Chapter 24- A Continuation of Transformation
Greetings, everyone! I'm so glad to be back and beyond delighted that you guys liked the previous chapter. With it being a billion words long I really didn't think anyone would read till the very end. But as you always do, you guys surprised me with your very sweet comments and I'm forever thankful. Before the fall finale I was watching one of several interviews that Jesse so graciously gave us. I can't recall the exact wording of the question but his response truly inspired this chapter. He was asked what was going to happen after the fall finale cliffhanger and his response was that no matter the outcome—dead or alive—that this event would change Jay. Perhaps he meant that in a joking or serious way, or a mixture of both, but that has resonated with me for several weeks now. What would a serious life or death situation look like immediately afterward? Obviously we hope to see positive physical results, but it's that long term, internal effect of things that I think get overshadowed a lot of the time. Unfortunately, television doesn't usually allow for things of this nature to be explored. In one episode you see the hero character nearly die and survive only the next week to see them running down suspects and fit as a fiddle. Thus the reason I love this facet of things. This platform where we can explore those deep, dark, nitty and gritty aspects of surviving things. So when a few very sweet readers reached out to me, asking for a continuation of this story, I knew I had to do it and was beyond delighted to take up the task. I hope I do you, and Jesse, proud.
MaryIs901112: "What I really want to read next would be Jay's physical recovery, see him in rehab, frustrated because he does not improve as fast as he would like."
Britt: "Your capture said "To Be Continued.," and I really hope you will."
Muumilapsi: "I absolutely love this! Could you please write a part 2? Maybe about his recovery journey?"
So this chapter will be designed very differently from the rest of the chapters. There will be three acts, each stand alone snippets of Jay's recovery process. They will be marked and hopefully all falling under the same theme. Here we go, everyone!
An Ever Moving Target
Guilt has this funny way of ruining things. It's a multifaceted, million definition word that effects everyone so very differently. The tentacles of guilt are ever reaching and suck the life out of its' prey. One could be on the highest of highs, having accomplished something truly stupendous and honorable and yet, as one stands on the podium to accept the award that little tentacle tickles your ear, reminding one of how unworthy they are or what questionable action they might have taken to reach this moment. This prickly little monster can also convince you that something not of one's doing is in fact your fault. Victims of heinous crimes often report times of guilt, moments where in some way what happened was of their own doing. Guild is debilitating. Guilt is blinding. Guilt hinders people from living a life of freedom and happiness. Guilt can play a crucial role in one's physical health. In those early days after Jay awoke from the dead, per se, this demon of a best plagued him. Angela may have shot him and nearly ended his life, but in those initial days he couldn't help but see how he turned the gun on himself; pointed it at his own chest and pulled the trigger. Furthermore he didn't understand why he survived. The act justified what he did to her, to Marcus, to the entire West family. He made the mistake, lied to her and ruined her life. He had every right to suffer the consequences of his kindhearted yet ill laid plans. So to wake up, to breathe seemed to be unfair, unworthy on his part.
What he remembers the most about that day, exactly one week after the shooting, was how heavy the weight of the guilt was on his chest. He vividly recalls awakening that morning with the sense that a skyscraper was resting on his thin and fragile chest. Every inhale was too much to bear and each exhale was met with labored grunts of pain. Jay chalked it up to his internal struggle with the aftermath, but in actuality it was the body suffering the toll that comes with fighting. It was still dark out when the first sign of trouble made its' way to the sound waves of everything that was detecting and documenting his condition.
"Jay," Will ever calmly called out. The two of them were resting, storing up energy for whatever the day had in store for them. Correction: Will was sound asleep, Jay was floating between full blown alertness and those early stages of sleep. It was the oxygen monitor over Jay's head quietly chiming that roused the redheaded one from his slumber, looking to his right to see his brother's eyes wide open and nothing behind them. He was struggling in all intents and purposes.
"Is it tight," he normally asked, putting his palm in front of Jay's nose to feel just how much air was coming out.
"Uh huh," Jay puffed out after a moment of struggle. Those collection of syllables being a sample of the vocabulary he'd been using since waking up. Those outside of the Halstead clan assumed Jay's lack of speaking to be a result of his condition. Even a week after the event he was still critically low on blood, was still suffering from the occasional blood clot, and was succumbing to the pain that comes with open heart surgery. But Will knew his brother all too well to fully believe this to be the case. Certainly when others came calling he put on the work facade; smiling and mumbling through things to convince everyone that he was the same old guy. But it was in those moments of between that the guard came down just a hair. Will could see it in the eyes, the internal battle was waging havoc and deceitful lies within. Will was the first, everyone else soon followed.
