First of all, thank you guys for your amazing reviews on the last chapter. I'm simply blown away that you people actually enjoy reading this story so much. It means the world to me. I haven't had the best of weeks, but know that your kind and encouraging words were one of the things that got me through the past few days.
Moving on with the story. Set in 2018, this chapter picks up right after Jay and Will left their father's reception. This installment yet again deals with Jay's injuries. My apologies if it gets too repetitive. This one offers some insight into Will's thoughts, not so much on Jay's. I'm not satisfied with how the chapter turned out, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Chapter Six
It's Been So Long Since You Came Out to Lead Me Along
Frances Luke Accord & Humbird – Honeyguide
Ironically, the commute from McInerney's Central Chapel to Jay's one-bedroom apartment led them along Halsted Street.
At thirty-two miles in length and a total of 168 blocks from north to south Halsted Street marked one of the longest thoroughfares of the city. It reached from West Grace Street in Lake View all the way down to West Eagle Lake Road north of Beecher, Illinois. Traveling from the North Side through Lincoln Park and Old Town, it soon moved into the Near West as it paralleled the Kennedy Expressway to enter the West Loop, then Greektown before embarking the South Side. There it bypassed several working-class neighborhoods from Bridgeport to Canaryville and Back of the Yards in the South Loop before extending into Englewood, Washington Heights and finally West Pullman. Leaving Chicago for its southern suburbs by crossing the Little Calumet River, Halsted Street bended once, wove through the village of Phoenix only to head for its finishing stretch.
Halsted Street had not always been named that. It had formerly been known as First Street, later to be renamed Dyer Street after prominent abolitionist Charles Volney Dyer. It had adopted a few nicknames along the way, varying from 'Egyptian Road' due to its route directed towards Little Egypt in Southern Illinois, 'Migration Mile' for its significance in immigration and settlement of various nations, and 'The Backbone of Chicago' because it cut through the city's most important neighborhoods. However, its contemporary name dated back to Philadelphian banker brothers William H. and Caleb O. Halsted.
Back when the Halstead brothers with a second 'a' in their last name were young and naïve boys, they had believed that the road had been named after their family. That William H. and Caleb O. were their ancestors, and the missing 'a' was just a misspelling by whoever had been responsible for setting up the street signs all over the city. Living and growing up only a few blocks from Canaryville's demarcation in the west it had seemed only plausible to gullible Will and Jay. Their firm conviction had been the cause of many laughs amongst their family. Especially their maternal grandfather had been amused. He had even playfully suggested that Jay should change his name to Caleb once he was legally allowed to, just so that the brothers could step into the street's eponym's footsteps one day.
Will couldn't help but chuckle at the pleasant memory as he drove north, the brightly lit campus of the University of Illinois coming into view on the left. Things had been good in their early childhood years, easier and more carefree. They had been a mostly harmonious family back then. He and Jay had been inseparable, each other's best friends and equals in every sense of the way despite the two-and-a-half-year age gap between them. As they had grown older, with him entering puberty and both evolving to different interests, they had unavoidably drifted apart, but the way Will remembered it they had still been somewhat close. Up until he had decided to move to New York and pursue his dream even after learning of their mother's diagnosis. Thinking back, it had probably been the turning point. But ultimately, it had been their contrasting approaches to dealing with their mom's illness, above all the way he had handled her death, that had eventually caused this giant rift between them. A rift that was more of a ravine, ostensibly unsurmountable.
Sure enough, they were on speaking terms again, had been for years after the initial radio silence that followed the events after the funeral. They had even gotten closer again since Will had moved back to Chicago four and a half years ago, and he honestly hadn't expected the easy camaraderie to reemerge after everything that had happened between them. But he was glad that they had been able to reconcile to a point where they spontaneously met at Molly's for the occasional after-work beer or watched a game together and without hesitation loaned the other the couch if it got too late or one of them was too inebriated to drive home. They cared about each other, and most people never even suspected them to have unresolved issues from the past between them. Some of them even considered them lucky and envied their close sibling relationship.
