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That nagging feeling when you hate the OC of the fic you are currently reading but you have to push through because there aren’t many complete works, the fandom is pretty much dead and you are too mentally drain to write something yourself. Anyone? No? Just me? Alright.
• Warnings: mention of gun shots, prostitution, drugs, blood, violence, curse words. Let me know if there’s something else lol.
• Word count: 10k.
• A/N: guess who’s backkkk. Sorry for this I know it’s a long one lmao but I hope you like it, let me know in the comments what you think guys! I missed you so much, I’m trying to get back to writing even if it’s harder than I thought 😭 thank you always for your support, and thank you especially to everyone who stayed. I love you all ❤️
“Hey Halstead, you could finish filling out this case report instead of decorating the office,” you began, throwing him a paper ball from your desk, which was directly across from his. He almost jumped, then pretended like it hadn’t caught him off guard, but you didn’t miss it, and that was enough to make you laugh shamelessly.
He shot you a dirty look before picking up the paper ball that had fallen onto his laptop and throwing it back at you. You, however, weren’t taken aback and managed to catch it.
“Sorry, Miss Detective, but I haven’t gotten a master’s degree in hieroglyphics yet, so next time please write in English.”
You pressed your lips together because — you hated to admit it — that joke almost made you laugh. Almost.
You and Jay had been working together in Intelligence for years, having joined the team a year after him. You couldn’t exactly call your relationship with Jay idyllic, not the kind of relationship you had between friends. In fact, you bickered more often than you were ‘at peace.’
You didn’t mind, though. It’d be an exaggeration to say you hated Jay, he wasn’t the most pleasant company sometimes either, but he was a solid partner, and for some strange and absurd reason, your partnership worked and it worked very well.
Whether in the field, during interrogations, or on undercover missions, you and Jay had a connection that would’ve had a hard time believing.
It was true, you bickered often, you almost never agreed, there wasn’t a moment when one of you didn’t say something the other didn’t respond to with a stinging, sarcastic retort. You were both stubborn as mules, your personalities clashed like lightning and thunder, but outside the unit, you knew you could count on him, and he on you. And that would never change.
Before you could respond to his answer—and by respond, you meant throwing him the paper ball again—Voight’s gravelly voice urged you to stop wasting time and get to work right away.
You returned to the files on your desk, but not before glaring at Jay, who winked back at you, a mischievous smile plastered across his lips before he, too, resumed reading the report.
A wink. A damn wink.
Did you mention that one of the reasons you found Jay Halstead so damn annoying was that he was so handsome and attractive that it made your blood boil? Well, now you know.
It wasn't something you struggled to hide—you were the kind of person who managed to stay in control—but you hated the way that man seemed to make every cell in your body ignite with excitement, and how damnably drawn you were to him like a moth to a flame, despite him being unbearable most of the time.
The calm of the morning was suddenly interrupted when a case came in. Intelligence had been called following the kidnapping of the mayor’s son. Since it was a high-profit case, all the city’s attention was focused on it, and the entire police force was working on it.
The team worked day and night to bring Nate home, turning the boy’s and his father’s lives upside down. There were many suspects; there were many people who hated the mayor and who might have targeted the boy to get revenge on his father.
“It’s personal, of course. They made no calls, no ransom demands or money, no ‘don’t involve the police or your son is dead,’ whoever kidnapped Nate knew what they were getting into; they kidnapped him to directly attack the mayor,” Jay had said while the team was in the unit discussing the case. You glanced at Jay as he spoke, you sitting at your desk and he sitting on the edge of his, arms crossed over his chest. Voight nodded, agreeing with Halstead.
“And it’s a team effort. No one could kidnap the mayor’s son alone and go unnoticed,” Kim continued.
“We need to divide the tasks and we need to hurry, the boy’s life is hanging in the balance. Like Halstead said, it’s personal, so whoever kidnapped him won’t kill him until they get something from the mayor. This gives us some time to investigate possible suspects,” Voight intervened. “Atwater and Burgess interview all his friends and any possible witnesses. Ruzek and Upton locate nearby cameras and analyze the footage. Halstead and Y/Ln investigate the mayor’s background, threatening calls or letters, anything that might indicate a threat.”
You and Jay exchanged a look, and he wiggled his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes in annoyance before you stood up from your desk.
“I’ll drive,” Jay said as you headed to the car to talk to the mayor himself. The tension between you was palpable, but as usual, you suppressed it, trying to convince yourself it was just the tension from the case you were investigating.
Before you could respond, you saw him heading for the driver’s seat and huffed loudly, getting in the car yourself a few seconds later. “I’m perfectly capable of driving too, you know?”
Jay glanced at you, unconsciously taking a few extra nanoseconds to look at you as you put on your seatbelt. “I want to get to the destination alive, nothing personal.”
His gaze lingered for a moment on your profile, the line of your nose and jaw, the outline of your lips. It lasted almost literally a millisecond, and as soon as he saw you turning toward him, he immediately looked away, taking the car keys from his pants pocket and inserting them into the ignition.
“You didn’t just say that after I saved your life in that car chase last week.”
He laughed softly as he started the car, unable to resist looking at you again. “You’re never going to let it go, are you?”
A triumphant smile spread across your face, and Jay sucked in a breath. “No. Never.”
He remained still for a moment, one hand resting on the steering wheel. There was only a few moments of silence, during which the only sound echoing was that of the engine having just started. Every trace of your teasing smiles had vanished from your faces as your eyes met, his deep, searching ones staring at you, studying you with such intensity you almost looked away.
But you didn’t.
And neither did he, not in that moment.
If Jay had looked down, he would’ve seen the way your fingers were gripping the edges of your jacket tightly, how your breathing had slowed, heavier, as if every breath of air was struggling to reach your lungs.
Jay wanted to say something, he knew exactly what, and he knew that if he did, nothing would be the same again, so he was the first to look away. He couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore, not when those irises seemed to want to suck him alive.
The silence hung heavy inside that cabin, filled with unspoken words and unexpressed thoughts.
As Jay drove, he tried to keep his focus on the road, on the case, and not on the woman sitting next to him, whose presence seemed to fill every space of his being.
But he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he didn’t always have the chance to look at you that closely, that often, if not from afar. He’d almost forgotten all those details of your face that he couldn’t admire from afar, every little imperfection and detail of your skin that made you unique.
Because from afar, he couldn’t notice those details. He could only look at you when you were talking to Kim, for example, while you were all together in the kitchen drinking that awful coffee, when you gesticulated with your hands while discussing something, looking at you furrow your brows when you were perplexed, highlighting the little wrinkles in the middle of your forehead.
He could only see how you tied your hair with a pencil when you didn’t have a ponytail, how strangely you held your pen while filling out case reports, how you threw your head back when you laughed heartily and had the habit of hitting the arm of anyone nearby. But he also saw when he occasionally caught you looking at him and how you blushed when he did, then pretended nothing was wrong or just gave him the middle finger out of spite.
“Planet Earth calling Halstead, are you still here among us mere mortals?” Your voice caught his attention, not even realizing how lost he was in his thoughts.
“Sorry, you’re so annoying my brain tuned out your voice for a moment,” he couldn’t help but retort, because if there was one thing he loved to do and looked forward to every day, it was to piss you off.
He couldn’t help but chuckle when you hit him on the arm. “Piece of shit.”
“Oh c’mon, I was just kidding. I was just thinking about the case. What were you saying?”
What a load of bullshit, buddy.
You started discussing the case, and that brief moment, that dangerous exchange of glances that had taken place only minutes before, seemed to have already faded into oblivion, and he tried to convince himself, trying to forget how much it had made his heart skip a beat.
A notification on your phone interrupted the conversation for a few seconds. about the case, and when you unlocked it, you saw a message and a missed call.
From Mr. Sanders:
Y/n, I tried calling you, but I assume you‘re at work. Call me as soon as you can, it’s important.
A feeling of anxiety made your stomach twist. Mr. David Sanders was a man in his fifties, elegant and refined in appearance, and he was your lawyer.
Jay glanced at you, noticing your momentary silence, frowning for a moment as he saw you quickly typing on your phone.
“Everything okay over there?” Jay began, breaking the silence.
You quickly locked the phone before putting it back in your jacket, immediately adopting your usual cheeky and provocative expression. “What’s up, Halstead? You afraid I’m cheating on you?”
But Jay knew you well. Too well, even though you’d never admit it and he knew something was bothering you.
He also knew you’d never tell him willingly, always wanting to put on the superhero mask that could solve everything on her own, no matter what the problem.
“Have any of you noticed anything strange? A suspicious car, any unusual behavior?” Jay asked, addressing the mayor directly once you reached his house.
“What the hell do you care about this? My boy is God knows where, and you’re wasting your time with these stupid questions?!”
"We understand your frustration and assure you that our team and the entire police force are working tirelessly to find your son, and we won’t stop until he comes home,” you replied, your voice calm, understanding a father's frustration and concern for his son. “But we have reason to believe this attack is personal, so anything you can tell us can help us find the man who did this and your son’s whereabouts.”
The mayor ran his hands over his face in frustration, getting up from the couch and pacing around the living room.
“I get threatening letters practically every week. It’s hard to keep track of them and separate the serious ones from the fake ones.”
“Were any of these letters particularly violent or specific? Anything that might indicate a premeditated plan?” Jay asked, his hands in his pockets as his eyes followed the mayor as he paced nervously around the living room.
He hesitated for a moment, as if considering it, then nodded. “There was a letter a couple of months ago. It was about revenge. It said I would pay with ‘what I love most.’ It was disturbing, but there was nothing concrete.” The mayor gasped, starting to cry desperately. “It’s my fault… I… My boy, my baby…”
You and Jay exchanged a meaningful look before he approached the mayor, placing a hand on his shoulder and steadying him. Your heart broke for that poor, broken family, unable to begin to imagine what they were going through. “It’s not your fault, okay? Look at me, Mr. King. Your son is fine. Whoever did this wants to make you suffer. They haven’t gotten what they really want yet, and if they still haven’t reached out, it means Nate is still alive; they won’t do anything to him without your knowledge. That’s the point of his kidnapping.”
The mayor wiped away his tears, nodding feebly. “I’ll give you the letter.”
Scanning it, you noticed that the language was indeed violent and specific, but the signature was only an initial: “R.”
Jay tilted his head, thoughtful, before turning to the mayor. “It seems personal, like we said before. Do you recognize that initial?”
“I-I don’t… I don’t know… It could be anyone. Like I said, I have a lot of enemies,” he replied.
“We’ll have our technicians analyze it right away. We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything,” you said. “We’ll find Nate.”
During the rest of the day, you worked tirelessly, but your mind was racing, and you hated yourself for realizing that none of it was directed at the case.
Your attention was focused solely on that message from Sanders, on what he had to tell you. When you called him, you were in the locker room. It was already seven in the evening, and with each ring, your heart was beating faster and faster.
“Hello dear, it’s nice to hear you, how are you?” Mr. Sanders answered.
“Good evening, Dave. I’m fine thank you. I’m sorry to bother you now, but I’m busy with work. There’s a case…”
“Oh yeah, that boy’s kidnapping, I suppose. Bad story.”
“Yeah,” you sighed. “What did you want to talk about? It doesn’t take a detective to figure out it’s not something good.”
Sanders chuckled, but it was a bitter laugh, there was no humor behind it. “It’s about Marcus.”
Your breath caught for a moment. “What about him?”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I did everything in my power, but…” he sighed this time. “He got parole, he’s out of prison.”