By last night Hailey pulled Will aside after Jay had fallen back to sleep, practically threatened him to tell her what truly was going on. Will spilled his assumptions, eventually sharing that the best thing for Jay was some time alone. As much as everyone wanted to help, Jay was the last person to accept that without asking. It was up to Jay to make the calls, feel in control of something that was strangling him. So against everyone's desire they promised to keep their distance, provide Jay with that space to breathe he so desperately needed. Pun was totally not intended. Oddly enough Jay wasn't surprised when he awoke in the early hours of this morning to find Hailey missing. If anything he was relieved, finding peace in the knowledge that he could let things down for a time. But more on this later, because by now the medical team was in the room, courtesy of Will's concerned glare to them from across the way.
"Stats are in the 80s," he declared as they all filed in. With sleeping people all around there wasn't more they wanted to do then whisper. Any form to treatment would require moving Jay to another location.
"Okay, that's not great but it's not terrible."
"Did it just now start getting tight, Jay," Marcel asked? A half nod came from the motionless person in the bed. There is this feeling, sensation doctors get about patients recovering from major trauma. There isn't a name for it, but everyone knows what it is. While every medication and device can be used to save a patient on their behalf, once a patient returns to the world it truly is their call on whether they live or die. Some really do try and it is easy to see those efforts. Others give a halfhearted try for themselves, for others before concluding that the fight is too much, eventually allowing the injuries to win over. There are physical and intangible cues that give hint to a patient's will to live or give up. On this particular day Marcel couldn't avoid the notion that Jay was that darker second option. That for the moment he was doing things for Will, his team, everyone but himself. The lack of speaking or desire to see and hear things heavily swaying in that direction. Every morning he prayed the day wasn't going to be that day. This morning feeling like it wasn't going to obey that request.
"What's his steroid dosage?"
"15mg every three hours." Will rolled his eyes back in fear.
"We can't give him anymore for fear of.."
"-Inducing heart problems. I know." Will looked over to Marcel who shrugged his shoulders and nodded. That thing Will didn't want to have happen was kicking off and there wasn't much that could stop it.
"Can we do a scan first before deciding things?" Marcel looked down at the iPad with Jay's chart before making the call. From a medication standpoint Jay was maxed out. He was on the highest legal doses of the strongest medication out there. It was time to intervene. If a scan helped Will get to that point, then so be it.
"Yeah, we'll do a CT of the lungs and then an echo of the heart. MRI is out of the question for right now."
"Fine." In no time things were moving. The world of the ICU floor was dimmed and silent. With Jay in his current state of immobility there wasn't much for him to do other then stare straight up. He saw the ceiling shift from drop tile to straight tile and florescent lighting. There were quick intervals between light and dark, making him ever squint and relax before starting the process all over again. People's heads bobbed close before going away. Other rooms' layouts meeting the ceiling at various points. He heard the doors chime open and felt the elevator doors slide open and the gap between car and floor jostle him a tad too much for his liking. People were talking, noise was going on all over, but he couldn't comprehend any of it. Chalk it up to the drugs and tiredness, but deep down Jay knew it was the guilt. It's voice tickling his ears that he didn't deserve to see people, was wasting time, money, and drastic measures to keep a life wrecker alive on this earth. Only's Will hand in his own could make things stop for a time. The gentle and reassuring squeeze from Will doing enough to stave things off for a time. Without moving Jay would squeeze back for a split second. He knew what his brother meant but couldn't say: I'm here and do not give up. Jay's weak response confirmed for Will the very thing he feared: I'm trying.
…
"Ok. They need to slide you over to the scanner and this will probably be uncomfortable. You with us, Jay?" Here was another odd thing about Jay since waking up: he hated people touching him. For reasons unbeknownst to them at the time he despised having strangers touch him. Early on it was a flinch, but by the end of day one of waking up he'd point to Will, stressing through mumblings that he wanted him to do things. So every catheter change, every check in and transfusion Will either had to do it or be right there when things went down. It was a pride thing, in a way. Jay hated having people, strangers see him in his current state. Will got what was happening. Jay knew he wouldn't judge or treat him in that sing-songy manner. Certainly they were breaking hospital regulations, but what else could they do? So now, as they pushed the hospital bed right next to the CT scanner's table, Will was right there to assist in the transfer. Jay didn't look away from Will as he felt himself be lifted off one flat surface and gently be placed on another. Will was correct that things were uncomfortable, the long eye blink told the world what was going on inside.
