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Pneumonia, kidney failure, suspected colon cancer and a sprained ankle to start the day. Three hours into a shift, with no end in sight. Will sinks further into the worn out sofa, adjusting his position four times before giving up on finding any temporary comfort. Picks at the threadbare cushions with one hand and throws his other arm over his eyes, a deft attempt at hiding from the glow of the lights. The door to the doctors lounge provides a brief reprieve from the chaos outside, and for a moment he can force himself to pretend he’s at home, television on, feet up, curled in arms stronger than his, away from the hurt and the pain and the next beep of his pager.
“Do you really think it’s his kid?” The hushed tones accompanied by bleeting alarms rush into the room before being muffled by the click of the door. If he stays really still, he could pass himself off as napping, and then they might quietly back out of the room and might not have to hear whatever mundane trash Doris was spreading like wildfire across the ED. But as far as shifts at work go, today has been okay - his patients are on the way to recovery, no major drama or big accident to tend to. So for once, he plays into it, just as she wants.
“Hey Doris, which kid are you talking about? The one in two with appendicitis?” He says, sitting up straight against the slumped cushions behind him.
“Oh, hey Will. Didn’t see you there. No, there’s a Caitlin Rhodes in the ED, obviously I had to take a peek, poor thing is terrified. Weird that she has Rhodes as a last name though, right? Like, is she A Rhodes? Maybe it’s Connor’s sister’s-“
Will doesn’t hear the rest of her conspiracy theories, though, because he’s to his feet and out of his sanctuary for the next fifteen minutes before he has time to breathe, door to the doctors lounge ricochetting against the wall. He paces from bay to bay, peering into each one through blurred vision. Eight, mid-ultrasound of a stomach. Six, a patient looking anywhere but Dr Charles sat in the corner on a rolling stool. Two, shock paddles poised and ready to try and bring life back to a child, Three-
He’s stopped in his frantic investigative tracks by Maggie, taking hold his of arm and turning him around on the spot.
“Will! You can’t go charging around here, you know that. What’s up with you?”
“Does Connor know?” He’s grabbing her shoulders in return, knows from the ways her eyes widen that he can’t look in any state to be on the ED floor right now.
“What?”
“Connor. Does he know, has anyone told him about-“ She pulls him to one side, shushing him as she walks.
“He’s been notified, but he has an hour left in surgery, nobody can take over for- wait Will what is this about? How do you-“
“Where is she?”
“…Treatment One, Will, why-“
He doesn’t care to wait on this particular line of questioning, because only a few more strides on shaking legs and he’s there, hand hovering at the sliding door of trauma one. The curtains are drawn, but all he needs is a sliver of a gap near the doorframe to confirm his worst fears. He tried to convince himself that Doris had got it all wrong on the walk over. Maybe there was a different Caitlin Rhodes out there who was a college student who’d had one too many to drink, or maybe she misheard the last name. But there she is - he can tell from the mess of brown curls fanned out over cheap synthetic sheets, the purple jumper he’s patched covered up by blankets, bloodshot eyes through thick rimmed glasses. He doesn’t get to see much else, because Ethan is swiping open the curtain to her room, pulling at the sliding door and walking straight into him.
“Oh, hey Dr Halstead. Don’t worry, I’ve got this patient covered.” Ethan says, tapping on his iPad before reaching to pull the curtain again. Will takes his chance to try and scoot around him, failing as Ethan blocks the door. From this angle, he can see April sat at her bedside, a nurses trolley filled with needles and pills and tourniquets next to her.
“What happened?” It comes out ragged, any ounce of resolve he was clinging onto by his fingertips crumbling with every second. Ethan looks over his shoulder to April, places a hand at the juncture of Will’s elbow.
“Will, given the… unique nature of this patient, I’d rather wait until- her, er, parent is here-“
“Papa!” Ethan and April’s heads snap towards Caitlin, then turn to search the ED behind Will, met with Maggie, still as bewildered as before if not a little angrier. And Will’s frozen on the spot, fight or flight kicking in in all the wrong ways, his body remembering a time way before his world was glued back together piece by piece, when all he did was run when the going got tough. But then she says it again, pleading and sorrowful and hurt, and it snaps Will into action; there’s no time to consider running when Caitlin needs him. He pushes Ethan to one side and heads straight to Caitlin’s bedside. He can take her in fully, then - purple and grey bruising blooming from her wrist and up her left forearm, laid out on exhibition atop pillow.
