Maybe I should do something happier next time? Oh well, enjoy some pain.
Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Spent by the telephone
That never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
~ You Found Me by The Fray
He hoped and prayed that somehow—some way—she'd figure out he's suffering. That he needs her. Maybe God would give her a feeling in her chest—a squeezing, burning feeling that was too much to ignore. A feeling that meant something was wrong. That he was in trouble.
His cell phone sat on the tile floor next to him as he shivered and sweat poured down his face. The team had met up earlier at Molly's for drinks, but he always limited himself to two when he was out with them. It was always coming home that was the most difficult. Because when he came home, there was no one to witness his spiral; there was no one to stop him. Because when he came home, the eerie silence of his apartment drove him crazy. Because when he came home, he realized how much he needed her. And he figured that out a long time ago.
But he wasn't sure that she needed him.
It had been months, and they had no contact with each other. All his calls and texts went unanswered and even when he spoke to Voight about her he didn't get any information about how she was doing. He never even got to say a goodbye. The fact that she didn't even look back was enough of an answer as to if she needed him.
She didn't. He was sure of it.
Hoping and praying was all he could do; maybe one day she'd call him to say that New York wasn't working out and she was coming home. It was hope that he shouldn't be holding on to because he knew how much worse it was going to hurt when her life was going to be fully established in a city where he didn't live.
In a life where he didn't exist.
Jay couldn't even count the number of nights where he thought she would walk through his apartment door again. She'd kick off her boots at the door and hang up her coat simultaneously. Next, she'd place her keys down next to his, before either collapsing on the couch next to him or bee-lining to the fridge for beer.
But she never did walk through that door and all he could do was imagine that she would.
Work was hell, all he could do to fill the silence in the car was listen to the radio. Trying to banter with Upton just wasn't the same—it never would be the same. During one stakeout, a Bruno Mars song came on and he was sure he was going to lose it.
My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways
Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life
Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh
And it haunts me everytime I close my eyes
He quickly slammed the button on his side of the car closer to the end of the song, turning off the radio. The silence was better than some sappy love song, and he couldn't help but notice how much he related to it.
Because he hoped that the next guy buys her flowers, and holds her hand.
Jay pushed his face back into the toilet as he felt the contents of his stomach making its way up. He was sure he had done it this time—one drink too many. He should call Will, just in case he poisoned himself with all the alcohol.
But Will was busy with Natalie, he had his own life to live. He was finally getting his shit together and Jay couldn't ruin that.
At least one Halstead was doing okay.
"Ugh, fuck." Jay reached up and flushed the toilet for what felt like the hundredth time that night, at least this time he was feeling slightly better. His head stopped spinning so fast and he actually managed to lie down against the cold tile without becoming nauseated.
He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would consume him quickly. Because when he slept, he didn't have to deal with everything. He didn't have to constantly deal with losing the love of his life and the feelings that came with her departure, nor did he have to deal with the stress of his PTSD or depression. However the occasional nightmare would rouse him from his blissful state, only to remind him of the nightmare he was living in—the one he couldn't escape.
When he heard his phone ringing, it felt like his prayers had been answered—that maybe someone heard him and that maybe she did care. As he pushed himself up from his position and reclined against the bathtub, his noticed his vision was foggy—probably from the lack of sleep he reasoned. The sound of his phone vibrating against the tile sounded like a jackhammer against concrete and when he brought it closer to his face with excitement, he deflated like a balloon that was losing all of its air. The weight on his shoulders felt unbearable and he considered not answering his phone at all. But Jay knew that he would call back anyways so he swiped his thumb across the screen before putting his phone to his ear.
"Halstead."
"We just caught a case, I'll text you the address. See you in 20."
Jay quickly picked himself off the floor of his bathroom, slightly unbalanced, before looking into the mirror. His eyes were rimmed red and they looked sunken, almost as if he wasn't living. Turning on the tap, he splashed some cold water on his face before swishing some in his mouth. He returned to his bedroom to put on a fresh shirt and jeans and sprayed some cologne on himself to get rid of the smell that was likely reeking off of him.
Turning off the lights around his apartment, he pushed his feet into his boots that were neatly lined up at the front door. He took a deep breath as he closed the door behind him and locked it, holding his head up high as if nothing was wrong.
I've been calling
For years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messeges
You never send me no letters
You got some kind of nerve
Taking all I want
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