“What?” You said, but it came out moreIt was like a whisper, and for a moment you prayed you’d misheard, that your brain hadn't processed those words correctly. “How is this possible? After everything he did... To those girls, those people... To me!”
You were furious, not at Sanders, but at the system that was supposed to protect you.
“I’m so sorry. He got a deal after leaking the names of several big people, and we’re not talking about just any people, but political figures, senators, doctors, lawyers, CEOs...”
“And obviously, some people’s names are worth more than justice.”
“I wish I could say you’re not right, but you know I’m on your side darling. I did everything I could,” he spoke. “But you’ll be safe, he’ll be monitored closely and the first mistake he makes he’ll be back in prison...”
You let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “And you think that’ll stop him?” you snapped. “I have to go, Dave, thanks for letting me know.”
“Y/n, wait, how are you now?”
“I’ll be fine,” you muttered. You were brought back to Earth when the locker room door opened, revealing Jay with a tired, worn-out expression. “I have to go, bye.”
You ended the call and then casually tossed your phone into your bag, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You’d be fine. Whatever happened, you’d be able to get through it, like you always did.
“I thought you’d left,” he spoke first as he looked while he approached his locker. He watched you pretend to search for something in your locker and immediately noticed how you constantly avoided his gaze.
“Apparently not yet,” you replied in a cold, distant tone.
Jay didn’t respond, but as he opened his locker, he continued to steal glances at you. Even a blind man could’ve noticed your tense posture, your frown, your heavy breathing, the way you avoided his gaze.
He’d noticed something had shifted since you’d gotten that call, but he tried to mind his own business, knowing that if he asked you anything, you’d probably just shoot him in the face.
“Well, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, goodnight.”
Jay left, but not before giving you one last look. You weren’t looking at him; your eyes seemed to be focused on something undefined.
You sat in the locker room for an eternity as your mind replayed your last encounter with Marcus Kane, his angry shouts, the threats he’d scream at you.
“I’ll come back, you bitch! You’ll pay for what you did to me! If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll kill you!” He screamed as they handcuffed him and led him into the police car, and those were the last words you heard before you lost consciousness, submerged in a pool of your own blood.
Your hand instinctively went to the scar on your side as those words continued to echo in your own, as if they had been spoken only moments before, as if you could still feel the knife piercing your skin.
You left, closing the door behind you, hoping that all of this was just a nightmare.
Three days had passed since that call, and you continued working.
Nothing happened, you didn’t receive any threatening calls but you always watched your back, your gun always within reach even when you slept, or at least when you tried.
In three days, you’d probably slept five hours, and the fatigue was starting to set in. You were stressed, constantly on edge, you had the constant feeling that someone was following you, and you knew Marcus Kane was out there waiting for you; you could sense him waiting for the right moment to attack you.
For three days, you worked nonstop on the case, day and night, to bring Nate home. He was still alive; there was video evidence of the kidnapper forcing him to demand his own ransom, after beating him almost to death.
“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack with all that caffeine,” Jay said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t expect to see you jump in fright, and he didn’t know whether to suppress a laugh or worry, because you weren’t the type of person who scared easily.
“You bastard,” you muttered in a not-so-low voice, not even looking at him, making him chuckle. “Thanks, but I didn’t ask for your medical advice, Halstead.”
“It was just an observation,” he commented, seeing the almost obsessive way you were stirring the sugar in your coffee.
“Well, go make observations somewhere else,” you replied, your back still turned toward him.
There was a brief moment of silence, as he continued to observe you, your stiff posture, the way you avoided looking him in the eye. Jay wasn’t stupid; he’d noticed this sort of change since you’d received that call. But he didn’t want to push you, he knew you’d withdraw even further.
You then turned to leave, but he pushed himself from the doorframe, preventing you from leaving. He noticed the slight tremor in your hand holding the cup and he couldn’t just act like nothing was happening. “Hey, are you okay?”
You sighed, your eyes still fixed on your cup before finally looking up at him. “I’m fine.”
A curt, mechanical reply, devoid of any emotion.
He looked at you for a few moments, his eyes fixed on yours almost as if he wanted to study you, as if he was searching for some way to extract the answers he knew he’d never voluntarily receive from you.
“Y/n. You’ve been fine for three days,” he replied, his voice tightening. “You’re not sleeping, you jump at the slightest noise. Whenever we’re out, all you do is look around.”
“You like me that much, huh?”
“I’m being serious, this isn’t you. What’s going on?”
Your jaw clenched. “You don’t know me well enough to decide what’s me and what’s not, do you?”
He let out a sigh, trying to keep his voice calm. “We’ve been working together for a while now, and I know fear when I see it.”
The silence that followed was heavy. You felt your throat tighten but swallowed hard, refusing to show it. “Drop it, Jay.”
He sighed again, realizing it’d be completely pointless to push any further. “Fine, do whatever you want.”
“Good.” And with that, you walked past him back to your desk.
-
The night air smelled of rain and tension, cold against your skin. The sound of water hitting the rusty metal of the warehouse provided a soft background, even soothing at times.
Through the earpiece, the team’s voices alternated with the crackling radio.
“Unit one in position.”
“Copy that.”
“Unit two.”
“Copy that.” Jay replied, ducking behind a stack of crates, his rifle ready. You were a little further ahead, your eyes fixed on the road, your fingers on your weapon, ready.
The money would be exchanged between the kidnapper and the mayor, and Intelligence was there, ready to capture the man and save the boy.
You kept looking around, nervous, impatient. Jay had noticed it, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t worry him.
“Breathe, Y/n,” Jay murmured, noticing the way you were trembling.
“I’m fine. I’m just cold, Halstead,” you replied, quickly glancing at him. Your clothes were now stuck on your skin, that much was true, and at other times you might’ve even been able to convince him, but not now, not with what had been happening to you lately.
“Let me know when you’ll believe it.”
You didn’t reply, but he knew you’d heard him.
“Target incoming,” Ruzek’s voice broke the silence.
A black van approached, its headlights now off, and stopped a few meters from the entrance to the old warehouse. Everyone was silent, their breath held, the rain being the only sound.
A man climbed out of the driver’s seat. He walked around the van and, instead of opening the door, remained standing there, his furious gaze fixed on the mayor standing a few meters away, the bag containing the money in his hands.
A mask covered his face so you couldn’t see him. But it didn’t matter, the plan was simple. Get eyes on the kid. Make the exchange. Take the man down.
But it wasn’t simple. It never was.
“Here’s your money, where’s my son?” The mayor’s voice was shaky.
“Give me my money first.”
“That wasn’t the deal. Give me my son and I’ll give you the money.”
The man pointed his gun at the mayor, and everyone stiffened, their weapons raised, ready for an order.
“Wait.” Voight ordered.
“You’ll pay for what you did to me,” the man retorted, and then the back doors of the van opened, but instead of the boy, two other masked men stepped out, both armed and their weapons ready to shoot.
“Gun!” Jay shouted, grabbing your arm and shoving you behind cover as the team spread out.
Your heart pounded in your ears.
Your eyes landed on the van and you saw a figure lying down in the back, you didn’t even know who it was. You didn’t think. You just moved.
Ignoring Jay’s warning, you broke from behind the crate, sprinting toward the van while bullets snapped past your head. The sound was deafening, every step a gamble. You almost reached it—
“Y/n!”
Jay’s voice cuts through everything. A second later, something hit you hard, him. He slammed into you, taking you down just as a bullet grazed the concrete where you’d been standing.
You hit the ground with a grunt, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs. Jay’s body covered yours, solid and heavy, his hand pressed against the back of your head to shield you as he returned fire.
For a moment, just a heartbeat, everything stilled.
The world narrowed to the smell of gunpowder and the sound of your ragged breaths tangled together. His eyes found yours, only inches away, fierce, terrified, and something else you couldn’t name.
Then his expression hardened.
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” he snappep, still half-hovering over you. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
“I—I saw him—”
“I don’t care!” he barked, voice sharp, chest rising and falling fast. “You move like that again, and you’re dead, do you hear me?!”
You swallowed hard, your pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with adrenaline. “Get off me.”
He hesitated — just for a second — before pushing himself up, still glaring at you as he scanned the perimeter.
The team closed in, the gunfire fading, suspects down, the boy saved, crying in his father’s arms. But Jay didn’t look away from you.
You brushed dirt off your vest, trying to ignore the sting in your arm where you’d hit the ground. “I had it under control.”
He lets out a low, humorless laugh, trying to keep his voice steady even if he was about to lose his mind. “Yeah. Sure you did.”
He walked off before you could answer, leaving you standing, breathing still shaking, and for some reason, the only thing you could think about was the look in his eyes when he’d covered you.
It wasn’t anger. It was fear.
The ride back was suffocatingly quiet and for the first time in your life you hated that Jay didn’t say anything, you hated he didn’t make his usual jokes just to piss you off, you hated he didn’t even look at you.
Streetlights flickered through the windshield, washing the inside of the car in flashes of yellow and shadow. The sirens had gone silent, replaced only by the steady hum of the tires on the asphalt.
You sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, your hands still faintly trembling. Every time you blinked, you could see it again, the van doors bursting open, the muzzle flashes, the moment Jay threw himself over you.
He still hadn’t said a single word since you got in the car.
Not one.
And somehow, that was worse than him yelling.
Finally, his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. “What the hell were you thinking out there?”
You didn’t turn. “I was just thinking about Nate, I saw him there…”
“You almost got yourself killed.”
“I had it under control.”
His jaw clenched. “No, you didn’t. For fucks sake stop lying to me and yourself, you did something stupid and for once in your fucking life admit it.”
Silence again thick and heavy. You swallowed hard, your voice lowering. “You don’t need to babysit me, Halstead. I can take care of myself.”
“What’s happening to you? Why are you acting like this?”
You turned at that, glaring at him. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve—” You stopped, realizing your voice had cracked. You looked away quickly, blinking hard.
You felt his eyes on you but you refused to look back, you weren’t able to look at him without breaking down.
Jay’s voice softened slightly, though frustration still edged it. “You’re right. I don’t know. But I know what I saw and... And it scared the hell out of me.”
That caught you off guard. You looked at him, but this time it was him who didn’t look back. He continued, his voice lower now, almost speaking to himself. “You can hate me all you want, but I’m not gonna stand there and watch you get yourself shot.”
You didn’t know what to say. The words tangled in your throat.
You wanted to be angry, to snap something back… But all you felt was exhaustion.
“You didn’t have to save me.”
He was glancing at you and for the first time he didn’t know what to say.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
When he pulled up in front of your building, you reached for the handle, but his hand landed gently on your arm. “You should call someone to stay with you tonight. After what happened...”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Stop saying…”
“I said I’ll be fine,” you repeated, already opening the door. You stepped out before he could say anything else, the cold air biting at your skin, already frozen due to the soaked clothes.
Jay watched you until you disappeared inside, that same gnawing unease twisting in his gut for days.
Your mind had managed to not think about what was happening to you for a few hours, but in your home, alone, those thoughts hit you again like a raging river.
You just wanted to sleep, you wanted so badly to close your eyes and rest just for a little bit, but Marcus Kane was still out there, hiding in the shadows, ready to attack you. How could you rest?
It had been almost four days since that call, and you hadn’t known peace since. You knew he’d look for you, that it wouldn’t take him long to find you, and you hated it all. You hated this wait, you hated the fear, you hated being scared to death in your own home, the place where you should feel most safe, you hated even having to shower with your gun beside you.
The apartment was quiet, too quiet.
