. Keep me on.”
“We appreciate your passion, Dr. Halstead, but we put this policy in place with very good reason,” Dr. Wexler went on. “In our experience, we have found that people who work in stressful, high risk conditions need to have time off -- and not just time off. Time away. This is especially true in our network since we work with people who are often far from their homes and familiar. Ever since we implemented the mandatory sabbatical protocol, we have been effective at reducing our burnout rates across the board.”
All her logic and rationale -- it made sense. It did.
It just didn’t apply to him.
It couldn’t.
“I’m sure it has,” Will said. “But I’m not burned out.”
Even as he said it, he knew how it sounded. Like denial. Like a petulant child.
Adam’s eyes narrowed him. He wasn’t surprised, of course. And Will realized in a horrible moment that this, more than anything else, was why Adam had come. “You may not even realize it when you are,” he said gently. “I know you, Halstead. I know how hard you work, and I know better than anyone how much you give.”
Will’s heart was pounding now. The tightness had started to constrict his throat. “I’m fine,” he said -- he insisted. His eyes were bright as he locked his gaze on Adam. “For the first time in a long time, I think I’m actually fine.”
“You are more than fine, you are brilliant,” Adam said, not missing a beat or hesitating. “That is why we need you refreshed. If you stay on too long you are at risk for many, many things, my friend. So, go home. Take a few months. Then, if you want to come back, you can have any posting you like.”
Will stared hard at Adam, but his friend didn’t waver.
To his side, Dr. Ho intervened cautiously. “Ultimately, this is not a choice, Dr. Halstead,” he said. “The policy is clear in this case.”
Dr. Wexler offered him the most sympathetic take. “Trust us,” she said, sounding almost motherly in her approach. “This is for the best, and we want that for you.”
Will felt like his chest might burst, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He would fight with Adam -- and he would, to be sure -- but not with them. Dr. Ho and Dr. Wexler were his bosses, and Will had learned his place over the last year. He knew better than to take that for granted. He had blown it with Ms. Goodwin, burned that bridge, and he couldn’t do it now.
Swallowing hard, he forced his emotions back into check. Somehow, he drew upon his self control and managed to smile as he offered a short nod. “Okay,” he said, forcing his reluctant mouth to form the words through his constricted throat. He even managed a smile somehow as he nodded again. “Thank you.”
If they could tell just how uncomfortable this made him -- and Adam surely could, even if the others couldn’t -- they said nothing on the matter. Instead, Dr. Wexler stayed with her agenda. “We will have the paperwork making your review official sent to your hotel room. Please sign it, and have it returned to us for your file,” she said, shuffling the papers one more time. “We will also include your sabbatical paperwork with all the details you will need to make your plans.”
Will was still smiling by rote, frozen in the spot.
Dr. Ho inclined his head. “You are dismissed, Dr. Halstead.”
It was his permission to move, but Will didn’t dare let himself breathe until he got outside the room and the door was closed. In fact, he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down until he was already outside the hotel, blinking into the sunlight with his burning eyes, trying to catch his breath.
From behind him, he heard a noise. “Halstead!”
Will inhaled greedily, trying and failing to regain something like composure.
“Halstead!”
When he turned, Adam had caught up to him.
“Halstead,” Adam said, slightly breathless as he came up.
Will’s self control had slipped now, and this was Adam -- and Will had nothing left to hide with him. He shook his head, working his jaw as his response formed. “Are you serious right now? Are you actually serious?”
“Halstead, just listen--”
“No,” Will objected. He’d always played nice with Adam. He’d given Adam the space to take the lead, and he’d been a loyal right-hand man, an impeccable best friend. But right now, he couldn’t. “This is ridiculous.”
Adam scoffed at him. “This is nothing but standard procedure. To most people, the sabbatical is a perk of the job -- including me.”
But Will wasn’t about to be placated. Adam knew him well enough to know what this meant to him. “You have to go back in there and tell them to let me stay.”
“I will not,” Adam said, with a touch of indignance in his words.
Will gritted his teeth. “Adam--”
Will was standing his ground, but so was Adam. For all that Adam could seem like a happy-go-lucky guy, he had real mettle to him. He could be the toughest son of a bitch Will knew, when it mattered.
For some reason, to Adam, it mattered now. “Halstead, I am the one who insisted they make you take it,” he said. “I came to make sure it happened. They were going to give you the exception you so clearly wanted, but I refused.”
Will had suspected as much back inside. Yet, it still hurt to hear, and his emotions were wearing thin against the veil of whatever was left of his self control. “But why? I’m good at this.”
“You are,” Adam said with an emphatic bob of his head. “But you are not just some doctor to me, like you are to them. You are my friend, Halstead. And I know you. And you need the break.”
He jabbed his finger at Will’s chest to make his point.
Will, though, stood without flinching. “No, I don’t.”
“You have been working nonstop for a year,” Adam reasoned. “You have been beaten and hot, you have worked the worst hours imaginable. You have lifted an entire hospital from the ashes almost entirely on your own. You have done enough.”
Will was nothing if not stubborn. He had changed in a lot of ways, but not in that way. “There’s still more to do.”
Adam had never been cowed by Will’s tenacity, though. In fact, it was only eclipsed by Adam’s own. “Yes, there will always be more to do.”
“We are doctors -- we fix people,” Will pleaded now.
Adam gave him a short, incredulous look. “And someone then must fix you!”
Will drew back, almost as if he’d been hit.
Adam sighed, and collected himself. “Halstead, I know you are here looking for something. Absolution. Restoration. Confidence in yourself. I do not know for sure what, but I have watched you this year. I have watched you find all that -- and more.”
