Chapter Sixty-Two: Game Over

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At Chicago Med Will was finding it very hard to concentrate.   Being back at work was proving a hindrance rather than a distraction from his current worries.      The thought that his kid brother might actually let himself die to keep his promise to his mother was something which haunted him.    Ever since this whole thing started he had become very familiar with the recrimination game.    He knew he had done many things wrong in regard to his little brother.   The worst of which was leaving him deal with their mothers' terminal illness alone.  At the time of course the redhead had rationalised that he had Med School and was too busy but in later years that decision to stay away before and after his mothers' death proved to be his biggest regret where Jay was concerned.   Jays' mother wasn't only his parent but also his best friend.   In fact apart from his mother the only best friend Jay had had been of the canine variety.   Thinking of that now exacerbated his guilt.  To think their father had killed Max just to hurt to his son sickened Will but what distressed even more was that he had actually believed his fathers' story.    Conor and Ethan had told him on numerous occasions that he could not have known but their well intentioned words did nothing to assuage his guilt.   Sighing the Doctor forced himself to concentrate on the form he was supposed to be filling out.  Worrying would not do any good he chided himself for the umpteenth time.   He just hoped he got to see his brother again and had a chance to finally talk with him about their childhood.  It was a conversation he had avoided for years.

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In the darkening warehouse Halstead Senior shook himself out of his stupor and stopped looking at the empty place before him.  Moving his head he looked on the ground to see his son lying down.  An evil grin began to form but then a sudden pain in his left shoulder demanded his attention.   Looking away from the prone figure the old man looked at the source of the pain with a frown marring his features.   A red stain was spreading outward and automatically he raised his right hand to cover it.     

"What the ......,"
"Guess you're going to live old man," Jay spoke hoarsely as he forced himself up from the harsh surface, a dislocated left shoulder not helping the manoeuvre.
"How .......?"
"None of your damn business!" Jay growled as he walked over and pulled the surprised man to his feet after retrieving some plastic ties from his pocket, "put your hands out."
"Go to hell!"
"Have it your way," Jay moved with lightning quick speed, picking up the discarded gun from the table and striking the old man with it across his forehead, rendering him unconscious.

Twenty minutes later the building was mostly wrapped in darkness as Halstead Senior woke to find himself sitting on the ground with his hands and legs bound.  A look at his injured shoulder told him it had been crudely dressed, hence his missing shirt.  The jacket over him didn't do much to provide warmth as he looked around for his target.

"Thought you were going to sleep all day," Jay approached out of the shadows soundlessly as he looked at his cell and turned on the torch directing the light towards his father before placing the device on the wooden table, "ambulance should be here soon."
"How did you know .......?"
"None of your business," the weary man cut off the question.

He wasn't about to tell the old man that as a natural born Marksman he had developed skills which surpassed everyone in his field at Ranger School. One such skill was the ability to judge from how the weight was distributed in a barrel where the bullet was  in the chamber.   Not that such a skill was ever taught during the 61 day course at Fort Benning.   Jay could still remember his grizzled Drill Sergeant, Sean Donovan, pulling him aside one humid Georgia afternoon and  informing him that he had never before come across someone with Jays' natural ability.   For anyone else it would have been accepted as the compliment it was intended to be but for Jay it had simply reinforced his sense of worthlessness.   All he was good for was shooting.    Sighing he absently put a hand up to his aching left shoulder.   Just before pressing the gun to his temple he had changed the barrels' direction and fired as he dove to the ground in case the shot somehow missed and his father reached across the table to tackle him.  Taking advantage of the old mans' insensate state he had  rammed his shoulder into a wall to force the dislocated joint back into place.   The agony of that manoeuvre had nearly sent him spiralling into darkness but he had managed to avoid passing out by sheer willpower.   He was not about to give his father the upper hand.  Looking at the cell he checked the time.   The ambulance would be well on its' way, as would the Unit.  He sighed at the thought of all the questions he would have to deal with then decided to make use of what time he had with the other man.   He knew once taken into custody the old man would be kept out of his reach.  He needed answers.

"So where did you get the rifles?" Jay asked as he sat down on a crate across from the restrained man.
"None of your business!"
"Tell me."
"You cheated!  That bullet should have killed you but you chickened out!"
"Never been afraid to die," the younger man stated with calm honesty, "but I wasn't going to give you the satisfaction."
"So you failed the test," the bleeding man spoke angrily as his wrists began to chafe as he fought his bonds.
"Your so called 'tests' mean nothing.  Just like you old man."
"Don't call me that!"
"You gonna stop me?"
"Says the boy who couldn't even save his dog!"
"You listen to me," Jay rose wearily as sirens blared in the distance, "you should die for what you did to Max alone.  The only reason you are still breathing is because of the promise I made to Mom."
"Why you little .........," whatever Halstead Senior said was cut off by a hand pressed into his wound as doors slammed outside.
"I'm a patient guy.  Real patient.  My Unit is here.   Just remember you want to deal with them instead of me old man because if I have have to talk to you again you'll wish you were already dead."

Jay released his hold and turned from the scared man as the door burst open.      Straightening he cradled his left arm with his right and turned to face his team and Conor.   The Surgeon approached him with two Paramedics.  Shaking his head minutely so as not to aggravate the neck muscles leading down into the damaged shoulder he spoke quietly.

"I'm fine.  Deal with him."
"Conor take Jay outside," Hank had been assessing his subordinate and did not like what he was seeing, then gestured coolly to the man on the ground, "the Paramedics will deal with that."
"Damn glad you called man," Adam slowly approached his friend and placed a hand around his back to get him moving towards the door as Conor moved to his other side.
"I'm fine."
"Like to believe that but the way you're holding your arm tells me different," Conor chided gently as they guided the pale man to the rear of the waiting ambulance, "just sit down and let me take a look at you.   Make sure there's nothing broken."
"There's not," Jay insisted as he was pushed down, "it was only dislocated."
"What? Your elbow or shoulder?" Adam exchanged a glance with the Surgeon.
"Shoulder," Jay couldn't hide a groan as Conor took off his jacket to check the injury, "it's okay.   I put it back in."
"How?" Conor demanded after unbuttoning the black shirt without preamble and revealing the reddish tinge of forming bruises encompassing the shoulder and upper arm.
"Jay how did you get it back in?" Adam asked when his friend remained silent, he had suffered a shoulder dislocation once and the pain nearly killed him.
"Doesn't matter," Jay was not about to explain that he was familiar with his shoulder being dislocated.
"Well we'll x-ray it just to be sure it's fully back in place," Conor finished his  examination noting the too loose jeans as he quickly buttoned up the shirt before climbing into the back of the ambulance to get something,  "have you sorted in no time."
"Not going to hospital," the tired man got to his feet awkwardly as the Surgeon climbed down and quickly placed his left arm into a sling which the young man accepted without protest attesting to the discomfort he was in.
"You need to get checked out."
"I need to finish this," Jay didn't even flinch as a scream emanated from the warehouse just as the two Paramedics walked out carrying their equipment looking decidedly ruffled.
"You sure?" Adam asked his friend after sending a warning look to the dark haired man.
"I'm sure," Jay confirmed and headed back into the warehouse as Adam shadowed him.

tbc

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