A distant thought somewhere in the back of his mind warns that he should probably be Dr Will Halstead right now. Keep up the facade, grab the iPad from Ethan and assess the initial presentation. Start to discuss diagnoses and treatment plans and speak in words she’s too young and too scared to understand. But he couldn’t even pretend if he tried, not here, Caitlin eclipsed in the middle of such a big bed, curtains now shielding them from the outside world, Maggie’s questions no doubt answered in one reaction.
He collapses onto the stool at the side of her bed, takes her uninjured hand in one of his and cradles her cheek with the other. She grips his hand, squeezes her eyes shut, leans into his palm and lets out a sob she must’ve been holding in for God knows how long for the sake of being Good for Strangers.
He’s privileged enough to see so many different sides of Caitlin for the last 6 years; at first as Connor’s friend, his ‘special friend’, his boyfriend, then his fiancé, and somewhere in between the years of school runs and day trips, as Caitlin’s papa, too. He gets the mischievous, fun side of Caitlin the most, Will always ready to push the nighttimes or play dates a little longer than Connor would. He’s always been Caitlin’s confidant, coming to Will about a broken toy or a cup of juice spilt onto an expensive carpet, Will ready to pick up the pieces. Scared isn’t one he’s graced with often. She’s tough - taking any trip or fall with a laugh and a shrug, leaving him with heart palpitations long after she’s run off in search of a next adventure. Her reaction sends his brain into overdrive, has him wanting her to never leave his sight after this. He takes a deep breath, tucks those thoughts away to plague him into the early hours of the night if he’s lucky enough. Reminds himself what she needs him to be right now, and plasters on his best fake smile.
“Hey, sweet thing, didn’t expect to see you so soon today. I thought we had a date for the movies tonight? You trying to bail on me?” Will says, voice quavering.
“Where’s Dad?” Caitlin says, lip trembling as a fresh wave of sobs surface at the mention of him. He looks to April and Ethan, now stood beside each other on the opposite side of the bed. He’s greeted by one look of protection with a hint of confusion, fingers drumming on an iPad, another look on the cusp of something else.
“He’s in the middle of making somebody better,” Will says, focus entirely on her as he swipes the pad of his thumb underneath her glasses frames. “But the minute he’s done he’ll be right here, I promise.” She nods at that, frowning when she tries to shuffle closer to Will, met by a plastic barricade. Will collapses it with expert speed and perches on the edge of the bed, holding his arm out so she can mould into his side, just like she does most evenings before bedtime for the next chapter of the next adventure book. He says a silent thank you that she seems to be okay, discounting her arm. His heartbeat slows, only a little.
“Uh, Nurse Sexton.” Ethan clears his throat, heading to the doorway. “Push 10 more mls of liquid ibuprofen, lets try and make her as comfortable as possible. Caitlin, as soon as your Dad is here, we’ll have a talk and decide how best to get you better, okay?” Ethan leaves with a solemn nod, and Will doesn’t miss the final look thrown April’s way.
“Listen, April-“
“Nope, not a word.” She says, unwrapping a fresh needle to put an IV in. He’s seen countless blood draws and IV placements before, but feeling the way Caitlin flinches and whimpers against his side as she completes the procedure brings out an angry kind of protective in him, gripping the sheets underneath until he’s sure they’ll rip. All at once he understands why people who accompany their loved ones to the ED can act in such baffling ways. He’s seeing the setting he’s spent the best part of his medical career occupying in a different light. The smell of antibacterial spray and sterilisation that usually provides comfort in a hectic turnover now turns his stomach. The lighting that assists him in resolving a patients issues now strains his tired eyes, feels more like an interrogation tactic than an aid.
“Right now, you’re the… concerned guardian of a patient.” Her voice lilts to a question, smiling at the sheepish look on Will’s face when he nods in confirmation.
“There’s plenty of time to talk later.”