“Then why not let me stay?” Will asked, rounding on him again.
Adam did not sway, however. He stood his ground. “Because everyone can see it except you,” he said. “Everyone else knows you have succeeded, but you still believe there is something to prove. It is my hope that if you go home, go to your brother, you will get the perspective you need.”
Will shook his head, stepping back with his jaw tight. “I came here for perspective.”
“And you got it,” Adam said. “But I do not think you understand it.”
Will looked away, face feeling hot. His heart was pounding, and the emotions left him raw.
Adam drew closer to him again. “I know this upsets you, but no one is punishing you. So why are you punishing yourself?”
The question was too telling, maybe. Will felt his anger break, and the grief swelled up. His eyes were burning when he looked at Adam again. “Maybe I’m scared,” he admitted. “Because I don’t know what comes next.”
Adam took him by the shoulder, shaking him with powerful reassurance. “All the more reason to face this fear like you have faced so many others this past year,” he said. “All the things, and this is the one that threatens to break you?”
Will had to laugh, because it was ludicrous. All he'd done over the past year, and he’d believed there was nothing he couldn’t face. But he had come here for a reason. It was time to figure out what that was, once and for all.
Finally, he nodded, allowing himself to exhale. “It’s just three months, right?” he asked.
Adam let him go, grinning now. “It’s only three months.”
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
-o-
After Helena left, Will felt numb. He got dressed with stiff fingers, and he barely remembered what he was even doing. On autopilot, he left for the night, nodding a perfunctory goodbye to all his staff members as he left.
It was late, and Will was tired and sore, but he still walked home. Looking up at the streetlights, he wondered if Helena had made it home by now. Then, he remembered that it wasn’t his right to wonder.
But he did.
He wondered about what he was even doing anymore.
Nearly a full year, he’d been here. All this time, all this effort -- and for what? He’d done good work -- he’d done important work -- and he wanted to think he’d grown. But had he? Where was the evidence? Was he still here making all the same mistakes? Or had he just learned to make all new ones?
Suddenly, the progress over the past year didn’t feel all that substantial. The jobs weren’t that impressive. The work wasn’t that important. He was still the same guy.
The same flawed idiot he’d always been.
Had he changed at all? Had he learned anything? How would he even know if he did?
The futility of it was suddenly overwhelming. When he got back to his place, his fingers were shaking so badly that he could barely open the door. He was starving, but didn’t have the motivation to eat, and it took too much effort to make it to the bed. Instead, he crashed down on the couch, sitting and staring vacantly at the wall.
He was supposed to be getting somewhere with all of this. It was supposed to have a purpose.
But what if it had all been a way to punish himself?
What if he’d just spent the entire year engaging in overt self flagellation?
What if that was what was necessary? What if that was what the rest of his life was supposed to be?
Did he deserve to be happy?
Did he really?
Because there had been moments, of course. He’d had moments of pure joy over the past year. Spending time with Adam. Running the ER for Dr. Dunst. Falling in love with Helena.
He’d fallen in love with her.
The clarity of the realization cut him like a scalpel to the chest.
He wasn’t sure what love meant, in this case, and he didn’t know where it could even lead. But he could find out.
He could pick up his phone right now and call her and just find out, once and for all.
Except, it wasn’t that simple.
Sitting there, staring listlessly at the wall, Will knew he couldn’t start something new. He had come to Africa to finish things. He had to find closure -- whatever that was -- and until then, he wouldn’t be ready for anything new. And he couldn’t risk Helena’s heart in this. He had to tie up his loose ends first.
That thought made him pause.
His loose ends were more than professional. He’d built meaningful relationships with colleagues. He’d learned to work within the boundaries defined by a superior. He’d managed to take on responsibility like a true leader, providing moderated and meaningful guidance. He’d learned to follow rules. He’d learned to understand the rules. He’d learned about honesty, being a team player -- all of it.
So what was left?
What loose ends were flapping in the wind?
Love.
He’d let his attachment to Natalie throw him off track. He’d been willing to throw away his future with Sabeena, he’d compromised the trial, he’d risked his own career -- for her. Only for her.
He wasn’t naive when it came to that. If it had been anyone else -- literally anyone else -- he wouldn’t have done it. He would have found another way.
But it was Natalie.
The woman who had worn his mother’s ring. The one he’d planned a future with. She’d been waiting for him at the church, ready to promise to love, honor and protect. He’d left her standing there, and that was on him. Maybe covering up for her was a way to rectify that. Maybe he still loved her. Maybe it was just a story that didn’t have the ending written yet.
Loose ends.
Will had come to finish what he’d started. He’d left everything he loved to tie up the loose ends of his life. Professionally, he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t making progress. His friendships, his professional relationship -- they were falling into line.
But romance.
But love.
He couldn’t move on with Helena.
He’d fought against it, he’d tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t move on.
Not when he hadn’t really let Natalie go.
Sitting there, the inception of the idea came into focus slowly, almost reluctantly. Perhaps he was truly realizing it here, or maybe he’d known it all along. All the chapters of his life that he’d been closing, and this one was waving wide open. It was a loose end, one that might unravel everything else he’d worked for if he didn’t pull it just right.
He had to make things right with Natalie. He had to come to terms, make peace.
If he called, he was sure she’d answer. She’d probably be glad to talk to him.
But what would he say? What did he want to say? What did he need to say?
He’d come a long way this year, but he wasn’t sure he’d come that far.
Maybe he never would.
