Summary: When Jay was missing, the investigation shed a layer of a missing memory from his childhood and it becomes a dark shadow they never knew.

Warning : I change the warning. Mention of drug abuse in earlier chapters and child abuse in later chapters.

Author's Note : I never post any new story for almost a year. I have a lot of plot bunnies (including some from the prompts I received) but it seems like, when you stop writing, you kinda forgot how to write one. I'm not satisfied at all with this but, I need to start with something. Also, I have no idea what I should write in next chapter, so read at your own risk. So here we goes. As usual, no beta reader so there're gonna be mistakes because English is not my first language.

Disclaimer : CPD and their characters belong to NBC and the production team. Also, I'm not sure how Chicago Police radioed their code, but I try to write it anyway. The title Silhouette was taken from Aquilo's song. My original idea should be in the lyrics (part of).

Silhouette

Prologue

by SingleMinded

It felt like his legs had been chained to a big heavy rock and he was forced to run with it. Every step seemed like a day to lift up, a week to swing ahead and a year to reach the next spot. Everything was tough – his move, his breathing, his view and even his head never felt this way before. The ache was knocking his skull every two seconds and he didn't know how to stop it. He should lie down.

But he couldn't.

He shouldn't.

The grey shirt felt damped to his clammy skin. Blood? Maybe. The metallic scent hit his nostrils hard enough to ignore. But every single inch of his body was numb to even feel any injuries. That was alarming.

Right?

However his heart was responding the other way around – far too calm for his liking. Calm should be good but not right now. It was strange. Human's body had a natural ability to be responsive to its surrounding. So should his. Maybe he was still asleep.

Wake up, Jay!

The air was so hot, worsening his already ragged and heavy breathing. He grunted. The dark, grassy room was spinning. But he shouldn't stop. He needed to get out of the unfamiliar room, somewhere else, anywhere outside – any place he could ease the pain in his head. .

Opening the door and left it ajar, the wind blew to his skin and made him shiver. The thin sweatshirt and shady blue jeans were obviously not enough to protect his skin from the wind. He really wanted to hug himself, kept his body warm as he preferred but again, his mind didn't work. He wasn't moving as he thought he would. The only thing he did was walking and kept walking. Bare foots landed on the small sharp stones, scratching the pale skin and leaving some dirt there.

Why is he there? Where is the team? Why can't he remember anything at all?

He passed the motel's single parking lot, dragging his legs onto the grass, approaching the main road. It was a slow move but he managed to get by edge of the asphalt. Everything was blurry and the world was moving slower and slower. He couldn't name anything he saw because it was surreal.

A drunken junkie – that must be what people saw him now.

He made a small step onto the blacktop, not halting after the first as he went further onto the road.

However a loud noise shoved inside his ears unexpectedly – like a fast stab of needle. As it felt like he was being attacked, he brought his right hand slowly to the head, clutching and gripping the short hair hard. The loud noise thumped inside his ears, growing the already strong headache to an unbearable level. His other hand grasped his sweatshirt, trying to lessen the pain in his chest. His breathing became irregular and heavier.

"St… stop it…" voice cracked from his lips – for the first time. But it changed nothing. The noise was still there and it seemed like it was getting closer.

"Jay!"

A familiar voice.

Who's that?

He looked up at the direction, trying to open his eyes – which he never realized were grimaced shut. Maybe he was crazy, but everything was multiplied and the view became grayer. Damn it. He almost lost his balance as stumbled, then he just realized, his legs were still moving.

There – in short distance – a shady figure ran toward him, getting them closer.

Adam?

The face became clear. Ruzek was saying something but it was all fuzzy to him.

"…'t of the way, Jay! What are you doing?! Get out of there!" Ruzek sounded panic and he knew it was bad. But what is it? Why is he screaming at me?

The loud shriek came again. Fortunately, this time it was loud enough to brush off the other sounds around him including Ruzek's. He moved his head to his left. It was still hazy but he could see better now. A big black truck was running towards him and in another twelve yards, he would became a road kill.

His heart stopped as well as his mind.

The only thing he knew next was a hard knock to his body before he felt like flying backward and all the blackness took place.

…

Ruzek groaned as he pushed himself up as fast as he could, avoiding his body from crushing Jay's and worsening the injuries even more – if he had any.

"Jay?"

His friend didn't move – at all.

"11-41. Roll an ambo to 89 and Ashland. This is Officer Ruzek. Attention to all patrols. I found Detective Jay Halstead." He radioed in.

With a wobbly hand, he checked for pulse - which was weak but at least he was alive - and any broken bones so when he found none, he exhaled a shaky breath – emotionally. Tears started to well up as he went closer, holding his unconscious friend in a hug. His favorite shirt was going to be stained with blood but he didn't care anymore.

"I've got you…" Sighing in relief, he mumbled.

"I've got you."

TBC

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