Will hears the cacophony that Connor creates in his wake before he sees him. A deep voice yelling, the clattering of objects, Maggie’s voice cutting through the chaos yelling ’Trauma One!’ in response, the swoosh of the door and metal against metal scraping as he nearly rips the curtain from it’s rail.
“How is she? What happened?” His skull cap clings to his head, deep purple surgery scrubs a stark contrast to Will’s burgundy ones. His shirt’s not quite pulled down properly, neck stretched all the way to the curve of his shoulder, and Will can only imagine the speed he left the OR. His chest heaves as he surveys the room, wild eyes assessing April, then Caitlin, and landing on Will.
Will loves Connor. Loves their life they built before Connor joined Gaffney, loves the life they’ve continued to build together in the shadows. Loves the level of trust Connor has in him to give him his heart, let him love his Caitlin. When they met, Connor had this intrinsic way of knowing what Will was thinking, to the point that it kind of freaked Will out at first. It started out small - knowing his drinks order before he made it, guessing his favourite movie. But it’s transformed and grown over time, something they’ve nurtured and flourished and honed into a skill. A silent conversation over Caitlin’s head before getting her the biggest ice cream size, a stare to back away from a boundary in a heated argument, a stolen glance across a busy ED to say I love you and I’m thinking of you. Right now is no different. Connor looks to Will, and knows.
“Oh my God, thank God you’re okay,” He says in a rush, heading to the side that April vacates as soon as he approaches, bracing himself on the mattress with one hand to lean over and plant a kiss in her hair. Will watches in slow motion as Connor moves closer to him over Caitlin’s head, catching himself short of Will’s cheek, lowering himself to his stool with a sigh.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I got here as fast as I could, I promise you.” It doesn’t take all that long for Connor to switch into Doctor Rhodes, although he clearly thinks he’s being subtle. He disguises looking at the monitors behind him with a cough, eyes scanning her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, wincing at the bruising painted across her arm. “What happened?”
“Connor, Will, Caitlin.” Ethan says, tugging at the curtain behind him to make sure it’s fully closed. Will’s pretty sure he can hear disappointed groans.
“You definitely lost your fight with the jungle gym today, you have what we call an unstable distal radius fracture in your left wrist. Here, look.” He hands Connor his iPad with an X-Ray displayed, who tilts it so Will can see. White fragments are lit up against a dark background at disjointed angles, and Will feels sick knowing how much pain she must be in.
“I-I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean to fall, we were racing and I went to grab the final rail and missed… Dad?” Caitlin says, heart monitor beeping faster when Connor says nothing in response, staring into the blanket below. It’s a look Will only ever sees when Connor is planning for the most complicated of his heart procedures, already sets him on edge. It takes Will pinching his shoulder over her head to shake him out of his trance, turning to Caitlin again.
“You’re not in any trouble, Caity, I promise. Accidents happen. Dr Choi, this means-“
“That Caitlin will have to have surgery, yes. But as you know Connor, it’s a very simple procedure. We can get you into theatre later today and you’ll be home by tonight.” Will feels the way Caitlin relaxes into his side at Ethan’s words, in the glow of his smile, in the way he can be so authoritative but so reassuring, and he’s glad Ethan’s the one leading this case.
“Ethan, a word.” Will was right to be on edge, because he knows that tone. As Connor presses another kiss into Caitlin’s hair and heads to leave the room, Will does the same, with a promise they’ll be back before she even knows they’re gone. He follows the pair out into the ED, sending a gaggle of nurses idling near the room scattering.
“I want to do the surgery.” Connor says, taking his time to cross one arm over the other, tucking his hands under his biceps, straightening out and angling his head down. In any other circumstance, Will would find it unbearably hot.
“No way.” Ethan scoffs, pushing past Connor.
“Why not?” Connor is hot on Ethan’s heels, voice growing louder and angrier with every step. Will follows, tries his best to stare at the soft nape of Connor’s neck and not the onlookers currently watching on with a mix of curiosity, horror and a little bit of glee.
“For one, you’re in cardio, not ortho. And because it’s against protocol. You know that, I know that, I’d bet that even she knows that.” Ethan stops and pats Connor on the shoulder. Will knows it’s intended to be a caring gesture, but Connor shrugs it away like it burns.
