Jay's POV
Hailey will be discharged from the hospital today.
I've been trying to give her space and just be there for her, but everything I do seems like it's the wrong thing. It's like everything I do is simultaneously too much and not enough. If I'm there, I feel like she wants me to leave, but when I leave she looks disappointed. Nothing I do seems to help, and I get it, Hailey's been through something so horrific I can't imagine what's going through her head. Nobody should have to go through that. But I can't just sit back and watch her crumble. Every day I feel like I'm losing a little bit more of her. Like she's slipping away, bit by bit, and with each piece some of me goes with her. But I'm optimistic that today will be a better day. Maybe returning home will be good for her. A place that is familiar and safe. Hospitals are just the worse.
With renewed energy, I get up, shower, and head to the hospital. On my way to Hailey's room I run into Natalie.
"Hey Nat, how is she?"
"Physically? She's good. Emotionally? She's got some ways to go. She's exhibiting normal victim behaviors. But I had Dr. Charles reach out to her."
"Anything I should keep an eye out for?"
She pauses, considering. She takes a deep breath and says, "Make sure she eats, sleeps, keeps a routine, attends support meetings..."
I nod. "Don't think eating will be a problem. Hailey has a big appetite. She can knock back a few Gyros at a time."
Natalie smiles. "It's just very common for rape victims to lose their appetite. It's just a form of control."
"Control?"
"It's something they can have power over. It doesn't make sense, but it is very common. Just keep an eye out. Again, this might not be a problem for Hailey."
I nod. "Thanks, Nat." Natalie turns to leave, but I stop her. "Hey, um, anything else I should know. Look I just want to help." Natalie presses her lips together in a sympathetic smile. "I feel like everything I do is the wrong thing. I know she's going through a lot and I don't want to make this process harder. I just want to help her…that's all."
Natalie put her hand on my shoulder, flashing me an empathetic smile. "Jay, just be there for her. Let her know that what happened doesn't change how you feel about her—"
"It doesn't," I state.
Natalie offers me a kind smile again. "There's a lot that has changed for her, but if you remain the one constant thing in her life is a start."
"What if she doesn't want me there?" I ask. For her sake, I would find the strength to let her go, if that's what she really wanted.
Natalie pauses. "She will be hesitant to accept any sort of mercy right now, specially from you. She blames herself – like all victims do. She might push you away, but that's just her coping with the guilt."
I swallow a lump of emotions. "Guilt? It wasn't her fault. Nothing that happened was her fault!"
"I know that. But she might need a little more convincing. Therapy will help with that. On her discharge paper I put pamphlets of support groups. I'm sure the CPD also has them too."
"Yeah," I nod. "I won't keep you anymore. Thanks, Nat."
I walk to Hailey's hospital room and knock, the door slides open with a creek. I peek my head inside, "Hailey?" I say and she starts. Tears are streaming down her face, as if she isn't aware she's even crying. She quickly she wipes the tears and I pretend not to notice it. "You ready to get out of here? I stopped by your place and got you clean clothes. Actually, Rojas packed you the bag. I'm just the delivery man." I lift the bag so she can see it.
"Thank you."
I give her the bag and she pushes the blankets back and eases herself off the bed. The hospital gown rides up, exposing the angry bruises purpling her skin on her thighs. They look like hand prints. I bite down and take a deep breath, shaking off the thought.
She stands by the bed for a moment, looking around unsure. I try to read her expression but it's blank; no hint of a smile or crease of a frown. "Want me to close the door so you can change?" I offer.
"No," she says a bit too quickly. A terrified look clouds her face. "I'm just…" She takes a breath, and I'm not sure if she's about to cry. "I'll just go into the bathroom." She glances up at me and her expression is almost apologetic when she closes the bathroom door behind her.
I know Hailey wanting to shield herself from me is just a coping mechanism. Despite the fact that I know every inch of her body – every beauty spot, every angle, plane, and curve better than I know my own. The freckle on her thigh, I've kissed it, the tiny white scar on her ribs, I've kissed it too. There isn't a part of her that I haven't touched, stroked, tasted. I know I can't take this personally, but it stings.
I look around the empty hospital room and see all the take-out containers I've been bringing– breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I peek under them and notice most are untouched. Shit.
"Hey Jay," Hailey calls, timidly peeking her head out of the bathroom door. I snap my attention to her. "Can you help me untie this hospital gown?"
"Of course."
