Tolerance Book I (Chicago PD/Med FF) by Frances51163

Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen: Check Up

Chicago Med

Two days later Jay ran into Kelly in the Emergency reception area as he was on the way in for his check up.

"Hey how are things?" the Firefighter asked as he turned down his radio.
"Good," the Detective replied around a yawn, "thanks again for the other night,"
"Any time. Course I told Herrmann that sending his customers to another bar was not good for business."
"You didn't tell him we went to Mollys North?" Jay was surprised,
"Nah," Kelly grinned mischievously.
"Hey thought you'd forgotten," Conor had walked up behind the normally alert Detective and placed a hand on his shoulder as he began talking, startling him.
"Damn," Jay took a step away from the two concerned men and leant back against the wall, needing space, "sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
"Hardly surprising," Kelly observed quietly in deference to their busy surroundings, "I don't need a medical degree to know you haven't been sleeping."
"Kelly!"
"Jay he's not saying anything I don't know," the Surgeon pointed out kindly, "you ready to come upstairs?"
"Yeah," the Detective pushed himself away from the wall before turning to the Firefighter, "see you around."
"Sure and remember what I told you the other night," Kelly said cryptically as he patted the smaller mans' back before heading off with a nod to the Surgeon.
"How long will this take Conor?" Jay enquired as he followed the older man through Emergency and up to the next floor via the stairwell rather than the elevators, much to his relief.
"Should have you scanned, poked and prodded in about an hour," Conor winked throwing his friends' usual complaints back at him.
"Hell that's a great bedside manner you have!" Jay tossed back his familiar sarcastic response as they reached the first floor.
"I don't see a bed in sight," the Surgeon said in his defence before stopping in the relatively quiet hallway and turning to face the young man seriously, "Jay I want to do an MRI to work out what's causing the headaches.  Would you consider taking a tranquilliser to help you relax?"
"No way!" the pale man shook his head vehemently and took a stop away from his friend subconsciously.
"Hey listen to me Jay," Conor instructed softly, allowing the distance between them, "it was only a suggestion.  No one is going to try to do anything to you you don't want done. You have my word."
"Promise?" Jay ducked his head feeling like a child again, there was a reason he hated hospitals.
"Promise," the Surgeon assured readily, "so I figure if we do the MRI first then you won't have to worry about it okay?"
"Were you ..... going to do it first anyway?" the young Detective raised his head and finally looked at his friend.
"Yes," Conor lied without hesitation knowing if he said otherwise the man would insist on doing whatever he had initially organized, "now you need to sign some paperwork so you wait in here," Conor pointed to the small office behind him, "and I'll get you the forms."
"Okay."

An hour and fifteen minutes later Jay was back in the office waiting for the Surgeon with the scans, blood tests and examination completed, despite an adamant refusal to wear a hospital gown.  He had worn his jeans throughout. Despite Conors' worries the MRI had been carried out without any problems.  Unbeknownst to the other man he had called in a couple of favours and got him to the top of the list for the scan.  So what if it cost him a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.  It was worth it.  Jay glanced at his cell.  No messages. Not that he had expected any.  After careful deliberation he had asked Voight if it would be okay if he took a few vacation days to make a long weekend for himself.  The older man had agreed immediately but pointed out he could take the days as sick leave.  He declined that option.  It would have felt wrong, especially in view of the time he had missed since the attack.  When he had shared that view with the Sergeant the man had explained that most of the time when he was in their version off witness protection he was on the payroll, just like the others.  They were working a legitimate case after all.  The younger man hadn't been aware of this as the weekly salary went into his bank account and he hadn't been bothered too much about money over the past few months.  When he had begun to argue the validity of his wages the gruff man had told him in no uncertain terms that the subject was closed.  Thinking back on the conversation as he waited Jay knew how lucky he had been to be assigned to Intelligence.  His life could have been completely different otherwise.  That was something he never took for granted. Rubbing his temple he turned as the Surgeon returned with Will in tow.  Will who was supposed to be off Wednesdays which was why he picked the day.  He reigned in his frustration and opted for getting out of there as soon as possible.

"Hi Jay," Will walked over and sat down beside his brother in front of the desk before explaining his presence, "got called in to cover a shift so figured I'd check in with you since I haven't seen you since Sunday."
"We don't live in each others' pockets," the tired man reminded as the Surgeon walked over and leant back against the desk in front of Jay, "so what's the verdict?  I need a brain transplant?"
"Surprisingly no," Conor smiled as he looked at the file in his hands, "there doesn't seem to be any bleeding which was my main concern.  As I explained to you before sometimes with a head injury there can be delayed complications.  Unfortunately without anything showing up I can't diagnose the exact cause of the headaches.  You suggested you were getting migraines again but typically if you suffer them in your childhood and grow out of them they don't reoccur.  Of course there are always exceptions to the rule."
"I can live with migraines," Jay informed the two men confidently.
"Well I was wondering if you would consider seeing a Pain Specialist," the black haired man suggested as he put the file down on the desk behind him, "you could try a different combination of meds to find out what works."
"And he could try migraine medication first," Will interjected before hastily adding, "I met Conor out in the corridor.  He only said migraines couldn't be ruled out."
"And what else?" the younger man prompted his brother.
"What?"
"What else did ye discuss?"
"I mentioned the possibility of you going to a Pain Specialist.  That's it Jay.  I promise."
"And that was on my agenda anyway," Conor joined in, "so what do you say?  I suggested a good guy here that Will has dealt with too."
"How come you got the MRI results back so soon?" Jay voiced his own question with a frown.
"I spoke to the Radiologist and then the Neurosurgeon."
"Well?" the older sibling asked.
"I'll think about it."
"That's fine ..," Conor began.
"You have to ...," Will found two glares sent his way, what the hell, he was only trying to help the stubborn man!
"He doesn't have to do anything," the Surgeon asserted evenly before looking at his patient, "you ring me when you make up your mind."
"Will do," Jay rose carefully in deference to his now throbbing head and offered his hand, "I'll let you know when I make a decision."
"Jay can I drive you home? I'm finished for the day," Will ventured, as he too stood up, expecting to be turned down but was pleasantly surprised.
"Okay.  If you have the time."
"Great," the redhead smiled, his relief palpable.

The older Halstead didn't know it but his brother only agreed to the lift to assuage his own guilt because he intended to take off that evening without telling anyone, well almost anyone.

tbc