“I’m the best damn surgeon here, she deserves the best there is.“
“And you’re also her-” Ethan cuts himself off with a shake of his head, but the damage has already been done. Will watches the cogs turning in Doris’ brain from where she’s stood at the nurses station, filling in the gap Ethan unintentionally left. Uncle? Brother? Dad?
“You can’t, Dr Rhodes.” Ethan’s raising his voice in response, mustering every bit of authority he can, and there isn’t a pair of eyes in the ED not on the commotion unfolding, and Connor starts to crowd into Ethan’s space and it fills Will with dread because if there’s one thing stronger than Connor’s love for Will, it’s Connor’s love for his daughter, and Will knows nearly nothing could get in the way of that, including the medical oath he swore all those years ago.
The thought moves Will into action, awkwardly manoeuvring so he wedges himself in between Ethan and Connor. He can feel the press of the harsh rise and fall of Connor’s chest, Ethan’s breath down his neck.
“Dr Rhodes, enough.”
“Dr Halstead, I don’t want your opinion in this.” Connor says, eyes glittering with quiet fury in the fluorescent light.
They’re dancing a routine they’ve performed hundreds of times now, one that’s perfected through years of trust and practice in and out of the workplace. They’re always on the right side of a professional challenge, knowing when to back down and when to push further, knowing every blind spot and gap in knowledge to work together to get the best from each other. It shouldn’t look like that from the outside, of course - a professional acquaintance at best, now one misplaced word or gesture away from imploding into something irreparable.
This isn’t any other case, though. It isn’t any other problem to be fixed with a treatment plan and a save in the eleventh hour. His life would be on the operating table, ready to dissect and mould and plate back together. He wants so badly to say all of this to him, to grab him by the shirt and plead until he sees how stupid he’s being, how his need to protect and take charge is jeopardising his career, maybe even jeopardising his daughter. Knows he can’t do any of that. So Will places a gentle hand on his bicep, and stares, one eyebrow raised. Really looks at him, into him, through him, hope’s it conveys just enough in the tense silence spiralling ahead of them.
“Dr Rhodes. I said enough.” It’s spoken softer, less like Dr Halstead and more like Will his fiancé. Connor closes his eyes. Exhales forcefully, cracks his knuckles at his side. Maggie reaches for her phone, eyes flitting between them from where she stands just off to the side.
“Fine.” Connor concedes, backs away from Will, just enough to turn his attention back to Ethan.
“Dr Choi, I need you to listen to me closely. I want Dr Marcel on the case. Whatever’s on his schedule today, cancel it. I want Caitlin bumped up the list for the OR room, and I want this to be the best damn operation he’s ever done. No complications, no scarring, no pain for her, in and out. And if they don’t do a cast in the colour she chooses, I want the hospital to personally go out and source the bandages, paint it yourself, I don’t care.” Before anyone has a chance to respond, he turns on his heel and heads back to Caitlin’s room. Will can’t do anything but follow behind.
Time passes by with April taking Caitlin’s vitals at periodic intervals, Caitlin talking to Connor and Will about her morning in classes up to the accident, and Ethan checking in every so often, slowly piecing together the puzzle in front of him. He walks by and hears Caitlin questions about about the surgery, watches how Will and Connor work in tandem, explaining every step and tackling each fear one by one. He hears Caitlin reference Uncle Jay just as he leaves the room to check in on another patient.
A little while later, he takes pause in an otherwise very busy afternoon to peer into the room, curtain ajar. Caitlin’s napping, head angled towards Connor, her hand still in Will’s where he draws circles with his thumb absentmindedly. Will and Connor are deep in conversation, and it strikes Ethan that he’s never seen them quite like this. Connor and Will’s interactions are strictly reserved for the battlefield or for a path towards a fix for a patient, rarely for the moments in between. There’s something different about the way Connor laughs, full hearted and light, and Will looks so pleased with himself, and Ethan has this creeping feeling that he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be seeing. But seeing them both so happy, it makes a change.
Will reaches for his collar, hooks the chain laid against his chest around his thumbs, tugging up until a ring dangles free. Looks to Connor, holds the ring in his thumb and forefinger, presses it to his lips in a kiss. He’s seen Will play with the ring before; in times of crisis, in need of comfort, in boredom. He’d had the passing wonder of what it meant to him, but they were barely close enough to talk about their life away from work, never mind something that seemed so personal. Connor winks at Will from across the bed. Ethan sees the way Will blushes, and the final puzzle piece locks in place.
