It always started with his heart. It happened at the most random of times; maybe it was a certain smell recepted by his olfactory bulbs, or something he witnessed arbitrarily. But his heart would be the first to react. It would go from his normal resting heart rate to the feeling of it reverberating against his ribcage so hard that it would give him a headache. That was his second symptom. His vision would start to blur the second his attention wavered from his heart and he was stuck in his mind; stuck in hell. His fingernails would dig into the creamy skin on the palm of his hand as the feeling of losing control of himself would settle in, and he knew he was doomed. His breathing would become ragged and his legs, weak, before they would completely give out underneath him.
And that's how Jay Halstead's panic attacks would strike.
4:42 pm: Erin and Jay's apartment
It was one of those rare days where one of them was home without the other. But Erin had just finished an undercover op and needed to fill out a pile of paperwork, making sure her T's were crossed and her I's were dotted. She needed to add as much detail as she could, and she knew that Jay waiting on her would only hinder her ability to do that, so she sent him home.
He placed his keys on the table near the front door with a thud, listening to the casing of the rifle bullet clank against the keys he had to the front door, the mailbox, and his car. His eyes grazed over the small calendar that Erin insisted on keeping, even though she asked him literally every day what the date was. June 30th.
He furrowed his brows, not believing what he saw, only to confirm it as he pulled out the iPhone from his pocket and read the screen. June 30th. He felt the goosebumps covering his body and the chill that shot up and down his spine.
And that's when his heart started to quicken.
He didn't hear the front door to the apartment open, and his hand automatically went to his right hip when he felt a couple of arms squeezing his core. Only to relax when he felt her kiss his t-shirt clad back.
He tried his best to regain his composure before she turned him around to face her, but she still managed to see past the facade he played up.
"What's wrong, babe?" Her hand rubbed gently over his chest, a method she noticed that seemed to calm him down, and her too.
"N-nothing. You just caught me off guard. Why are you home so early?" He cleared his throat multiple times, trying to get past the thick emotions that clouded his mind, only to fail.
"Hank sent me home. Told me to get some rest. You don't look like too ecstatic to see me though. It is my first night back home in a week." Her voice dropped low, and she purposely added some extra rasp, succeeding in seducing him. Her hand traveled from his chest, down his abs, and finally, underneath his shirt. She fiddled with his belt slightly as her fingers grazed the curly hair on the hem of his boxers.
His eyes involuntarily closed as she tortured him, and before he knew it, he was grabbing her under her ass and carrying her towards the bed, the calendar forgotten, and Jay showing Erin just how much he missed her.
8:13 pm: Jay and Erin's Apartment
After giving her 3 orgams in bed and one in the shower, Jay found himself in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. Like always, he settled on a bottle of his favourite beer, Budweiser, and leaned against the countertop. He toyed with the label with his thumb as his mind went back to his earlier thoughts.
It was a date that was going to be etched in his mind until his last breath. A date where the horrors of Afghanistan would intrude into his personal life every year at the same time. He thought about Erin, and how it would be the first year they lived together during the anniversary. No wonder he had forgotten about the day. Having her around gave him a distraction. He always closed himself off from everyone during this time. He would show up for work and head straight home when he was done, always refusing drinks at Molly's, knowing well how much he would end up drinking. Nobody needed to witness him spiral.
His legs shook as his mind travelled to the sandy hell he endured for 2 tours, 4 years, of his life. June 30th. The day he watched one of his best friends die as he tried his best to stop the blood from seeping out from under his hands. The day where his best friend begged him for some morphine, to take some of his pain away, to give him a quick, painless death. The day where he witnessed his best friend's eyes roll back into his head as he breathed out his last jagged breath.
Jay quickly brought himself back into reality, willing that his heart rate go back to normal. His hands shook as they gripped the beer bottle with a death grip, before he dumped it in the sink and proceeded towards the master bathroom, jumping into the shower. He scrubbed his hands hard, willing for the image of blood to rinse off of them.
And that was his first trigger.
On July 1st, Hank wasn't so lenient on letting Erin go home early, so she was stuck at the precinct while Jay went home. He stopped to pick up some Chinese food before he decided on channel surfing. The world seemed to stand still whenever he wasn't around Erin. She was his light in darkness, and she was the best thing to ever happen to him. She was the only thing. His only thing. And whenever he was alone and away from her, time went at snail's pace.
6:47 pm: Jay and Erin's Apartment
As he clicked through the channels, his body shook when he witnessed the one scene of a movie. He had memorized the scene before he left for war, and it was easily one of his favourite movies. When he came home, he couldn't even bring himself to listen to any of the songs from that movie.
Saving Private Ryan.