I walk the short distance to the bathroom and she gradually opens the door all the way. She turns her back to me and wraps her arms around her chest, holding herself tight. I push her hair aside and goosebumps immediately dots her skin. I can feel all her muscles tightening under my touch. I pretend as if this doesn't break my heart. I quickly undo the tie and take a step back. The fabric falls slightly from her shoulders and it gaps open enough for me to see other bruises chasing one another down her back.
I clear my throat. "Do you need help—"
"No I've got It," she says and closes the door quickly behind herself.
A knot twists in my abdomen. I take a deep breath and straighten my spine, doing my best to shove my disappointment to the back of my mind. Never in my life had I wanted so badly to pull her in my arms, and hug her and kiss her and tell her everything is going to be okay, even if I don't know that to be true. I just want to stay with her, want to hold her close and never let her out of my sight. Ever.
Moments later, Hailey emerges from the bathroom and I smile to hide my anguish. She's all dressed and with a half-smile of her own on her face. "Feels good to take that hospital gown off."
"Yeah, I know the feeling. You ready to go?"
"Yeah. I already signed the discharge papers. Can't wait to sleep in my own bed."
"Yeah," I agree. "Oh it's not super urgent, but Voight wanted you to give a statement, if you're up for it we can—"
"Oh, I already did. Burgess came the other day and I told her what I remembered."
"Oh, good." I say, trying not to feel hurt by the fact that she didn't talk to me. I shake the feeling off and offer her my hand. She takes it and we walk slowly down the hall. I notice her gait is stiff and slow so when we reach the exit I say, "Want to wait here while I go pull the car around?" She looks nervously at me, then looks round the entrance to the hospital, like she's surveying a scene. "It's fine if you want to come. I just thought—"
"I'll come," she says. "It's a nice day. It will be nice to stretch my legs."
She looks up at me and smiles. I almost believe that's the real reason she's doesn't want to wait by the entrance door. I really want to believe everything she says, but I'm not that naïve. I wish she could just tell me she doesn't want to be alone, or that all the commotion at the entrance is too much for her to take. I just want her to know that her fears are not irrational and that I will not think any less of her for not wanting to linger alone at the entrance of a busy hospital.
We drive to her apartment in silence, which I know she is grateful for. She keeps her head turned and stares out the window the whole time, her eyes unfocused and distant. When I can't take the silence anymore, I ask, "Are you hungry?" When she doesn't answer I reach for her hand, and just the brush of my fingers has her jerking back. Her eyes flash to mine and in them I see panic. "Hey…"
She swallows. "Sorry." This time, she reaches out and gently settles her fingers on the back of my hand. I take my eyes off the road for a second and lace my fingers through hers.
"Are you hungry?"
"Oh, um… not really."
"Well, it's almost lunchtime. You have to eat." I tell her. "We can grab something to go and when you feel up for it you can eat. Or we can just stop by the market and pick up a few things to make." She's not listening anymore. It's like someone pressed the pause button and she shut down for a minute staring off into space. "Hailey?" I tug at her hand.
She starts. "Yeah?"
"What do you want to eat?" I say, smiling to soften the question.
Hailey's POV
Everything is broken.
Just broken.
I can't find my ground. Don't know which way to turn. Nothing sounds right. Nothing smells right. Nothing is the way it is supposed to be. Drowning. I'm drowning and I have no idea how to get my head above water. If I can do something, anything, maybe then I can…breathe.
Jay is sitting so close to me in this car - I can smell his scent, it's everywhere. He smells right. He feels right. Our eyes meet and I see the questions in his eyes, the fear. The fury. And the hurt.
I hurt him. I keep hurting him. I'm not doing it on purpose, but it keeps happening. Again, he lifts his brow. "What do you want to eat?"
Nothing. Nothing. I'm not hungry.
Then again, I know him well enough to know there is no way in hell he'd let this go. He's brought food for me for the last two days, tried to get me to eat in the hospital. I wasn't hungry then. I'm not hungry now.
Empty. Everything is empty. Everything hurts. My wrists. My stomach, all my muscles hurt. Four days. It's been four days, I think, but maybe longer. The time is fuzzy.
"Hey. You've got to eat. I don't want you passing out. Hailey?" His words jerk me back. His fingers rub across the back of my knuckles.
"I know. I will eat." I say, trying and failing to hide the bite in my voice.
For just an instant I see the hurt on his face again before he veils it with a smile. "Okay, anything in particular?"
We end up picking up take out from some place on Wabash and driving to my apartment. When I walk inside, it's like I'm entering it for the first time, as if the familiarity of it evaporated – and in a way, it has. Nothing is the same anymore. Everything is different. My own body feels foreign to me. I don't know what I thought it would be like once I came home, but I was terribly mistaken if I thought I would find some semblance of normality here.