Because some things could change.
Other things, though -- Will still just wasn’t sure.
Closing his eyes, he put the impetus away.
This was a loose end he would have to tie off another day.
-o-
The decision was made, and all of Will’s self control was tied up in it. He felt precarious, somehow, as though his emotions were just barely in check. He laid on the couch all night, but he didn’t quite sleep. He woke up, having rested the entire time, but not feeling rested at all.
It was the same pervasive listlessness he remembered, the one that had nearly paralyzed him after being fired.
Work had been his salvation then.
It was the only hope he had now, too.
His emotions felt blunted by shock as he got up and readied himself for the day. He was back to going through the motions. One task at a time.
Getting into work, he felt some trepidation, but Helena was true to her word. When he saw her the next morning, she was bright and chipper as ever. She showed no lingering signs that their conversation had changed things for her, and her amazing ability to understand him did make him wonder if he was being too hasty. She was offering complete acceptance, and that was almost more tantalizing than anything else.
But it wasn’t fair to Helena. He understood the protocol for not dating people who work for you; it made things too complicated. Now that he knew that she loved him, he was responsible for her heart. He’d never intended to lead her on, but Will had trailed after Natalie long enough to know how these things worked.
Moving forward, he just had to be careful. He had to greet her professionally. From here on out, there were no more private lunches. Instead, he always ate in the cafeteria with as many surgeons as possible. He started doing lunch with groups instead of one-on-one. They still worked together, but Will avoided the locker room. He was the boss; it only made sense.
The changes were small, and they were well within the boundaries of professional protocol, but Helena was too smart not to understand. Sometimes, she lingered after him and Will wanted to go to her. Sometimes, her hand brushed against his in a trauma and Will felt his heart stop. Sometimes, when they laughed, it was like all the world was theirs and he didn’t care about the loose ends trailing after him.
But Will had changed. He was resolved, now.
He had to remember his priorities. He had to remember why he’d come. And he couldn’t afford to let Helena be his collateral damage, no matter how willing they both seemed to be on that front.
Will was in the business of saving lives.
That was what this started with.
He promised himself that was what it was going to end with as well.
-o-
Will found his rhythm.
Not as happy as he used to be, but just as productive. Maybe not as personally satisfied, but professionally flourishing. He was making progress, at least.
On what, he wasn’t always sure.
But on something.
He had to believe it was all for something.
-o-
Then, one day, out of nowhere, he got a call from Dr. Wexler. As a supervisory member of the board, Dr. Wexler had been assigned as his primary point person. When she called, her calls always went through, and he always answered.
Usually, the calls were perfunctory, going over the latest numbers or some type of policy or staffing change. Today, it was different.
“My annual review?” Will asked, somehow surprised. “I don’t understand.”
“Oh, please don’t be alarmed,” Dr. Wexler assured him quickly over the call. “It’s standard procedure for all our employees at all levels. We take our investment in personnel very seriously, I’m sure you understand by now.”
“Sure,” Will said. “But--”
He tried to wrap his mind around it.
A year?
Had it really been a year.
“I guess I just lost track of time,” Will admitted, not sure how to get ahold of his confusion. “Will we schedule a call?”
“For many employees, yes,” Dr. Wexler said. “But for higher level positions, we prefer to do them in person.”
Will hesitated.
Dr. Wexler picked up on it immediately. “Again, don’t be alarmed.” she said. “I don’t think I’m spoiling anything when I say I expect your review to go quite well.”
“I guess,” Will said, feeling less and less certain by the minute.
“Anyway, I have already cleared your schedule with your assistant,” Dr. Wexler continued brightly. “We will book you a flight for next Tuesday, and you can expect to stay through the weekend.”
Will was even more dismayed now. “The weekend?”
“The review will be for two or three days, mostly to go over different facets of your tenure,” she said. “And we thought you might like to enjoy a holiday at the same time. You haven’t used any of your time off--”
“That’s not necessary, Dr. Wexler--”
“Dr. Halstead, please. I insist,” she said.
“Okay, then,” he said, feeling like he couldn’t object.
“Wonderful,” she said cheerily. “See you next Tuesday.”
-o-
As Chief of Staff, Will had been unwavering. He’d barely taken a day off, and he tended to come in on weekends even when he wasn’t scheduled to have a shift. He had made the hospital his life, in essence. He’d neither wanted nor needed a respite.
Now that one was being foisted upon him, he found himself anxious. How would things operate without him? Would all the policies he put in place fall apart? What if something happened? What if there was a crisis?
He was so vexed by the possibility of everything going wrong that he could barely make plans to leave. He tried to get out of the meeting several times, contacting Dr. Wexler and Dr. Ho separately, citing concerns about hospital operations, but both of them insisted that his presence was mandatory. He consulted Adam, who rolled his eyes on the video call and told Will that the hospital could survive just fine without him.
Jay was the worst one of all. When he told his brother his review was coming up, he had the audacity to act like it was a vacation. “You need to get away,” he said. “You’ve been working way too hard.”
“Well, it’s a big job,” Will said. “I’ve got a new nurse starting, and we’re getting some psychiatric training materials. I haven’t been able to finesse the budget enough for a full time staff member, but I might be able to get someone part time--”
“I’m not even listening to you,” Jay said. “Just take the vacation.”
“It’s a review,” Will told him sullenly. “They could fire me.”
“Right, the guy who literally turned a dying hospital into a profitable venture,” Jay said. “Definitely sounds like grounds for termination.”