"Sorry, it should go away in a second. You just had a round of meds so you should be okay." Jay nodded, slipping his hand out of Will grasp as the radiologist told him to not move. In all honesty Jay wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. His chest was beyond sore, its' pain radiating to every corner of the body. On top of that air wasn't coming in. Whatever ounce of strength he had was utilized on doing the most simple of tasks. The world disappeared as he was slid into the machine, the cramped space of things comforting oddly enough. Jay closed his eyes as the machine rattled and clicked every so often. Each click his brain would blurt out another message from his past. As clear as day he could hear Marcus plead his innocence, beg Jay to listen before putting him in that place. Another click and he was in Med, standing over Marcus' unconscious body in a hospital bed. The guilt of knowing he put him there doing wonders for his psyche. The CT scanner clicked once again, putting him at that initial meeting with Angela. He was so stupid in his ways, ridiculous to think things would end well. Another snap, another painful reminder of who put him in this place at this very moment in time.
…
"Will, we can do this all day long and run every test in the book. It's not going to change the end result. It's not the end of the world." Will paced back and forth, knowing Marcel was right but hating that they were here once again. The one week anniversary ringing loud in his ears as he contemplated things. It wasn't surgery, but wasn't a great move either.
"You realize that if he goes back on.."
"-The chances of an infection go up that much more. Yes, Will, I went to med school too." Will stood in his place dumbfounded over the bluntness of the reply. But in the long run it was the very thing he needed, a swift reminder that smart, informed people were working to help his brother.
"He needs air, now. He needs a break, now. We can call in Rhodes but I don't see any reason for it." Will nodded, looking towards Jay's feet sticking out the end of the machine.
"How long would he be on it?"
"At least two days."
"And he'll be awake?"
"We can start with that. But if it becomes too awful for him we can always sedate." Will thought, paced, and groaned for a moment before coming to the conclusion he knew was right there. This was a setback. Jay's recovery wasn't going to be a straight line to normalcy. This was life for the foreseeable future: struggle. He helped him this far, there was no way he wasn't going to let up now.
"Alright, let's do it."
…
Jay was returned to the room in no time, tiredness allowing him to miss the journey back home. When he awoke things were happening all around. The machine that was keeping him alive a few days ago was back in its' place, Will talking to Marcel while nurses threw trays down on other trays. Even in his limited mental state Jay quickly figured what was coming next, a bit perturbed that no one seemed to ask for his input. A nurse noticed he was awake, giving one of those overly happy, way too eager greetings that he'd come to deeply hate. Her elevated voice turned everyone's attention to Jay that much more, which made him hate everything. Marcel whispered to Will who nodded before the room cleared. Jay rolled his eyes, groaned as Will took a seat on the bed.
"Will," Jay panted out. Will was floored. It was the first time Jay called him by name in over a week. For a brief moment he thought he'd never hear his own name ever again. Prior to this it was 'hey' or 'um,' so for Jay to call him by name said all he needed to know. Jay was scared.
"Sorry, man. They've gotta do it. You're not getting enough air and you need the assistance." Will waited for a response, getting a blank stare in return. Ah, there was the deadness, the darkness in the eyes. The war was at category five by now, Will swore he could see the turmoil bouncing between pupils. Sure, his brother was physically alive on this earth, but his true self was still trying to find its' way back. Will wanted nothing more then to reach down and pull him to safety, but true healing and control had to come from Jay's efforts. Will prayed he figured things out before it was too late.
"Okay." Will wanted to cry over Jay's willingness to cave to things. His brother would've fought things, begged for another option. But this version of Jay Halstead, his quickness in surrendering scared Will, had him thinking he made a mistake that day. He didn't know this person in front of him.
"I love you, Jay," he allowed to spill out. Jay replied with a mild cough, closed eyes over how much that hurt. Marcel interrupted the moment by now, lowered the bed and removing the pillow under his head as he explained things to Jay.
"You're going to fall asleep in a couple seconds. When you wake up you'll have a tube in your throat and you can't speak. We'll give you a paralytic so your throat doesn't tightened around the tube but if you can't handle it we can always knock you out." Jay nodded his understanding of things, not caring in the least. For half a second he wanted everyone and everything to stop. He wasn't worth it. The guilt far outweighing living. But of course he kept this to himself, shook off those dangerous thoughts.
"I'm right here and I'll be here when you wake up." Jay blinked, felt the drugs get pushed into his system, and he drifted off into the peaceful slumber.
