Jay's POV

We all stand at the loading dock, waiting for the convoy with Tony Ramos to arrive. All except Hailey, who is taking a mandated leave of absence until this case is solved. The Feds are involved and the stakes are high. Needless to say, the mood is tense and somber. The air is thick and energized, making everything electric. We all feel the tiny pulses of crackling chaos circling around us. One spark and… boom!

I can feel Voight's eyes on me and I sense a pull coming from his direction, keeping me in check. "Jay, you good?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm good." I answer. But that can't be farther from the truth, and he knows it.

Feeling the heaviness in the air, Voight clears his throat. "I know this is not how we thought this would go down. But this is how we make things right for Hailey and all the other victims. If we have to play ball with the Feds, so be it. If we have to make unsavory deals to get to the top banana, then that's what we'll do." His words are weighted, heavy with hidden meaning. "We are intelligence and this is us doing our job."

Not long after, a black unmarked van escorted by four unmarked cars pulls up to the dock. Anger boils and bubbles inside me and I'm sure my face shows it. I curl my fingers into a fist as the feeling continues to grow exponentially at the thought of occupying the same space as Tony. I try to focus on my breathing. I can't let my anger consume to the point of actually acting on it. There are too many eyes on this one.

When they yank Tony from inside the van, his eyes land on me curiously. "Riiiiight," he says slowly as a light goes off in his puny head. "You're a cop?" He scoffs and pans his head around as if looking for Hailey. "That bitch. Was Riley an informant? Does your boss know you were banging her on the side?"

I just look at him, the anger inside me simmering. "If I were you, I'd have the good sense to keep my mouth shut," I warn, my voice surprisingly steady considering the amount of adrenaline coursing my veins.

"How's she doing by the way. Last time I saw her she wasn't doing so good."

"You heard the man, shut your mouth," Atwater says shoving him towards the stairs.

"Park him in the interrogation room," Voight commands. "No one is to go in there," he says, looking directly at me.

"She was good. Tight. I'm sure you know that."

The words leave his mouth and my self-control vanishes faster than a snow ball thrown into hell. I go into a blind rage, punching him in the face and stomach full force. Tony doubles over, winded and wheezing. When he straightens, he spits blood from his mouth on the pavement and smiles. I go for another blow to his stupid face, but that's when Ruzek grabs my arm and slams me against the back wall. My body is shaking and my breathing is labored, charged with adrenaline. Ruzek says something, but I can't hear him over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It takes a few seconds of deep breathing to clear the red from my vision.

"Hey, Jay. You hear me? You good?"

"Yeah," I shake the mad thoughts out of my head. "I'm good."

Ruzek slowly steps away and pats my shoulder. "If you hadn't punched him, I certainly would have."

I nod.

"Oh, hey. Is your hand okay?"

I look down at my hand. My knuckle is bleeding slightly from a torn stitch. "Yeah, it's fine. I'll just wrap it."

I take a deep breath and make my way up to the pen. Voight makes it clear that we are not to go near the interrogation room. We are to sit tight and wait for orders. I sit at my desk and look at Hailey's empty one. I'm glad she's away from all of this.

x

It's been about one hour since Tony arrived at the district. A revolving door of federal agents and lawyers have been coming and going. Voight has come up for air for a few times, but never to report anything. We are basically sitting here twiddling your thumbs, waiting. I'm restless, agitated, and aggravated. I can't focus on anything other than my anger. Anger feel more comfortable and safer than the underlying emotions circling my veins right now.

"Hey Jay," Ruzek's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "You might want to…" he motions with his head towards the top of the stairs.

I look and find none other than Hailey, standing there as if the top of her head is about to blow off, like a volcano. Immediately, I get up and block her path – I know where she wants to go. She ignores me and tries to walk past me, but I stand my ground. Her face is pale, her eyes wide, and I can see her shaking.

"Jay, get out of my way," she says angrily. I can hear the unshed tears in her voice. I can see the strain this is causing her.

"No, Hailey. You can't. You're not even supposed to be here."

"Get out of my way!"

"Hailey…"

She looks at me then, her eyes flat and glittering with fury. She sidesteps me and heads towards the interrogation room, but I gently grab her arm and guide her to the locker room instead. "Hailey, Hailey… stop. You can't go in there." I take the opportunity and retrieve the gun from her holster – just in case she decides to hell with everything. I know I was teetering that ledge just over an hour ago.

She senses the shift in weight on her hip and looks indignantly up at me. "Give me back my gun," she says jerking free from my grasp.

I take a deep breath. "I can't do that. I also can't let you go in there."

She pauses for a minute, and something inside her seems to crack. "It's true then? The Feds giving him a deal."

Of course she would find out about it. She looks up at me with glassy eyes, her lower lip trembling. "We shouldn't be making deals with scum!"

"I get it. I do, but this is bigger than Tony, right?" I say the words and I know they sound empty and hollow. "You said it so yourself he is not the shot caller."

The look of disdain on her face hits me like a physical blow. "I can't believe you're taking their side."

"Hailey, I'm not. I'm not taking anyone's–"

"—You saw what he did to Tamara and all the other girls," she says through gritted teeth. "You saw what he did to me!" She paces the room in frustration, hot, angry tears coursing down her face. "He doesn't deserve a deal. He deserves to rot in jail or in a ditch somewhere." She stops her pacing and glares at me. "You should be more angry."

"Hailey, I'm furious. The only thing that's keeping me from going in there and killing him myself is the fact that it won't put an end to this ring. It would be like trying to put out a fire with a cup of water. It's not enough."

Grief claims her then and she collapses on a bench, making no more effort to rebel. "I thought I was good. I thought this was behind me." Hailey's voice cracks and she puts her head down as she says barely above a whisper, "I feel like I will never be over this."

