Chapter Text
"Who the hell is this guy?"
"Says he's a doc."
The moment Dr. Will Halstead, senior ER resident, met Dr. Connor Rhodes, new trauma fellow at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, matters went downhill and never stopped, building up momentum as the days passed into weeks and into months.
Will had no idea why, but Rhodes rubbed him the wrong way. It had been just a brief exchange, establishing rank and hierarchy, establishing who was in charge, and while the eye contact had only lasted seconds, the spark had ignited something that started a low-key burn and was approaching small explosions along the way.
It wasn't the first time Will encountered a senior doctor who overrode him, but never like that.
Rhodes had come in like a knight in shining armor, saving lives, refusing to hand over a patient, actually pulling rank. He had come in as the man of the hour in the train crash, covered in blood, yelling orders. The new guy, already making an impression, capable, with a resume others would swoon over, but not Will. And someone who was also, on top of it all, quite handsome.
Will couldn't say that he hadn't noticed the handsome good looks. Many had. People reacted to that; men and women alike.
And something had whispered over his senses the moment they had locked eyes over the crash victim. Something powerful. Something preternatural.
Something rippled.
Between them.
Like low level currents of electricity.
It was there and gone again in a flash and Will wondered if he had ever truly felt it.
And then they had locked horns.
Will had pushed it away, furious about how the brief interaction had left him: feeling like he had lost the all-important fight. He had no idea why, hadn't really even caught a name of the guy who had refused to hand over the patient, but it had stung. Deeply.
It didn't help that Rhodes was loaded, came from a family with money to waste and burn, that he would surely advance just because of his name and history.
Will despised him out of spite.
Rich kid, handsome, successful, with money to pave the way, probably a father to remove all the bumps in the road.
Yeah, he despised him.
He fought the basic attraction, too.
He fought it with going out with whoever caught his fancy, though it rarely went any further than drinks, a movie, dinner, once or twice sex.
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife sometimes.
A few weeks later, Halstead still wouldn't call the trauma surgeon a friend, but he had become more intrigued than annoyed with him and his methods.
Because something was clearly off about that man.
Something was different. On a level few people could truly perceive, but Will knew it. Instinctually. Now that he had finally let go of the animosity and stubborn opposition he felt rising whenever Connor did something, he had become aware of it.
Something was…
He sensed it. With every fiber of his being.
So he let the annoyance go and just worked with Rhodes, bit back on the automatic defenses, let himself become a watcher.
Something inside of him reacted strongly, felt something… something that seemed incredibly compatible to his own preter-side, which was alarming all by itself.
He shouldn't be feeling this way! Will Halstead had no other, missing half. It was not how his abilities worked! He could become what was needed, but never completely, to match any given super or preter who needed temporary aid.
Will couldn't put his finger on it, which irked him even more than the mere existence of Dr. Connor Rhodes. It had never happened before, so his inability to pin down just what triggered his natural ability to tell just who and what someone was when it came to the preter- and supernatural had Will on edge even more.
And always, always!, something prickled along his senses. Teasing him. Whispering against him, muted but powerful.
It was driving him mad. Rhodes was driving him mad! It had nothing to do with seniority anymore, but despite his best intentions, the annoyance rose again, manifesting in glares and sharp words.
So they clashed even more, mostly away from patients, but sometimes in front of coworkers. Will took the slightest perceived infringement, personal insult or even the mere opinion the other man had to let his temper get the better of him.
He wanted a rise out of Connor. He wanted to know what the man was, to bring it out past those damned shields the other insisted on keeping around his core, and finally appease the part in Will that was restlessly pacing at the borders of his mind, snarling and spitting at his absolute loss when it came to Rhodes.
But there was nothing.
He refused to lose sleepless nights over that.
He also refused to play nice when the other man so clearly didn't make attempts either. He wouldn't hold back on an opinion and he sure as hell wouldn't just knuckle under, fellow or not fellow.
Until the DNR patient. And the first time they went for drinks together at Molly's. Connor paid, but Will didn't fight him on that, though he had fought him on buying lunch breaks. He hated the reminder that the guy came from serious money, that he had it to throw around, while Will scraped together what he could to splurge a little now and then on his medical allowance.