"I'm sorry," he muttered as the sedative gripped him tight. Sure enough he awoke to that all too familiar pain he felt not so long ago. He swallowed and regretted it moments later. The hyperventilating over things doing a number on the sore sternum, rib cage, muscles, skin that were letting Jay know they hated being moved in that way. Will wiped away the tears and explained that he knew things were painful, to which Jay wanted to retort that Will had no clue how awful this all was. But alas, all he could do was blink and focus on never putting himself through that again.
Sleep Can Be A Real Pill Sometimes
"Hey, thanks for coming."
"Yeah, of course," she replied as she stepped over the threshold of the apartment. The whole place felt weird, off in a way. Everything was in its' proper place and beyond the usual level of clean, but something was off about the place. Perhaps it was the eerie silence to everything, Will's whispering against pin drop stillness creating this funeral home ambience. The other possibility was that Jay was here, residing somewhere in this horribly decorated, crammed place; which was weird considering it was his apartment. Whether they all realized it or not, they'd grown accustomed to Jay being in the hospital. The logistics of visitation and food delivery were seamless, as if Jay had taken up a permanent residency in that floor of the building. So to know that Jay wasn't in hospital attire, attached to a million things, and operating on the schedule put in place by doctors and nurses was a little strange in a way. He'd been granted the opportunity and ability to be human again and that was going to take some time to readjust to. Another very interesting and heartbreaking discovery of the human psyche: we all can become accustomed to the most intervening situation out there.
"So, what's going on," Hailey spoke as she worked her way to the couch, Will shushing her as she sat. Her face scrunched, Will's persistent poking towards the bedroom helping answer the question mark in her mind.
"I'm trying to get him to sleep." Hailey let a small burp of a giggle slip out. To the ill-informed audience you'd think Will was referring to a newborn child, not a full grown adult recovering from a traumatic experience.
"He's not sleeping. Since being home he's maybe gotten an hour or two of sleep each day." Hailey's eyes went wide, all air suddenly stopping itself from going in or out.
"Will, it's been a week."
"Yeah, I know."
"Could it be from the whole changing of scenery?"
"Maybe, it's not uncommon to actually get used to the sleep pattern in the hospital and then be unable to adjust to a normal awake/asleep pattern. But with him I think it's more." Hailey let out a sigh, she figured this was coming but not so soon after everything. It was the fear that rolled in after he woke up, not knowing when the internal aspect of things would kick in. By all accounts that was well ahead of schedule.
"The PTSD." Will reluctantly nodded.
"The first hint was that he wanted me to sleep next to him in bed, which is something he's never asked ever. Even during other episodes when things weren't being treated. He typically wants to be alone, so that request was really different for him. That was after two days of just laying in bed and staring into nothing all night long. So when we tried that that's when the couple hours of sleep finally happened. But it's not restful sleep. It's a lot of talking in his sleep and sharp breathing, usually waking up with a jolt or sweating. And of course none of this is good for his overall health. He needs sleep."
"So, I'm not sure what I'm doing here."
"I've talked with Dr. Charles and were going to put him on a sleep aid and an antidepressant, which I know Jay's not going to like. After the last episode he was put on those for awhile and absolutely hated it. Said it made him feel hollow and small?! I don't know. But he's got to rest and we've tried everything else. I've got to go run out and pick up the stuff and I hate for him to be alone."
"So I'm a babysitter essentially."
"Just try talking to him. I think if he talked to a friend he might open up a little bit. The last month its' been doctors speaking to him in numbers and strange lettering, a friend will do a lot for him." Will's phone buzzed on the coffee table, acting as a perfect interruption for the retelling of Jay's tragic and troubling time. He promised to be back within the hour as Hailey stood from her place on the couch, not moving till she heard the front door lock behind Will. For a brief moment she was scared, apprehensive to see Jay. They'd all been naive that day he woke up, thinking he'd be down for a time but return to his old ways. Certainly the latter could reign true, but in the meantime he was different, almost having become a stranger to his very core of people. This was the unsuspecting element none of them picked up that day and in all honesty Hailey felt to be an idiot, moron for not weighing all the elements of healing. She closed her eyes as she placed a hand on the door handle, inhaling as she turned the knob and exhaling at the scene in front of her.
