Happy belated Thanksgiving to all my American readers. I know it's a difficult time, especially around the holidays, but I hope and pray that you all still have a lot to be thankful for. I for one am incredibly thankful for all my readers out there, the reviews, the story favorites, the story follows. It means a lot.
Set in 2018, this chapter takes place a day after Pat's funeral reception. There's a lot of introspection on Will's part, but also a bit of brotherly interaction. This installment is more of a filler chapter, nothing special and I'm not entirely happy with it. Maybe you enjoy it anyway; I know some of you were looking forward to a Halstead brother chapter.
Chapter Nine
Don't Stray Away, For I Know You'll Turn and Run
First Aid Kit – Brother
The human body operated on an internal biological clock.
Sitting in the hypothalamus of the brain, a cluster of proteins known as the suprachiasmatic nucleus was responsible for regulating wakefulness and sleep. If left to its natural course this timer allowed a person to listen to and live by a twenty-four-hour cycle without the aid of an alarm. This circadian rhythm was set by signals of daylight and darkness; luminous stimulus tickling the bundle of thousands of cells and translating this data for various laymen parts of the brain. It essentially kicked the necessary biochemical reactions into motion. People grew tired as the pineal gland busied itself with the production of melatonin. Meanwhile, arousal centers tuned it down a notch. Reversely with the crack of dawn, the thalamus and midbrain, which mostly remained quiet during the night, reactivated themselves and brought people to a wakeful state. A recurring pattern if left to its innate concept.
However, external circumstances had the power to disrupt the biological clock and cause an imbalance between the phases of slumber and vigilance. Lack of physical activity or fresh air throughout the day or being exposed to artificial light sources from working inside or generally spending too much time in front of novel technology were common factors tampering with a person's wake-sleep cycle. Though for almost a fifth of the American population it was mainly thrown out of whack because of their jobs' nature. Shift changes and night work hindered them from establishing an instinctive rhythm.
As a doctor working in the emergency department of a hospital, Will was all too familiar with this. In med school he'd learned all about the chemical processes in the body, stages of sleep, sleep disorders and their causes. Plus, he had his personal experiences with it as well: the constant alternating between getting little to no sleep when he had to pull yet another double and the snoozing a whole day away when he had time off. After four years as a resident in Chicago's most frequented medical center, he was positive that due to the irregularities of his hours he was suffering from some kind or form of shift work sleep disorder – and he was just one of many doctors and nurses. Though he liked to think, his resulting sleeping problems weren't too bad since he usually only struggled when he was either extremely stressed or had a lot of shift changes in a short time span.
Jay was on another level entirely. He too was used to working odd hours, even less predictable than Will's for there were no actual shifts. The younger brother's job consisted largely of being summoned to the district or a scene whenever crime occurred. Offenders had no regards for law enforcer's beauty sleep, so the vast majority of the calls came in the middle of the night. Aside from those calls, there were also many instances in which the detective worked for days on end on time-sensitive cases, where the only rest to be had were random catnaps in the breakroom. If he was lucky. Nine to five office hours were exceedingly rare. For the elite unit Jay worked in they were pretty much nonexistent. His brother's schedule or lack thereof almost made Will's sometimes insane shifts look like a dreary office job.
In other words, the younger Halstead was used to sleeping in fluctuating intervals. He had the ability to function on a bare minimum of shuteye, and it had Will stumped sometimes on just how little sleep the other could and did get by on a regular basis. Some would say it stemmed from his time in the military, but the redhead knew better. Things had always been this way for the younger man.
Way back in their childhood, Jay's sleeping habits had frustrated him to no end. For valid reasons: his little brother, despite being a hyperactive kid always running around doing something, never seemed to tire. Which was why he had constantly tested the limits of his bedtime. Although their father had effectively put an end to the habit with a stern dressing-down one evening when the younger one wasn't even in pre-school yet, Will hadn't been so lucky in escaping his sibling's pestering. Behind closed doors, after lights-out, the bundle of energy had used all kinds of techniques to keep the older boy awake too. He would either throw pillows and stuffed animals to the top bunk, hit the slatted frame from below with his feet or climb up the ladder and point the bright spot of his flashlight right onto his face. He used to sigh purposely loud as well as he tossed and turned in his bed, rattling the frame of the entire bunk bed too. The most infuriating thing of it all was the fact that even though Jay had always stayed up well into the night, he'd always been the first one up the next morning, well-rested and chipper like a bird on the first warm day of spring.