But the Halstead brothers knew it was only ever surface level. When they sought each other out after particularly demanding days at work, the offers of silent support were usually awkward and strained, tainted by underlying guilt and resentment. And their easy banter was merely a way to dodge talking about the emotions brewing underneath. They never touched upon the dark matter that weighed so heavily on them. The culprit of it all? Fear of rejection and lack of trust on Jay's side, brought on by Will's neglected duties as an older sibling to back and comfort his little brother through the hardest time of his life. Now, with their father's death freshly looming over their heads, he more than ever wished to erase the fear and regain the trust.
Heaving a sigh, the redhead shook his head. Everything was just so complicated nowadays, the simplicity from all those years ago was no more.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Will left Jane M. Bryne Interchange behind on their right and passed through Greektown before taking a left onto West Monroe Street. From there it was only a few more blocks to Jay's apartment. Movement caught his eye. He allowed himself a quick glance, and in his moment of abstraction accidentally hit a pothole, eliciting a quiet groan from the passenger of the car. It was the first sign the entire twenty-minute drive that he was awake. The ever-present tension in his shoulders were the only other indication that the brunette was in fact not sleeping, which was what the redhead had originally assumed when he had found his brother slumped in the shotgun seat earlier. Body propped against the door, head resting against the window and eyes closed, Jay hadn't shifted from that position since. Up until now that was.
"Sorry," Will apologized, daring yet another quick scan of the other man. The right arm had wrapped tighter around his midsection, protectively holding the corresponding hand against the wound in his side. His breathing came in sharp wheezing puffs, the intervals a little too frequent for his liking, and the doctor wondered if maybe something had been missed in the initial examination. Then again, the shooting had been almost a week ago. If something were critically wrong, Jay wouldn't be sitting in the passenger seat next to him. "We're almost home," he reassured quietly, more to himself than the younger man, but he received an acknowledging nod anyways. Three more blocks and he would be able to check on him.
Crossing South Morgan, then South Aberdeen Street and finally South Racine Ave, Will searched for an empty lot to park the car. He found one right in front of Jay's apartment building and thanked the Heavens for the rare treat. Climbing out, he rounded the vehicle to help the detective, but Jay waved him off and pushed himself out of the car seat onto wobbly feet. It was a challenge, but he succeeded. They made the short trek to the entrance in silence, with the older brother lingering just a step behind and to the left of the younger, ready to assist in case it was necessary. However, his aid wasn't needed; the brunette managed to hold his own all the way to the second floor, though he was breathing just a tad harder by the time they made it to his door.
The younger Halstead fumbled with his keys for a bit, the slight tremor in his hands not lost on Will. He was just about to snatch the set from his brother's hands when Jay fitted the metal into the lock. Dropping his shoes by the door and the keys into the bowl on the side table in the entryway, the former ranger didn't even bother to check whether the ginger followed him into the apartment. Instead, he beelined to his bedroom and from there straight into the adjacent bathroom. Coat and tie were thrown haphazardly onto the bed in passing, and by the time his brother reached the threshold of the en-suite, the white dress shirt was already unbuttoned, revealing the detective's chiseled chest.
Will's gaze was instantly drawn to the rainbow-colored bruising on Jay's torso; the purple almost black speck where the bullet had hit the vest fanned out into bluish green before fading into a sea of yellow further away from the center. The entirety of the spectacular artwork was about the size of a dinner plate and looked more like a topographic map from an atlas with the color coding gone wrong. For all his years as a doctor and the many variants of contusions, Will still found himself taken aback by the captivating sight. The man in front of him wasn't some random no-name in the emergency room. This was his brother. And no matter how many times he got injured on the job, it would never get any easier to see him hurt.