——
“Good afternoon Dr Rhodes, I hear you called for my rescue?” Crockett winks at Connor as he walks into their treatment room followed by two porters. On more than a few occasions when they’d got a little too tipsy after a tough day, they’d ranked the top five most attractive people in the ED; Crockett coming out at number one every time. Connor ducks his head, aborts the motion of running his hand through his hair when he’s met by his scrub cap.
“Oh my, Dr Halstead, too. Didn’t expect to be double doc’ed today, what a treat.” Will scoffs, throwing him a quick wave as Crockett turns to Caitlin, looking awestruck from the bed.
“Hey there, lil’ lady. My name’s Dr Marcel but you can call me Crockett. It’s a pleasure to meet you, wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.” Crockett greets Caitlin with a squeeze of her shoulder as the porters pull her bed from the bay and into the hustle and bustle of the ED. From there, its a procession - Connor on one side of the bed, Crockett on the other, Will trailing behind at the headboard with Ethan, trying valiantly and failing miserably to look like any other doctor supervising her care. The staff have stopped trying to be subtle now, once shielding their gossip behind iPads and at nurses stations, eyes honed in on Connor holding her good hand.
“Sure looks like you took a good old tumble today. Let’s head on up and we can get you fixed and back down here in no time.”
“Back to my Dad and my Papa.” Caitlin says, matter of fact, looking up at Connor with a grin before pushing herself up and searching the ED.
Will can hear the sound of seven different bombshells all dropping at once; the aftermath of murmurs and hushed whispers shattering far and wide as they pass the centre station filled with doctors and nurses he’s never even seen before. The rumour and subsequent confirmation of Connor Rhodes having a secret child is enough to send the entire hospital into a tailspin for weeks. The proof that Gaffney’s most eligible bachelor is so past the point of taken, might cause shutdowns reaching far across Chicago.
Will steels himself and looks to Connor tentatively, the turn of his head timid and slow. Connor’s already looking at him - not with the bravado of Dr Rhodes, or the polite friendliness of the Connor he shares with everyone as he passes in the hospital corridors - but with the warmth and assuredness and love of His Connor. There might have been a time a few years ago, when things were new and unravelling and a little too real in comparison to his usual hookups, where he would’ve reacted differently. He’d have checked in with his faulty fight or flight response or the professional code of conduct or his waning catholic guilt, and chosen a different path. Maybe spouted out some medical jargon or clapped Connor on his shoulder and said Good Luck, Bud, or ignored the situation unfolding in front of him all together.
Caitlin is peeking around the headboard to him, pensive and scared and hopeful and worried. He knows she needs her Papa right now, like she has in her heart ever since they met. Connor and Will share another look, and Will sees his family right in front of him, and he knows. Without a shadow of a doubt, he would burn his career to the ground a thousand times over if it meant being with them for a second longer.
Will sees his other family, too. Maggie and April and Natalie and Ethan and Crockett and Dr Charles and Sharon and even Doris, all gathered together. Some are still just as confused as the second Will burst through the doors of the doctors lounge, but some have hopeful smiles, clasped hands. He wonders how long, if at all, they’ve suspected anything. Wonders how subtle they’ve been all this time. In leaving a few minutes after each other, Connor always hovering around the corner on a pretend phone call or rummaging through his backpack in search of nothing. In will turning up to his shift in one of Connor’s jackets after a rush out of the apartment, the leather far too genuine and pristine to play off as his. In sitting a little too close to each other at Molly’s, thighs sealed together and drinks clinking.
With a deep breath and a serene heart, Will strides to stand at Connor’s side. Reaches out for Caitlin’s hand, holds it like an anchor and a promise.
“You be good for Crockett, okay?” Will says, the sear of Connor’s hand skirting across his lower back and settling at his hip solidifying his decision.
“I-“ Connor clears his throat, reaching over to encase Will and Caitlin’s hands in his. “We love you, kiddo. We’ll see you soon.”
