Okay so like please don't hurt me- I swear i am trying so hard to get my other one shots out and I'm trying ten times harder to work on Extreme Ways but honestly I don't know what to do with it AND YOU PEOPLE HAVEN'T GIVEN ME IDEAS….anyway.

Here.

Prompt from anon: Could you try doing a five times and one with Jay and team? I don't care particularly how it happens, but any snippets of Jay whump with some linstead would be great!

Lindsay's P.O.V.

The first time was definitely the most awkward, but that was simply because he was new. I don't think Jules really knew what she was doing until she did it, but no one teased her afterwards, and I'm really glad, because that would have just been another thing to add to my guilty conscious.

It was a simple act really, when she yanked Halstead out of the way, but it was followed by her crouching over him, protectively guarding him while the rest of us ran up, shooting at the car or jumping on the radio or just memorizing the plate and the car. I remember it, because Jay hadn't moved, and I had ignored the twinge of fear in my gut to run up to her, helping roll him over.

In fact, I think its impossible to forget it. Wilhites scream still echoes in my nightmares sometimes. I'll hear her yelling his name, then look up to see her pull him out of the way of the speeding vehicle. Of course in the nightmare, normally he gets hit, or Jules does, but in reality, he just smacked his head against the edge of the sidewalk when he fell. A nasty bump was all Halstead walked away with, as well as a few scrapes and maybe a bruise or two.

The rest of us, however, never figured out how to shake that feeling of uneasiness and worry we got when we saw him lying unconscious on the ground. Nor did we forget the fear felt during the five minutes when he wouldn't wake up.

The second time wasn't something I was witness too. None of us were in fact. Nobody was there to see the man hit Halstead on the back of the head, and no one was there to witness Jay dragged by the feet, unconscious and barely breathing.

No one was there to stop Andy Weir from tying his hands and feet together or from pressing a strip of duct tape to his mouth. No one was there to catch him in the act of shoving Halstead into a tiny little closet. Nobody was there to keep Andy from abandoning the still alive body, from leaving Halstead for dead.

We were only there nearly a full six hours later, when we figured out where the hell he had gone.

Simple fact was, when Jay checked his phone, then got up and left, we had thought nothing of his parting words. Going to meet a C.I. wasn't anything weird or new us, and most cops understand that when meeting a confidential informant, one wouldn't normally bring along his fellow cop buddies.

A cop could also understand, that it didn't take three hours to meet up with a C.I. Most of the time, it barely took one. So as Jay stopped responding to texts, we switched to phone calls, which were also ignored. This ultimately led to Jin trying to track his phone, which hadn't worked, so we went full on investigative mode, and had to rifle through his files to try and find someone or something that would clue us into who he went to meet and possibly where.

Intelligence, for all our glory and badges, couldn't find shit. We found all his files, but nothing on who he was meeting. The only thing that told us was that it was an unscheduled meet, making it all the more suspicious.

Eventually it was Jin who had saved the day. Despite the fact that Jay's phone was most definitely untraceable, (we found it in pieces later) his cell phone carrier was able to give Sheldon his most recent texts, which included, the one detailing where he was willing to talk with Jay.

Turns out the Mr. Weir was going to tell Jay some information, however he got spooked by the surge in local gang members outside his house. Afraid that Jay was going to kill him or something (the guy was tripping balls when we caught him, so paranoia was definitely a possibility), Andy had panicked and, well, not many people stand a chance against a field hockey stick to the back of the skull.

He's lucky the blow didn't kill him, considering where it hit. Not that we thought he wasn't dead, I mean, when I stood there gripping Antonio's wrist as they pulled him out, I was ninety percent sure he was.

It was really interesting, to see Alvin and Ruzek tug Jay's unconscious form out of the closet. Even more interesting to know that Antonio did nothing as I cut off the circulation to his hand, instead staring at his friends limp form, just as frozen in place as I was.

Even when Adam tugged the tape of my partner's lips, and Jay gave the tiniest of coughs, eyes fluttering momentarily before opening a fraction of the way to gaze blankly as the rest of us, no one was able to breath a sigh of relief. The head wound was bad, Jay wasn't talking and there was minimal air flow in the closet he was stuck in for a quarter of a day.

In fact no one breathed a sigh of relief until the doctor at Lakeshore had told us he'd be okay with a couple days rest. Then and only then did we relax back into our normal selves. Only then was I able to shove my emotions back into their box, and walk into his hospital room, just the normal Erin Lindsay who was mildly annoyed at having to deal not having partner for the rest of the week. And did he know how much paperwork he caused me? Clearly not.

It was easier then, for all of us, to ignore how frantic we had been as we searched for him, how terrified we all were, deep down, of losing another member of the team, of losing him.

It was less easy the third time.