Sighing, I walk toward the living room and startle when Jay moves to help me with my bag. This time I think I hear him mutter something under his breath. I stop and stand there, staring at him. "I'm Sorry."
He shakes his head. "No problem."
What a lie like that is. I feel an unexplainable burn of anger rise in my throat. There are so many problems strangling the both of us. There is this ugly black ball between us, wrapped in barbs and trip wire. We can't pretend that everything is fine. Pretend like I didn't majorly fuck up. When we both know it. Everything is far from fine. He can pretend, but the truth is eating away at me.
"How can you say that?" The words are out before I realized it.
"Say what?"
"Why won't you be honest with me? I know you're angry with me and—"
"Wait, Hailey, I'm not angry with you. Not at all."
"You should be!"
"I'm not!" His voice is soft and tender, but firm. "And if you think I blame you for what happened, I don't. Not for a second. Matter of fact, you have no blame in this."
I rake my hand through my hair. How can I make him understand? "I jeopardized the whole operation by going dark. Now who knows where they are. You know what? I will tell you where they are – kidnapping, raping, and killing other girls." I shake my head. Tears start falling from my eyes, and a headache returns. "And that's because of what I did. You should be angry. The team should be angry. The whole CPD should me angry. I'm angry!"
He takes a few steps closer and puts his fingers under my chin, lifting my face. "Be angry Hailey, but not at yourself. The whole CPD is indebted to you, actually. It's because of you that we know who we are after."
"I ruined everything, Jay. The case, the unit's reputation… I ruined us." I pause, shutting my eyes tightly. "I know you can't look at me without thinking—"
"Stop," he says shaking his head, sounding completely heartbroken. "I'm going to stop you right there. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see the best damn cop I know. The person I admire and love most in the world. Hailey, nothing will ever change that. Nothing."
I shake my head hating the look on Jay's face right now. I push away from him with all my strength. "Jay," I plea crying and shaking my head. "I can't—"
"Hailey, I mean it. Nothing has changed between us. Nothing," he affirms. He lowers his head and takes a few deep ragged breaths, as though his lungs are failing him. I can see his whole body trembling. "But if you want me to step back and give you space; I will. Whatever you need me to do, I will. But know that—"
"I didn't even scream." Somehow, the words just shoot out of my mouth, bypassing my brain. My emotions are a tumult. "I just lay there. Didn't even fight. I-I just froze…"
He looks at me with soft eyes, glazed with his own tears. "Hailey, you were drugged. Two of the girls we pulled from that house ODed with same cocktail of drugs you had in your system." He takes careful steps towards me, I take a step back. "You didn't fight back because it was physically impossible. Hailey…"
He tentatively opens his arms, inviting me in. I pause for a moment, considering. Then I relent, desperately needing his comfort, his touch. But as soon as he wraps his arms around me, I involuntarily shrink away, feeling panic rising in my chest.
"I'm sorry." He steps back, holding his hands up. He looks away, but not before I see the hurt on his face.
There I go hurting him again.
I should explain. I should tell him it isn't him or his touch, it's nothing to do with him, but this room is getting too small, and it's making me hyperventilate. I gulp for air, panic rising to steal my breath. I step away and escape to the bathroom. Must get out, my brain tells me. Get out. Find space.
"Hailey," I hear him calling after me. "Hailey, I'm sorry…please…"
I enter the shower, clothes and all, and turn on the water, hot and scalding. I slide down the tiled wall and sit with my knees up to my chest as the tears turn to sobs. Then Jay is immediately at my side, crouching over me and whispering soothing words, trying to coax me back to him. I can feel myself slipping away, deeper and deeper inside myself. I push his hands away weakly. I can't cope with this. I don't' want to cope with this. It hurts. It hurts so much that it rips my insides apart.
I need to shut it all off.
Jay's POV
"Hailey? Hailey, look at me." I cup her cheek and tilt her head up so I can look in her pale blue eyes. But her head is limp, and her eyes are empty. "Hailey," I say hoarsely, shaking her shoulder gently. "Come back to me. I'm here. Not going anywhere."
But it's too late, she's not responding to me. She has totally shut down. I exhale in defeat, moving to sit beside her in the shower stall, the hot water cascading over us. I don't know how to help her. My own tears come.
Thanks for reading! I know things are a bit dark right now. But just drop a comment and let me know if this is still something you would like me to continue! Otherwise, I'll finish this one up with a quick epilogue. Cheers!