You’d just stepped out of the shower, towel-drying your hair as you walked into the living room. The air still smelled faintly of shampoo and coffee.
For once, you thought maybe you could finally breathe.
But then the lights flickered.
And you froze, a prickle crawled up your neck.
You turned slowly toward the window, your heart almost stopped when you realized the lock was undone.
You remembered locking it. You knew you had because you checked it as soon as you got home.
How the hell was that possible?
Your pulse started pounding, sharp and shallow. You set the towel down, reaching for your gun that you now carried everywhere.
And then a voice, that voice.
“I always told you that your pride would be your downfall, sweetheart.”
You spun around and there he was.
Marcus Kane.
He was older, meaner, eyes burning with the same kind of hate you’d seen the day he was dragged into custody.
He took a step toward you, smirking. “Didn’t think you’d actually make it easy for me,” he muttered, glancing around. “Nice place, by the way. Better than the dump where I found you playing the perfect girlfriend.”
“Stay back,” you warned, gun raised, while trying to keep your hands as still as possible. “Don’t take another step,” your voice steady, not wanting to show fear. That was what he enjoyed most, seeing his victims scared to death, but you didn’t want to show him, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Oh, come on,” he said, voice dripping with mock affection. “After everything we’ve been through, you don’t even want to say hello?”
He didn’t even give you time to react.
The gun went flying as he slammed into you, both of you crashing into the coffee table but not before a shot landed in the void. Pain shot through your ribs as the wood cracked beneath you. He tried to pin you down, his forearm crushing against your throat, but you drove your knee into his side, hard.
He grunted, stumbled, and you scrambled to your feet, gasping. “You ruined my life!” he snarled, grabbing your wrist before punching you square in the face, making you step back. “Did you have fun pretending to fall in love with me? Making me trust you? You fucking bitch!”
You didn’t think, you just reacted.
It was your turn to punch him across the jaw, and you did it with all your strength, enough to make him stagger back.
He roared and swung again, but this time you were ready and dodged it. You shoved him back, grabbed the lamp from the side table, and smashed it against his head. He shouted, stumbled into the wall, enough for you to bolt toward the door. Or at least try.
He grabbed your hoodie, yanking you backward, and you felt the fabric tear, his breath hot against your ear. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart? We have unfinished business, you and I. You won’t get away that easily.”
You elbowed him in the side, and that was enough to make him loosen his grip around your neck, making it easy for you to turn toward him and punch him in the nose again. The crack was sickening, blood spraying as he cursed and fell to one knee.
You hit him in the face with your knee, with such force that he fell to the ground.
A kick to the stomach.
And another.
And another one.
And then you ran.
Down the hallway, out the door, barefoot, your heart thundering as his shouts echoed behind you.
You didn’t stop running, not when your feet hit the pavement, not when your shoulder screamed in pain, not when you realized you’d left everything behind except fear.
The TV was on, but Jay’s mind was focused on everything except the movie playing. He sipped occasionally from his beer bottle and couldn’t help but relive what had happened that day, the shooting, and you.
To be honest, he’d always had a hard time not thinking about you, even though he tried to convince himself otherwise.
What woke him from his reverie were loud knocks on the door, sharp, urgent.
He jumped and glanced at the clock: 12:47 AM.
Who the hell was that at that time?
He approached the door, and his heart almost stopped as he looked through the peephole.
He threw the door open, and there you were.
“Y/n...” he whispered, almost breathless, as his eyes scanned your body. You were soaked from head to toe, barefoot, your eyes wide open, tears mixing with the drops of water running down your cheeks, your body trembling. “What the hell—? Oh my god. What... What happened?”
A sob left your lips. “I… I don’t know where else to go…”
“Jesus Christ… Come here,” he without even thinking once pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your body. He didn’t care you were soaked from head to toe, he just wanted to hold you. “Shh, it’s okay… It’s all right, you’re safe now.”
To his surprise, you returned the hug, as you continued to sob, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it was your lifeline.
In all the years he’d known you, he’d never seen you like this, ever.
“It’s okay, everything’s okay, I’m here, I won’t let you go,” he kept whispering as he stroked your hair and held you tightly against his chest.
His stomach twisted with a feeling he’d never experienced before, with a rage so strong he’d raze the entire city if he could.
“Hey, look at me,” he whispered softly, pulling away from that embrace just enough to look at you. You avoided his gaze, as you had been doing for the past couple of days. “Look at me.”
The first thing he noticed when you slightly lifted your head was the purple bruise forming on your cheek. He wanted so badly to caress you, to wipe away those tears he hated to see, but he didn’t, he didn’t want to scare you away, make you feel uncomfortable.
“Talk to me, please. Who did this to you?” His voice was soft, sweet—a tone he’d never used with you—even as he tried to mask the anger and fear he was feeling in that moment.
You shook your head, not saying a word.
“Okay, okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now, okay? Come inside.”
You didn’t say anything, simply letting him lead you into his house, his hand on the small of your back as if he feared you might disappear at any moment.
It was ironic that this was the first time you’d seen his apartment and it was because something horrible had happened to you.
“Do you want anything? Some water? I can get you some clean clothes. You can take a shower if you want.”
You nodded, though you didn’t answer any of his questions. Jay stepped away for a moment, his heart still pounding as he went to his room and grabbed a pair of clean pants and a shirt from the drawer, then a pair of clean slippers before joining you in the living room. He’d found you in the same position, standing, arms crossed over your chest, staring into space.
“Here you go, take all the time you need. The bathroom is down the hall on the right; you’ll find clean towels and robes there.”
You grabbed your clothes, the trembling in your hands still there. He noticed the swelling of your hand, the cuts on your nuckles. You looked at him for a moment, and Jay felt as if he’d been hit in the gut, before whispering a faint, “Thank you.”
Jay ran his hands over his face in frustration, feeling more helpless than ever. What the hell had happened?
At that moment, his cell phone rang, and Voight's name lit up the screen.
Turns out, a patrol unit had reached your apartment after a neighbor called about what sounded like a gunshot. Upon arrival, an unknown man was found injured, confused, and still semi-conscious on your floor. The cops had called Voight after realizing the address belonged to one of the Intelligence members, but you weren’t there.
Jay reassured Voight you were with him, and you were fine, or at least seemingly so. Voight was investigating the man’s identity, and it didn’t take long to pinpoint his name: Markus Kane, a convicted felon who’d been released only a few days earlier after serving time for drug trafficking, prostitution, and murder.
It didn’t take Jay long to realize that the change in your behavior over the past few days was due precisely to Kane’s release.
“Keep an eye on her Halstead,” Voight said before ending the call.
“Of course, don’t even mention it.” The call ended, and Jay let out a sigh before placing his phone on the coffee table.
He went into the kitchen and started heating up some water so he could make you some hot tea. He didn’t know what he was doing, because since it was you and he didn’t really know how to act around you most of the time.
“I didn’t know you were the tea kind of guy, Halstead,” your voice startled him, so lost in thought he hadn’t heard you arrive. His heart probably didn’t skip a beat, not until he saw you in his clothes, even though they were a few sizes too big.
This isn’t the time Jay, stop it.
“Figured it out you wanted something hot.”
You nodded. “Thanks.” You sighed, running a hand through your now-dry hair. “Listen, Jay, I... I’m sorry to bother you...”
“Hey, no stop,” he interrupted you before letting you continue what you were saying, “If you think for even a second I’m going to let you go, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m not leaving you alone.”
You looked at him for a moment, your gaze unreadable, before lowering it to your feet.
“C’mon, let’s get comfortable on the couch.”
Jay sat down next to you, leaving a little space between you two, a space he only wanted to fill.
The silence was tense, almost suffocating; he didn’t know what to say. After all, he knew you, he knew it’d be useless to push you to tell him what had happened because that would only make you shut down even more.
But God, he was trembling, he just wanted to tear the son of a bitch who had done this to you to pieces.
You were still shaking, though not like when you’d arrived, and Jay hoped it was just the cold. He took the blanket he always had on the couch and draped it around your shoulders. “You’re shivering,” he almost whispered.
Your eyes were on his face, scared, curious, but you didn’t say a word. Jay’s heart was pounding, so fast that for a moment he feared you could hear it.
He passed the cup of tea between your hands. Your fingers barely touched, but this tiny contact made his throat tighten.
The room fell into an almost deafening silence again, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of the rain still hitting the windows.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. You brought the cup to your lips, taking a small sip.
“No.”
M
“Of course not,” he muttered, running his hands over his face in frustration. “Why would you ever…” He stopped.
“What?”
“Make things easy, you always have to complicate everything. You always have to put on this tough facade, pretend everything is fine, I don’t know why you do this… Seriously, you’re driving me crazy… Why can’t you just accept that someone wants to help you? Why do you think you have to deal with everything alone?”
“It’s not your job…”
“Of course it’s my job. For fucks sake we work together, you’re my partner, of course I want to help you, I care about you.”
You looked down at the cup, but Jay had noticed your shiny eyes, your trembling lip.
“Why did you come here?”
“I told you, I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Yes, you did, you could have gone to anyone else—Kim, Adam—but you came here, to me. We don’t get along most of the time. Why?”
“Jay… Enough…”
“Look at me,” he said, and you did. He tried to ignore the way seeing your tears again made him feel. He tried not to think about it, not to be distracted by the trembling of your lips, by the way you were trying to stay composed, to still feign strength when it was clear you had none left.
“Because I trust you,” you breathed out, in a whisper, “You… You’re the only person who won’t judge me, who won’t look at me like I’m a victim.”
The words hung in the air, as if they, too, were afraid of breaking. Jay stared at you, unable to say anything, incredulous that you could actually say it. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if simply breathing had become difficult.
“Really? Please say it again, I have to record it.”
“Never, you bastard.” You both chuckled. “You’re not going to let me live this down, aren’t you?”
“Oh never, princess.”
“Don’t call me princess.”
“Alright, alright. I won’t call you princess anymore, princess.”
“God, you’re unbearable. Forget what I said.”
Jay smiled, happy to have managed to ease the tension a little, because he knew you, he knew how much you hate being vulnerable, how you used sarcasm to avoid talking about your feelings.
But he was especially happy because he finally got to see you smile. Man, he hated seeing those teary eyes of yours, and in that precise moment, he vowed to do everything in his power to never see you cry again.
There was a moment of silence.
“That’s also why I’m here,” you whispered, your eyes now fixed on the cup.
“What do you mean?”
“Because you manage to make things a little bit better.”
Jay was taken aback; he never in his life would’ve expected to hear those words from you.
But then again, that was your relationship. You bickered. It wasn’t true to say you hated each other, because you didn’t, but at the end, you were always there for each other. Not explicitly—neither of you had ever said “I’m here”—but with your jokes and arguments, with an offered beer, even just with your presence, with silence.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that now,” you continued.
“I think I’m hallucinating.”
You giggled, playfully hitting him on the arm.
You took another long sip of tea, which was now cooling. You tucked the blanket around your body, then pulled your legs up to your chest before placing the cup on the coffee table.
“Before I started in Intelligence, I worked in the Major Crimes Unit in Washington. We were investigating a large drug ring, prostitution, and a series of related murders,” you began, your gaze lost in space. Jay listened intently, his breath held almost as if he feared that if you heard him, you’d stop talking. “There was a man in charge, Marcus Kane, and there was no way to frame him. We knew he was behind all those crimes, but there was no concrete evidence. Whoever had anything to do with him, they were terrified enough not to testify...”