He was propped up by what appeared to be every pillow in his apartment. Donning a button down shirt, joggers, and socks, he was the picture of a lounging bum. His back of his head was buried deep in a pillow, cushioning the still healing skull fracture and concussed brain, and his head was tilted to the left. The amount of scruff on his face told the tale of not shaving for a few days and the mop on the top of his head said that showering hadn't been attempted in a little bit. The left eye was a tinge of yellow, the very last shade in the bruising process, the rest of his face small lines of red where cuts and suturing happened over a month ago. Yes, you read that correctly. It had been a month since the attack and Jay was just now home. Guilt really puts a wrench into things. Hailey stood there for a second, just taking everything in and watching him fake sleep. This one wasn't going to be a good day, the energy coming off of him told that. The day he stood and walked a few steps was a good day, a high note of the journey. Clear as the scene in front of her, Hailey could still see Jay resting against the IV stand as he grinned that dorky smile as everyone poured out tears of excitement. His face was beet red through the whole process, but he was beyond proud of himself that day. The memory faded when Hailey spotted the gauze pad taped down the middle of his chest, the friendly reminder of how the bottom fell out the next day. That day was the second worst day of their lives, its' menacing surprise terrible for following up such a momentous occasion. Hailey shook her head, telling herself for the billionth time Jay had made it through and was home.
"You're a terrible fake sleeper," she spoke into the room. The not-so-passed out one cracked a single eye open, tensing as he realized who it was.
"Hey," he trailed off, glancing around and behind her for Will.
"He went to get meds. It's just me. Sorry." There was this weird invisible wall between them, Hailey had picked up on it pretty immediately in the hospital. At first it was subtle, looking almost at her and then answering with quick responses. She thought it was just the situation of everything, but before long he would refuse to look at her, answer a question every now and then. She didn't know if he was embarrassed, disappointed, scared, or worse. But as she took that first step into the room she felt the wall shoot right up. It was almost like meeting someone for the first time, those awkward silences when you run out of things to say but feel the need to keep trying.
"Do you need another pillow," she joked? Jay glanced at her for a moment, smirking when he figured out the joke.
"It's Will."
"I figured." Hailey smiled, looking over at the nightstand and glancing at the sea of medicine bottles.
"Baby steps," she whispered to herself. What was once IV drugs was now in pill form, and from pill form would eventually be nothing.
"What," Jay questioned, reminding her that she had thought out loud.
"Oh, nothing," she quickly shot back, eyes resting on the glasses closest to the bed.
"I haven't seen these yet." She held them up, opening them and advancing towards his face.
"Sure," he replied as she rested them on his nose and ears, taking a step back to observe the new look. It wasn't anything she was accustomed to, but the jerk somehow managed to make glasses attractive. He looked like a hot, geeky professor or grad student and she hated that. There was very little he couldn't pull off.
"Well, keep this look up and it just might become the next undercover gig. You could be the young professor all the girls chase around campus." That one earned her a chuckle, protesting and denial right behind it.
"Stop, there's no way that's happening."
"You say that now," she responded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Now at a closer position she could really see the brunt of things. The arms with several band aids covering where IVs used to be, the series of hospital bands from his many trips to different parts of the hospital, but the new set of coverings on his chest still doing the most for her. Jay seemed to pick up on the glaring and scanning fairly quick, clearing his throat and shifting his feet in bed.
"Sorry," she embarrassingly replied. Jay nodded, none of this was comfortable for either of them.
"I hear sleep isn't happening right now."
"What didn't Will tell you," he responded through a huff.
"I don't know, what didn't he tell me?"
"Oh, nice try." She smiled, gently patting his shoulder before rising, heading for the bathroom as she spoke.
"When I was younger my mom would always tell me to redo my pre-sleep ritual. That making yourself brush your teeth, wash your face, stuff like that, your body gets in that sleep mentality." Hailey grabbed a washcloth and got it wet, putting face wash on it before returning to the bedroom.
"Did it ever work," Jay inquired as she stood over him.
"No, but doesn't mean we shouldn't try." Hailey motioned to the dripping wet towel and Jay obliged, scrunching his face as she reached every crevice of his face. She was wary of the areas that were still healing, gently patting things off before going back for the toothbrush.
"This is humiliating," he replied over the toothbrush, Hailey giggling at the slurred nature of the sentence.
"Oh stop, you can't do this on your own anyway." Jay nodded in agreement, spitting into the cup she placed under his mouth. Next was the hairbrush which he really wanted to protest, but let her do it. It's amazing what a lack of sleep and injury will do to you.
"Feeling the least bit sleepy?" Hailey was now on the free side of the bed, lying flat and looking up at Jay.
"No." This was a fun game, making her find weird ways to do what only drugs were going to resolve now. He knew whatever she tried would fail, but the fun of it was watching her brainstorm, the two of them bonding over his inability to shut off.
"Okay…what about drinking something. Water? Coke? Juice?"
"Water." Hailey sprung to her feet, a mixture between shuffling and speed walking to the kitchen. She returned moments later with the largest cup he owned just about filled to the brim with ice water.
"Look! A straw so you can drink yourself."