By the time Will was well into second grade, he had basically begged his parents to finally grant him his own room. Unfortunately, the tiny house hadn't been blessed with a spare room that he could use and the Halsteads hadn't been able to afford a bigger house either. Thus, the older brother simply had had to grin and bear it and share with the annoying little brat from the moment Jay had been moved from the crib in their parent's bedroom to the very day the redhead had left for college. A grand total of fifteen years, five months and twenty-nine days or rather nights. Yes, Will had counted and he wasn't even ashamed to admit it.
He did, however, feel ashamed for the way he had treated his younger sibling back then. Especially in those earliest years Jay simply hadn't known what to do with his boundless energy. After all, he was barely older than a toddler at the time. Granted, Will was barely any older, so he wasn't supposed to know how much less equipped to handle the impersonated music box on a continuous loop.
There was one day in particular – Will must have been around eight or nine and Jay around six or seven – that stood out to the ginger, one that to this day he felt immensely guilty about. It was a memory so distinct that it could have been yesterday: in true fashion, the youngest Halstead had been awake long before the sun had risen over the horizon. In all his exuberance, he'd jumped on his older brother's bed to wake him up. He couldn't remember why, but for some reason Will had been irater by it than usual and ended up pushing the scrawnier kid off the ladder with a bit too much force. He had laid into him, yelled at him for being such a freaking pain in the ass all the time. His verbal barrage had gone on for a while, all his pent-up frustration over his baby brother's insomniac habits unleashed in that moment, and it continued even when Jay had been frozen minutes later, still sat on the floor unmoving, both shocked into speechlessness as well as dazed from hitting his head on his way down.
No serious damage had been done. Though there had been a tiny bleeding laceration, it had clotted in no time on its own and Jay hadn't even had a concussion. And yet, a lot a changed after that incident. The younger boy, while still the same whirlwind as before, had been a lot less obnoxious. He had also been just a tad wearier and somewhat timid around Will from then on. Instead of annoying him at night, he had started reading his books quietly under the tented blanket of his own bed so as not to disturb his big brother's sleep. Instead of waking him at the crack of dawn, he had silently left the confines of their room to play by himself in the parlor, which was replaced by early morning runs and preparing hearty breakfasts for the whole family as he migrated into his teenage years.
Decades later and with years of experience as a doctor under his belt, the redhead knew that Jay's inability to sleep past six hours a night wasn't just a ridiculous habit. It was likely a mild form of a medical condition called short sleeper syndrome. His brother simply didn't need more sleep. And while irritating for someone who had to share the same room with him throughout their entire childhood and adolescence, it had certainly worked in the former ranger's favor when it came to his career choices. Especially on the perilous frontlines of Afghanistan where he'd basically been forced to sleep with one eye open at all times. It certainly helped with the crazy hours of a police detective on the dangerous streets of Chicago too.
And yet, knowing that his brother could easily function on little rest never put him at ease. Jay might not need more than six hours of sleep per night, but he certainly needed more than the average four he got. Will was aware that aside from the circumstances of his job, not even on the rare quiet days in the Intelligence Unit did his brother allow himself the luxury of shutting his mind off for a while and catch up on the missing hours of rest. There was always this perpetual alertness, this jaded vigilance in his slumber. Jay didn't ever talk about his bouts of insomnia, which were undoubtedly triggered by nightmares and night terrors, but the doctor had witnessed them on occasion.
He wasn't even surprised: the younger Halstead was bound to have amassed an impressive scope of horrible memories from both his two tours overseas and as a cop. Sometimes the ginger wondered whether having to work tirelessly on intense cases only to crash from sheer exhaustion once crimes were solved was more of a blessing in disguise for Jay. Whether the fatigue permitted the former ranger to get through the night just a smidgen more peacefully on those days. But sometimes he also wondered how long the human body could operate like this. How long would it take for his brother to drop from the gossamer enervation he put himself under all the time? He'd been close once not too long ago, thankfully managed to climb out of that particularly deep hole in huge parts thanks to Voight's but mostly Hailey's tough love and persistence. His brother had worked hard on getting better and he had come out on top of his demons. But he'd also experienced yet two more devastating losses since then and Will couldn't help but notice the whispers of nagging worry at the back of his mind once more.