“So we decided to go undercover. I volunteered. Catching Marcus Kane was the perfect opportunity to make myself known. I’d just become a detective, and I wanted to prove my worth.”
Jay smiled to himself. It was just like you.
“I went undercover for about a year, pretending to be a big shot in the prostitution ring and looking for new girls to buy. He was a shrewd, paranoid guy, suspicious even of his own shadow, so it wasn’t easy. But eventually, slowly, I managed to gain his trust.”
“He fell in love...”
You nodded. “And I took advantage of this opportunity. I never did anything with him; I always managed to slip away without arousing his suspicions, playing with his feelings. Long story short, I managed to gather enough evidence to frame him, to get the victims he raped to talk… But something went wrong, and to this day I still don’t know how he got the word that there was an undercover cop,” you sighed, huddling tighter. “We fought, he managed to stab me, but before he could finish the job, backup arrived and arrested him, but not before yelling at me that he’d get revenge.”
His heart broke for you, he couldn’t even imagine how you felt in that moment, fighting for your life, fearing you were about to die.
“What happened?” Jay whispered.
“A few days ago, I got a call from my lawyer. Kane made a deal, revealed the names of some big shots he dealt with, and got of jail…” you replied.
There was another moment of silence.
“I checked every single door and window, and everything was locked… I don’t know how he got in,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “We fought, he managed to disarm me, but believe it or not, he got the worst of it… I ran away, and here I am.”
“Oh yes, I absolutely believe you, Detective. I saw you angry,” Jay joked, trying to hide the turmoil he felt inside. He was there, he had left you at home and left. If he had insisted on staying, none of this would’ve happened.
“We caught him. Voight called me. One of your neighbors heard a gunshot and called 911. The patrol called him.”
You looked at him for a moment and let out a breath, though Jay noticed the news didn’t completely reassure you.
“He’ll find a way out this time too.”
“He attacked a cop. He won’t get away with it.”
You sighed. “I hope so, Jay.”
And there was that silence again, heavy, suffocating.
Jay’s body was tense, unable to relax. He’d never even seen that man’s face, but he hated him with every fiber of his being. Now your behavior became clear, the way you flinched, the way you constantly looked over your shoulder every time you were in the field, your recklessness during the trade.
He could only imagine the hell you went through these past days, the sleepless nights staring around, feeling vulnerable in the only place you were supposed to feel safe: your home.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, leaning back on the couch. Neither of you seemed to realize that in the meantime, Jay had inadvertently moved closer to you, but without actually touching you. He just wanted to implicitly tell you that he was there, that he was listening, that he would protect you.
“For what? It’s not your fault.”
“For not understanding. I mean, I knew something was wrong in the past few days, but all I did was insist on asking you if everything was okay, knowing you’d push me away. I’m your partner, I know you, I know who you are, and I didn’t do anything to help you.”
Jay studied you for a long moment, the way your shoulders trembled beneath the blanket, the way your eyes kept darting toward the floor as if you were afraid of what he might find if you met his gaze. Every instinct in him screamed to pull you closer, to erase every trace of fear from your face, but he couldn’t. Not when you’d made such a point of keeping walls between you two.
And yet, seeing you like this—raw, shaken, human—cracked something inside him.
“That son of a bitch will never touch you again, do you hear me? I don’t care what it takes, he’ll never hurt you again.”
You didn’t look up, and that killed him more than anything else. Because he could see the weight behind your silence, the exhaustion, the fear, the shame you didn’t deserve to feel. He knew it was something you hated, having to ask for help, depending on someone, feeling like a burden.
He hated seeing you like this, vulnerable, almost broken.
He just wanted to see you with that bright smile of yours, so beautiful it could light up the darkest room, he wanted to hear your terrible jokes, your way of teasing him.
“I know it’s hard for you, I know you’ve always been used to facing everything alone in your life, because every person you relied on has always disappointed you, and you’ve learned you can’t trust anyone. No one but yourself,” he spoke in a sweet, patient tone, “I know I’m the last person you’d want to tell you this. We’re not exactly best friends, but you’re not alone in this world. Whatever happens to you, happens to me… To the whole team.”
“I care about you, more than you can even imagine, and I know I’ve never told you this because that’s how our relationship is… But I’ll always be there for you whenever you want me to be. I know that stubborn little head of yours will stop you from doing that, but I’m here. I won’t leave you alone now, tomorrow, or ever, no matter how much you hate the idea.”
You finally looked up at him, and his heart broke as he saw those tears streaming down your face, that beautiful face now surrounded by that damned purple bruise.
“I hate you so much, Detective Halstead,” you sniffed, drying your tears. “Remember when you told me that if things got bad, a hug could make it all go away?”
He nodded.
“I really need one right now.”
He smiled and didn’t need to be told twice before pulling you into his chest for the second time that evening. He could count on one hand the number of times you’d hugged in the years you’d known each other, but each and every single one of them was forever imprinted in his memory.
Your arms were holding him with such force it left him speechless, as if he was your lifeline, the only thing that could save you in that moment.
“I thought I’d lose you today,” he whispered, so low he didn’t even know if you’d heard him. But from the way you held him, he knew you had. “Don’t ever do that to me again, please.”
“You really like me that much, Halstead?” you murmured, making him chuckle.
You have no idea, baby.
“That’s called being a partner, you should try it sometime.” He retorted, his arms wrapped around you as he stroked your hair.
“You won’t lose me. It would be hard to find a better partner than me.”
He laughed again, pulling you even closer. “I hate to admit it, but it’s true. That’s why I’m begging you to stay in one piece.”
“I’ll try,” you chuckled this time, and he breathed an internal sigh of relief as he felt you finally relax in his arms. “Thank you for everything.”
“Anytime. I’m always here.”
You lifted your head slightly so you could look at him, and he placed a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I don’t want to see you like this ever again,” he whispered. “Insult me, hit me, do whatever you want, but I don’t want to see you cry, see you suffer like this again.”
He saw you trying to hold back your smile, and his heart skipped another beat. “There it is, that’s that pretty smile that I like, that’s how I want to see you all the time. And if there’s anyone who stops you from doing so, promise me you’ll tell me, okay? So I’ll break his legs with my bare hands.”
You laughed, and his heart began to race this time. “Don’t you think that’s a little overboard?”
“Not at all.” He shook his head slightly. “You have no idea what I’ll do to that son of a bitch when I lay my hands on him.”
“It feels good.”
“What?”
“Feeling protected, feeling like there’s someone there to protect you, making you feel safe. It feels good.”
Those words weren’t supposed to affect him the way they did, they weren’t supposed to break his heart like that, but they did, and he hated it. Himself for feeling that way, the rest of the world for making you believe you weren’t worthy of those things.
“I know, and you won’t have to worry about that anymore, whether you like it or not.”
“I think I might like it.”
You remained silent for a moment, his heart still pounding, your breathing slowly becoming more regular. You stayed there, hugging each other on that couch as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if you were used to it, and somehow it felt natural, for some strange reason it was supposed to be this way.
His fingers continued to delicately caress your face, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it more for himself than for you, and with every passing second he hoped time would stop for a little longer.
“So…” it was you who broke the comfortable silence, your tone lighter. “That pretty smile that I like, huh? My God, you’re really into me, Jay.”
Jay rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Don’t let it get over your head, obviously I just said that to make you feel better.” He retorted, grateful you couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks, because what he’d said was as far from the truth as could be.
“Mmh, mmh,” you hummed in amusement, relieved. You tilted d your head so you could look at him. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
Jay felt something inside him twist, a sharp pull low in his chest that left him breathless. He didn’t even know how to describe it, what name to give that sensation.
You looked exhausted, yes, but there was also something else, trust, maybe, or the faintest flicker of safety. And God, it almost broke him.
He’d seen you angry, stubborn, reckless; he’d fought with you more times than he could count, but he’d never seen you like this.
So close. So open, so damn real.
And you were so beautiful it took his breath away.
His eyes kept roaming over every millimeter of her face, mentally taking thousands of photos so he could imprint them in his memory, because the truth was, he didn’t know if he’d ever have the chance to have you this close again.
His throat went dry, the words burning there with nowhere to go.
Jay swallowed hard.
Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do it.
But his gaze dropped to your lips for a second too long, and he knew he had to move, immediately, before he crossed a line he couldn’t take back.
“I…” he started, his voice rougher than he expected. He cleared his throat, stood up too fast. “I’m just gonna—uh—get you some ice. For… you know.” He gestured vaguely toward the side of your face, anything to justify the sudden space between you.
He didn’t wait for a reply.
He needed distance, oxygen, anything that wasn’t the scent of your skin, anything to non to see the look in your eyes that felt like it could undo him completely.
As he reached the kitchen, he braced his hands on the counter, eyes closed, chest tight.
Fuck.
Get it together, Halstead.
Because for a second back there, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to comfort you or just kiss you until the world stopped shaking, until neither of you would have any air left in your lungs.
Jay took longer than he needed. The ice was already in the towel but he couldn’t quite bring himself to go back yet.
For fucks sake he’d faced armed men, stared down killers, fought in wars, and somehow, walking back into that living room felt harder than any of it.
When he finally did, you were sitting in the same position, knees still drawn up, blanket still wrapped around you. Your eyes found him immediately, soft but searching, like you could tell exactly what was going on inside his head even if he was trying damn hard to hide it.
He cleared his throat, forcing a half-smile.
“Here you go,” he murmured, holding out the ice. “It’ll be good for the bruise.”
You took it, your fingers brushing his again, just a second, just enough to make his skin burn under your touch.
“Thank you,” you said quietly.
He nodded, trying to focus on the movement of your hand instead of the fact that his heart was still hammering in his chest.
“Keep it on for a while,” he muttered, sitting down again, this time a little further away than before.
Safe distance. Or at least that’s what he told himself.
For a while, you both pretended to watch the rain through the window. The air still felt thick, like the room itself remembered what had just almost happened. Every once in a while, he’d steal a glance, the curve of your jaw, of your nose, your lips, the faint rise and fall of your shoulders as you breathed, and every damn time, it felt like something in him shifted.
You broke the silence first.
“Are you okay?”
Jay blinked, thrown off. “Me?” He huffed out a laugh. “You’re the one who just went through hell, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”
You shrugged lightly. “I don’t know, it seems like something is bothering you.”
He couldn’t help it, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before his gaze flicked to yours, holding it for just a heartbeat too long before he looked away again.
“It’s…” he said finally, voice low. “I’m just glad you’re here. That’s all.”
And that was the truth. Raw, simple, terrifying in its honesty.
Because for all his control, all his training, nothing had prepared him for how much he could care about someone who drove him this crazy, for someone who could make him feel so protective, so alive, and so close to losing every bit of restraint he had left.
A/N: @outlawdaydream gave me this idea a long time ago and I finally got it written! Also special thanks to my bestie and beta queen @seatsbythepit And yes, hi, it's me!!!
HALSTEAD!SISTER MASTERLIST
“Sarah, you called me over to study, remember?” You tilted your head toward her, raising your eyebrows.
Sarah glanced up at you from where she was undoubtedly doomscrolling and grinned. “You’re studying.”
You smiled and shook your head.
“Besides, your brothers probably only agreed because I said we’re studying,” Sarah said. You could hear the playful note in your friend’s voice, and you shook your head again.
“As you pointed out, I am studying.” You retorted, turning your eyes back to the book in front of you.
Sarah laughed. “Honestly, you’re in college. I don’t get why your brothers are so protective. I’m glad I don’t have older brothers.”
You didn’t say anything and just smiled to yourself.