“I could have done something wrong--”
“Will, you didn’t,” he said. “If you had, I’d be the first one to tell you, but you haven’t. Do you really not see how much you’ve changed?”
“I can’t see anything,” Will said. “I just feel -- I don’t know. I just feel like it’s unsettled.”
“No, you feel unsettled,” Jay pointed out to him. “Things are fine. You just have to believe it. So this review may do you good.”
Will drew his brows together in consternation. “I still think I could get fired.”
He could practically hear Jay rolling his eyes. “Just call me when it’s done,” he said. “And try not to be too mopey leading up to it, okay?”
Jay was incorrigible, but that was just the way his brother was. Will knew he meant well, and he wouldn’t fault his brother’s good intentions. It was still something he missed about Chicago -- one thing of many: having his brother always at his back.
When he deserved it.
And especially when he didn’t.
-o-
With no way out, Will accepted the inevitability as best he could.
By meticulously preparing for every detail of his absence. He drew up written policy reminders for each department head, and he approved all the spending clearances for an extra week. He confirmed the shift rotation, and he took extra care to bring in the new nurse a day early just to go over things with her. He made sure that Mikayla had his schedule well in hand, and he made several preemptive calls to any relevant party he could think of, making sure that his cell phone number was readily distributed in case of any need whatsoever.
As for overseeing the daily operation of the hospital, there was only one person he could think of to fill his shoes.
His best doctor. His most productive department head.
His best friend.
When she was called into his office, Helena looked somehow pleased. “I’d almost forgotten what this place looks like,” she mused coyly as she settled into the chair across from Will’s desk.
“I don’t like meeting in the office anyway,” Will said. “It’s too formal.”
Helena gave him a sardonic look. “So you’re going to sit there and pretend like you haven’t been avoiding me.”
Will sighed. Her comment was valid. She had been exceptionally professional about the whole situation, but the distance between them was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to give you space.”
She shrugged. “Those two things are basically the same.”
“Helena--”
She shook her head, smiling now. “I know, Will. I do. You’re trying to do the right thing, and it’s actually annoyingly valiant of you. I keep trying to dislike you for it, but you make it utterly impossible.”
“That’s why I’m giving you space,” Will said. “I mean, I’ve hated it, too, but if we feel this way--”
“Then maybe we should act on it?” she posited.
He shook his head. “Then we need to be careful.”
“Ah, yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “Careful. Of course. We’ll be careful to never talk to each other in private again.”
“Helena--”
“I just miss you,” she said, blurting it now. “Spending time with you, talking to you, laughing with you -- I mean, romance or not, it’s kind of spurious. I miss you, Will. And I will always be a professional with you, but I really want to be friends.”
Will felt his resolve start to crumble. This wasn’t what he’d called her in to talk about, but it was probably the conversation they really needed to have. It just wasn’t one he knew how to finish. “I want to be friends, too,” he said. “Helena, you’re the best. Spending time with you makes me so happy.”
“Again, not totally seeing why we’re having problems, then.”
He looked away, feeling his gut start to twist. “Because I don’t trust myself with it. I don’t balance it well -- caring for someone and doing the job. I get them all mixed up; I make bad choices.”
He paused, allowing himself to look at her fully.
“I can’t bring myself to risk your heart,” he said. “I can’t do it.”
She sat forward. “The problem is it’s my heart to risk,” she said. She shook her head and sat back. “But I know you, better than I want to sometimes. I know you’re not ready. And I know that’s not why I’m here.”
It was an invitation back to the point, and Will took it, both reluctant and grateful. “It’s not,” he agreed with a small, tight smile. “I have to go in for my yearly review. I was hoping to make it a day trip or two, but apparently they want something more in depth. I’ll be out for the week.”
Understanding dawned on her face, and she nodded. “So you want me to fill in? As Chief of Staff?”
Will lifted one shoulder at the obvious explanation. “You’re qualified and the most experienced.”
“Second most experienced,” she reminded him with mock seriousness. “Dr. Duvernay would strongly object otherwise.”
Will had to laugh. “And I think Dr. Duvernay would strongly object to the temporary posting.”
She wrinkled her nose, but tipped her head in agreement. “Probably.”
Will gathered a breath and reoriented his conversation. “You’re the obvious choice, Helena. You know how to do the job, and I think you’d be good at it.”
Helena grunted. “And you think I want it? All that administrative nonsense? I’m a surgeon, Will.”
“I know,” he said. “But I also know that you want what’s best for this hospital.”
She drew back, flattening her lips. “You can be such a self righteous bastard.”
He grinned at her. “So, can I trust you?”
“I hate that you even feel like you have to ask that,” she said, a little put off. “I mean, of course you can trust me. I’ve always been right there next to you, even when you didn’t want me.”
He felt his resolve start to break again. “Helena--”
She shook her head quickly. “I don’t mean it like that,” she said. “I mean to say of course I’ll do it. For the hospital. For you.”
She seemed to trail off, giving a helpless shrug as she looked at him.
His chest felt tight, and he wasn’t sure if it was regret, relief or something else. She was an amazing person, really, full of possibility.
Sitting there, across from her, Will realized they were full of possibility. “Thank you, Helena. For -- everything.”
Sitting back, her eyes locked with his, and her smile grew. “Anytime, Will. Seriously. Anytime.”
The air seemed to shift between them, and the emotion that had been so long suspended was almost palpable. With a breath, he felt anxiety and excitement, and a year of hard work and self control was suddenly good enough.
“Helena,” he said, sitting forward again as his breath caught in his throat. “When I get back, maybe we can get some coffee.”