It’s one big blur of motion from then. Caitlin being wheeled off and in the care of Crockett, Maggie shouting to get back to work as her phone alerts of an incoming ambulance. From there, Ethan knows what he has to do. It takes him three attempts and a lot of arguing to successfully convince Will and Connor to stay in the doctors lounge, instead of the OR waiting room. He knows that the OR waiting room would lead to the OR observation room, and they could all do without a visit from security. April grabs them by the shoulders and guides them, hearing fading instructions that they’re not to be disturbed as the door clicks shut.
Will makes a beeline towards the coffee station on autopilot, a reflex from years spent seeking solace in caffeine during breaks. Will flicks the switch off and on twice for good measure. Braces himself against the marble countertop to gather his thoughts in the silence that stretches out before them, turns to lean against it instead. He finds Connor pacing around the room; to the shower room door, past the sofa, just out of reach of the kitchen, and back. Will knows, from practiced experience, that he should hold space for Connor right now, leave the pushing or interrogating until much later. Let him speak on his own terms, pace out the frenetic energy powering him in circles. But the weight of what just happened in the last two hours is slowly washing over him, and Will’s mind is racing, and he couldn’t stay quiet even if he tried.
“Connor, what the hell were you thinking? No, you weren’t thinking, that’s what.” Will aims for angry, lands in the territory of dejected and resigned instead. When Connor says nothing, he presses further.
“Operating on Caity? Really?” Will says, arms crossed, eyebrow lifted. It pauses Connor in his tirade for a breath, but as fast as he’s stopped, Will’s watching his back retreat again.
“I could’ve done it, Will.” Connor says eventually with the slam of a palm against an open locker near his shoulder, tensing as it swings back towards him. Will fights the urge to roll his eyes, knows it won’t help in this situation.
“Could, sure. You’re the best surgeon I know. But you know the rules-“
“I know, I know…” Connor trails off. Each step has less conviction than the last, the tension from Connor’s shoulders dissipating as he slows. The click of the coffee pot makes them both jump. Will busies himself with making two cups, leaves Connor’s steaming on the counter as he settles into the sofa he’d so quickly left earlier.
“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t leave the OR because everyone in cardio is down with the flu. I couldn’t even get anyone to ring you because-“
“I know, Con.” Will tries to hold onto Connor’s arm where it passes at his eyeline. Connor shrugs him off.
“God, I felt so helpless.” Connor says, pulling his surgery cap from his head and scrunching it in his fist.
“I know, Con-“
“No, you don’t, Will!” He barks out, braces himself against the plastic chair tucked flush into the dining table when he sees Will flinch. It feels like hours until Connor next speaks, but when he does, he’s broken open. “They didn’t tell me what was wrong.”
“They came into the observation room, asked if I was next of kin for a Caitlin Rhodes, told me she was in the ED, and left.”
The confession makes Will’s blood run cold. From the second Doris spoke, he’d been so laser focussed on finding Caitlin and making sure she was okay, parental instincts taking over, he’d barely even considered Connor. His reaction, the way he was told, how he was feeling - any of it. Will would liken the three minutes between hearing the news and finding Caitlin to watching 10 horror movies at once. Guilt consumes him as he tries to imagine how Connor must have felt. He tries to picture him, petrified and unsure in the middle of a theatre, not even surrounded by his usual team. Looming over a patient, knowing his daughter could be facing a much worse fate in the same building, without the one person she relies on most in the world. Will tries his best to swallow away his guilt, to focus on Connor who’s hunched over the chair.
“That last hour of surgery, I was going out of my damn mind. I went over every possible thing that could’ve happened. What could’ve cracked or broken or hurt our girl and I-“
“Con…” and Will can’t give him space anymore, taking the few short steps to where Connor is nearly bent double now, hands gripping tight around his biceps to ground him in the here and now. The fear and pain of the day he knows colours his own features is reflected right back in Connor’s. Connor’s hands find their home in his hips, gripping so hard it hurts, voice barely a whisper.
“I was so scared, babe. It turned out okay this time, but if anything bad happened to her, or-or you, I just-“
“C’mere, I got you.” Will guides them both over to the sofa, settling before gesturing to Connor with open eyes and a tired smile. Connor moves slowly but willingly, slotting easily into Will’s embrace, head rested on Will’s shoulder. In the hustle and bustle of double shifts, school drop offs, medical conferences, grocery shopping and travelling to friend’s houses, it’s so easy to forget the importance of this; the feeling of Connor’s hair brushing against his neck, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.