He didn't want charity. Lunch bought by Rhodes was charity when it came to one Dr. William Halstead, though his friends and colleagues had no qualms accepting free food.
Will had. Lots of qualms and some serious, personal issues.
So he rather went hungry than join in on the offer to buy a round of sandwiches or tacos.
Molly's was okay, though Will stuck with generic beer, never too expensive stuff, and he didn't order snacks.
Connor did and they ended up sharing.
Damn the man!
Rhodes stood him up the second time, which chafed Will more than he would ever confess to, but when he saw the other man the next morning, looking like death warmed over and in no mood to play their usual games, he pushed his anger aside.
Sometimes they lost patients. Patients who had looked good, had been stable; patients who had never had a chance to begin with, but they had been hopeful. And Patients who touched something in their doctors.
The young woman Connor had lost on the table had been such a person; she had touched something inside the experienced doctor.
Will reached out and offered a second try at Molly's. This time it happened and they mostly drank in silence, exchanging few words, but Will listened to the little that was said. He heard more than Connor was probably comfortable with, and he wondered if the other was an empath.
Then again, it didn't fit the rest of the whole picture. It didn't fit Rhodes!
Nothing fit! Will wanted to tear out his hair and bite his nails. Why was it so hard? He could nail most abilities in his sleep but this one!
Empaths didn't go into medicine to become trauma surgeons or ER doctors. They went into psychology and social sciences. They were therapists. Latent empaths usually had nursing positions.
So, no.
Connor might have been blindsided by what the loss of the patient had done to him emotionally, but he had bounced back.
Halstead still chewed on the enigma this man was, not getting anywhere.
It didn't help that with their developing personal relationship came a renewed interest in the man himself. The attraction was still there, had always been there. Low-key, sometimes flaring at the most inopportune moments, but there was also an invisible wall that had something to do with what Connor really was.
They had started a tentative work relationship that had developed into an also tentative friendship. With ups and downs.
But it was a start.
Rocky, with some full stops and detours, but he was trying to get to know the other man, not just the trauma surgeon.
Because Connor was a puzzle Will wanted to solve for his own sanity. He needed to understand what his senses were trying to tell him, why they pulled and pushed him closer, only to shut down and leave him reeling.
Working together grew smoother. Their clashes were over mundane things, their arguments about a treatment or the best course of action almost tame.
They talked more.
Their relationship changed.
Will started to call Connor a friend, at least in his head.
He started to accept lunch treats when it was just the two of them, no other doctors or nurses with them.
Connor would give him those small smiles, almost thankful, and he never pressured him into returning the gesture, though Halstead insisted to even the balance by buying at Molly's.
Sometimes the smiles were shyly flirtatious; so not fitting the hard-ass, commanding presence in the ED. Such a contradiction.
Nothing came of them, though.
And Will became aware of aborted moves, of Connor wanting to be closer and stopping himself, of something in those eyes, like a longing. For a while Will suspected that his colleague was not sure about his preferences, but that was off the table not much later. Connor was clearly not just now discovering he was attracted to men and women.
Because he ignored every kind of flirtation from women and other men, too. Patients, paramedics, fire crew, law enforcement, you name it. He turned down clear offers and some very blatant come-ons. The man simply didn't let anyone get close. And if he was roped into a drink or shared lunch, he never followed up on it.
As for the fact that they were working at the same hospital, the same ED? No, Will doubted that was it either.
Connor held back from getting involved with anyone. The handsome ER fellow with money to burn, the man who could have anyone with just a look and a smile, didn't. All of his relationships were professional, not personal.
All but one.
Because he clearly wanted more with one Dr. Will Halstead. He sought out Will's opinion sometimes, dropped by the breakroom when Will was drinking coffee just to chat, and when they were alone, he stood closer than was just between friends. He seemed to lean closer without physically moving, his whole body loosened up, muscles no longer so tense, and sometimes he would just close his eyes and… be.
Will was mesmerized in those brief moments, hardly daring to breathe or twitch a muscle. He felt it, his senses logging onto the other man, trying to... what? It was like he was back in his teenage years, working on understanding his skills, his abilities, how mimicking worked, and failing so many times.
Who the hell are you, Rhodes? he thought frantically. What are you? What is this?
tbc...