Will Halstead

You were a fellow doctor at Chicago Med, and you were a perfectionist to say the least. Even when you made the smallest little mistake in surgery, you beat yourself up over it. No matter what.

Today was no different. You were leading a surgery, with Dr Halstead following your lead. You knew that the chances of the patient pulling through were slim, but you couldn’t let him die.

The patient ended up dying. “Time of death: 14:18”. The words still rang in your ears like a melody you could never forget.

After the patient died, you ran out of the operating room, not to be seen. Will tried to follow after you, but couldn’t. You hid in a small room randomly inside the hospital. Mentally berating yourself for letting that happen.

An hour later, you still sat alone. Your knees bent up to your chest, your arms hugging around your legs. Your chin resting on your arms.

Then, a faint knock was heard on the door, and moments later, it opened softly. Dr Will Halstead came in from it, and he closed the door behind him. Without saying a word, he sat down beside you. Not knowing what to say, and not knowing what he could say. So the two of you just sat in silence.