“I got you, Con.” Will murmurs into his hair, dropping kisses to his forehead. “Caity’s safe, you’re safe, I’m safe. She’s being operated on by the second-best here, our friend who wouldn’t let anything happen. She’ll be back with us before you know it.” At this point, Will’s not sure who he’s trying to help by whispering the reassurances. He’s halfway convinced that Connor has fallen asleep in the exhaustion of it all, until he heaves a sigh, trails his hand up and down Will’s arm. At first, Will thinks he’s misheard him.
“The operation, it’s something I could do, something I’m good at, something I could give to Caity. This Dad stuff-“
“Woah woah woah, wait. Where’s this coming from?” Will holds him a little tighter, brow furrowing.
“All of it, Will.” Connor manages to shrug his way out of Will’s hold, running a hand through his hair. “The babysitters, the missed bedtimes, the school work she needs help with that I can’t give because I’m called into an emergency, now this. I mean, she thought I’d be mad at her for an accident. What kind of Father does that make me? I find new ways to fail her every day, just like-“
“If you say like your Father, I swear I’m breaking up with you on the spot.” Will feels Connor’s surprised laugh vibrate through sofa cushions, and it dissipates some of the building tension enough for Will to pull him back down into an embrace again.
“I thought we’d talked about this? I thought you’d talked about it with Dr Charles?” The shrug against his forearm makes his heart ache.
“Con, I need you to listen to me. You are nothing like your Father. Every single day I’m surprised that you share a single shred of the same DNA. And you’re the best Dad she could ask for. In case you haven’t noticed, that girl worships the ground you walk on every single day. When we go on our Papa Caity dates? Man, I don’t even get a look in. It’s all do you think Dad would like this, did you hear the joke Dad told this morning, it’s kind of boring actually.” Will smirks at the soft chuckle he gets in return, at the tightening of Connor’s arms around his waist.
“Seriously, Con. You’re the best Dad I know. And we’re a team, remember? You never have, and never will have to carry everything on your own for as long as you have me around.” Will moves so he can really look at Connor, properly for the first time since he left him snoozing in bed this morning. He doesn’t look fully convinced, his smile not quite creasing around his eyes in the way Will loves, but it’s enough for now. He tucks the conversation away for another day, one to unpack with his own therapist, and cups Connor’s face in his hands. Strokes his thumb over the stubble of his chin, thanks any deity listening that Connor didn’t have to do this alone today, that he doesn’t have to do any of it alone anymore.
“Gentlemen,” They flinch away from each other at the sound of the door opening, a well-worn response learnt through years of barely-there touches in risky situations. When they look up and receive Sharon’s warm smile, Connor pulls Will’s hand into his lap, encases it with both of his.
“I’ve come to personally inform you that Caitlin’s surgery went perfectly. Thankfully we had the green plaster cast she requested, so no need for Dr Choi to search the universe and beyond.” Sharon says with a pointed look to Connor. “I hope you know he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. They’re still lightening sedation, but Dr Marcel will personally bring her down to see you as soon as they can, as I hear you’ve been banned from the operating floor. A wise choice.”
“Thank you, Ms Goodwin. We really appreciate you coming to tell us. We’re just glad she’s okay.” Will says, glancing at Connor who looks like he’s about ready to drop at the news. Sharon pulls out a chair from the dining table, drags it to sit across from them. She looks down at their conjoined hands, and smiles.
“I also wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. Today must have been a lot for the both of you, for more reasons than just your worry for Caitlin.”
Turning up in Sharon Goodwin’s office with the man she’d hired barely two days before, to make her life and her hospital just that little bit more complicated, was not something Will revelled in. The decision to exist as separate entities at work was born from weeks of conversation, a pretty heated argument and a deep need for self-preservation past the doors of the hospital. Will had been in the ED longer, grown roots and respect and a life there without Connor. They both knew a Rhodes joining would cause drama anyway, and they shared so much of their lives with the hospital already; they wanted to keep this one thing theirs. So hands were tentatively held opposite Sharon, talks were had, the forms were signed, and with a promise that their relationship wouldn’t interfere and a wish of happiness, they left Sharon’s office - separate but together.