It was the 3 explosions first. The one's that kept ringing in his ears. Then it was the look on Corporal Upham's face, an innocent being thrown into the midst of war, watching his friend bleed out right in front of him. The look that reminded Jay all too much of himself. Ultimately, it was when the dying soldier began to cry and as he begged for his mother and wanting to go home that Jay felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. They were cold compared to the heat emanating off of his face.
He couldn't bring himself to change the channel, it was as if he was paralyzed, both mentally and physically. It was when Erin came up from behind him and gently grabbed the remote from his hand, before turning to face the TV to turn it off. She placed the remote on the coffee table and squatted down in front of him, grabbing both of his hands in hers. She rubbed her thumbs comfortingly on his skin, hoping to relax him. But his tears fell like waterfalls.
She got up and sat next to him on the couch, and forced his head into the crook of her neck. She moved her hand up and down his back as he sobbed. It was evident to her what was unfolding. Yet she was completely oblivious to the significance of that movie scene.
His second trigger.
July 2nd started off being tangled with Erin under the sheets. He was aware that she never let him go for a second that night as they slept. Whenever he pulled away slightly to readjust his position, she seemed to snuggle closer.
He woke up first and enjoyed the warmth that her body transferred to his. Her face was nuzzled against his chest and one of her arms lay lazily across his hip. She had one of his legs trapped in between both of hers, so if he were to pull it away, she would wake up.
He rubbed the small of her back with his thumb where her shirt had ridden up while she slept, pulling her out of her slumber. She smiled before opening her eyes, and when she did, her eyes lifted to find his lips.
"Sleep okay?" Her morning voice was incredibly sexy to him and he smiled as she stretched.
"Mhmm."
"You doing okay, though?" Concern quickly swept over her face as she searched his blue eyes for a plea for help. She watched him stutter for a second before he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
"I'm fine, babe." He managed in between kisses.
"You know, you always tell me that I don't have to fight my demons alone, and you're always there to help me carry the weight on my shoulders. What I saw last night, that was not fine. I'm here for you, just like you're here for me."
"It's just a bad time for me."
"Why?"
He knew she would question him. But her inquiry caught him off guard. Could he really let her witness his darkness? The darkness that consumed the Jay she loved into a Jay she had never seen. One that would likely hurt her with his harsh words or one that would end up saying the wrong thing that would chase her away.
He watched her searching his face for an answer, the same look she would give in interrogations when she was trying to figure out if a suspect was lying, only with more empathy.
"Uhm… it's been a while but, I, uhm, I had a friend that died around this time. It was overseas. The movie scene last night just kinda took me back." Her saw her physically deflate at his confession. Her brows furrowed in regret and she opened her mouth to say something, only to have no words come out. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm fine."
"Jay…"
"No, Erin. Trust me, I'm good." There was a hint of assertiveness in his voice, one that would reluctantly lead Erin to agreeing.
"Well, it's Saturday. And our first Saturday off in weeks. What should we do?" Her quick change of topic caught him off guard, yet he would gladly talk about something else.
"How about breakfast? I was thinking pancakes?" Her eyes lit up at his suggestion as she eagerly bobbed her head up and down. He chuckled before placing a kiss on her lips and getting out of bed, heading towards the kitchen, leaving Erin completely oblivious to how much he was dealing with.
He didn't know what triggered his memory, but it was vivid. He sat on the couch later that night, with Erin's head in his lap. She had fallen asleep as he gently stroked her hair while he continued to watch TV. One moment he was watching the highlights from the Sox game, and the next his vision was blurred.
Jay's apartment, July 3rd, 2005. 3:23am.
The liquor bottles littered the coffee table and the countertop next to the kitchen sink. Pill bottles with his name were strewn haphazardly over the floor and sink in his bathroom. He held his phone in his shaking right hand, with Mouse on the other end.
He was seething. He couldn't tell whether or not it was from anger, pain, guilt, or all of the above. But he couldn't control himself. It was the first year after that day. The day where he lost the last ounce of innocence he had.
"Jay, please listen to me. I'm coming. Just hold on a bit longer. I'm begging you." Mouse's voice was rushed, but the second he saw the name 'Jay Halstead' flashed against his phone screen in the middle of the night, he was out of bed, and headed towards the front door. "Just keep talking to me."
All Mouse listened to was the heavy breathing of his best friend, accompanied with uncontrollable sobs. He didn't live too far away from Jay's apartment, and at this time of night, he would be over in a flash.
When he came up to the brown, wooden door, he didn't knock. He turned the knob and walked in, taking in the atmosphere around him. When his eyes stopped on the glass littering the floor in the kitchen, he realized what had caused Jay's trigger.
Mouse found him in his bedroom, but when he turned on the light, his heart dropped into his stomach. All his eyes could focus on was the Beretta M9 clocked against his temple.
"Jay…"
"I. Can't. Anymore."
