One story, three parts.

Part One.

Hail Mary...

Jay Halstead takes a slow breath in and counts to ten before slowly blowing it out. Breath in, ten, and out. It's rhythmic and soothing. Just like repeating Hail Mary's the way his mother taught him to say when he was small. Soothing that's what he has to focus on. Calm. Which is the exact opposite of this situation... this situation. Because this situation is not good. But he can't dwell on that. Breath in, ten, and out. Recite the Hail Mary.

He knows exactly how he got here though.

Buried alive.

And he doesn't regret it, just wishes he wasn't, you know, buried alive.

\\\

Intelligence was full out running down the Magnificent Mile. Crowded with afternoon traffic, tourist, students, people everywhere. Not an ideal place to be chasing a drug smuggler and potential murder suspect. Not that chasing a drug smuggling, murder suspect had ever been good but today had been particularly bad. It had rained hard in the early morning hours and made the sidewalks puddle and slick.

The case had really gone south when the suspect had wrapped his arms around a boy with brown skin and amber colored eyes. He couldn't have been more than 8, dressed in prep school uniform, and a bright blue rain parka. There had been a whole lot of shouting, the kid, his 10ish year old sister, Voight, the suspect. The kid was too tiny to fight off the 6'5 assailant, being pulled towards the getaway van. And then Jay did the unthinkable, he's the closest and the beautiful little girl who will never grow up because of him runs through his mind. So many other's he's failed in the last couple of years.

So he'd lowered his weaponed, begged to switch places with the kid, took off his vest, and when that didn't work he volunteered to go too. He had locked eyes with Voight. Finally his sergeant had nodded his head, lowering his own weapon. The van is at the corner, waiting.

It was of course a shot in the dark. Once in the back of the utility van, he'd been made to lie on his belly. Nothing keeping him there expect the driver with a gun pointed at the small kid's head up front. There would have been no chance he could have gotten them both out safely if he tried to take out the two in the back with him.

His best guess had been an hour driving. Then there'd been a change from the paved road to the pop of gravel. And then the stop, Jay's stomach had lurched. The kid and the driver get out first and then the back opens and he was pulled out too. The sky is gray and pale, the fading colors almost dark. A vacant lot surrounded by trees, nothing to distinguish it. He hadn't recognized anything. But the faint roar of traffic he could hear had told him they weren't too far from the city.

"Listen to me," Jay had whispered. The trio had made Jay and the young boy stand by the van while they argued. Apparently snatching a kid and a cop had not been on the plan today.

A storage container had been in the deep ground. The man who had grabbed the kid had started pulling drugs and money out of it. Jay had a gut feeling about what they might plan on refiling it with. "Listen to me, okay?"

The little boy nodded, tears filled his eyes. His wiped at his nose but his eyes stayed on Jay.

"The road isn't far, it's right back that way. I'm going to get them to go after me and you run, okay? Run right back out there and flag down as many cars as possible. Okay, buddy? Count to three and go." Jay whispered and then started moving. He didn't really have a plan so much as just get the kid time as much time as possible.

"Hey!" Jay called drawing their attention. He didn't wait for them to react just rushed the closet guy, getting a few good blows in to the taller man's face. The kid had taken off in the opposite direction. There's a scuffle as two of them try to subdue Jay and the other runs after the boy.

Jay kept fighting till he feels his shoulder give out of place. Then came the sharp blow on the back of his head. It was so painful it felt almost paralyzing. Before his vision totally faded he saw the large guy, by some small miracle trip and fall. Hit the mud with a soft plump.

And the boy in the bright blue parka had disappeared into the dimming light.

...full of grace...

\\\

Between his pounding head and how uncomfortably hot he's getting, Jay is pretty much over this. He wiggles around some, shifting his shoulders. He thinks he worked his shoulder back in place but it's definitely not feeling good. Either way he doesn't like being all cramped up. This thing he's buried in, it's bigger than a coffin but not big enough for him to sit up.

He's guessing he was out roughly forty-five minutes, long enough for them to drag him over to the container, seal it, and throw the roughly four feet of dirt back over it. And leave. Because it's quiet, too quiet. Like the night in Afghanistan him and Mouse were stranded after the Humvee incident. Quiet and dark like that night, his head was hurting then too come to think of it. Actually his whole body was hurting then... But that's not a good memory. Calm, happy, memories. Breathe in, count to ten, exhale. Breathe in, count to ten, exhale. Repeat a Hail Mary.

This is so boring. So very boring. Like being on desk duty. Desk duty was worse though because he felt like a kid in time out.

He taps his fingers on the steel beneath him. His back is starting to irritate him from laying so flat. He has enough room to push his knees up and kick some again. He did that when he first woke up, but it's solid, not budging, and he's got to conserve his air. They should be here by now, the kid should have made it to the highway. Somebody should have called for help, Intelligence probably just... got stuck in traffic. But they are on the way to get him. Any minute now. He drums his fingers and does the ten second breathing trick. He rolls his shoulders and neck.