This morning, his concern increased, sparked by the fact that it was already going on seven thirty and he had yet to hear or see any sign of consciousness from his brother's bedroom. While logically this should put the older Halstead at ease considering it also assured him that the detective hadn't been in the throes of one of his many incubi, it was incredibly out of character for Jay. Under normal circumstances the younger man would already have an hour long run or gym session under his belt this time of day. He'd be showered, dressed, stuffed with a healthy breakfast rich in proteins and fueled by his morning coffee and residual adrenaline, ready to head out. Will had crashed on the couch enough times to know his brother's routine by heart, had been woken by running water, clattering dishes and the sizzling of eggs in a pan on the stove dozens of times. Not today though.
Pushing the lingering disquiet to the farthest corners of his brain, Will allowed himself to relish the rare occurrence of being the first to be awake. He stretched contently, bent his back until he heard and felt the satisfying pop of something in his spine snapping back into its rightful place and rose from the sofa respective makeshift bed. He was still in his crispy, now wrinkled dress shirt from the funeral, his unappealing attire completed with the day-old boxer briefs. The doctor was in dire need of a change of clothes and, judging from the whiff he caught of himself, a shower too. Unfortunately, Will was separated from both by the bedroom still occupied by his still sleeping brother. In order to freshen up, he would inevitably have to disturb Jay.
Not for the first time the redhead realized just how much of a design flaw the whole apartment was. It was not at all considerate of the fact that normal people occasionally had friends over and that they might not want their guests to pass through their most private room for something as basic as using the lavatory.
Chuckling to himself, he opened the door carefully. His eyes fell on the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest under the rumpled sheets. Even in deep sleep a frown adorned the detective's forehead, telltale sign that Jay's night might not have been as tranquil as Will first assumed. He sighed internally, forced himself to resist the urge to walk over and smooth out the creases on his brother's features, knowing fully well that the former ranger didn't like being touched without warning, least of all when he wasn't fully conscious. So instead of doing that, the older man tiptoed his way to the adjacent bathroom on sock-clad feet and closed the door as quietly as possible, unaware that despite his extreme caution the miniscule click of the lock woke the younger.
Will was surprised to find a stack of folded fresh clothes waiting for him on the toilet seat when he stepped out of the warm spray ten minutes later. Here he had thought he'd been stealthy, but it was proven once more: nothing went unnoticed by the former ranger. Shaking his head, he quickly dried off and put the clean garments on. He had a couple inches on the detective thus they were a tight fit, but it wasn't lost on Will that Jay had been mindful enough to pick his loosest-fitting jeans, an oversized White Sox tee and a dark-grey zip-up hoodie for him to wear. Not the doctor's everyday attire but comfortable enough.
Running a towel through his dripping red locks he emerged from the en-suite. As expected, the bedroom was empty, Jay's bed already made to military precision. Will shook his head in amazement, never fully understanding the younger man's incessant need for immaculateness. Curtains were opened as were the windows, a pungent petrichor breezing in. He closed his eyes momentarily, inhaling the pleasant smell. As he did, a hint of another stimulating aroma tickled his nostrils, mixing with the scent of the rain. The coffee machine spluttered enthusiastically somewhere in the apartment; the clanking of coffee mugs complemented the alluding melodic sounds in pretense of a perfect start into the day. Towel still in hand, he rounded the pillar into the small kitchen space, finding his brother there with disheveled brown curls and rumpled nightwear. "Good morning," he greeted him, carelessly dropped the damp cloth on the counter and leisurely leaned his hip against the pass-through. "Thanks for the clothes."
Jay turned around, nodding briefly. "You're welcome." His eyes fell first on the ginger, then the towel, before resting on him again. He arched a disapproving brow, waiting for him to reclaim it, which he did with an exaggerated eye roll. Satisfied with this, the younger man offered his own curt, "morning." He put the mugs in front of him and turned around to retrieve a container from the refrigerator door, the coffeemaker meanwhile letting out a row of exited burps crescendoing into a drawn-out hiss to announce its finale.
