Outside Voights' office Al had seen Jays' demeanor suddenly change so even before his yell reached the open plan area the War Veteran had begun propelling the others towards the staircase. After years of working on a job that tended to invite danger no one raised questions but instead all responded immediately.
Voights' attempt to get Jay in front of him never grained traction, literally. As Murphy and Parker sprung for and opened the door the Sergeant found himself being unceremoniously shoved after them, his attempt to plant his feet roundly rebuffed by the determined Detective. The New Yorkers had just reached the stairs with Voight, trailed by the limping Detective a few feet behind, when a deafening noise precipitated a shower of debris.
Chicago Med - Two Hours Later
Kevin and Antonio looked up as the door to the Waiting Room opened and a slow moving Murphy shadowed by Parker entered.
"Voight is getting an update," the Psychologist forestalled the questions that he knew were coming as he helped his old friend ease down onto a chair opposite the Detectives.
"What's the damage?" Kevin gestured to the Assistant Director.
"Mild concussion. Could have been a lot worse."
"You okay?"
"Not a scratch," Parker noted in some disbelief.
"We're the lucky ones," Kevin pointed out, sombrely "it's a miracle no one was killed."
"Will isn't happy " Antonio commented recalling the redheads' reaction to his siblings' arrival at Med.
"He was hardly going to break out in a Riverdance routine," Kevin stated wrily, the man was getting way too much experience seeing his brother injured.
"How did Voight look?" Antonio eyed the New Yorkers speculatively.
"Like a volcano about to erupt," the pale HS man succinctly answered quietly in deference to his aching head.
"God help the Doctor dealing with him!"
"Rhodes."
"Oh well at least he's familiar with Sarge," Antonio sighed as the door opened.
"How is he?" Mouse demanded upon walking in with Adam, his worry over-riding niceties.
"We're waiting for Sarge," Kevin looked at the ex-Ranger thoughtfully, "he'll be fine. Take more than this to stop him."
"He's right," Adam concurred as he sat down beside Kevin.
"How can you all be so calm? He was nearly killed .... again!"
"But he wasn't," Parker decided to intervene in an attempt to avoid the argument which the IT Specialist was clearly spoiling for.
"This time. What about next time. He's not a cat with nine lives. One of these days he's going to die ....,"
"That can be said about everyone," Kevin noted evenly, "for now can't we just be grateful he's alive?"
"Kev has a point," Antonio looked across at Mouse and surmised knowingly, "we're all worried about him but getting upset isn't the answer and neither is arguing."
"So what exactly went on in the office?" Adam decided to engender a reasoned discussion.
"Hell if I know," Antonio reluctantly admitted with a weary sigh, "Al was watching the office and all of a sudden he made us leave ...,"
"He didn't say why?"
"It was obvious he had a reason and also obvious questions were not an option. Jay was meant to be organising the mens' evacuation from the office but something must have changed."
"What?"
"I told you I don't know," the Italian-American reigned in his frustration, they were all on edge not just Mouse.
"I want answers ...," Mouses' declaration coincided with the door admitting Voight and Al.
".... and you'll get them," the abrupt Sergeant cut in and walked over to look out the window, his back to those gathered.
"Murphy you look like hell," Al put in with a wink, trying to give his oldest friend some time to collect his thoughts.
"That's some bedside manner you got!" the New Yorker scoffed.
"So what's the damage?"
"Mild concussion," Murphy became serious, "I'm not complaining. We should all have been killed in that office."
"Less of the 'should'," Parker admonished mildly.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah I do."
"Well how is he?!" Mouse couldn't contain his worry any longer, he wanted answers and he wanted them now!
"He's getting stitched up," Al replied, "most of the damage was to his back. He didn't sustain any broken ribs, a miracle considering the size of the slab we found him under."
"Definitely a miracle," Adam concurred in relief as he recalled the terrifying aftermath of the explosion.
"What else?" the IT man prodded, he knew there was more.
"He avoided a concussion but sustained a deep laceration to the back of his head that required stitches also. His right ankle was dislocated .....,"
"Damn," Kevin cursed softly, their friend just couldn't seem to catch a break.
"Will used more colourful words," Al pointed out ruefully, the treatment room had become a breeding ground for some highly inventive expletives as the younger Halstead was being treated, "turns out he has a temper to match that red hair of his."
"Anything else?" Kevin checked if there were more injuries on the list.
"He's going to have some mighty fine bruising on his back and legs from where the debris landed on him. That's it."
"That's more than enough," Voight joined in for the first time as he turned away from the outside world.
"So what happened?" Adam repeated his earlier question, hoping to get an answer this time.
"I had a quick word with Halstead before Rhodes decided there were too many people in the treatment room," the Sergeants' interpretation of being thrown out drew chuckles from his audience, even Mouse, "he noticed the markings on one of the M67s was not in the standard print size and ...,"
"And?"
"Kaboom," Al put in sardonically.
"I mean was that all?" Adam shot the moustached Detective an exasperated look.