It wasn’t the first time someone had said something like this to you. Sometimes, they were serious, and other times, they were half joking, like Sarah was right now.
It didn’t really matter though, because no one would be able to convince you that having two older brothers wasn’t the greatest thing in the world.
Sure, they were protective, and sometimes overprotective, in the case of your oldest brother, but you knew that no matter what happened, even if the whole world turned upside down, the two of them would always have your back.
Sarah’s room fell back into silence once more as she continued scrolling on her phone while you scribbled down notes on the papers you were poring over.
You’d just flipped a page when the faint sound of voices seemed to drift into Sarah’s rooms.
The both of you looked up at the same time, exchanging a look.
“Those aren’t happy voices,” You commented, sitting up.
Sarah frowned, like she was concentrating. The voices were clearer now, almost as if they were moving further into the house.
“It’s my sister,” Sarah said, sitting up slightly.
The voices continued carrying into the room.
“I think that’s her ex. This is not good.” Sarah said, moving toward the door.
You didn’t need Sarah to explain any further. You hadn’t seen this guy’s face yet, but this whole situation gave you a bad hit. It felt like there was a huge knot in your stomach, as if you knew something would pop off at any minute.
You had barely finished that thought when there was a loud crash, like something had been thrown across the room. You frowned as both you and Sarah quietly climbed up and peered out the door.
You shook your head. “I don’t like this.”
Sarah made a face at you. “What are we supposed to do?”
Sarah’s parents were out of town for the weekend, which was why Sarah had invited you over in the first place.
'It's not like we can call the police, right? If they're just arguing."
You were already dialing.
He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, you need me to come get you?"
"Jay.”
He picked up on your voice immediately.
"Y/N? What's wrong?"
You could already hear him getting up.
"Jay, some guy is here arguing with Sarah's sister. Sarah says her sister used to date this guy. It kinda feels like things are going to pop off at any moment.”
You could hear Jay's movements seem to quicken, and you could almost picture the way he was moving through the district.
"Does he have a weapon?" Jay asked, his voice obviously strained.
You shook your head even though Jay couldn't see you. "I don't know. They're downstairs, we can't see them from here.” You paused, peering out slightly. "But I don't have a good feeling about this. Can you come?"
"I'm on my way. Stay put. And Y/N?”
"Yeah?"
Jay took a deep breath.
"No matter what you hear, don't come out of the room. Both of you. Not until it's me. You hear me?"
"Yeah, okay," You agreed, knowing that when it came to this, there was no way your brother was taking no for an answer anyway.
You hung up the phone and gave Sarah an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. My brother’s on his way."
Sarah frowned like she was waiting for more context, but you didn't say anything more.
You weren't in the habit of oversharing about your brothers. It wasn't a huge secret or anything, but you didn't volunteer information. After all, usually once word got around that you had a brother who was a detective and a brother who was a doctor, it only led to more questions or people asking for favours.
You kept your books away, then glanced at Sarah.
Sarah sighed before she started telling you about Samantha's ex - how he'd been sweet, until he wasn't. It was all the classic signs of controlling behaviour bordering on emotional manipulation that your brothers had drilled into you early on.
You were about to say something when you paused. "You smell that?'
Sarah looked up, frowning, before she wrinkled her nose.
The both of you headed toward the door, but you had already noticed the bright orange light filtering in, even before you heard Sarah's sharp inhale of breath.
“Call 911.” You told her.
As Sarah fumbled with her phone, you peered out of the room, against your better judgment.
Smoke was thickening in the halls, and the fire had already danced its way up the staircase railings.
Even with the door now closed, it felt like the smoke was still somehow finding its way into your lungs. You headed straight for your bag, emptying out its contents almost in a frenzy, looking for your inhaler. You hadn't had an asthma attack in months, you'd been managing very well, but smoke from a fire was definitely not your friend. You could almost feel your lungs closing up.
“Sarah… low…" You choked out, pulling Sarah to the ground with you.
“Where’s your inhaler?” Sarah asked, but there wasn’t enough air in your lungs for you to answer her.
You could only barely make out the sirens that seemed to be making their way through the fog of smoke.
And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, a familiar voice.
“Fire Department, call out!”
You barely had enough energy to nudge Sarah, who raised her voice to call for their attention.
The door burst open before you saw the familiar green eyes of the one other person you trusted as much as your brothers and heard the surprise in his voice, “Y/N?”
“Kelly… I can’t…”
Kelly just nodded. “I got you, kiddo. Hang on.”
As Kelly lifted you into his arms, you saw another firefighter reach out for Sarah before Kelly moved off, and within a minute, the fresh air hit you.
Kelly gently laid you down onto the stretcher that seemed to be ready and waiting. “Brett, she has asthma.”
Sylvie nodded, and before you knew it, oxygen was once again flowing into your lungs as an oxygen mask was fitted gently on you.
“All clear, Chief!” You heard Kelly’s radio crackle as he pulled off his mask and looked at you.
“You alright?” Kelly turned toward you now.
You nodded, unable to speak just yet, but Kelly smiled and squeezed your hand before he looked up and nodded.
The next moment, Jay was right next to you. “Hey, hey! You okay? Are you hurt?”
You blinked back up into Jay’s eyes and nodded, feeling stupid tears pool in your eyes for no apparent reason.
Jay smiled as you growled at yourself, as if trying to scare your own tears back.
“Thanks, Kelly,” Jay said.
Kelly nodded, patting Jay on the arm before he reached out to pat your head gently. “When I said I hadn’t seen you in a while, I meant drop by the firehouse. Not get stuck in a fire.”
You made a face at him, and Kelly chuckled.
“I’ll drop by to see you later, alright?”
You nodded and with a final ruffle of your hair, Kelly jogged back toward the rest of his team.
Jay glanced up and nodded at Sylvie. “Alright, we’re going to Med.”
You gave him a look, and Jay returned it. “We are not taking any chances.”
As expected, it was a big fuss when you were wheeled into Med.
Naturally, Will was told to stay outside while Connor worked on you, and then for the rest of the next day, Will couldn’t, or wouldn’t, leave you alone.
“I’m fine.” You stressed.
Will narrowed his eyes at you. “Do you know how dangerous smoke inhalation is for someone like you who has asthma?”
You grunted without saying anything because you knew he was right.
“Will, have you seen my friend? Sarah? And her sister? Are they okay?” You changed the topic since you knew you weren’t going anywhere today.
Before you could finish your sentence, the door opened and Sarah almost dashed into the room. You spotted Jay following up behind her before Sarah practically leaped into your arms.
“You’re crushing me, girl!” You sputtered as both your brothers wandered off to a corner of the room, talking to each other under their breath.
You were about to call out to them to ask them to spit it out when Sarah suddenly leaned in closer again and hissed, “You didn’t tell your brothers were so…”
“What?” You asked, frowning.
“Hot.”
You scrunched up your face. “Ew, Sarah.”
“A policeman and a doctor?” Sarah said, stealing a glance at them.
“Excuse me. Detective.” You said, unable to keep the tone of pride out of your voice.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Shut up. You suck.”
You laughed, then felt a spike of annoyance that your brothers were still whispering in the corner.
“Did you catch him?”
Jay looked up as you raised your voice.
He glanced at Sarah and then shook his head. “Patrol’s doing a sweep of the entire neighborhood. Mouse is all up in his electronic business. We’ll get him.”
Jay paused again, then moved closer. “What more can you tell me?”
“You first.” You glared at him. “You promised.”
It was a promise from a long time ago, but you never forgot it. In fact, your brothers hadn’t either. It was like yesterday, your two older brothers towering above you, your small pinky wrapped around theirs, sealing the pact between the three of you - no secrets. Even back then, you’d impressed on them that the worst betrayal was both of them keeping a secret from their only sister.
Jay glanced at Will, who nodded.
“Kelly called. Looks like this guy brought kerosene to the house. We can’t determine exactly how the fire was set yet, but it’s enough for me to haul his ass in.” Jay said, unable to keep his tone calm. Even Sarah could tell he was pissed, and she looked at you nervously.
“Listen. Samantha… She… she didn’t know we were home. I didn’t tell her. And she has nothing to do with…”
Jay smiled kindly at her. “Don’t worry. She’s talking to someone from my team now. He was an uninvited guest who threatened her. She’s not in trouble. Only he is.”
Will nodded. “I checked your sister out myself. She wasn’t in the house long. She got out before you guys did, so she didn’t have much smoke inhalation. She’s fine.”
You shot Sarah a smile just as there was a knock on the door, and Samantha peeped in.
“Hey.” You could hear the familiar tone of slight guilt from Samantha.
You turned to your brothers. “Now, the two of you. Go get some coffee or something and stop hovering around me. I’m fine.”
Will didn’t look convinced, but Jay caught the look on your face.
“Alright, let’s get out of her hair for a second,” Jay said, pushing Will out the door even as Will called back to you to let you know to call a nurse if you needed anything.
You’d only met Sarah’s sister once, but Sarah talked about her at school so much you felt like you knew her well.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” Samantha said quietly.
“Samantha, it’s not your fault.” You reassured her. “My brother said you talked to the police. Don’t worry, they’ll figure it out. Everything’s going to be fine.”
You were saved from more talking when the door slid open again.
“Hey, feeling better?”
You couldn’t help the grin that slid onto your face as you saw Kelly walk in.
You introduced Kelly to the sisters briefly, ignoring Sarah’s wiggling eyebrows with a roll of your eyes.
“Where are your brothers?” Kelly asked.
“Hey! Are you here to see me, or them?” You asked with a tone of mock hurt.
Kelly chuckled. “You, and since I’m here, I need to talk to Jay.”
You smiled. “I kicked them out for being annoying.”
Kelly was just about to say something else when the door slammed open again.
You heard the catch in Samantha’s breath as she pulled Sarah behind her.
The man standing in the doorway was unfamiliar to you, but you didn’t need to hear his voice to know who he was. You reached for Kelly and gently squeezed, hoping he understood what you were trying to tell him.
Kelly glanced at you and nodded reassuringly, angling his body in a protective stance.
“Who is this?” The man spoke, his voice only confirming your suspicions.
Samantha’s ex-boyfriend.
The new arrival looked from Kelly to Samantha before he raised his voice again. “Is it him? Is he the reason you refuse to work things out with me?” Then he twitched, and you saw it at the same time as Kelly - a gun.
“Hey, I’m gonna need you to calm down,” Kelly spoke now, taking half a step forward, before motioning toward you. “I’m her…”
“Brother.” You finished his sentence for Kelly, turning to look at the guy standing in the doorway in your room, your eyes flicking toward his gun. “My brother’s just worried, alright?”
The guy’s eyes flicked back toward Samantha.
“Damien, stop this,” Samantha said now, making the effort to steel her voice.
Damien raised his gun now, and you could see Kelly’s shoulders stiffen. At the same time, the machine next to you started beeping, and you felt your chest tighten.
Kelly swivelled his head to glance at you. “Y/N?”
Kelly turned back to Damien. “That’s the sign of an asthma attack, alright? This room is going to be flooded with nurses and doctors soon. Turn around and leave.”
Damien looked like he was weighing his options, his head swinging back and forth.
You caught just a glimpse of Jay over Damien’s shoulder, and in the second that Damien lowered his gun in hesitation, Kelly shot Jay a look. Jay moved forward, pressing his gun to the back of Damien’s head.
"You so much as twitch that finger, I'll blow your brains out,” Jay said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Put it down. Now."
Kelly moved forward to kick the gun away from Damien as Will hurried in toward you.