Before long, his eyes shifted to the thick white patch of gauze below his brother's ribcage, a faint yellow and green tint peeking out under the tape, more bruising sure to be hidden beneath. There was a dark brown splotch in the middle – a clear sign that the wound had bled again at some point. The doctor in Will already started speculating whether Jay had pulled his stitches and mentally prepared himself for the struggle that would ensue if that were the case. As though he was reading his mind, the younger man followed his line of sight and glanced down at his abdomen, then back up at his brother. Their eyes met, exchanging worry albeit for completely different reasons, and the redhead took it as a cue to jump into action.
"May I?" he waved his hand towards the bandage. Jay approved with a timid nod and forced himself to stand still as Will carefully peeled back the tape. He inspected the bullet hole and the suture work, relieved to find no stitches broken, though he wasn't happy with the angry redness surrounding the wound. "Did you change this at some point?" he asked, looking up at Jay. A nod. "Clean the wound properly?" Another bop of the head. The detective swayed on his feet as a bout of dizziness washed over him and grabbed onto the sink for balance. "Sit down," Will ordered upon noticing his brother waver. Jay obeyed and situated himself on the closed toilet seat. "When?"
The query confused Jay for a moment, his sleep-deprived and slightly intoxicated state slowing his brain, but when the other opened the narrow cabinet in the corner next to his shower stall, pulled out the fully stocked first aid kit he kept there and rummaged through its contents, he concluded that Will was referring to his last change of dressing. "Three days ago, and then after showering this morning," he replied and watched as his brother snapped on a pair of surgical gloves and laid out multiple items on the sink for easy access. "It wasn't bleeding this morning," Jay elaborated, thinking this was why Will asked. "Did I pull any stitches?"
Crouching down in front of him, the older Halstead shook his head. He pulled the stained bandage off the rest of the way, discarded it into the trashcan and grabbed the disinfectant and a sterile gauze pad to clean the wound, starting from the center and moving to the outer area. "No. But it might be infected," he professed absentmindedly. Will carefully pushed down on the puffy surroundings, eliciting a hiss from Jay. He halted his movements for a brief second and smiled apologetically, continuing when the sitting man remained quiet otherwise. Through the thin layer of the glove, Will noted the warmth radiating from the injury, another sign for his assessment. However, both could very well be put down to the body trying the mend the tissue.
"There is no pus yet, so that's good. Could very well just be irritated from the sutures and you moving around all day. I'll put some Polysporin on it just in case." At Jay's questioning look, he explained, "it's an antibiotic cream. It will hopefully keep infection from setting in." The doctor grabbed a tube from the sink, unscrewed the cap and squeezed some of the clear gel onto his finger before applying it onto the ragged skin. Adding cuticell, a non-adhesive dressing and a couple layers of gauze, he secured his work with medical tape. "Done. I'm going to check on this again tomorrow."
He pulled off his gloves and threw them into the bin, along with the empty packaging of the dressings, his eyes meanwhile resuming their visual assessment of the impressive landscape on his brother's chest. Will tilted his head, silently asking for permission to check on the contusions as well. Jay merely let his head fall back against the tiles in resignation. The redhead's fingers ghosted over the skin with skillful movements, gently palpating the darker areas, the other wincing sporadically. The younger man blew out a defeated, shaky exhale, and a whiff of whiskey and beer tickled Will's nostrils as the breath hit his face. For some reason, the smell made him angry. Not at the detective but at himself as it carried a cruel analogy that he hadn't been aware of up until now: he hadn't been by Jay's side as he had consumed the alcohol, instead he'd left him alone throughout most the afternoon and evening, on the reception of yet another parent. Upon realization, he pressed down just a bit harder than necessary on one of the more tender spots, eliciting a miniscule flinch from his little brother.
