“okay, i’m sick.”

Her brothers, Will and Jay Halstead, sat beside her. Will’s hand was on her shoulder, a quiet reassurance that helped ground her, while Jay’s gaze never left her, protective and sharp as always. The three of them had been by her side through everything, and today was no different. But there was a sense of worry in the air—something unspoken, something Y/N couldn’t quite shake.

Connor finally broke the silence, his voice calm and measured. “Y/N, after all the tests and evaluations, we have a diagnosis. It’s been a long journey, but I can finally give you some answers.” He paused for a moment, watching her carefully. “You have Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, or POTS.”

Y/N blinked, trying to make sense of the words. “POTS?” she repeated, her voice a little too shaky for her liking. “What does that mean?”

Connor nodded, shifting slightly in his seat. “It’s a condition that affects your autonomic nervous system. Essentially, your body has difficulty regulating blood flow and heart rate when you change positions. That’s why you’ve been feeling dizzy, fatigued, and having trouble with your heart rate. It’s not a simple fix, but it’s manageable with treatment, lifestyle changes, and a lot of care.”

Her brothers were quiet, their eyes flicking between each other, and Y/N could feel their concern, but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on it. The words Connor had spoken started to sink in. POTS. She had it.

But the thought that stuck with her, the one that sent a cold chill down her spine, was the one that had been lurking in the back of her mind since she’d started to feel unwell. She wasn’t just scared of the diagnosis. What scared her was how it would affect her job. She had worked so hard to become a surgical assistant in the maternity ward at Med, helping with births and supporting new mothers. It was her dream job, her calling. And now, all of that felt threatened.

“I—” She inhaled sharply, the panic creeping in. Her chest tightened, and the words she was about to say felt like they were choking her. “I’m going to have to stop working, aren’t I?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I can’t be on my feet all day… I’ll have to leave the maternity ward.”

Jay immediately noticed the change in her demeanor and leaned forward, his voice firm yet gentle. “Y/N, don’t jump to conclusions. We’ll figure this out.”

But she couldn’t shake the image in her mind of losing everything she had worked for, of being told she couldn’t do the one thing that brought her joy. Her heart raced, and the room felt like it was closing in on her. “I can’t stop. I love what I do,” she choked out, her breath quickening. “I can’t… I won’t be able to—”

Will placed a hand on her knee, trying to calm her. “You’re not giving up on anything, Y/N. We’ll find a way to make this work. We always do.”

But the panic didn’t stop. It escalated, her breath coming in short gasps as her vision started to blur. She could feel the world around her spinning, her heart hammering in her chest as if it were trying to escape. The anxiety, the fear of change—it was too much.

Connor’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he moved to her side. “Y/N, look at me,” he said softly, his voice steady. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her back into her chair. “Breathe, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out together.”

But she couldn’t stop the rising panic. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding in her ears, and the overwhelming fear of losing everything was suffocating.

“Con…” She gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to lose my job… I don’t want to stop helping… I don’t want to stop working in the maternity ward.”

Connor’s voice remained calm and reassuring. “You’re not losing anything, Y/N. We’ll make adjustments. You’ll still be able to work, but we have to take care of your health first. This condition doesn’t define you, okay?”

Jay, who had been watching her with a concerned but protective gaze, placed a hand on her other shoulder. “Sweetheart, listen to us. You’re not alone in this. We’re not going anywhere.”

Y/N’s breathing slowed slightly as she looked from one brother to the other, then to Connor, who was watching her with such tenderness. The love and care in their eyes slowly helped to quell the rising panic, and she took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm herself.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice fragile.

Connor’s expression softened, his hand now resting on her back, rubbing gentle circles. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time, Y/N. You’re still going to do the work you love, but we’ll make sure it’s safe for you. We’ll find a way.”

Will nodded, his voice steady. “We’ll take it slow, and we’ll make sure you get the treatment and support you need. You don’t have to do this alone.”

For the first time since the diagnosis, Y/N felt a flicker of hope. Her world wasn’t ending—she wasn’t losing everything she loved. It was going to be hard, and there would be changes, but with her brothers and Connor by her side, she knew she could find a way to continue doing what she loved.

With a deep breath, she finally relaxed, allowing herself to lean into the comforting presence of her family. She wasn’t alone, and for the first time, she could see a future where she could still help others and take care of herself.

“Okay,” she whispered, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Okay, we’ll do it together.”

And with that, she finally allowed herself to believe that things could still be okay.