In his defense, Jay is a good swimmer. He isn't afraid of water, and while this incident may have made him wearier of being underwater too long, he has never been afraid of a pool or a lake or an ocean, and he never will.

Also in his defense, the tackle was on point. The jackass coke dealer just got in a lucky blow, and next thing I knew, Adams was diving in the pool while Voight cuffed slammed a fist into the perps face and cuffed him rather harshly.

He was soon abandoned, at least by me, as Ruzek resurfaced with a limp Jay, and did some weird one armed stroke to the edge of the pool. Antonio and Alvin grabbed him under his shoulders and dragged him onto the pebbled floor, while I helped Adam get up besides him.

It was images like that, pictures ingrained in my mind, that are the reason he will wake to me staring at his sleeping face, the reason he will catch me holding him in a hug just a second too long.

I held his limp hand as Antonio curled one hand over the other and started pressing on his chest in practiced measured compressions. I had stared at his lax, pallid face, with his dark hair plastered to it, making it look pitch black in contrast to the unnatural color of his skin. It made his slightly blue lips look like a grotesque work of art, blue and near purple blending together as the color had leached out of them.

I was the one who pressed my mouth to his, our first kiss technically not even real, as he wasn't alive to experience it. I blew air into his lungs, then leaned back and prayed, to whatever higher being would listen to me, that he should breath again on his own and wake up and be perfectly okay after doing so.

I prayed, I begged that Voight was wrong when he put a hand on Dawson's shoulder and told him that Jay was gone, and it's been fifteen minutes, he's not coming back Tony, he's gone.

I can still recall how the air seemed to drop to below freezing in the heated pool area. I can still elicit the quiet moan of pain that came from Adam as he fell to his knees next to his friend, hands hovering over Halstead's shoulder afraid to touch him as that would confirm how Jay's really dead. I remember how it felt like everything was falling apart, was slipping through our fingers, even as Dawson continued CPR.

It was like Jay was something precious, something fragile and careful and rare, and by some stroke of fate he was entrusted into our care, placed in our dirty, scarred hands. We couldn't just let that slip away.

Perhaps that same stroke of fate also brought his back, but after exactly nineteen minutes of chest compressions and aided breathing, Jay twisted in on himself, and coughed out the water in his lungs.

Sometimes, in the shower, I used to feel nostalgic for when I was a kid. The few times I had warm running water, I used to open my mouth to collect the large droplets, then would amuse myself by seeing how many different ways I could spit it out. I thought that would be what it felt like to drown, except you when you pushed the water out of your mouth, more water would fill it instead of air.

I suppose I didn't get the concept of what drowning really was. But then I didn't need to. After that day, I simply knew, even if he wasn't afraid of it, I would never get back into a body of water by myself. Jay still doesn't understand why that terrified us, why we all congregated quietly in his hospital room, silent and brooding in the shadows. Why afterwards he was fought over by the guys on who got to take care of his for the next couple days.

The concussion meant he couldn't be alone, but while he seemed embarrassed and annoyed, I knew he didn't want to be by himself. I also knew he wanted to be at my place, but at that point I was desperately trying to convince myself I didn't like him, so staying away from him would be the best course of action.

Mind you, staying away from him was how number four happened.

Nadia was gone and I was terrified that if I stayed next to Alvin or Voight or him for longer than a second, then they would disappear just like she had. Unfortunately, after Jay was kidnapped, me staying away from him clearly didn't matter, so I might as well be there to have his back.

That also, seemed to just not matter.

The building was not a tall one, nor was it especially homey, but it had multiple floors and was rather open, borderline on bare. The most recent owners, a small business firm that had gone bankrupt, had given the space over to the bank, whom had just left it sitting, not even a forsale sign. The west side chapter of the Green Dragons had moved in, and it was on the raid of that meth lab that had sent everything into a rather unforgiving tail spin. At least, for everyone else.

As I recall, I was already neck deep in suppressed feelings for Jay, so it came of no shock to me, the worry or the fear (terror really) that came from watching Halstead get shot. A shotgun blast to the chest is no fun, a fact of which I must assume is true, because it has yet to happen to me.

It did happen to him though, while I was on the other side of the room, cuffing a suspect. Most of the perps had surrendered and/or been disarmed and apprehended, although Ruzek still had his gun raised to cover me incase of any surprise men. Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side of the room, but still fired the shot that killed Jay's attacker.

Halstead had literally flown backwards, landing with a hard smack against the tile floor. Alvin and Antonio were on him at once, Atwater calling for an ambulance while me and Ruzek were forced to finish restraining the remaining offenders.

I don't know the whole story of what happened over there, but through the small bits of information I've gathered, Jay's mind was flashing to place he didn't want to be, and the whole 'I can't fucking breathe' thing really wasn't helping. In fact Jay was literally hyperventilating and unresponsive, despite his consciousness.