"Sorry bro," Will mumbled ruefully, grinding his teeth at his stupidity. Jay shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in a poor attempt to reassure him, completely unaware of the other man's self-loathing. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind, the older brother continued his ministrations in a quick and effective manner. Once he was done, he lifted his hands from Jay's skin, hovering above the chest not quite touching but enough for the other to sense its nearness. "Alright so, there's extensive swelling around here," Will drew a circle in the air just above the dark mass off to the right of his left pectoral, "and down here." His index finger indicated an area two inches lower, closer to where the bottom two ribs connected to the sternum. "There's a small dip here when I press down. Ethan didn't mention any broken ribs, though?"
Jay shook his head. "No, he said it's just hairline fractures." He grimaced as he shifted on the toilet seat to obtain a more comfortable position but couldn't find one so gave up on it and busied himself with counting the tiles behind his brother to distract himself.
Slightly alarmed by his brother's revelation, Will raised his eyebrows at him. This little fact was new to him. He hadn't read the medical report, just gotten an abridged version from Dr. Choi when Jay had been released from the hospital. "You do realize that a hairline fracture is basically just an incomplete break?" he burst out in exasperation but quickly reined himself in upon seeing the flash of hurt on the detective's face. The brunette wasn't a doctor, besides Will didn't blame him; much rather he was annoyed with his coworker for neglecting to disclose such an important information to him. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves before asking, "did you hear a snapping or cracking noise sometime over the past days or feel a popping sensation? Any sharp pain when you're breathing in?" He studied the other anxiously. "Please be honest with me Jay."
The younger brother knitted his brows and sucked in the corner of his upper lip, genuinely trying to recall. It surprised the ginger since deflection and brush-offs were his usual go-to tactic in situations like this. "Uh… not really a snapping or cracking. More like grinding, like when your grating cheese or something. No trouble breathing or at least no more than usual." His teeth nervously pulled at the chapped skin of his lips. "Should I be worried?"
Will put a hand on his brother's knee and squeezed as he took in the uncertainty on Jay's facial expression. "It's not exactly uncommon in injuries like this, but I would feel better if you got another x-ray just to be on the safe side." Jay closed his eyes and slumped into himself in rout. Will instantly felt bad for even proposing another trip to the hospital, when exhaustion radiated from every one of his brother's pores. The younger Halstead never fully let his guard down in front of anyone, so to see him in this state now was raw evidence of how emotionally and physically drained he was. "We can do it tomorrow," he offered, "if you promise to tell me the minute pain or breathing become worse." Remembering that their definition of worse oftentimes differed greatly he added, "and I'm not talking excruciating pain where you're on the verge of passing out or the kind of breathing difficulties where your lips and fingertips are already turning blue, got it?"
Too tired for anything else, Jay merely opened his eyes and nodded, the hint of a smile gracing his lips. It was enough to bear Will out on his decision to avoid the additional stress spending a night in the emergency department would bring. His little brother needed sleep first and foremost. And in order to do that: pain relief. Will pushed himself up off the floor and walked over to the bathroom cabinet, grabbing the first aid kit and stowing it away in its original place while searching the upper shelves with his eyes. He didn't find what he was looking for though. "Where do you keep your meds?"
Jay tried but failed to push himself into a more upright position, ready to fetch the offending chemicals himself. But Will was there in an instant and pushed him back down onto the seat. "Kitchen," Jay supplied through gritted teeth. He braced his left side with one hand and massaged the bridge of his nose with the other as he breathed through the minor pain spike.
Rubbing his shoulder with slow circular motions of his thumb, Will helped him relax, relieved that the other accepted the touch without any protest. "I'll get them. Stay here." Jay obeyed and watched his brother's retreating backside, only to close his eyes and hunch into himself once Will was out of sight. "Where exactly?" His brother's yell came from across the hall a moment later.
"Hanging cupboard, above the sink," Jay called back. He listened to the creaking sound of a cupboard being opened, followed by the rattling of pill bottles and running water from the tab. Will reappeared with a glass of water in one hand and three tiny orange containers perched precariously on his other. He took the cup from his brother, allowing him to prepare the meds. There was the slightest hesitation as Will opened the first bottle. "What?" Jay inquired upon noticing but Will refrained from answering, shaking his head instead while busying himself with the other containers. Seconds later, the tablets were held out to him in silence. He picked them up, popped them into his mouth and washed them down with large gulps of water.