"It was enough to tell him King had sabotaged the grenade which meant a high possibility it was rigged to explode without outside influence."
"Damn lucky he noticed it in time," Murphy spoke in genuine relief and gratitude.
"That's not exactly how the Kid sees it," Voight informed the group unhappily.
"How else could he see it?" Parker looked at the Unit members seeing knowing looks pass between them.
"If I know Jay," Antonio proffered the explanation the Intelligence men all knew was most likely, "he's blaming himself for not noticing the anomaly earlier."
"Seriously?" Murphy asked in disbelief.
"Oh definitely seriously," Kevin concurred with a sigh to several nods of agreement.
"Well we'll set him straight," Parker eyed his companions keenly, they owed their lives to the young Detective and he needed to accept that truth unhindered by unwarranted guilt.
----------------------------‐
Will stood in the cubicle and watched Conor deal with his brothers' injuries. His earlier harsh words had merely been a way of relieving his stress at seeing Jay yet again injured. Once x-rays had returned a verdict of non life threatening injuries the gaping head wound over his right ear had been dealt with before the mangled flesh of his back had been cleaned and sutured. The ever professional Surgeon was applying the last dressing which hid the evidence of the days' events from sight if not from memory. He was no fool. He had been an unwilling participant in this exact scenario a number of times now, stuck between a fuming Will and an apparently nonchalant Jay. He knew the younger Halsteads' silence had no relationship to the unpleasant injuries he had sustained. The stoic tolerance of the inevitable wound cleaning had reminded him yet again of his friends' over familiarity with pain. The black haired man had administered a number of local anaesthetics but same could not block the pain fully when vigorous scrubbing was required to ensure no tiny fragments remained nestled within the sliced flesh and torn muscle. Conor shot a warning glance towards the redhead, mutely telling him to maintain his composure. His earlier rantings had not benefited his sibling. Whatever was happening in the King case was still very much ongoing and the elder Halsteads' anger would not help the situation.
"Okay you're good to go," Conor turned his full attention to his patient as he checked the final piece of surgical tape keeping the sixth dressing in place, "you need to keep the wounds dry and they need to be changed daily. I'll get you dressings to take home with you as well as a course of antibiotics."
"Thanks Doc."
"How are you doing otherwise?" Conor asked gently as he noted the man was unusually quiet, even by his standards.
"Fine," Jay winced as he straightened up and got off the treatment table, studiously avoiding his brothers' eyes.
"You'll need help changing the dressings," Conor pointed out unnecessarily, more for something to say than anything else.
"I'll sort it," the injured man assured as he carefully put on the purposefully too large blue scrub top the Surgeon had found for him.
"You can stay with me ....," Will put in before being interrupted.
"Nope. I'm going home," Jays' response though given quietly held a resolute note that was intended to deter argument.
"As well as the antibiotics I'm giving you a course of anti-inflammatories," Conor spoke up before the redhead could stubbornly persist, "they need to be taken with food and Jay it's important you take them. The swelling needs to go down so the wounds can start healing."
"Will do Doc," Jay held out a hand, "appreciate all you've done. Would you mind giving us a minute?"
"No problem," Conor returned the firm grip, "I'll sort out your prescriptions."
Once the siblings were alone Will began to wish the Surgeon had remained. A tense silence had fallen as soon as the curtains were closed. Jay was debating ripping his brothers' head off over his earlier actions or simply ignoring him. Neither option however would really solve anyrhing.
"You still mad?"
"Jay I wasn't mad at you .... it was just a shock ............ to see you being brought in .....,"
"Hell you don't handle shocks well do you?" the injured man huffed as he placed a tentative hand up to his bandaged head, "feel like a damn mummy!"
"You look like one too," the redhead couldn't resist teasing his sibling despite the circumstances before becoming serious, "so are we good?"
"For now."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we're good for now," Jay reiterated, "but you're going to have to learn to reign in your temper. You're lucky Voight didn't deck you."
"Why would he have?"
"You're kidding right?"
"No."
"You practically called the man incompetent for letting me get injured again ......,"
"I never said that!" Will hastily protested.
"Not in so many words but you might as well have."
"I was worried! I can't even remember everything I said."
"Well unluckily for you Sarge has real good powers of recall," the Detective watched his brothers' consternation turn to worry and figured it served him right.
"You can explain things to him can't you?"
"Me? You weren't exactly lacking in your criticism of me either."
"But ......,"
".... you were worried?"
"Exactly."
The younger Halstead wondered how long he could keep his companion dangling. He had no intention of letting Voight rake him over the coals but it wouldn't do him any harm to think it was a possibility. As for the earlier remarks hurled at him he understood there was no malice behind same. He had come to the conclusion long ago that Will got the fiery trait and he got the placid trait. That assignment of qualities probably saved Will from many well deserved lectures, like today. Stifling a wince as his freshly injured ankle vied for attention Jay pushed inconsequential matters such as injuries and sibling squabbles aside. Right now the grim circumstances which led to Med needed to be faced. Right now he needed to admit his oversight ........
tbc