"Just in time," Will commented, referring to his impeccable timing of finishing his shower. He grabbed the pot and poured black liquid in both cups. Jay added a healthy amount from the carton into his, then handed it to his brother. Reading the label, the older man grimaced. "What's with you and almond milk? I swear, you're literally the only person in the whole world who drinks this stuff," he complained. He splashed a tiny spatter into his own coffee anyway just because he hated to drink it black. Taking a sip, he pulled a face, pretending to be disgusted by the taste even though he could barely make out the flavor.
The younger Halstead shrugged his shoulders and smirked, lifting his own mug to hide his amusement. He let the hot lifeblood wash down his throat and esophagus, breathing in the comforting earthy aroma, instantly regretting the deep inhale. Unable to keep from wincing as the inflation of his lungs elicited a flaring pain in his ribs, he tried to conceal his momentary lapse by moving around. Jay didn't want to draw unwanted attention from Will first thing in the morning. But no matter how cautiously he moved, he could already feel the scrutinizing eyes of the doctor on him. Leaning against the counter next to his brother, he hunched into himself ever so slightly to ease the strain on his aching ribcage. He tried to act casual, but it was in vain; the other had already picked up on his discomfort.
"You okay?" the older brother inquired, never capable of fully shutting off the medical professional in him. He'd noticed the exceptional sparseness of words from Jay. The former ranger wasn't the biggest conversationalist in the morning despite him being an early bird, so silence wasn't uncommon. Come to think of it, the detective wasn't much of a talker in general, hated to fill empty space with mindless small talk and chatter, but he was nimble-witted if he wanted to be. And they'd usually at least exchange a little bit of brotherly banter over breakfast. While Will could easily put his brother's quiet today down on him still being tired and dreading the promised trip to the hospital, he also knew that the younger man tended to retreat into himself even more whenever he wasn't feeling well. Hell, he'd done it all of the last week.
He frowned at his brother, whose reaction was just what the ginger anticipated: annoyed and dismissive. The brunette threw his head back and huffed in exasperation, a cynical grumble vibrating in his vocal cords. "There goes my five minutes of peace and quiet." Jay adjusted his stance, back stiffened with tension as he erected his protective walls around him. Shifting his cup to one hand he lifted the other to his face and dug his thumb and index finger painfully on either side of the bridge of his nose. It was when the younger man dropped his hand again that the redhead noticed the fine creases of pain lingering around the edges of his brother's eyes as well as the clamminess of still too pale skin. The detective clearly wasn't well.
Will shook his head in sadness. "That's what you get for letting yourself get shot and not taking your meds," he countered, a trace of humor overshadowed by his concern. "Speaking of," the doctor put his own mug down and moved to the other side of the kitchen. He opened and closed the hanging cupboard before rattling the orange bottles the younger man loathed so much mockingly. The irritated growl from the former ranger went ignored as the older Halstead ran a glass under the faucet and thrust it in from of the detective in silent prompting.
Jay stared blankly at him through narrowed eyes but made no attempt to grab the water from his waiting hand. "Don't need them," he gritted out stubbornly and averted his gaze, sipping his coffee in bogus insouciance. He knew his petulant manner to be childish, was aware that his brother wouldn't relent but he wanted to knock out just that extra minute of granted amnesty. It wasn't like he would be getting much of that once they were on their way to the hospital.
Oblivious to his brother's intentions the redhead glanced up at him, both eyebrows arched. "I believe you do," he insisted, not budging in the slightest and unwilling to let himself be dragged into a lengthy discussion about the necessity of medication. Will laboriously shook the tiny white pills out of the containers with one hand and held them in front of his brother's nose. "Take 'em." The instruction left no room for debate, yet Jay remained stoic. The older Halstead felt his patience slowly waning.
"I'm okay Will. There's really no need for those," his little brother brushed him off, nodding towards the tablets in the other man's open palm. Feeling cockier and more defiant than the night before, he dared taking his noncompliance one step further despite the increasing scowl on the doctor's face. "Actually, there's no need to go to the hospital either. Sleeping helped a lot. I'm fine, really." He wasn't fine, but Jay would never admit that out loud. While Will's persistence was touching, it was also a cruel reminder of the many times in which the ginger couldn't be bothered with him in the past. Sure, he had grown to be more responsible and more supportive of his little brother. Yet sometimes the younger man wished the older would go back to his former dismissive ways.