"Jay, when did you take your last dose?" Will asked quietly once the glass was empty, arms crossed in front of his chest. Alarmed, the younger Halstead looked up, opening his mouth as he tried to come up with a lame excuse, but his fatigued mind came up empty. "Did you take anything at all since you threw me out five days ago? Because those pill bottles were just as full as I left them after filling your prescription at the hospital." His voice was serious and dangerously low.
Embarrassed about being found out like that, Jay lowered his eyes to his lap, finding himself suddenly mesmerized by the remaining droplets of water in the cup. He tilted and twirled the glass in his hand, watching as one droplet followed gravity, swallowed every molecule in its way yet left a trail of others behind. "I didn't need them," he answered quietly. The liquid pooled at the bottom when he stopped his little science experiment.
Will huffed in irritation and threw up his arms. "Jesus, do you even hear yourself?" he exploded, provoking a flinch from his sibling. "You could have died five days ago! Died, you hear me? Those bruises on your chest are prove of that. Hell, if you hadn't worn a vest, if the force of that bullet had been just a bit more powerful and went through, you could have… you would have been dead." His breath hitched. "Do you get that Jay? Do you even realize how close you came to dying? Do you even care?" He turned away, unable to look at his brother right now. He heaved a trembling sigh, attempting to calm himself down a bit. Tears brimmed his eyes as he veered back to face Jay. "I almost lost you. Two days after dad died, I almost lost you, my brother, the only relative I have left."
His voice cracked and the exuded anguish hit Jay like a ton of bricks. His upper body folded further into itself, the protesting ribs were ignored as hot tears suddenly burned his own eyes. A sob caught in his throat made for a pitiful noise. "I know. And I'm sorry." He sounded the part too. "I know how fucking stupid I was, Will." The self-denunciation was almost too much to endure for the other Halstead. "I just… Can we please have this conversation when my head is a little clearer?" he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper and pain resonating with every word. "I'm an ass. I know that. But I'm so freaking tired."
The redhead shook his head and closed his eyes. Pressing his index finger and thumb into his eyes, he eventually nodded in agreement. "Let's get you to bed then," he relented. He knew it would be harder to get through to Jay tomorrow when he was more rested, when he'd have had the time to erect his walls around him and prepare himself for the impending argument, but it wasn't fair to go off on someone who was basically defenseless due to bone-weary exhaustion. His brother deserved a fair game.
He closed the distance between them, offering a hand for his little brother to grab. Surprisingly, Jay took it and pulled himself up gingerly, mindful not to move too fast or strain anything too much. But in typical Jay Halstead fashion he let go of the helping appendage the second he was upright, slowly making his way towards the bedroom. He slipped out of the sleeves of his shirt and dropped the pants, leaving both in a heap on the floor as he sat down on the edge of the bed in just his boxers. Shivering slightly, Jay groaned in realization that his attire wouldn't be enough to keep him warm throughout the chilling October night. He contemplated asking Will, but his brother already held out a loose-fitting t-shirt with the police academy emblem. With a small smile he grabbed it and pulled it over his head, grimacing as it jostled the abused pectoral and abdominal muscles.
Will watched him quietly. It was a mystery to the doctor how his brother had managed to get himself presentable for the funeral this morning. If the minor task of putting on a top already caused Jay this much pain, how in the world had he managed to slip into his suit, much less fasten his shoes? There was no denying the detective was in copious amounts of pain even with the aid of pain meds and he didn't have that this morning. He shook his head and sighed at his brother's stubbornness, not for the first time noticing how scarily alike Jay and their father were in that regard.