"Jay, please don't do this." Mouse watched his shaking finger on the trigger, noticing that the safety of the gun was still locked. His own hands shook as he held them out in front of him. "Jay, you're better than this."
He scoffed.
"Yeah, drinking and popping pills until I'm blacking out is ideal. I should've ended this long ago." There was maliciousness to his words, and the smile he gave Mouse would forever be etched in memory.
"Can you at least put the gun down?" At his word's, Jay turned the safety off, and a visible shudder went through Mouse's body. "Please, for me. Don't do this to me."
Jay's teary eyes shot open the second Mouse uttered those words. His stare burned the one that Mouse returned. The metal of the gun was cool compared to his clammy hand as he slowly brought the gun down into his lap.
"What'd you just say to me?"
"Jay, wait I didn't mean it like that."
"SAY IT AGAIN." Jay's anger bounced off of the walls of his apartment as his voice rose.
"Jay, c'mon. If you can't keep living for yourself, then do it for me. I know you can do so much better than this. You are much better than this."
"You know, I just find it funny how I have a choice right now to hurt you, but you and I both know that all those guys we lost back there didn't. Their families and their wives would probably give all their limbs to have them back. And you're telling me solely not to shoot myself because you'll get hurt? That's pathetic Mouse." His words were spewed with venom but Mouse took his hate. He knew as long as he kept talking that he wouldn't have a chance to pull the trigger.
Mouse approached Jay slowly, still with his hands in front of him.
"Yeah I know. I'm so selfish for saying that aren't I? But what good is it going to do if we gotta hold another funeral. What about all the guys that came back with us? What about them? What if your death affects them so much that they end it too? What about their families?"
Jay absorbed his words, repeatedly blinking to make sure no more of his tears fell. He watched Mouse come closer to him, grasping at the M9 and pulling it away from him. He unloaded the gun quickly before stuffing it in his waistband. He watched Jay break down completely and he held him as he tried his best to console him, trying not to break down himself.
"It's okay, man. Let it out."
10:32am, Bullpen
"C'mon Erin, it'll be a good time. It's Fourth of July!" Kim's persistent begging had Erin's resolve fading. She had this idea of driving over to New York City with some of the girls down at Med and the firehouse for a Fourth of July bash. Only Erin wasn't too ecstatic. She wanted to spend the holiday with Jay and only Jay.
"She's right, you should go." His voice came from the break room door as he walked to his desk with a cup of coffee. She gave him a skeptical look as they communicated without the need for words before she nodded her head towards Kim.
"Fine, I'll go."
2:32pm, Erin and Jay's Apartment
"I'm gonna miss you tonight, thought we could've celebrated the country's independence." Jay wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're the one that told me to go so don't say a word. What're you going to do anyways while I'm gone?"
"Will and I are going to grab a couple of drinks down at Molly's with the guys."
"Well have fun with that. Call or text me if you need anything. Love you." Erin placed a kiss on his lips before walking out the door.
7:45pm, Molly's
True to his word, Jay drank a couple of beers with Will surrounded with the other guys. He called it an early night, finding himself exhausted. The week had been crazy with two major busts and his morning was full of paperwork before Voight sent everyone home to enjoy the holiday.
He curled up on the black leather sofa, switching through the channels on TV. He could feel his eyelids drooping before they shot back open when he got a text message.
Erin, 10:58pm EST
How's your night?
Jay, 9:58pm CST
I'm at home now, don't worry about me. Have some fun. Love you.
Erin, 11:00pm EST
Love you more.
His eyes went back to scanning the pictures on the TV screen when it happened.
His last triggers.
The couple next door were polite and quiet, always smiling and saying hello to him and Erin whenever they saw each other. But tonight was different. Tonight they were yelling. He was never going to forget the sound of that language, he had been surrounded by it for years.
Those words being screamed in Arabic had caught him off edge and he tried his best to shut them out, but he couldn't. He distinctly remembered his second tour in Afghanistan. It was when he and his battalion raided the village where Hollingsworth had been kidnapped. There had been yells and screams coming from all the men, women and children, but at the time, he was focused on his task. Tonight, he was focused on the yelling.
His mouth began to get dry and his saliva didn't seem to be doing it's job. He got up off of the couch and walked towards the kitchen, not noticing how badly his hands were shaking.
He filled his glass with cold water and drank it greedily. When he finished, his whole world seemed to come crashing down.
It was the sound of the first firecracker, likely a kid down the street lighting it. His hand loosened the grip on the glass and it came crashing down next to his bare feet. The sound of it hitting the floor rang in his ears and he found himself gripping the countertop until his knuckles turned white. It didn't help that at that exact moment fireworks were popping over top of the building.