Her smile crystallized, and she visibly went still. “With the rest of the surgical staff, you mean?”
Will shook his head, almost plaintive in his denial. “No,” he said. “Maybe just the two of us.”
She regarded him carefully before she spoke. “Do you really think so?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I really hope so.”
She got to her feet, smiling once more. “Maybe, then,” she said. “Let’s just see how you feel when you get back, eh?”
“Sure,” he said, getting up to see her to the door. He stopped there with her, close but not touching as their eyes met one more time. “When I get back.”
-o-
The natural trepidation that came with performance reviews was to be expected, but Will was surprised by how muted it seemed. Yes, he was struck with the idea that something terrible could happen -- and maybe should happen. He could still cycle through his choices over the last few months and come up with fifty places where he could have gone in a different direction. He found it important to remember that he was still pretty much an idiot, but admittedly, it was harder and harder to keep that in the forefront of his mind.
Because, no matter how he tried to play it down, things were going well -- and he knew it. There had been no disasters. His mistakes, though plentiful, had not resulted in catastrophe. People were happy. Patients were coming through the doors and going back out again. Money was being made. Will, by all accounts, was living up to the challenge, and he was forced to contend with the novel reality of hope.
Hope that things might continue as they are. Hope that things might actually get better.
At work -- and otherwise.
Therefore, as he packed up a small bag for his trip, he found himself humming. He grinned as he pressed out his suit and tie. It was the same paltry selection he’d worn before, but it didn’t look as dingy this time. When he boarded the train, the task did not feel as enormous as it used to.
In fact, as he settled in, he felt nearly comfortable. He knew what he was doing as he got off on the other end, taking a cab into the city to the same hotel as before. This time, he let himself enjoy it just slightly. He indulged in room service, and he even swam a few laps in the pool just to get some exercise. When he settled back in his room for the night -- ready for a bright and early morning -- he exchanged a few last texts with Jay.
Did they fire you yet? his brother quipped.
Will rolled his eyes, even if his brother couldn’t see the movement. That’s not funny.
Jay’s reply was fast. It’s a little funny.
This time, Will grinned. It was a little funny. A year later, and the truth didn’t hurt as much as it used to. He’d come to terms with his mistakes; he’d accepted his failures. Maybe this was what moving on felt like.
Still, he smirked. He wasn’t about to give his brother the satisfaction of being right. Don’t you have to go fight a crime somewhere?
I’m off duty today.
Then, isn’t there a wedding to plan?
Will had come to terms. He wasn’t so sure about Jay.
Hey, shut up.
If you dish it out, you got to take it back, bro.
Haha, whatever.
Will actually chuckled out loud before finishing his reply. I’ll text you tomorrow.
Good luck, Jay replied. Then, after a moment, he added one last message. Seriously.
Will stared at his phone for a little bit, still smiling to himself. He checked his email out of habit, and then opened an internet browser for no reason at all. With nothing to do, he closed out of it. Then, he went back to his messages. There was nothing new, of course, but he still had a few unanswered messages that he could respond to if he wanted. He flitted through them, considering a few replies.
He gave Mikayla a few approvals for things to sign and send out. He approved an overtime request, and he congratulated one of the attendings who needed to start her maternity leave. For specific shift questions over the next few days, he directed concerns to Helena as acting Chief of Staff.
He pulled up Helena’s number, and paused on the text string. Scrolling through it, the long string had both personal and professional matters. Mostly professional, lately -- by his choice, not hers. He thought about her, hoping that she was done for the day. She went to bed early; she liked scheduling early surgeries.
He could text her, and he could let her know what to expect. He could give her a heads up on the staffing issues. He could ask her how the day went. He could text her just to say he was thinking of her, that he missed her. He could tell her that he couldn’t wait to see her again.
But the cusp of potential was hard to discern from the brink of failure.
Was he good enough to handle this?
Had he come far enough?
Was it okay to let go?
Was he ready?
Would he make all the same mistakes? Or was he making all new ones?
The questions were paralyzing, and Will put the phone down and sighed as he flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was painfully awake now, the weariness resisting anything so practical as sleep. He knew he needed to be ready for tomorrow, and maybe that was the problem. He was ready.
He just wasn’t ready for anything else.
Suddenly, his phone pinged. Curious, he sat up and looked at it. To his surprise, it wasn’t Jay. it wasn’t Helena.
It was Natalie.
Hey. Just thinking of you.
And, despite everything -- his doubts, his hopes, his trepidations -- he smiled.
Hey, he replied, grinning now, so wide that it actually hurt. I’m thinking of you, too.
Because sometimes the answers you wanted were not the ones you needed.
And they were very rarely the ones you expected.
-o-
Sleep finally settled over him, and though Will was reluctant to let go, he was quite restful. He woke up the next morning, ready and almost eager. It was hard to say he was excited -- there was a fine line between anticipation and fear -- but Will gathered all his anxious energy and directed to the day ahead.
The hotel had a continental breakfast, and Will ate something hearty and healthy before stopping back up to brush his teeth and put on his tie. The meeting was thankfully early on the schedule, slated for 9 AM right here in one of the hotel conference rooms.
Nerves, anxiety or anticipation, Will was still early. He paced around outside the room for several minutes before he finally gave up the illusion of nonchalance and knocked. The door opened somewhat promptly, and Dr. Wexler greeted him with a smile.
“Dr. Halstead, we are so glad you could come,” Dr. Wexler said, welcoming into the room. It was set up with a table. There were three chairs on one side, and another sitting opposite. Dr. Ho was in one chair, and Adam was next to him. Will naturally deduced the opposite chair was for him.