“I hope you know that if you say the word, you can be back to exactly how you were before today.” Sharon says.
Will considers it briefly. The secrecy did have its perks sometimes - the quiet, smug glee as he watched Connor turn down yet another nurse, the thrill of finding quick solace in an empty bay, even just for a quick hug. But it was starting to get pretty miserable, too. Missing out on the casual comfort he watched Ethan and Aprill so easily seek out in each other after a tough case, not being able to openly discuss what groceries to pick up or who needs to take Caitlin to acrobatics class, not being able to call Connor his.
“We’d been having some serious discussions about taking everything public at work for a while now. Had plans to come and see you next week, actually.” Connor starts, squeezing Will’s hand.
“But as it turns out, our girl always has a knack of turning our plans upside down.” Will finishes, smiling at Sharon.
“Well, you both have my backing and my blessing, as you have from the start. I look forward to meeting Caitlin in better circumstances soon, I know for a fact that she is one lucky girl.” Sharon leaves with a squeeze of both of their shoulders, leaving Connor and Will to the first moment of peace since this morning.
The next time they see Caitlin, she’s out of her wheelchair before the nurse has chance to grab her, barrelling down the corridors of the ED. Connor is ready and waiting with open arms, crouched down even though she nearly towers over him like this. She nearly bowls him over with the force she hits him, knocking Connor breathless with a thwack of her cast to his back. Will ruffles her hair and stifles his laughter.
“Careful there Caity, don’t want you breaking another arm.” Connor says, struggling in his attempt to straighten back up as she continues to cling to him.
“Dr Marcel, we can’t thank you enough.” Will says as Crockett approaches, shaking his hand.
“Please, fixing your perfect little girl back up to full health, it’s my pleasure. So polite, so funny. No idea where she managed to learn that from.” Crockett says with a smirk, batting at Will’s chest with his hand before heading towards the elevator.
They’re set up in the family room whilst they wait for discharge papers, insistent on not taking up another bay again. People drop in one by one, checking in on Caitlin, introducing themselves to her as they to carefully place department stickers on her cast and sign their names in every colour of the rainbow. The sight of their colleagues - their friends - embracing her so easily makes Will want to cry, sharing withered, loving looks with Connor. He hadn’t realised just how much keeping up pretences had taken it out of him each day, feels like he can breathe a little easier, can sit next to Connor and not have every one of his muscles wound tight, even as they receive soft, teasing jibes of ‘took you long enough’.
With papers signed, Will is half way through guiding Caitlin’s good arm into her coat when she pauses, turns around.
“Papa… is it okay if we go to the movies another time? I really want to stay home tonight.” She worries her lip between her teeth, not looking at either of them. And the idea of sitting through another Minions movie at this moment in time feels like torture, so he drops a kiss in her hair, rubbing a hand up and down her now covered arm.
“I think we could all use a cosy night in. Great idea, sweet girl.” Will says as he slings her school backpack, along with his own, over his shoulder.
“Hey, gimme a sec? Just something I gotta do. I’ll meet you at the car.” He says to Connor, pausing at the exit. The press of Connor’s lips against his, a quick peck at most, shocks him. And then his brain catches up, and promptly short circuits, furious blush colouring his cheeks. Maybe this whole going public thing might be bad for his own health, land him in the bed Caitlin just vacated if his heart rate doesn’t slow.
“Hey, Mags,” Will says, heading up to her desk. “I’ve got 45 minutes of my shift left. I know I've not won any awards for Best Doc today, but do you mind…“
“Got it. You head home, take care of your girl and your man.” She swats at his arm with his own signed discharge papers, and he makes a show of ducking out of the way. “But come prepared for some serious explaining tomorrow. Taming the great Connor Rhodes? Didn’t know you had it in you.” And he figures there’s been enough chaos caused by a Rhodes today. He may as well contribute to it himself, too.
“I’ll tell my fiancé you say hi, see you tomorrow Mags.” He says with a wink, revelling in the commotion he hears unfold behind him as he walks towards the exit, towards his family.