I guess Alvin brought him back some how, some correct order of words or a seemingly meaningless phrase that was spoken and pulled him back to reality, where he could calm down and try to take semi-relaxed breathes.

Meanwhile, I was dragging perps up against the wall, ordering uni's around, and trying to keep Adam and Atwater focused on the task, as both their gazes and attention kept pulling them both back over towards Halstead.

If I do bethink, I ended up swearing at them rather nastily at one point, saying that if I couldn't be over there, neither could they...with some colorful adjectives in between. I mean he was okay, but I ended up holding him tighter than necessary that night, desperate to reassure myself he was okay, although I'm pretty sure I was causing him quiet the discomfort.

The last incident I know of, is one he will never remember. Partially because he was barely awake for it, and partially because it was such a small thing for him, there wasn't even time for his brain to process what was happening.

It was a really rough case, we had pulled an all nighter, only to go home for less than three hours of shut eye before another call came in, with another body. Of course Jay and Mouse hadn't actually gone home, so it was no surprise to anyone to find Halstead zonked out on Mouse's shoulder, the tech wiz only smiling slightly before putting a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

Everyone had complied, too tired to make any fun. Instead we watched, half amused as Mouse peeled his friend off of him and settled him back into his own chair.

I do believe, that had the gun not gone off, Jay would have been fine and no one would have found out about his nightmares. But a gun did get fired, just outside the precinct, and the sound seemed to rock the whole building, startling everyone to a degree, but not so much as Jay. The shot rang out, just as we were walking by the Mouse's station. Oh and by we, I mean me, Voight and Alvin. Everyone else was already out of area, either at the crime scene or chasing another lead.

I was about to poke Jay and run when the crack echoed outside, snapping some instinct of his into action. His hand shot out, a fist connecting with my jaw that sent me backwards, though it only grazed it really. Olinski was instantly there as Jay freaked, attempting to move but not realizing he was in a chair, so he more of just violently fell out of his seat. Voight grabbed Jay around the waist and he tried to stand and run out, and O, in what looked like a semi practiced maneuver, grabbed jay around the back, like a hug of sorts.

Together they brought my partner to the ground, where I noticed his eyes still closed. He never really woke up, although, his eyes did flutter for a moment or two before succumbing to exhaustion, a sleep aided by Alvin's soothing litany of words whispered in his ear. Mouse walked into Voight's hand on my arm, my hand on my slightly bruising face, and his best friend sprawled out on the floor, head laying propped up on Olinski thigh.

We never mentioned the incident, and I don't think we ever will. Solely because it would do fifty times more harm to Jay's mental state, than it could ever do good.

It was a rough case.

It was tricky, trying to convince everyone that just as Jay needed protected, so did they. Because just like we have established we can't lose him, he can not lose any of us.

But nobody understood that. At least, not until the Huderson case.

The FBI had been called in to assist, and because I was jealous of Jay's good natured relationship with a female officer, I had no problem letting him go off with her to check out another lead, while the rest of his team went to a much more promising venture.

One that almost got all of us killed.

They took up by surprise. We split up to clear the warehouse, just like we always do. They put guns to the back of both my and Antonio's heads, took our weapons and zip tied our hands. Ruzek and Alvin soon joined up, roughly shoved against the wall as Voight and Atwater were dragged in next to us. We all sat, completely vulnerable as the very gang leader we were sent to catch walked around us, monologuing his anger, his men pointing semi autos and pistols at our heads.

He lined us up, asked rhetorical questions, taunted us. Finally he 'searched' me, grabbing my phone among other things. He pistol whipped Voight who snapped at him to stay away from me, and sent a sharp punch into Ruzek's stomach after he protested the treatment.

It was when he asked if I wanted to call my boyfriend to say goodbye, did chaos really start.

I don't remember a lot of it, I had my eyes closed half the time, but I know what I heard. Jay and his FBI friend (who actually served with him) destroyed them. According to Adam, it was like watching a rabid dog be unleashed on a petrified rabbit. The men didn't stand a chance as Jay pounced, punched, kicked and snapped, breaking and tearing and shooting.

Doing everything but showing mercy.

At the end of it, when I reopened my eyes to the feeling of hands brushing my skin, he was standing there, crouched over the body of the guy who felt me up, chest heaving in time with his blazing eyes, rage evident on every cell of his body. It was Agent Kennedy behind me, cutting my ties, then doing the same to the others.

Once free I rushed up to him, stopping only mere inches from his form to allow him to see my perfectly okay face.

"I'm okay." I had whispered, before pulling him into a hug before I could watch the rage go to fear.

"We're okay."

And we are. A dysfunctional, hard skinned family with anger issues. But we are still family.

Even if it took us longer than we'd like to admit to realize that.

Well? What'd you think?

*I apologize for any grammatical errors*