"Great!" Jay was still put off by the fact he couldn't do any for himself, but her enthusiasm in finding something for him lessened the blow. She cradled the cup in his hands, constantly asking if Jay was alright before releasing things to him. She sat at the end of the bed as he sipped, the two of them rolling their eyes and scoffing over how excited the two of them were for this very mundane task. Before long Jay asked her to put things on the bedside table and she obeyed, collapsing once again on the free side of the bed. She could still feel that wall between the two of them, but a window was being etched out somewhere near the top. It was the size of a peanut but Hailey was elated. Things were headed in the right direction.
"It's not working," he spoke a few minutes later. Hailey sighed, rolling to her side and resting her head on her hand.
"I think you know the only other option." Jay moaned, the head digging just a little deeper into the pillows.
"Can't we just talk about work or the weather?"
"Next time. And also you're not even supposed to be mentioning the W word, remember?"
"There's going to be a next time?" Hailey lovingly slapped his arm, rolling her eyes before speaking.
"Let's go, dude. It's just me. Okay?! I'm not a doctor or a nurse,"
"-Or Will."
"Exactly. Jay, it's all understandable. In the last month you've had two major heart surgeries, been intubated several times, and been stuck in a hospital the entire time. No one is condemning you in fact, I think they're praising you for still sticking around."
"It's not the surgeries, or any of that," Jay mumbled.
"That stuff just happens. You get through it and wake up on the other side and start getting better."
"So it's the guilt." Jay snapped his head towards her, shocked she got things that quickly.
"I know you think you're this big, mysterious person who's impossible to fully understand. But after a couple years of this you're not that complicated. And knowing you I know you won't believe the next words to come out of my mouth. You being shot was not your fault at all."
"I know it's not." Hailey's eyebrows perked up. This was a first for Jay.
"It's everything that came before it." Hailey sighed, sitting up and taking Jay's left hand. She really wanting him to hear what she was about to say. Lord only know how many rotations of that case had spun around in his head.
"Jay, not that we should be throwing blame around at anyone, but do you recall who told you to use the facial rec software? Do you also remember that things weren't exactly ready for actual use? In what way does that equal you being responsible?"
"Because I ran with it."
"After being told you had to. Jay, you did the best you could with what you had. Not everyone is going to be perfect. What happened to Marcus was not ideal, terrible. But that is not your fault."
"And Angela? That all was my fault. Against everyone saying I needed to leave things alone I kept going. And now because of that a child is going to live the rest of his life without either parent, stuck in the foster system and who knows what else. And I get what, a few weeks off of work and then go about living life?"
"Jay, her choosing to shoot you is not some twisted form of punishment that the world had coming for you. Whatever was said or happened before that moment, her pulling the trigger was her decision. You need to understand that. Also, for the record, I forgive you. We all forgive you. Yes, we told you to stop and you kept going. But that's you at your core. You have a good heart, pure intentions. Sometimes things work out and other times they don't but you were trying to help, there's nothing wrong with that. We all forgive you. You need to forgive yourself." She looked back up at him, internally sighing over the lifelessness about him. Everything she was saying was going in one ear and going right out the other.
"You need to promise me something?"
"What?"
"First, you're going to take the meds. I don't care if you don't like it, you need them right now."
"Fine." Hailey ignored the lack of fight from him.
"Second, you need to talk to someone."
"That's already been scheduled."
"Ok, but before then you need to talk to Will, me, whoever. You cannot keep this inside. As you can see it's not doing great things for you." Jay nodded, the two of them jumping at Will's sudden entrance.
"Hey! You're wearing the glasses. And you have a drink, perfect!" Hailey sat up as Will took out the proper dosages and cupped them in his hand, cradling the straw under Jay's mouth before Jay swallowed them. A quick mouth check later things were over, all of them realizing the magnitude of what was just consumed. Jay was about to be altered and not in a way he was thrilled about.
"Can we take a couple pillows out," Jay asked and the two helpers agreed.
"Just relax on the shoulder," Will told his brother as he gently pulled him forward, apologizing for the pain when Jay let a grunt or whimper slip out. Four pillows lighter Jay relaxed into the new position, Hailey and Will making sure everything was perfect before heading for the door.
"Do you need anyone in here," Will offered?
"No, I'm fine." Once the door was shut Hailey wanted nothing with the apartment, practically sprinting out of the place as Will showed her out. The drive over to work was forgettable, which Hailey did rather splendidly. She felt guilty walking up the steps, convicted that she got to solve another case while Jay reminded unresolved. He was different, distant, distracted by the demons. Try as hard as she might there was nothing for her to do. For the third time in this month span she had to standby, watch someone else rescue the one thing she truly cared about. The morning was unmemorable, the case just another one that would blend into the sea of thousands. It was around lunch time when the tears fell, snot and blubber dripping off of her as she read five simple words.