Unless the kid...

Jay takes a deep breath and says another Hail Mary. The kid is fine, he's fine, it's all fine. Fine.

His mom taught him to say Hail Mary when he was about four, if he remembered right. His mom had been the exact opposite of his dad. His dad had been a hard man, it wasn't to say he had been a bad dad. He was just a hard man. His only softness showed when it came to his boys' mother. She's a happy memory. Her presence was always like sunshine, she was warm and loving. She'd come into his room at night when he was afraid of the dark and cry out for her. She'd been a devout Catholic her whole life. Raised in the Irish-Catholic ways and church. She would first say a Hail Mary and then he crawl into her lap while she hummed Irish lullabies till he fell asleep.

He misses his mom. A lot. He sniffs a little remembering her calming smile. She had been so calm, even when she got sick. She was so very calm. Calm and peaceful. She's at peace now for sure he knows. But he misses her none the less. Breathe in, count to ten, exhale.

A few hours have passed now. Maybe. He forgot his watch this morning, so he's not really sure. At one point this morning he thought that was going to be the worse part of his day. He lets out a chuckle, man was he way wrong.

It's still a toss up about being here or being on desk duty. He sighs blowing out a breath. Ten and out. Ten and out. It's better than desk duty because at least he can nap. Nap without being judged. Jay closes his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep. It'll pass the time till they get here and get him out. And breathing and heart rate slow when sleeping so that will work in his favor. He closes his eyes, there's no difference in the dark when they are open and when they're shut. He says another Hail Mary and falls asleep to his mother's lullaby.

...the Lord is with thee...

\\\

He wakes up to total darkness, but he hears voices this time. It's about time. Jay lets out a sigh of relief, everything is okay now. His eyes are just taking a minute to readjust. He blinks a few time till the figure beside him comes into focus.

Gregory Yates.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"What the..." Jay kicks back pushing away but Yates catches his arm and holds it firm. His hands are dry and cold against Jay's hot skin. No matter how hard he tries to squirm away isn't making any progress. Nothing is working. Yates shoves his arms back against his own chest, the twinge in his shoulder makes him his in pain. "Let me go! No. No. Stop. Let me go!"

"Always feisty, like your partner." Yates chuckles, pressing his thumb up under Jay's chin and forcing his head up. His nails dig into Jay's throat. "Look at me when I speak, it isn't polite to look away. Didn't your mother teach you better?"

There's an eerie chuckle. Lonnie Rodiger is suddenly there too, hovering over him on the other side. Jay feels his heart race in his chest. Lonnie touches his cheek, fingers clammy and over eager. He keeps petting Jay's cheek. Jay tries to twist away but he doesn't have anywhere to go. Trapped and things keep going from bad to worst. "Doesn't know any better. His mommy is dead."

"So are the both of you." Jay bites back. He spits and with his free hand claws at the two above him.

They both laugh. Hovering above him their eyes sink into their skulls and start rotting away.

"So what does that make you?" Yates asks him in the silence.

\\\

His eyes snap open in the blackness and his chest feels tight. He's all alone. Still buried but alone. It was just a dream, just a dream. He tries to get back to his ten second breathing rhythm but he gags. He bites the inside of his lip and swallow thickly. His mouth is dry and now all he can think about is the soft dirt he's buried under. The air is stale and too warm closed up in here, he wants to be out so bad. To feel the coolness of the rainy grass on top.

How many hours have passed now? Too many.

Something is wrong, it's been too long already. He can't help but start to wander how much longer? Before he runs out of air? Dizzy and exhausted but still time to be saved? After? When his lips are blue, face pale, and body stiff? Or years later? Once his body has decayed down to nothing but bones and teeth and fingernails? He doesn't want to die like this. Not like this.

And if nobody is coming... that means the little boy didn't make it. He didn't even ask his name. He failed him. Jay Halstead has failed yet another kid.

Hail Mary... full of grace...

He stifles a cry and realizes his breathing has quickened, way too fast and uneven. Most likely they caught the kid before he made it to the highway. No one is coming and calming down seems useless at this point. He wants out, wants to sleep, wants his mom, wants the boy's mom to know how sorry he is. His head is pounding and he starts kicking and screaming. Something is wrong, really wrong. He can't catch his breath and his head is killing him. Finally Jay gives in to the panic attack that's been waiting to take him.

...pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

TBC.

It's a bit messy but I imagine anyone in a situation like this wouldn't exactly be the clearest thinker. Trying something a little different in my writing but keeping the Jay whump themes. Hopefully part two will be up later this week.

Thanks for reading!