Jay was accustomed to taking second billing to everything and everyone, had come to terms with the fact a long time ago, almost relished in it nowadays as it usually got people off his back faster. But this new reformed version of his brother was something he didn't know how to deal with. It forced him to confront emotions and memories buried deep inside him, some of which had already been dredged up by their father's death. That alone was scary enough. He didn't want Will to push, didn't want him to dig deeper into those pits, because he knew some of the truths to be harsh and unforgiving. He didn't want to reveal them out of fear that they might cause his brother to run from him once more and he didn't know if he could take losing his big brother again. Hence his reluctance to taking the offending pain medication. Jay was aware of his hypersensitivity towards them and the tongue-loosening effect they had on him. They would undeniably make it that much harder for him to protect Will from the bitter verities scattered in his brain.
Then there was also the anxiety of being pushed away regardless. Events from a decade ago, Will's leaving and his father's belittlements, had fed his insecurities and manifested abandonment issues. Those weren't easy to overcome. So, Jay very much preferred to keep all this to himself. Both to protect others but also himself from any additional heartbreak. He'd endured so much of that over the years; he didn't know how much more he could take.
"Nuh uh-uh," Will tutted scornfully, completely in the dark about the thoughts invading the detective's mind. He would have raised a reproachful finger at his brother too, if only he had a hand free. "Don't you dare argue with me Jay. I can see that you're in pain. I am a doctor, remember?" He received a halfhearted eye roll. "And before you even think about saying anything else, I know you've had worse." 'Sure you do,' Jay thought to himself sardonically, shaking his head slightly but thankfully the older man missed it. Or maybe he simply ignored it. "I know you can handle yourself. But you don't have to and you're most definitely not going to. Not on my watch anyway. Not if I have a say in it. So just take the damn pills already."
It took all the former ranger's willpower not to scoff at that. "Will," the brunette attempted instead, but the redhead shook his head vehemently, a glower plastered on his features. As if to prove his current superiority as well as the truth of his statement he intentionally pushed the cup of water into his brother's chest, using a little more force than necessary. It drew a betraying hiss from the younger Halstead's lips. With an angry grunt Jay set the coffee mug on the counter, brown liquid sloshing over the rim from the brute mishandling. He snatched the offending tablets from his doctor's palm and washed them down with a large gulp of water, eyes never leaving the older man. He childishly opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to assure him that he had indeed swallowed the meds.
The doctor chuckled, amused by his brother's antics. "Atta boy," he cooed, but Jay was far from being in a humorous mood. Fury was blazing in his gaze; proverbial daggers were thrown at Will. His lower jaw protruded, and his lips were pursed as he fetched his coffee off the counter and chugged the remaining contents of the mug down in one go. Only once it was empty did he break eye contact with the other. The cup was discarded in the sink, the spilled remnants of coffee were wiped up with a paper towel – because even angry Jay hated leaving a mess behind – and words of wanting to take a shower were begrudgingly muttered before the detective vanished from the kitchen.
"Holler when you're done, so that I can…" Cut off by the bedroom door slamming shut behind his little brother, Will never got to finish his sentence. The ginger shook his head, finding himself in a weird state in between feeling victorious and repentant. "…change your dressing," he finished to himself with a sigh, realizing that just like he had expected things wouldn't go as smoothly as they had the previous night. He debated going after him to check on him but wisely decided against it, allowing the other to cool off a bit. Even after what he had hoped had been replenishing sleep, Jay was as irritable and stubborn as ever. The impending follow-up was bound to be nerve-racking and the doctor wasn't looking forward to it.
As not to infuriate the younger Halstead even further by leaving the dishes to him, Will busied himself with cleaning. He threw the soggy coffee dripper into the bin, rinsed the pot as well as his and Jay's mugs, drying them with the kitchen towel and put away the carton of almond milk, taking stock of the fridge as he did. Pleasantly surprised to find it filled to the brim with healthy and fresh produce and satisfied with the state the kitchen was in, he permitted himself a small reprieve by lounging on the couch whilst his brother got ready. Gathering the much-needed perseverance that he was sure would be needed for the visit to the hospital.
Next installment is set in 2008. It focuses on Jay and Will yet again and marks a key moment in their relationship. Stay tuned.
Stay safe and healthy!