"He's slept all morning. Thanks."
Thankfully, Temporary is Never Permanent
"So, how did it go?"
"I believe the whole point of therapy is that you don't have to talk about it outside that room." Will rolled his eyes as the two of them boarded the elevator. His brother would never divulge things if it was the last thing he did.
"In general, man. Is it helping?"
"Yeah, I guess." Will shook his head, adjusting his weight in an effort to not smack his brother. It was the reminder that he still had the ability to do such thing that kept him from doing so.
"So I have something I've gotta do and it's going to take awhile. I can't take you home now." Jay slowly threw his head back in annoyance, hating that he was still so inept so many weeks later.
"This completely sucks."
"Just a couple more weeks, Jay. Once the blood thinners are done you can start physical therapy.."
"-Can drive myself places again. This is a terrible throwback to being a kid."
"Oh stop, you're getting everything done for you. How is that bad?"
"How is that good?" The elevator chimed, relinquishing their loving bicker into the hallway, the two of them going back and forth as they rounded the turn to the ED. It was Will who held up initially, scanning the sea of people needing help. This place was never empty, never not housing the assumed worst day of people's lives. That was when he turned to face Jay who was zoned out, staring at that room. They were so far removed from that day, that place where the all important crossroad decision was made. Jay made the call, relieved it was the right one, but the emotions and slight memories of that day were still raw and at the forefront. Today a young child and their parent were occupying the room, but one day not so long ago it was his. That place was the kickoff to the seemingly eternal phase of life. He couldn't shake the guilt and realization that a split second decision was still effecting him today, his whole being still trying to move on from this memory. While the rest of his world had grown past it, he was still picking up pieces, trying to make sense of it all.
"Hey, you ok," Will quietly spoke, acting as the rope that would pull him to safety.
"Yeah." Will did another scan marveling at the miracle standing in front of him yet heartbroken for how altered it all was. It was the buzzing phone in his pocket that told him the moment of reflection was up.
"I've gotta go. They're in the waiting room."
"Hold up, they?!"
"Just go. They asked." Jay raised an eyebrow, a tad lost on why Will couldn't just tell him who the elusive 'they' were. But as he worked his way through the ED and towards the waiting room doors he figured out why. He hadn't seen these people since the day he woke up, allowing him weeks to manifest elaborate yet inaccurate assumptions of them. One had told him to back off, let things be and he did the very opposite. The other, he figured, was so that he wouldn't get beat up in broad daylight. Jay now got why Will didn't say who these people were because the chance of him running the other way was quite high.
"Jay," Hank called as the doors slid open. Jay stood just enough in the room to where the sliding doors wouldn't hit him. He was basically cemented in his place, unable to move, breathe, talk, react. He figured his face was revealing all of those because both Voight and Platt were on their feet, ever so slowly approaching him like he was about to fall over.
"You look…great," Trudy stammered as she got closer. Jay shrugged, realizing she was talking about the glasses and not his physical appearance, which was less then stellar at the moment.
"You okay," Voight asked?
"Um…yeah…it's just…the blood loss and concussion. Have this tendency to just zone out." Both of him gave him those looks of sympathy and sadness. He'd gotten countless numbers of them over the last several weeks and quite frankly he despised them.
"Do you want to sit?"
"I can make it to the car. Where is it?" He was guided through the waiting room and out to the ambulance bay, hesitating when they reached the black car. This was a first for him, being terrified of his boss. In the past he was concerned or inquisitive of Voight's actions, but never scared.
"He just wants to talk," Trudy bluntly let out as she opened the door for Jay, waving an arm for Jay to hurry up and climb in the back. With every fiber of his being telling him to run, as if he actually could, Jay climbed in. Palms were in the initial stages of sweating as he watched the two people round the vehicle and climb in. In unison both turned to face him, now leaving him to feel like a college student meeting his parents for the first time since being kicked out of school or breaking up with a long time girlfriend. They were overly concerned and quiet for his liking.
"So it's been what, eight weeks," Voight began?
"More like ten."
"Wow, time really does fly," Trudy remarked. Jay nodded out of a desire to move things along. To him it was the longest stretch of time in his life with nothing but setbacks dotting those days.
"So where are things at right now?"
"I can't do any PT while on the blood thinners and the latest report on that is a couple more weeks. Rhodes and Marcel aren't completely fine with levels or something right now."