He made his way to it with a smile. “Well, you did make all the arrangements,” he pointed out.
Dr. Wexler followed along back to her own chair. “I suppose we did,” she said. She gestured to the open chair while she took a seat in her own. “All the same, we do very much prefer to do these in person.”
“We find that giving feedback personally helps create a more positive work dynamic,” Dr. Ho said. “Dr. Wexler and I have served as supervisors for you for some time now, but Dr. Goshit asked if he could be included in your review. Given his position in the organization and his unique viewpoint on your work, we agreed. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” Will said, settling himself down and adjusting his tie with mild anxiety. He smiled and nodded at Adam. “Dr. Goshit.”
Adam was genuinely amused by the use of his full name. He returned in kind, eyes twinkling to allay any lingering concerns Will might have had. “Dr. Halstead.”
“Okay,” Dr. Wexler said, shifting through a pile of papers in front of her. “We will try not to belabor the points too much, but we do want to go over all that you’ve accomplished throughout the year. We’ll go over each placement, talk about any issues or concerns, and see where it leads.”
“We have already gotten written reviews from key personnel you have worked with just to give us extra insight,” Dr. Ho explained. “I believe we have statements from Dr. Dunst and a few other other colleagues.”
“Okay,” Will said. “However this is supposed to go, I’m here to help.”
“Very good, then,” Dr. Wexler said. She glanced down the table to Adam. “Dr. Goshit, as you were one of the key supervisors for Dr. Halstead in his first placement, perhaps you would like to start us off.”
Adam sat forward, clearing his throat. He looked out of place, donning his tie, but he winked at Will before he started, and Will felt himself relax even more.
“I have known Dr. Halstead for many years, as I have made it known in his file. He previously worked with our network in its early days 10 years ago,” Dr. Goshit said. “That first run ended prematurely, leaving some questions about his level of commitment. I know there were some concerns about offering him a second chance, but I stood by him as a candidate, and I believe his performance has proven me right.”
Adam shuffled his papers, but he wasn’t really looking at them. Will’s heart fluttered in his chest, but it was anxiety. This time, he knew it was pride.
“He started very strong, willing and eager to learn and grow,” Adam continued. “I was able to see him respond to increasing challenges smoothly, and his fast thinking made a huge impact on the ED, the hospital and ultimately the community. I knew early on that he had real leadership potential, and I was able to see him step into a leadership void naturally. I have always known Dr. Halstead to be a good doctor -- that was why I extended him a second chance -- but has proven himself to be a trustworthy leader as well. Lives would have been lost without him.”
And now, Adam grinned, and Will felt his chest swell.
“Having him in my ED was the best choice I ever made,” Adam concluded. “Impeccable skills as a doctor, exemplary leadership qualities and an important member of the hospital family. I could not have asked for more.”
Will couldn’t say he was surprised -- Adam was his friend, probably his best friend, and their time together had been good for both of them. If given the chance, he would add that much of his success could be attributed to Adam. So much of what he accomplished was due to the fact that Adam trusted him when he probably had no reason.
Dr. Ho and Dr. Wexler were nodding along in agreement, following along in their notes. “Clearly, you’ve grown up a lot since your first tour with us, Dr. Halstead,” Dr. Wexler said, smiling herself now. “We are most impressed.”
In a perfunctory fashion, Dr. Ho was the first to change his sheets. “Now that brings us to your second placement.”
“Yes,” Will said, adjusting himself in the seat. “Chief of the ED under Dr. Dunst.”
“Yes,” Dr. Wexler said, having flipped her page as well. “She has been...quite thorough with her notes and documentation.”
Adam snorted, just barely keeping himself from smirking. “Yes, she does have a very particular style.”
Adam was playing coy, but it wasn’t clear the other doctors picked up on it. Instead, Dr. Ho nodded. “Indeed she does. I know Karen Dunst well, so I was very surprised by the nature of her review of your tenure at her hospital.”
Will perked up a little at that. He knew his review of the second placement couldn’t be as good as the first -- not with Adam coming in personally to sing Will’s praises as a good friend would. He expected Karen to be more restrained, and likely more critical. The question was -- how critical had she been?
“Oh?” Will asked, trying to sound innocent in the query.
“She is very effusive in her praise,” Dr. Ho said.
“Extremely effusive,” Dr. Wexler concurred. “I’ve never read anything from her so precisely positive. She says that you are a bit too invested in the relational side of things but she cannot dispute your results. You took a very well run ED and made it exemplary. She called you, and I quote, the best doctor she’s worked with.”
“Oh,” Will said again, but this time the pretense was replaced with surprise. Suddenly, he felt awkward. “Well, I learned a lot from her about how to run a hospital.”
“Indeed,” Dr. Ho said. “And I realize I’m jumping ahead a little bit, but your affinity for leadership, as noted by both Dr. Goshit and Dr. Dunst, was realized in full during your final placement.”
He paused, shaking his head in apparent disbelief as he turned to one more page.
“I have to admit,” he said, as candid as Will had ever seen him. “I thought it was a mistake to send you there. Your first real test as an administrator, and you chose what was, by all accounts, a lost cause. That hospital was slated to be closed in one month’s time, but somehow, in all that, you salvaged it. You turned every department around, and now the entire hospital is operating with an actual profit margin.”
“And more than that,” Dr. Wexler enthused. “You turned it into a meaningful place for the community. It used to be the afterthought, the laughing stock. We were actually worried that the low caliber of care hurt our reputation. But now, it is attracting attention for the right reasons.”