"What's on your mind?" Jay asked when he caught the motion, laboriously scooting back on the bed to get himself settled and ignoring the fact that he was laying on the covers instead of under them. The task of moving yet again appeared nearly impossible but he'd regret staying like this once the temperatures in the room dropped. Sensing his inner debate, a still hovering Will rushed to his rescue. He swiftly pulled the blanket from under him and tugged his little brother in. Just like he'd done when they were still kids and Jay was sick.
Swallowing against the onslaught of memories and the emotions that came with them, he answered, "I was just thinking about the old man." He busied himself with the adjustment of pillows, placing them behind his head, back and shoulder blades in a way that would make breathing a little easier. Those were flicks of the wrist that came natural to him from years of medical practice, and they had an oddly soothing effect on him. Jay shifted compliantly as he did so, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position in which he could drift off into slumber. "Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He patted Jay's shoulder, then turned around to leave.
He was halfway through the door when Jay called out to him. "Crash on the couch tonight?" Will twisted around, stunned by the question. Catching his brother's blue-green eyes, he was shocked to find an expression of unsure anticipation painted across his face. It was so unlike the demeanor he had exhibited all week, not at all congruent with the constant dismissal and pushing people away. But the implication was crystal: Jay wanted him to stay, wanted him close for once.
"Of course," he replied, slightly offended that his brother even had to ask, though he was fully aware of where the insecurity in the former ranger's tone came from. He watched as the tentative hope in his brother's face was replaced by relief and a hint of gratitude, the fleeting discomfiture gone. "I'll be on the couch. Holler if you need anything." With that he flipped of the light and left the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Equipped with a bedspread and a blanket from the hallway closet he transformed the couch into a makeshift bed, the throw pillows completing the picture. Only then did he become aware of the fact that he didn't have a change of clothes with him. But he didn't want to disturb his hopefully already sleeping brother just for the sake of having something comfy to sleep in. Discarding his tie as well as kicking off his shoes and dress pants would have to do. So, he did just that, then plopped down on the sofa and pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Natalie. She would be worried if he didn't check in with her, he'd promised after all.
Later, when the lights were off and he was lying on his back under the covers, he reminisced about Jay's question and the diffidence that had accompanied it. It admittedly had him stumped. He had never known Jay to be insecure, much rather he appeared to have a healthy amount of aplomb, coupled with a strong will and high moral standards that he never failed to advocate. He had adopted his strength and principles from their mother, but just like with her there was a tormented soul hidden beneath the surface never to be seen by anyone but Jay himself. Not even their mom had been privy to it all. To see the tough-guy façade slip, to see his brother so lost scared Will but strangely enough, it was also a concession on the brunette's part.
Jay might have pushed him away the previous days, he might have told him to leave, when all he had wanted was for him to stay. The epiphany hit deep. Ten years ago, when their mother had taken her final breaths, Jay had asked, no, begged his brother to come home and be there for them, only for him to brush him off and hide behind the excuse of having to work. He'd come home for the funeral, but he'd left just a couple days later, dismissing him once more in the most unforgiving way. Instead of helping him, he had left his brother to deal with their father's unhealthy coping methods on top of his own grief that was already preceded by the struggle of adapting to life at home after coming back from war. Will's actions back then had imprinted themselves in his little brother's mind, defining their relationship ever since and the doctor hated himself for putting the younger man through so much additional pain.
The damage had been done. He couldn't turn back time, he would simply have to live with the guilt. But there was a sliver of hope. Jay, by asking him if he would stay, had offered the olive branch to mend something that had seemingly been broken beyond repair. Even if it hadn't been vocalized in those exact words, he'd nonetheless expressed just how much he needed and more importantly wanted his big brother close. It would take some time and a lot of effort, but Will was inclined to put in the necessary work to make up for all the lost time and broken trust. He owed Jay as much.
We're nearing the end of the first act of the story with the next installment concluding that first part. Stay tuned to find out what happens.
Stay safe and healthy.