"Okay, breathe." Will's voice was soft, yet firm and very reassuring as he fiddled with the oxygen.
Between the smoke inhalation and having a gunman in your hospital room, it was no wonder your asthma had started up again.
You felt more oxygen fill your lungs again, and your breathing steadied.
"Better?"
You nodded.
Will studied you for a while more before he said, “We'll do one more round of medication, and if that stabilizes, we'll probably be able to wean you off.”
He paused, then added, "So, patience."
You raised an eyebrow. "I'm a Halstead too, you know. Patience doesn't run in our blood."
That earned you chuckles across the room.
Jay had returned from handing Damien off, just in time to catch your last statement.
You shot him a smile, just to put him a little more at ease.
You almost forgot Samantha and Sarah were still there, until Sarah spoke again.
"I thought you only had two brothers?"
Jay couldn't help himself, "Yeah, when did I have a second brother?'
You glanced at Kelly, who winked.
“Didn't you know? Kelly's an honorary Halstead. I can trust him with my life. "
Jay smiled, and Kelly winked at you.
"Don't you ever doubt it, Y/N.”
As you smiled at the three of them, Sarah leaned in and whispered," I take back what I said about older brothers."
You glanced at her in surprise, and she giggled. "A doctor, detective, and a firefighter? God, you're living the dream."
You rolled your eyes, but you didn't refute it.
After all, Sarah was right.
You wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
Summary: When Chicago is in a heat wave, Y/n feels unwell while pregnant, worrying Jay
It was definitely the hottest day of the year. Chicago was going through a heat wave and Y/n had never felt more miserable. It also didn't help that she was seven months pregnant with her husband's baby, Jay Halstead. She could feel the beads of sweat falling from her forehead and her face heating up so much that she must have looked like a walking tomato.
Jay warned her to stay at home and protect herself from the heat, but when the air conditioning broke, Y/n decided to go out to buy a fan. But she didn't know it would be so difficult to walk and even breathe on this hellish day. It seemed like with every breath she took, the air burned her lungs. She walked slowly, one hand on her stomach protectively, trying to at least get to the store that was a few blocks away.
Y/n knew Jay would be so upset if he knew she left the house in this weather. Since she became pregnant, the man has become even more protective than before. However, she knew he was having a busy day and couldn't leave work just because Y/n was hot — although he would do that if Y/n called him and asked to buy a fan.
But everything got worse when Y/n's vision became blurry and a feeling of nausea appeared. Jay's wife leaned against the wall next to her, trying to get some shade to compose herself. She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to breathe slowly to calm her heart that was beating rapidly against her chest.
"Miss! Miss, are you okay?" a man appeared in front of her, with a worried look. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"
"No, it's okay." she managed to whisper. "Could you help me get to Fire Station 51? It's just a two-minute walk." the man, already advanced in age, seemed friendly enough for Y/n to trust him. And the truth was that she had no other option, as it seemed like her legs were going to give out at any moment.
"Sure thing, ma'am. Here, lean on my arm." he agreed with a gentle smile, offering her his arm to help her walk. "In this heat, no one should be walking around. It could be dangerous, especially in your condition."
"I know." Y/n sighed, knowing that beyond this lecture, she was going to hear worse from Jay when he found out. "But I wanted to buy a fan. It wasn't even a five-minute walk."
The man patted her hand in understanding. "I don't judge you, dear. My wife has already had three children, and in all of them, she was very stubborn. I understand that you don't want to be dependent on us, poor husbands, but we just want you to be well."
The woman didn't respond, now feeling even more guilty for not calling Jay to ask for this favor. She didn't want to bother him, but the plan didn't go as expected. The rest of the short walk was done in silence, Y/n's cheeks becoming more flushed, and having difficulty breathing in the hot air.
When they finally saw the fire station, Jay's wife couldn't be more relieved. Gabby and Brett, who were getting out of the ambulance, having just arrived from a call, noticed Y/n's tired form and immediately took hurried steps towards her, helping to carry her and him into the shade.
"Y/n? What happened? Are you feeling okay?" Gabby asked worriedly, helping her into the back of the ambulance. Y/n sat down, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back, closing her eyes as she started to feel dizzy.
"I'll call Jay." she managed to hear Brett say, but she was more focused on not throwing up than responding to the paramedics.
Thankfully, the man who helped her took charge of explaining what had happened. Y/n had the strength to open her eyes and thank him deeply for his help, asking if she could do anything to repay him, but he just shook his head and smiled. Then he left, as Y/n was now with people who could help her medically.
"What are your symptoms, Y/n?"
"I don't feel well, Gabby." her voice shook, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm sick, dizzy, and a headache is forming."
After leaving the phone call, Brett began taking her vitals, while Gabby applied a cold compress to her forehead. "You're most likely dehydrated, we have to go to the hospital to put you on an IV and check the baby."
"But he's fine, right?" Y/n sobbed scared, clutching her belly as she looked at her friends with a frown.
"Yes, he seems fine. But just to be sure." Gabby comforted, starting to help Y/n lay down on the stretcher.
"What did Jay say?"
"Well, he—" the blonde paramedic started to say, but was interrupted by the sirens of a police car, getting closer and closer. "I guess that's your answer."
"How did he get here so fast?" Y/n thought out loud as he watched the police officer get out of the still moving car. He immediately looked around for his wife. When he saw them, he quickly broke into a run, his eyes wide in panic. Hailey got out of the driver's seat, right behind Jay.
"I'm really sorry."
"What, baby? You don't have to apologize." Jay knelt down next to Y/n, gently cupping her face with his hands so he could assess her condition. Unconsciously, his hand slid down to her round belly, finally managing to take a deep breath when he felt a light kick against his touch. "I shouldn't have left you alone in this weather. You're okay, baby."
When Brett called him to explain the situation, he felt a sense of fear like he had never felt before. Not even when he had been shot at, kidnapped or beaten. The most important people in his life being in danger was his worst nightmare.
Luckily, they were in the neighborhood and managed to get to the fire station in record time thanks to Hailey's driving. Over time, Y/n and the blonde had become very close, often ganging up together against Jay. Not that he minded, since hearing his wife's giggles and knowing she was more relaxed when Jay was working as she trusted his partner to protect him.
"We need to get them to the hospital. Y/n is showing signs of dehydration and the baby needs to be checked." Jay's head turned unusually quickly to Gabby in concern. She hurried to add, "They both seem to be fine, but I want to make sure."
"I'll go back to the police station and let Voight know you won't be working anymore this week." Hailey offered. "I hope you're okay, Y/n. I'll stop at the hospital to check on you."
"Thank you, Hails." Y/n smiled weakly.
"Let's go." The man nodded, kissing Y/n's forehead comfortingly. He climbed into the back of the ambulance with her and held her hand the whole way while Gabby got into the driver's seat and Brett checked some vital signs.
The ride was relatively calm, but Y/n was getting paler and sicker by the minute. Jay mumbled words in an attempt to calm her down, but inside, he felt like he couldn't breathe. They should have called two ambulances because he was close to passing out.
Finally, they arrived at the hospital where Maggie and Will were waiting for them at the entrance. In no time, she was already settled in and several doctors were checking everything they could. Jay stayed by her side the whole time, answering some questions from the doctors when necessary.
The fluorescent lights of the hospital were harsh against Y/n’s already sensitive eyes as she waited for someone to tell her what was going on. Jay never let go of her hand, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb softly brushing against her knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort her. Her heart was pounding, but the cool sheets of the hospital bed and his touch gave her some relief.
Will Halstead, dressed in his white coat and looking every bit the composed doctor he was, entered the room, clipboard in hand. His face softened the moment he saw Y/n and Jay.
"Hey," Will greeted, his tone warm yet professional. "How are we doing here?"
"Not great, Will," Y/n admitted, her voice weak as she tried to give him a small smile. "I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck."
Jay immediately turned to his brother. "What’s going on? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" His words came out in a rush, and it was clear he was doing everything he could to keep his composure.
Will raised a hand to calm his younger brother. "Take a breath, Jay," he said, flipping through the chart. "We ran some tests and monitored Y/n’s vitals. She’s severely dehydrated, which is why she felt dizzy and nauseous. Her blood pressure dropped, but thankfully, the baby is doing great. The ultrasound shows a strong heartbeat."
Y/n let out a shaky breath of relief, her free hand instinctively moving to her belly. Jay visibly relaxed beside her, the tension in his shoulders easing.
"So, she’s okay? The baby’s okay?" Jay asked again, needing to hear it one more time to truly believe it.
"Yes," Will assured them with a kind smile. "We’re giving her IV fluids to rehydrate her, and she should start feeling better soon. I do want her to stay overnight for observation, just to be safe, but I’m confident she and the baby will be fine."
"Thank you, Will," Y/n said, her voice cracking slightly as tears of relief welled in her eyes.
Will reached out to pat her head. "No need to thank me, Y/n. Just promise me you’ll stay out of this heat, okay?"
She nodded, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude. "I’ll try," she murmured, glancing at Jay.
Jay turned to Will. "Thanks, man."
"Anything for my sister-and-law and nephew." He winked at her before stepping back. "I’ll check on you in a bit, but for now, just rest."
As Will left, the room fell quiet, except for the soft beep of the monitors and the rhythmic drip of the IV. Jay pulled a chair close to the bed, sinking into it as he brought Y/n’s hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her fingers.
"You scared me today," he said softly, his eyes glistening as they locked onto hers. "Don’t ever do that again, Y/n. Please."
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just... I didn’t want to bother you at work."
Jay let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "Bother me? Y/n, you and this baby are the most important things in my life. I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if you needed me."
Her lips trembled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. It was just a fan."
He leaned forward, cupping her face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "Listen to me," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Nothing is ‘just’ when it comes to you or our family. You’re my world. Promise me, no more trying to do everything on your own. I’m here for you. Always. Ask me to buy you a fan, food, a house, I don't care, I'll do it in a heartbeat."
She nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I promise," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Jay leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his against hers. For a moment, they stayed like that, their breaths mingling as the world outside the hospital room faded away.
"I love you," she said softly, her hand finding its way to his cheek.
"I love you more," he replied, his voice low and full of sincerity. He placed a hand on her belly, feeling the soft flutter of movement beneath his palm. "And I love you, little one. But you’ve gotta cut your mom some slack, okay? No more giving her a hard time."
Y/n laughed weakly, the sound light and sweet. "Hear that?" she said, looking down at her bump. "You are already giving Daddy white hairs."
As the IV continued to drip and the monitors beeped steadily, the weight of the day began to lift. They were together and okay. That was all that they needed.
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TRUST | JAY HALSTEAD X READER
summary: He will do anything for you. Even if it means risking the badge (established relationship)
warnings: violence/violent language, mention of trafficking and sexual assault, brief description of blood
⊰═══════════════════⊱
Cold, hard criminals were what she was used to. People who had been hardened by the harsh realities of underground organisations, hierarchical systems, and lies. Where bonds were based on loyalty, and where loyalty was fear. The man on the other side of that door was different.
"y/l/n," Hank had called, sauntering out of his office. He signalled to the interrogation rooms, "You and me. C'mon"
She'd be a fool to deny the pleasure of breaking this guy. Before she had left the room, she made sure to give the picture they had stuck on the whiteboard a long stare as if seeing it again was an unlikely reality. Dwight Whitman read Jay's sprawled handwriting. Dwight's frozen eyes stared back at her. He'd be the shell of the person he was when she came out of that room.
While she was locking her gun away in the safe, a lingering figure had caught the corner of her eye. Jay's hands were tucked deeply into his pockets, a sign of his nervousness.