Now, Will was just flustered. “I mean, I had a lot of help,” Will said. “The staff really stepped up to the plate, and every challenge I’ve set, they’ve met.”
“Yes, help that you rallied. Challenges that you set,” Dr. Ho said. “Our handling of the hospital didn’t change, but it was your specific leadership that made all the difference. You can treat patients. You can work well within an administrative structure. And now you’ve shown us that you know how to lead effectively.”
“All that being said, our only concerns are just the way in which you push yourself,” Dr. Wexler said, giving him a little shrug. “Every placement has noted that you spend most of your time at work, and it was the main criticism from Dr. Goshit. You seem to lack a bit of work-life balance.”
“I’m just trying to do the job,” Will said, almost reflexively defensive. But he nodded quickly, furrowing his brow. “But I understand the point. I’ve tried to make some time for myself, but admittedly, it hasn’t been the most natural part of the job.”
Dr. Wexler smiled fondly. “Well, it’s okay to have some weaknesses, Dr. Halstead,” she said. “And it’s just as well. We have already finalized the arrangements for your upcoming sabbatical, and that should give you plenty of time to reorient yourself.”
Despite the concerns he expressed to Jay, Will really did feel like he was getting ahold of these things. Meetings with the upper brass still made him a little nervous, but he was starting to get his confidence back, starting to remember that he was still a capable and functional person.
But this one, more than anything else he’d come face to face with while in Africa, caught him off guard.
After going over his work in detail, lauding his accomplishments and digging deeper into some of the obstacles, they had concluded that he had done excellent work and had earned their highest regards.
It was surreal, that was what it was. To think that Will had started this journey getting fired, and ended up here? Of all places, here? He had come here to do something, and he had ended up doing everything. He had sought to understand his failure, but instead he had found a new path to success.
It would have been a heady sensation were it not so overwhelming. Will couldn’t dare lose perspective. Not after he’d given up a whole year of his life to find it.
Then, just as Will was starting to feel like he had this all well in hand, Dr. Wexler said that they had arranged for his sabbatical starting immediately.
Will nodded along, trying to be deferential and compliant.
It wasn’t until a second later when the words caught up with him.
Like, really caught up with him.
“Wait,” he said, looking between Dr. Wexler, Dr. Ho and Adam. “Sabbatical?”
“Yes,” Dr. Wexler said. “For three months.”
She said it simple and matter of fact, and it all seemed to be a matter of course for Dr. Ho. Even Adam didn’t appear remotely surprised by this.
Which didn’t make sense. Will shook his head. The meeting had taken a turn he hadn’t anticipated -- indeed, one he couldn’t even wrap his mind around. “But I didn’t -- I mean, I’m sorry -- but I didn’t request a sabbatical.”
“Oh,” Dr. Wexler said, as if realizing for the first time that Will had no idea what she was talking about. “Perhaps you have forgotten. It is in the job offer. One of the benefits we extend to all service members is a yearly sabbatical. Most of the time, we opt for a simple nine months one, three months on, but Dr. Goshit was quite adamant that we needed an exception in your case, given how often you’ve changed assignments this year.”
Will latched onto that, nodding readily. “Yes, make an exception,” he said. “Because I’m much too invested at the moment to possibly step away.”
Dr. Ho looked up from the notes he was taking. “You misunderstand, Dr. Halstead,” he said. “We already made the exception, allowing your tour to extend over a year in the first place.”
Dr. Wexler nodded in agreement. “Now, you are cleared for three months,” she said. “You will continue to get a stipend during this time, and we will pay for one plane ticket two and from the continent, but the rest of your travel plans must be self supported, as I’m sure you can appreciate. We would like to provide more, especially in your case, but you know better than anyone how our finances are stretched.”
The financial realities were something Will was well aware of, having lived on the razor’s edge trying to balance them these last few months. This wasn’t a numbers game, though. Will’s logic was failing him, and it felt like someone had taken all the pieces to the puzzle he was building and thrown them on the floor right when the picture was almost in focus.
“If this is about finances, then I can save you the time and money,” he lobbied. “Just keep me on. No sabbatical. Keep me on.”
“We appreciate your passion, Dr. Halstead, but we put this policy in place with very good reason,” Dr. Wexler went on. “In our experience, we have found that people who work in stressful, high risk conditions need to have time off -- and not just time off. Time away. This is especially true in our network since we work with people who are often far from their homes and familiar. Ever since we implemented the mandatory sabbatical protocol, we have been effective at reducing our burnout rates across the board.”
All her logic and rationale -- it made sense. It did.
It just didn’t apply to him.
It couldn’t.
“I’m sure it has,” Will said. “But I’m not burned out.”
Even as he said it, he knew how it sounded. Like denial. Like a petulant child.
Adam’s eyes narrowed him. He wasn’t surprised, of course. And Will realized in a horrible moment that this, more than anything else, was why Adam had come. “You may not even realize it when you are,” he said gently. “I know you, Halstead. I know how hard you work, and I know better than anyone how much you give.”
Will’s heart was pounding now. The tightness had started to constrict his throat. “I’m fine,” he said -- he insisted. His eyes were bright as he locked his gaze on Adam. “For the first time in a long time, I think I’m actually fine.”
“You are more than fine, you are brilliant,” Adam said, not missing a beat or hesitating. “That is why we need you refreshed. If you stay on too long you are at risk for many, many things, my friend. So, go home. Take a few months. Then, if you want to come back, you can have any posting you like.”