And then he felt it in his heart. The feeling of the beats increasing quickly by each second until the hammering gave him a headache. His vision would begin to blur as his knees became weak and his legs would give out underneath him. He doesn't feel the glass cut into his hands as his hands hit the floor. He doesn't care about the blood running down off of his fingertips as he brings his knees up to his chest and hides his face in the middle. He doesn't know how he manages to do it, but his brain is still receptive of what is happening to him. He pulls out his phone from the left pocket of his sweatpants, ignoring how the blood is being transferred.
Jay, 10:32pm CST
Help.
New York City, 11:32pm EST
Her phone buzzed in her hand as she sat in the taxi with the rest of the girls. A smile washed over her face when she noticed his name on her lock screen. It fell in less than a second when she read the lone word sent by him.
The taxi had pulled over to the side as they arrived at their destination, giving Erin enough time to dial his phone number, willing for him to pick up. He didn't. She called him 3 times before he did. And he never spoke. She just listened to his ragged breathing, knowing he was going through another panic attack. Sudden realization dawned upon her as she watched the fireworks lighting up the sky, one's that were likely causing his episode.
"Jay, just take some deep breaths. Talk to me, please. Tell me you're okay." He didn't say anything, his breathing only became heavier. "Jay?" He dropped the phone from his hand, unbeknownst to her because the cuts to his hands had begun to burn.
She called Will twice. But had no luck. His phone went to voicemail both times. She called Antonio, only to find out that he was out of town with his kids. Ruzek and Atwater were on the same boat as Will, so she only had one last resort.
He decided not to knock on the door, knowing that would likely scare Jay even more. Instead, he used the key given to him by Erin and walked into the dark apartment, only illuminated by the TV.
"Jay?" His gruff voice was soft. "Jay, where are you?" Voight heard a shuffle in the kitchen and raced towards it, turning on one of the lights. The scene in front of him broke his heart. He had never seen Jay so vulnerable or susceptible to his surroundings. There was glass next to Jay as he sat on the tile floor, rocking back and forth. His hands were stained with blood and his forehead and hairline had trace amounts of it as well as he sobbed into his knees. Voight squatted down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. Another firecracker went off, making Jay shake and quiver in fear even more.
"Halstead, relax."
He quickly grabbed a wad of paper towels from the countertop and crumpled them up. He forced Jay's hands away from the grip around his knees and held the paper towels to them.
"Jay, I want you to take some deep breaths. It's not going to last much longer. You're okay."
He lost count of how long they sat on the floor together before Jay stopped seething. His sobs had turned to the occasional sniffs. Voight had changed the paper towels against Jay's hands twice, yet the blood continued to flow out at a steady pace.
"I need to get you to a hospital."
"I'm fine." His voice was raspy and he hadn't picked his head out of his knees yet, avoiding the pitying gaze Hank would be giving him.
"You're anything but fine. Erin calling me in the middle of the night asking me to check in tells me the truth. I still haven't called her and I know she's losing her shit so I'm going to take you to the hospital to get looked at while I call her." He helped Jay to his feet and slipped some sandals on his feet before taking him down to the car and towards Chicago Med.
The entire time, Erin's apprehensive voice rang through his ears. Her voice was rushed and breathy and at that moment Voight realized how much Jay really meant to her. He watched Jay through his periphery and noticed his slumped shoulders. He had never seen one of his best detectives so broken.
As Jay had his hands prodded and stitched, Hank decided to call Erin to update her. He watched Jay the entire time through the glass doors and couldn't help but notice the vacant look on his face. He didn't react to the lidocaine being injected multiple times in each of his hands nor when the doctor stitched his wounds closed.
After his wounds were cleaned and bandaged over, he was to be kept overnight for observation. His skin was paler than normal, due to his blood loss, so he was attached to a blood line for a couple of hours.
Voight sat in the chair adjacent to the bed, listening to the steady beeps of the machines coming from the wires attached to Jay's chest. He was engrossed in his phone, texting Erin updates on Jay's condition while she made her way back to Chicago.
"I'm sorry." Voight's gaze went towards Jay, meeting his eyes. He was sure he had fallen asleep, but when Jay's tired voice spoke, it had startled him.
"For what?"
"Freaking Erin out and bringing you into this. I should've known today would've triggered me after the last few days."
"Halstead, don't apologize. It can happen to anyone. Get some sleep, you really need it."
No more words were spoken in between the two men and soon Jay was asleep. The sun was rising the next morning when Erin walked through the doors into his room. Her eyes scanned over his hands before she sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a kiss on his forehead, making sure not to wake him up. She held his hand in her lap gently.
"Thank you." Voight gave her a puzzled look. "I don't know what I'd do without him." He gave her a soft smile as his eyes glazed over with tears.
"You've got a good one Erin, don't let him go."
/
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