"Okay, that's fine. Take however much time you need. We're ready when you are."
"Yeah, um, about that.."
"-How 'bout you hear what we have to say before you say anything," Voight offered. Jay nodded, mentally concluding that whatever bartering had been done on his behalf wasn't going to change much. At the time his decision had been made and he was fine with it. It was at this moment an ambulance flew into the trauma bay entrance, encouraging Voight to get things into gear and get out of the way. So the conversation wasn't going to become a face to face one, but that of him driving and reporting. The occasional glance to the backseat would take place, but for the most part Jay was given the ability to glance out the window and get lost in the view.
"Superintendent is taking the brunt of this. Finally came out with the truth that he heavily insisted Intelligence use the facial recognition software for that specific case. He still won't say that he knew it was in a beta stage but he isn't denying it either."
"Ivory tower made the decision to pull all facial recognition software out of every precinct in the city. There were five other districts using it around or after the time we did. The tech company has been sued by Angela for Marcus' death and news has come out that they'll settle and it'll be a big check," Trudy filled in.
"Too bad she'll be in prison for the rest of her life. She's never going to see a penny of it," Jay quietly spoke in the back. He could hear the groaning up front, feel the frustration running off of them, but Jay didn't care. He felt and believed what he did, no amount of money or semi good ending was going to change that.
"Jay, she almost…um.."
"-Killed me. You can say it."
"Took your life. I'm sorry if you feel some amount of guilt or responsibility for her being charged with that, but it's the reality of things. She has to be held responsible for her actions."
"And I don't?" Things were silent for awhile after that, the harsh yet realness to the question seeming to cast a ban on speaking. The radio wasn't turned on, small talk in the front row didn't occur, the whole car was silent. The person driving focused primarily on the road while the passengers took to the world for a distraction. They are were aware of the double standard that was plaguing the brotherhood of police these days, but Voight and Trudy did not see this as that type of situation. Jay was genuinely trying to help someone out but wound up being in way over his head, not knowing he entire situation before diving in. It was a risk in his secret operation, but one that Jay decided to take damming the consequences. Now he was in that effect of things, trying to piece things back together while making sense of it all. He did nothing wrong, just was ill-informed. As they pulled up to his place Voight silently concluded that this was well above his pay grade and training. They all had to trust the care and therapy he was getting right now would be enough to return him home.
"So about coming back…" Voight closed his eyes, fearing what was coming next. That possibility was always dancing in the back of his mind. In a way he understood why a lot of people decided to leave after events like this, but he never thought it would be Jay uttering those words, living in that mentality. He was about to speak when Trudy placed a hand on his shoulder, as if to say she had it.
"Jay, I think I know you're going to say next. You want to walk away, go find something else to do because you don't know if you can do this job anymore."
"That's a generalization of things."
"Okay. If you say that then we have no choice but to start putting things in motion. At some point down that road we cannot back out of things and I would hate to having you doubting that decision. You're still recovering, a lot is still going on in your life. Please do not make these kinds of calls right now. You still have several weeks so use that to forget that aspect of things. I'm telling you, once you get away from that for a time things will become clearer."
"And if nothing changes?"
"Then we will respect your decision. I'm just asking you to give it more time." Jay looked to both of them, feeling like this was a goodbye. In the immediate it was, he couldn't sit in the car forever. But in a more philosophical, metaphorical way, this was a splitting up, a breakaway from the norm. He didn't know if or when he'd see them again. He'd go back to his currently stalled out life while they propelled into the next stage. It was the analogy of two ships passing. They were together for a time but soon alone again, hoping at some point to reunite. Jay took things in, appreciated the moment, and then excused himself to the freezing cold. Waving was still a small task but he managed, holding the hand up as they disappeared into the belly of the city.
A strange thing then took place. Without fully realizing it Jay was standing at an intersection. Both literally and figuratively he was at a corner of the city, the world, his life. He was met with a choice: turn left for safety and familiarity or right into the cold, mysterious unknown. Jay realized that for the past ten weeks this is where he was: making that call. He'd glance one way or take a step towards another, but the stalled out feeling he had on his life was the result of not making the choice. He was shot, he almost died twice, and now it was time to move on. He took a couple more minutes to contemplate, get emotional, and find solace in it all. He looked to the right, noting the temptation in figuring out the unknown. But deep down in his very core he knew the option that he could live with the most. Final look right and he pivoted left, escaping into the warmth of what he knew.
A small spoiler alert: the next chapter will be a follow up to 7x04. I know you guys have been asking for it and now you shall have it! Thanks so much for reading! See you guys soon.