Will stared hard at Adam, but his friend didn’t waver.
To his side, Dr. Ho intervened cautiously. “Ultimately, this is not a choice, Dr. Halstead,” he said. “The policy is clear in this case.”
Dr. Wexler offered him the most sympathetic take. “Trust us,” she said, sounding almost motherly in her approach. “This is for the best, and we want that for you.”
Will felt like his chest might burst, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He would fight with Adam -- and he would, to be sure -- but not with them. Dr. Ho and Dr. Wexler were his bosses, and Will had learned his place over the last year. He knew better than to take that for granted. He had blown it with Ms. Goodwin, burned that bridge, and he couldn’t do it now.
Swallowing hard, he forced his emotions back into check. Somehow, he drew upon his self control and managed to smile as he offered a short nod. “Okay,” he said, forcing his reluctant mouth to form the words through his constricted throat. He even managed a smile somehow as he nodded again. “Thank you.”
If they could tell just how uncomfortable this made him -- and Adam surely could, even if the others couldn’t -- they said nothing on the matter. Instead, Dr. Wexler stayed with her agenda. “We will have the paperwork making your review official sent to your hotel room. Please sign it, and have it returned to us for your file,” she said, shuffling the papers one more time. “We will also include your sabbatical paperwork with all the details you will need to make your plans.”
Will was still smiling by rote, frozen in the spot.
Dr. Ho inclined his head. “You are dismissed, Dr. Halstead.”
It was his permission to move, but Will didn’t dare let himself breathe until he got outside the room and the door was closed. In fact, he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down until he was already outside the hotel, blinking into the sunlight with his burning eyes, trying to catch his breath.
From behind him, he heard a noise. “Halstead!”
Will inhaled greedily, trying and failing to regain something like composure.
“Halstead!”
When he turned, Adam had caught up to him.
“Halstead,” Adam said, slightly breathless as he came up.
Will’s self control had slipped now, and this was Adam -- and Will had nothing left to hide with him. He shook his head, working his jaw as his response formed. “Are you serious right now? Are you actually serious?”
“Halstead, just listen--”
“No,” Will objected. He’d always played nice with Adam. He’d given Adam the space to take the lead, and he’d been a loyal right-hand man, an impeccable best friend. But right now, he couldn’t. “This is ridiculous.”
Adam scoffed at him. “This is nothing but standard procedure. To most people, the sabbatical is a perk of the job -- including me.”
But Will wasn’t about to be placated. Adam knew him well enough to know what this meant to him. “You have to go back in there and tell them to let me stay.”
“I will not,” Adam said, with a touch of indignance in his words.
Will gritted his teeth. “Adam--”
Will was standing his ground, but so was Adam. For all that Adam could seem like a happy-go-lucky guy, he had real mettle to him. He could be the toughest son of a bitch Will knew, when it mattered.
For some reason, to Adam, it mattered now. “Halstead, I am the one who insisted they make you take it,” he said. “I came to make sure it happened. They were going to give you the exception you so clearly wanted, but I refused.”
Will had suspected as much back inside. Yet, it still hurt to hear, and his emotions were wearing thin against the veil of whatever was left of his self control. “But why? I’m good at this.”
“You are,” Adam said with an emphatic bob of his head. “But you are not just some doctor to me, like you are to them. You are my friend, Halstead. And I know you. And you need the break.”
He jabbed his finger at Will’s chest to make his point.
Will, though, stood without flinching. “No, I don’t.”
“You have been working nonstop for a year,” Adam reasoned. “You have been beaten and hot, you have worked the worst hours imaginable. You have lifted an entire hospital from the ashes almost entirely on your own. You have done enough.”
Will was nothing if not stubborn. He had changed in a lot of ways, but not in that way. “There’s still more to do.”
Adam had never been cowed by Will’s tenacity, though. In fact, it was only eclipsed by Adam’s own. “Yes, there will always be more to do.”
“We are doctors -- we fix people,” Will pleaded now.
Adam gave him a short, incredulous look. “And someone then must fix you!”
Will drew back, almost as if he’d been hit.
Adam sighed, and collected himself. “Halstead, I know you are here looking for something. Absolution. Restoration. Confidence in yourself. I do not know for sure what, but I have watched you this year. I have watched you find all that -- and more.”
“Then why not let me stay?” Will asked, rounding on him again.
Adam did not sway, however. He stood his ground. “Because everyone can see it except you,” he said. “Everyone else knows you have succeeded, but you still believe there is something to prove. It is my hope that if you go home, go to your brother, you will get the perspective you need.”
Will shook his head, stepping back with his jaw tight. “I came here for perspective.”
“And you got it,” Adam said. “But I do not think you understand it.”
Will looked away, face feeling hot. His heart was pounding, and the emotions left him raw.
Adam drew closer to him again. “I know this upsets you, but no one is punishing you. So why are you punishing yourself?”
The question was too telling, maybe. Will felt his anger break, and the grief swelled up. His eyes were burning when he looked at Adam again. “Maybe I’m scared,” he admitted. “Because I don’t know what comes next.”
Adam took him by the shoulder, shaking him with powerful reassurance. “All the more reason to face this fear like you have faced so many others this past year,” he said. “All the things, and this is the one that threatens to break you?”
Will had to laugh, because it was ludicrous. All he'd done over the past year, and he’d believed there was nothing he couldn’t face. But he had come here for a reason. It was time to figure out what that was, once and for all.
Finally, he nodded, allowing himself to exhale. “It’s just three months, right?” he asked.
Adam let him go, grinning now. “It’s only three months.”