With a shuddering breath, Hayley shot up out of bed. Her eyes searched the room desperately and she ran a hand through her hair, sucking in a sharp breath as she realized where she was.
"You're in Las Vegas. You're in your apartment. Take a deep breath. You're okay," she reminded herself. The sun was still up so that means it was probably around four or five. Stretching, she slipped out of bed and checked the time. Four thirty, perfect. That gave her time to eat, go to church, workout, shower, and get to work in time.
Sighing, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and got dressed, packing her gym and work bags. At least she got to sleep in a bit today. The last few weeks, she had been waking up earlier and earlier still trying to get used to the night shift.
And the nightmares.
Hayley grabbed her Bible off the nightstand and pursed her lips, staring at it blankly for a moment before shoving it into her purse. She grew up in a religious household and when she grew older, she discovered that basically everything her family taught her was their messed up view of religion. Recently, she had been trying to rediscover it and there was no place better to do so than in Sin City, she jokingly thought.
The sermon was short, luckily, and she soon found herself in the LVPD gym, her Sunday best changed out for some baggy shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes. She started to do rounds on the punching bags, sweat dripping down her face as she pounded out her feelings. The nightmares weren't getting worse, but they weren't getting better either.
As she slammed her fists into the bag, the memories started to flood in. It had been that night. She could still feel the rough fibers of the rope sliding over her hands. Letting out a grunt of frustration, she rammed one last punch out and then let her arms fall to her sides, sweat rolling down her forehead.
"Hey, McDonagh, right?" someone called and she whipped around, her heart pounding in her chest and fists raised. The tall man lifted his hands in defense and she chuckled grimly, dropping her fists and letting her shoulders relax.
"Sorry Mr. Brown, you scared me," she apologized, starting to pull off her gloves.
"It's cool. I kinda snuck up on you there. Call me Warrick or Rick if you want."
"I will if you call me Hayley."
"Deal. I was just checking on you because I was over at the weights and it seemed like you had a personal vendetta against the bag. I mean, I ain't gonna stop you if you wanna take him out. I can even help."
She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Sorry, it's just a force of habit I learned from my CO. Take your aggression out on the bag and you won't take it out on the field."
"CO? Are you military?"
"Army. 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 1st Cavalry Division," she admitted.
"What rank are you?"
"Lieutenant McDonagh at your service."
Warrick grinned, instantly putting her at ease. She was uncomfortable talking about her military experience with some people because they always wanted to ask a million questions. Warrick seemed to understand and backed off. He was an easy going guy and she appreciated that.
"Well, I may be seeing you on shift and if you seem a little angry, I'll make sure to stay away so I don't become a punching bag," he teased.
She chuckled. "Hmmm, I don't know. After that comment, I may accidentally just take a swing and hit you."
"Alright, I gotta ask. Where is your accent from?"
"Dallas. Born and raised Texan."
"Oh no, I already have to deal with Nick. There's too much Texas in this place," he groaned causing her to laugh. Hayley dropped her gloves and wraps in her bag and zipped it up, swinging it over her shoulder as they walked out of the gym.
"I'll make sure to drop by the lab once in awhile just to bug you then," she called as he waved farewell.
"Make sure to try the coffee. It's amazing!"
Stepping into the frat house, Officer McDonagh wrinkled her nose up at the stench of beer and BO. Stepping over a pile of what she assumed was dirty shorts, she glanced around the house and the teen boys milling around the room.
"He's right upstairs...you really can't miss him," one of the other officers informed the detective.
"McDonagh, will you guard and watch for the CSI team?" the detective asked her and she nodded.
It was probably a good twenty minutes before the CSI van pulled up and Stokes and another woman climbed out with their cases. Stokes flashed her a friendly smile as they approached and Hayley nodded in greeting.
"Body is upstairs," she informed them, letting them pass before she followed.
"Can't believe I used to live in a place like this. Seems like a hundred years ago," Stokes commented and Hayley smirked, glancing around at the half naked and hungover men and the general disarray of the room.
"And here I had all this respect for you," his coworker chirped. McDonagh stepped past them as they stopped to talk to some frat brothers. She walked up, nodding at Officer Harrington and stepped into the room, her eyes falling on the victim.
Now, Hayley McDonagh has seen her fair share of dead bodies, probably more than most regular beat cops on the force. But this...this hit her hard. With a shuddering gasp, she froze, her eyes transfixed on the sight before her. Stokes and his coworker walked in at that moment, staring at the victim.
"Good God," Stokes breathed.
Her head was swimming and she couldn't breathe. The sounds drowned out and she was just stuck, staring at the dangling feet.
Oh God, Anderson. She said she was feeling sick, that's all.
Get her down. Jesus, cut her down already.
McDonagh, I'm sorry. There was nothing we could have done.
She has to sleep where a dead body hung. I feel bad for the poor girl.
"McDonagh," a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Stokes stood directly in front of her, a concerned look in his eyes. "Hey, let's step out for a second, okay?"
He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her away from the boy who was hanging and out the door, positioning her away from the door frame so she couldn't see anything.
"I'm sorry." She gasped for air, feeling her chest tighten. "I can't believe I'm freaking out like this, I'm so sorry."
"Hey, hey no. It's okay. We all have cases that get to us. It's okay if you have to remove yourself."
The pain in her chest loosened and she nodded, taking in a deep breath. One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three. Stokes watched her with those kind eyes and a small smile. She could see that he was shaken by the case too, but at least he didn't have a panic attack at a crime scene.
"Thank you, Stokes," she finally said. His smile grew and he shook his head. "Nick. Call me Nick."
"Alright Nick. I'll let you get back to the scene. Is there anything I can help with that may not have to do with the body?"
"Ask around. See if you hear anything. Make sure no one leaves."
"I can do that," she agreed and with one last smile, the two parted.
A/N: Thank you for the support so far! I'm trying to make it not so episode heavy where I'm just inserting a character into a storyline that's already present, but trying to blend the story into the character (if that makes any sense?) Anyways, we find out a little more of Hayley's background in this chapter and it's not all pleasant.