I take a seat next to her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I kiss her hair and squeeze her gently, trying my best to comfort her. I've come to accept that I can't give back what Tony took from her. No one can. It's probably what drives Hailey into this state of frenzy. No matter how many therapy sessions or how much time passes, Hailey will never get that part of herself totally back.

"Has Voight said anything?"

"No, he is keeping everyone out of the loop. I know the Feds are only cooperating with us because Voight was adamant about seeing this case through."

"The Feds don't care. They will give this guy five years, he'll be out in three for good behavior."

Running my fingers down her arm, I take her hand in mine. It is hot, like she has a fever. "Voight won't let that happen."

She pauses and notices my injured hand. "Why is your hand wrapped? Did you pull a stitch?"

"Yeah," I answer, offering no more detail. "It's fine."

She nods skeptically and after a beat she asks, "Do you think we can listen in on the interrogation?"

I pause, considering her request carefully and taking a deep breath before speaking. "Voight actually told us to not go near the room. But is that something you really want to do?"

Hailey pulls herself together, sucking back her tears, and taking a breath so deep I think it originated in her feet. "Yes."

"Okay, let's do it."

Hailey POV

Seeing his face again.

My head spins as my thoughts crash like waves, each more painful than the last. I feel a burning anger rising from the pit of my stomach. I don't like it, but it gives me something to focus on other than the hurt, and I let it in.

The only thing keeping me from chocking this bastard is the two-way mirror and Jay, who is standing next to me, hand on the small of my back, keeping me grounded. Also, the fact that Tony has a fresh black eye and Jay's hand has a fresh bandage doesn't escape me.

As I listen to the interrogation the anger starts to eat at me, and I'm sure that if I don't get it out of me soon, I will explode. I'm scared of what I might do if I let the anger take over right now. I have to move, do something, not just stand here anymore. I can feel myself spiraling and I don't know how to stop.

"Hey, let's go upstairs," Jay offers. I look up at him and he is searching my face. How long has he been watching me? "If Voight finds us here, he'll blow a fuse. I think it will be best if we take a break."

"Sure," I say and he guides me back to the pen, his hand never leaving the small of my back.

We sit in the bullpen for hours before Voight finally resurfaces. His eyes land on me and he doesn't seem one bit surprised to see me. He acknowledges me with the slightest nod of his head. If a nod could be cold, his would take the prize.

Voight breaks down the deal the Feds have offered Tony in exchange for everything he knows. In no certain terms, Voight lets it be known that the amount of time he will do is contingent on the value of his intel. In other words, he might do a year max. I try not to let my anger get the best of me. I hold myself tight and think about what Jay said earlier – this is bigger than Tony.

After we are debriefed, I venture out of my desk and knock on Voight's door, "Sarge, can I talk to you?"

"Come in," he says and motions for me to sit down. I see his face and can't help but see a fusion of pity and affection there, the type of emotion conjured by a limping dog. I take a seat and hesitate, considering what to say, but the words escape me. Not, not escape… I just can't stop thinking over my anger. Something feels very wrong, I just can't formulate a single coherently sentence.

Voight looks at me and asks, "Anything you want to discuss?"

I square my shoulders, fixing my eyes on a random point on the wall in front of me. "Did my name come up at all during the interrogation?" I control my tone, careful not to seem too furious. Too much anger might indicate I'm out of control.

Voight nods. "Riley's name did come up."

"Does he know I'm a cop?"

"No. And we will keep it that way. As long as the deal is on the table and Tony abides by the terms, there won't be a trial and you won't have to testify."

"I would testify," I say. "If it comes to that I will stand in front of a judge and tell everything that bastard did to me." I pause for a moment to compose myself before I ask, "Did he confess to killing Tamara and the other girls?"

Voight nods. "We have him on everything." He exhales audibly and adds, "He is not getting a free pass. He'll do time. I will make sure of it."

"Not enough for what he did," I blurt out.

"You're right. He doesn't deserve the olive branch the Feds are giving him, but the girls being trafficked right now do. I don't make deals with bottom feeders, but we went at this from every direction and we didn't get very far. This is how we get them. All of them."

Despite the sound logic in Hank's words, I don't find any solace. I guess there is nothing he can tell me to alleviate the anger I feel. I guess we are all wrapped in a straitjacket.

"Go home, Hailey. You're still on temporary leave until this is over. It's the only way Intelligence can stay on the case."

I nod. "Thanks, Sarge."

I leave Voight's office and Jay is waiting for me, sitting at the edge of my desk. Everyone has left for the day and it's just the two of us now. When he seems me, his face softens with a soft smile. "Hey," he reaches for my hand, pulling me slowly to him. "I have a proposition for you?" I eye him skeptically as he draws me even nearer. "You. Me. The cabin," he says and his eyebrows raise suggestively.

"What?"

Taking pity on my muddled brain, Jay smiles that soft smile again at me. "Let's go to the cabin. Just for a few days, until this all blows over."

I look at him contemplating his proposition. "Jay—"

"This is how you change the narrative, Hailey. This is how you take control. Tony doesn't deserve an ounce of your attention. He doesn't deserve your anger or your energy."

As much as I want to bask in my anger, Jay is right. I can't let Tony inside my head anymore. I can't let him take anything else away from me. Jay gazes at me affectionately, as he touches my face for a moment, then the corners of his mouth stretches into a smile. "So, you in?"

I nod. "Yeah, but I'm driving this time."


I apologize for the delay in posting this. I know it's not the greatest, but it's something I could produce in my current headspace. It's just been hectic/crazy on my end as I'm sure it is for a lot of you out there. Finding a new norm/routine when everything is upside-down is tricky. I hope this gives you a moment of solace from everything that is going on. Cheers!