"Pictures of the victims," He muttered, sliding a familiar yellow file into her hands. Jay was now leaning against the wall beside her, eyes shooting past his shoulder to make sure no one had caught sight of his departure.
"Do we have anything else?" She frowned. Even for a simple case, the contents felt too light in her hands. There wasn't much she could do with a feather. This man was experienced, having been in the trade so long that he could point out a decite if a hair was out of place.
Jay pressed his lips into a line and shook his head.
She didn't reply, simply scanning the front of the file. The routine took hold of her, and she slipped the gun from its holster, carefully placing it in the locker. The metal lock closed with a certain clang. The missing weight on her belt was immediately noticeable. 'When had safety become violence?' She questioned, thumbing her belt loop.
A quiet 'hey' broke her train of thought. He was already looking at her by the time she met his eyes.
"Don't stress it too much," he said softly, "This is what you do, and no one else can do it better than you"
Something between a scoff and a laugh escaped her lips, "Your faith in me is truly...inspiring."
"You got me to tell you about my past. You can make anyone talk"
There was a certain warmth that she felt with Jay. He was grinning now, lips curved deeply though soft around the edges. A wrinkle remained in the bunch of his brows, as if he didn't know what relaxing was. She felt the urge to smooth it over with her finger. Maybe that's why she cradled a certain safety with him. He was broken, but so was she.
Hank greeted her with a curt nod at the dark door. "We move carefully," He says with a certain warning in his voice.
Dwight sat leaning against the concrete walls with an undeniable comfort. The suit he was wearing had remained intact, and his gleaming, scourned smile even more so. Not a hair was out of place. And yet, it was his name attached to all these girls. It was his face that had plastered itself across their phones, and it was he who was in handcuffs, suspected of smuggling them to their death.
"Detectives," he greeted.
Voight took a seat beside him as she reached to undo his cuffs. First step in rapport-building: the more comfortable they were, the more they'd run their mouth.
And like that, everything moved as planned. Y/n knew every muscle in her body remained tense as she talked to the man in front of her. She could feel Jay's eyes on the back of her head as they talked, the only thing that kept her face expressionless.
Jay's arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the exchange play out. There was a strange expression on Dwight's face that left a sour taste in Jay's mouth. Something's wrong, he kept telling himself, only to be reminded of who was in the room.
His heart softened a bit when his gaze flicked to her. Trusting her was the only thing stopping him from bursting through the door. Those were the words she had uttered to him once after a long night. Their legs thrown over each other on the couch, take out boxes lying on the coffee table as a bad show played on the TV.
"Did I go too far?" She had asked, pulling at a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt.
"Do you think you went too far?" He repeated softly.
Her face was furrowed, clouded with doubt and uncertainty. "That's why I asked"
"And I trust your decision. I trust you. So, do you think you went too far?"
"No." "Good"
The moment mixed with reality so easily that Jay almost forgot where he was. A long scrape brought him back to reality. Hank was standing beside Whitman, one hand leaning against the table. Whitman was caged in, yet his smirk remained.
Her gaze sharpened. She willed him to slip up in the long tales he crafted, hoped he'd mention a name, mention a location. Her efforts fell flat.
Hank's voice too started to carry an air of impatience, "Look, Dwight," he started, talking as though he were explaining terms to a teenager, "We have CCTV footage of you walking to the warehouse. Tell me why, five weeks later, we find them". He set the photo of the three girls down in front of the man. Their bodies were twisted, mangled to the point their bones stuck out like oddly shaped rocks. Though Dwight didn't flinch.
"Did you do that?" She asked. It was the first time she had talked in a while. He turned to look at her.
There were no signs of disdain or discomfort on his face. Just an eerie calmness she could not explain. "Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Detective. We see men like Ted Bundy and the Golden State Killer, and how they go on a spree, killing all these innocent young women. I have a loving wife. Two young, impressionable daughters. What kind of example would I be setting if I had killed those women? What kind of man would I be if I dumped their bodies like that? Left the bodies in an old warehouse and visited them like they were some trophies?"
You'd be exactly where I need you, was all she could think of.
When there is an impermeable man, you take whatever opportunity you have. Through the monotone in his words, she found a spot untainted by insanity.
"Your daughters...Eve and Rowan, was it?" she asked. There was a quiet danger behind her words. A silent threat. Take the bait, you bastard.
Both of them watched--from both in front and behind the mirror--as his shoulders tensed. His face hardened, the warmth and sympathy in his eyes quickly turning to unbeatable rage.
"What about them?" he hissed, animosity beginning to build in his voice.
"Where are they right now?" Her voice was flat, betraying none of the triumph that was running through her veins.
"Don't bring them into this"
The room was silent, air filling with a deadly sense of dread. Whoever was to speak first would be igniting a flame, one that would take up the whole room, to leave only one survivor.
Just as he had opened his mouth to speak once more, the door to the interrogation room opened. Burgess, looking as sorry as ever, looked towards Voight.
"Sarge, we need you for a second..."
Voight passed a silent look towards the glass, then to her. She lowered her eyes for a moment. A wordless nod.
As soon as they were alone, Dwight began talking, carefully chipping away at the rusty nail at the edge of the table. "You understand people, Detective. You wouldn't be here if you didn't," he stated quietly. "So you must know how easy it is to see what foolish things they desire. How easily they fall into your grasp. How you can make them do so much in exchange for so little..."
"You killed those girls, Whitman" she frowned.
"You're no saint yourself, are you? Oh, the famous Detective y/n y/l/n. Knowingly brutal. Corrupted beyond belief, and yet justice always follows your name"
He was watching her carefully now, waiting for a reaction, watching her eyes with an intensity that she could only ever see from a man like him.
"This isn't about me, Whitman"
Dwight stood like a shadow moving through darkness. She mirrored him, walking around to the other side of the table.
"Oh but it is," he smiled. "You talk about me killing these girls, mutilating their bodies like you haven't taken lives of your own. So where do we draw the line between what is right and what is accepted?"
Her hand rested firmly on the door knob.
"We're done here" she hissed, turning to leave.
Before she door could even open, the sound of scraping cut through the air and a firm force pressed into her back. Her hand twisted, and she barely smothered the moan of pain that left her lips. She fell against the wall, stumbling to the side, her hand clutched to her chest.
She reached for her gun. Nothing.
Then, came the sound of death: The clear click of the door being pushed shut.
Jay's voice echoed through the glass, strained and shaky as he yelled for her.
Before she could think, breath caressed the hairs on the back of her neck. She rose quickly, hands moving with as much strength as she could muster. Though, every punch failed to land, quickly deflected by Whitman's trained hands.
Her trivial efforts were in vain, having now ended up pinned on the floor. Danger flashed before her eyes when she caught sight of the rusty nail on Whitman's hand. He struck like a riled up python. Ruthless. Unforgiving. Crazed.
The team's efforts to gain access to the room echoed, seemingly far away as if her head were under water.
Her arms burned. C'mon, Jay...
On the other side of the mirror, Jay had watched it all unfold in slow motion. He saw Whitman get hold of the screw. He watched as the fire burning behind his eyes grew. He watched as he lunged for her as she turned to leave.
Her. His woman. His life. His will to live. Atwater was at the door, throwing his shoulder against it. It wouldn't budge. Every thump signified how close she was to danger.
Jay's heart was running at the walls of his chest over and over again. Blood rushed to his mind. People were rushing into the hallway but no one had made it into the world yet.
"y/n!" He yelled once more, beating a fist against the glass.
Whitman's nail had barely missed her face, grazing her ear instead. Blood trickled into her ear.
"Someone do something, dammit!" Jay ran to the door, peering over at the team. The door wasn't moving. The bastard had enough effort in him to lodge the table against it somehow.
Just as he was about to join them, Jay glanced back at the sight of her in the ground. The window glittered mockingly. A chair caught his eye. There was no going back now.
He picked up the stool, smashing a leg into the glass. It shattered without much effort.
Only now did y/n's raw screams hit his ears. He jumped through, ignoring the shooting pain up his palms as he did so, finally ripping Whitman off her.
Jay's fist met the guy's jaw. Once. Twice. Blood splattered, though he still struggled. After a moment, someone pulled him away. The breath heaved off his chest in heavy waves. Rusek and Atwater had him against the wall, the nail rolling on the floor limply.
The door was open. Voight glanced at him, a hard look on his face, then past him at the ground.
"y/n..." Jay finally breathed.
The sight of her was enough to bring him to his knees. She had pushed herself up to the corner of the room, holding her bleeding ear as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Get that bastard out of here, were the first words she muttered to him with a shaky breath.
Her eyes looked at the chaos around his figure. The broken table that had been pushed aside. The glass coated the floor. The worried eyes that were looking at her. From all those pairs, she met Jay's. The same eyes that had looked at her that fateful night. The ones that carried so much trust and faith. They had not changed. They were her constant.
His rough hands cupped her cheek as gently as he knew how, brushing back the tangles of hair that had fallen over her face. She was breathing hard, stuck between staring at death and looking at him.
"You're alright," He breathed softly, eyes running over every part of her face. He sounded as though he were speaking more to himself.
Despite the aching that was beginning to grow in her ear, she nodded. His arms welcomed her warmly, fitting around her as if they had been a part of her this entire time.
Her eyes fell closed. A few stray tears landed on his shirt. And though the world moved at a pace she couldn't comprehend, she knew she would be alright.
Reader has a rude awakening after a night out with her brothers. She calls Jay in a panic.
---
“Another round?” Jay asked.
“Actually, I think I’m heading out. I’m beat and Kelly wanted to get breakfast after shift tomorrow.” You stood from the table you’d been sharing with your brothers for the last several hours.
“Lame. But, fine.” Jay stood and pulled you into a hug. “You good to drive?”
You laughed. “I haven’t had a drink in over two hours, Detective. I think your observational skills might need a little work.”
He wrapped his arm around your neck in a headlock. “Smart ass. Being too tired to drive is also a thing.”
“Yes, I’m fine to drive.” You started poking him repeatedly in the ribs until he finally released you. “Besides, it’s only like a twelve minute drive.”
Will got up and walked around the table to give you a hug also. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you guys, too. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“Probably,” Will answered.
“Text us when you get home,” Jay hollered after you before you could push open the heavy door of Molly’s.
You threw a thumbs up over your head as you exited.
As you parked in front of your apartment building, you reminded yourself to text them once you were inside. But as soon as you closed your door, auto-pilot took over. You dumped your keys and purse on the front table like always, then tossed your phone on your bed before heading to the bathroom. Getting ready for bed, you quickly washed your face and brushed your teeth and then threw your clothes on the floor. After putting on a comfy shirt and shorts you climbed into bed.
“Oops.” Unlocking your phone revealed two missed calls from Will and three from Jay as well as a text.
Jay: If you don’t call me back in 5 minutes I’m coming over. You chuckled as you read the message. It was from three minutes ago. You clicked the FaceTime icon for Jay.
“About time!” He answered.
“Sorry. In my head I totally texted you when I got home… but forgot to actually do it, apparently.”
He turned the phone around so you could see Will and you waved. “Glad you made it home.”
“Yup.” You waved your phone around so they could see your room. “Now I’m going to sleep. G’night.”
“Sleep tight!”
A loud bang startled you from your sleep. At first you thought it had been a nightmare, until you heard more noises. Grabbing your phone, you scurried off the bed and into the closet. You climbed in between a mountain of dirty laundry and the wall trying to make yourself as small as possible.
Opening your contacts list, you selected Jay and waited as it rang.
“Hey, you're supposed to be sleeping,” he teased as he answered the phone. It took you a moment to collect your thoughts, long enough to prompt Jay to speak again. “Hello? Did you sleep dial me?”
“S-someone is in my apartment,” you whispered, finally finding your voice.
“What?! Are you sure? Where are you? Can you get outside?” Jay peppered you with questions.
“I hear footsteps.” You took a deep breath, trying not to panic.
“Where are you?” He asked again.
“Uh, hiding in my closet.” You whispered, afraid the intruder might hear you.
“I’m coming. Just stay on the phone with me and try to be quiet.” You could hear his truck start and the tires peel out.
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you.
“Five minutes,” he told you. Then you heard him talking on his radio. “5021 George, I have an intruder at 1242 Ashland, I’m six minutes out, I need units there now.”
You heard the radio crackle before Adam spoke. “5021 Ida, I’m two minutes out from that intruder call.”
“Hear that, Y/N? Adam is almost there, okay. I’ll be right behind him.”
You heard the footsteps approaching and then enter your room. Clapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you held your breath and prayed to stay unnoticed.
Seconds later the closet door was yanked open and a flashlight beam illuminated the space. Next thing you knew you were being yanked out of the closet by your hair as you screamed. You vaguely heard Jay shouting your name from your phone as it clattered to the floor.
You kicked out, managing to connect with his knee and make him stumble.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” he roared as he lunged for you. You threw kicks and punches as best you could trying to get away from him. Eventually, you fell and he landed a hard kick to your side, knocking the air from your lungs. “I'll kill you, stupid bitch!”
You tried to kick him again but he grabbed your ankle and yanked you back towards him.
“Let her go!” You heard Adam shout before the intruder was yanked away from you.
As soon as you were free, you scurried backwards until your back hit the wall then curled your knees up to your chest and dropped your head. You were trying to make yourself small once again.
Kim finished cuffing him and Adam slowly approached you. He reached out to gently touch your shoulder causing you to flail your arms out still on edge from fighting. “No! Get off me. D-don't touch me.”
He gently grabbed your wrist to keep you from hitting him. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s just me, it’s Adam.”
You relaxed slightly, locking eyes with him but still trying to cower away from his touch. “W-Where's Jay?”
Seconds later, Jay burst through the front door as he called out for you. He slid to a stop on his knees beside you. You launched yourself into his arms. He hugged you tightly, sighing in relief that you were okay. “I got you. You’re okay.” He gently pushed you back by your shoulders so he could look at you. His eyes swept over your face, taking in the blooming bruises, the small laceration at your temple, and a split lip. “Ruzek, you call an ambo?”
“No, no, no.” You quickly protested before Adam could answer. “No ambulance. No hospital.”
“Kim did, they’re on the way,” Adam answered.
Jay shook his head. “Yeah, hospital. You gotta get checked out.”
“Please no. Just Will, please,” you begged. “And Kelly. Can you call him, please?”
“Yeah, okay,” Jay soothed. ”I’ll get him.” You heard him whisper to Adam to have the medics stand by in case Will needed them. Then he picked up his phone and dialed Kelly on speaker.
“Jay? It’s 1 am.” Kelly answered, immediately on alert.
“Hey, man,” Jay greeted. “Someone broke into Y/N’s apartment. She’s okay and we arrested the guy but she’s asking for you. Can you come over here?”
“Oh, my god. You’re sure she’s okay?”
“I'm fine,” you answered before Jay could.
“Mostly. A few bruises and pretty shaken up,” Jay explained as if you hadn't. ”Will is on his way here to check her over.”
“Okay, I have to go tell Boden and get squad taken out of service. Should I meet you guys at the hospital?” Kelly asked.
Jay sighed. “No, just head over here to her apartment. She doesn’t want to go unless Will says she has to.”
“Alright, I’ll be there as fast as I can. I'm coming, baby.” He hung up the phone.
Jay pulled you tighter against himself once more. “He will be here soon. Let’s go sit down on the couch, okay?”
Jay wrapped your blanket around your shoulders then sat down with you. Instantly burying yourself into his shoulder, you didn’t realize you were crying until Jay was shushing you. “He said he was going to—” A hash sob interrupted the thought.
“Shh, I got you. You’re okay. Just breathe.”
You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but the next thing you knew Will was sitting on your coffee table in front of you. He cautiously set his hand on your knee. “Hey, kiddo.”
Pushing yourself to sit a bit straighter, you responded simply, “Hi.”
“Can you tell me what hurts?” His eyes swept slowly over your face as he asked.
“I’m fine. Nothing really even hurts that much.”
He sighed. “You are probably still in shock. Once the adrenaline wears off, you’re going to feel it.”
He had just started to check if you had any obvious facial fractures when Kelly rushed into the apartment. “Oh, god. Sweetheart.”
Standing, you let him pull you into a tight hug. You hiccuped as you started to cry again.
He wrapped his hand around the back of your head, pulling you closer into him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re safe now.”
After a minute, he released you, both sitting back on the couch so Will could finish. “You probably have a concussion.” He gently took your right arm in his hands. “Did you punch the guy?”
You nodded. “Uh, a couple times, I think.”
“Atta girl,” Jay muttered quietly.
“Can you make a fist?” Will asked. You did as asked. “And flatten out your hand.” Again, you did. Or at least you tried. Your pinky wasn’t quite where you knew it should be.
You watched as the three of them silently exchanged looks.
Will just nodded. “Your hand doesn’t hurt?”
Shrugging, you answered. “Uh, it’s starting to a little. But not that bad.”
“Okay, well we are going to Med,” Will told you.
“Can we not?”
Will gave you a sympathetic look. “Sorry, kiddo. Your hand is broken and—”
“Do you suddenly have x-ray vision?” You interrupted. “Maybe it’s a sprain.”
“No, you punched someone and now you can’t straighten out your pinky. Definitely broken, it’s called a boxer’s fracture,” he explained. “Hopefully, it just needs to be set and casted. We are also going to get a head CT just to be safe.”
“You said it’s just a concussion!” You whined.
“I said ‘probably, just a concussion’. But we’re getting the scan to be sure.”
“I don’t want the ambulance,” you argued.
Will rubbed your shoulder. “That’s fine. Kelly can drive you and Jay and I will follow. How’s that sound?”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “Can you do it?”
“Drive you?” Will asked.
“No. Fix my hand and the CT or whatever.”
Will shook his head. “No way Ms. Goodwin lets me treat my own sister. I will get Marcel to do it though and we will be there the whole time, okay?”
You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You knew the adrenaline in your system was crashing because everything was starting to hurt. Letting yourself settle into the safe feeling of being surrounded by Kelly and your brothers, you finally agreed. “Okay.”
“Alright. Let’s go.” Will offered you a hand to help you up off the couch.
As soon as all of you were standing, the dizziness started. It was sudden and intense. “Whoa.”
“What?” Kelly asked.
You felt yourself sway. “I'm really di–” you tried to explain as the world tilted and went dark.
“On three,” you heard someone say. “One, two, three.” You opened your eyes as you were lifted and shifted onto a bed in the ED at Med.
You heard Dr Marcel start ordering tests and Monique and Doris were on either side of you touching and moving your arms. You noticed Will, Jay, and Kelly near the door and suddenly you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your vision started to blur as your breaths came in desperate gasps. It sounded like you were in a tunnel, everything distorted and far away.
Will stepped closer and took your good hand in his, squeezing firmly. You saw his lips moving but couldn't make out the words. Then Kelly moved, he placed his hands on either side of your face forcing your focus to his eyes. You saw the tears welling along his lower lashes. “Come on baby, just breathe.” His voice broke through the haze.
“I-I-I can-can't,” you pushed out through stuttered breaths.
“Yes, you can.” He took a slow deep breath, your body naturally trying to follow suit. “Just slow, deep breaths. They don't want to have to sedate you before they assess the concussion. You're safe, I promise.”
You finally managed to slow your breathing and nod. “I'm safe,” you repeated.
Kelly smiled before kissing your forehead. “Doris is just going to check your vitals and Monique is going to start an IV. You know them both, right?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
You managed to stay calm for the next hour as you were poked and prodded, x-rayed, rolled upstairs for a CT scan, and asked what felt like a million questions about what had happened. Kelly sat by your side, holding your hand, for most of that time while your brothers stood nearby but out of the way.
By the time they were done running tests and resetting your hand, you were beyond exhausted. But you couldn't sleep. Every time you closed your eyes you saw his face and jolted awake.
Will and Dr Marcel were standing near the light board talking before they turned their attention back to you. “No facial fractures or broken ribs and only a mild concussion.” Dr Marcel explained. “I know you're probably tired. You can go ahead and get some rest. We will move you upstairs just for observation until tomorrow.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, you just wanted to go to Kelly’s loft where he could hold you in bed and hopefully you'd finally fall asleep. “Can't I go home? Kelly knows what to watch for.” You weren't above begging.
Dr Marcel shook his head. “Just tonight to be safe.” Will nodded his agreement and you felt a tear slide down your face.
Kelly wiped it away quickly. “It's just one night, sweetheart. Barely. It's already after 3 am.”
“I know. But I just want you to hold me,” a sob broke free with the last word. “I keep seeing h-him. I can't fall asleep.”
Quicker than you could process, Kelly released the side rail on the bed and shifted in beside you carefully. He pulled you into his chest and peppered kisses across the top of your head. “I can still do that. I'm right here.”
Will came in the door with Monique close behind. You hadn't even noticed him leaving. Monique quickly flushed your IV before pushing medication through the line. “Just something to help you sleep,” Will explained. “Tomorrow you can talk to Dr Charles and he can help. Deal?”
Your eyelids fluttered closed moments later. “Mmhmm,” you mumbled. “Deal.”
When you woke, the sun was bright through the window. You realized immediately that you weren't in the ED anymore. Kelly was in a chair on your left with his head rested beside your leg on the bed, fast asleep. Jay sat in a chair on your right, scrolling on his phone. And Will was pacing between the door and the foot of your bed.
You took a deep breath and shifted slightly causing pain to shoot through every bruise and sore muscle. “Owww,” you whined, alerting your brothers that you were awake.
Will was beside you in a flash. “What hurts?”
You winced. “Might be quicker to tell you what doesn't.”
He ran his fingers softly over the top of your head. “I'll go get you another dose of morphine, okay?”
“Yes, please.” You agreed as he headed out of the room.
You lifted your hand and dropped it on Kelly’s head, startling him awake. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted.
Will came back and pushed the meds. The pain dwindled almost instantly. “You ready to get out of here?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Marcel is signing your discharge papers as we speak so we can head out here soon,” Will explained.
“I don't want to go back to my apartment,” you told them.
Kelly shook his head. “You can't anyway. You're coming home with me.”
You shook your head and he frowned. “No, I mean… I don't think I ever want to go back.”
Kelly chuckled. “Do you want to move in with me?”
“I don't want to just because I'm afraid to go back to mine. I don't want to rush into that if you're not ready.”
“I'm ready. We're ready,” he started. “I was planning to ask you before your lease renewed anyway.”
You smiled. “Maybe I should thank that creep for making this happen early.”
“That's not funny,” Jay chimed in.
“I agree,” Kelly added. “I'm just glad you're okay.”
“Us, too,” Will said. “I never want to see you in here again.
"Not even to have lunch with my favorite brother?" you asked.
"Hey!" Jay protested. "I'm right here."
"Smart ass," Will rolled his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."
