Wow! I didn't expect this story to be so well-received. Thank you for all the favorites/follows and lovely comments! You guys are amazing.
Special thanks to Floopdeedoopdee for letting me bounce off ideas, for proofreading, for her endless support and for being an overall amazing human being. You rock!
Anyway, here's chapter two for you. Dialogue in italics is taken from the actual dinner in 1x11 'Turn the Light Off'.
Dinner with the Corsons flooded Jay with a feeling of nostalgia. The lighthearted banter and soft laughter reminded him of the many evenings spent here in his youth, and as they shared stories about Ben's shenanigans, it almost felt like the boy was here with them, so much so that he almost forgot that he wasn't. Halstead let the fond and loving reminiscing wash over him for a moment. When he closed his eyes, it was so easy to imagine the child sitting in the chair right across from him, swinging his legs under the table, and he could almost feel the sock-clad feet kicking his shin to get his attention. He'd always pretended to be annoyed by it, even though he never really had been – something that the little rascal had known all too well.
A sad smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and tears pricked behind Jay's, but he blinked them away. He glanced at the framed photo on the wall behind the vacant seat instead, which had the dark blonde eight-year-old in it, a cheeky grin plastered on his face that proudly showed a huge gap where both his front teeth were missing. A picture so different from the image that still haunted his dreams. Ben had always been such a ray of sunshine, his presence lighting up the room everywhere he went. Always eager to tell everyone about the awesome adventures of his day, interlarded with the dorkiest and most mind-boggling details that had always filled the former ranger's heart with endless joy and brotherly affection.
God, he missed the little goofball. If it hadn't been for that kid, he would never have made it all the way back home after his second tour. Sure, each member of the family had helped him readjust to civilian life in one way or another, had dragged him out of that dark pit he'd been in. But Ben… Ben had been the one to remind him what it meant to live and laugh again. Only to…
Jay shook his head. No, he didn't want to go down that ugly road again, didn't want to remember the unpleasant memories of his time as a ranger, and he particularly didn't want to remember his cruel first months on the job. He pushed them to the back of his mind and tuned back into the conversation that took place in the here and now, just in time to hear the tail end of a statement that was apparently addressed to him. He hadn't caught the first half of it, but it turned out he didn't have to; the generous second helping landing on his plate said it all. Gaping at the food, he politely tried to decline. "Gail, I'm full," he laughed, but another overflowing spaghetti scoop had already joined the first. Jay could only stare at the large portion, wondering how he was supposed to eat up when he'd barely even managed to finish the first serving.
Unfazed by his comment, Mrs. Corson argued, "you look like you're wasting away." She'd never been one to lose an opportunity to let the detective know that she thought he was too thin and not eating enough, had made it her mission to remind him since he was fifteen. Jay recalled all too well how she had snuck containers full of leftovers into his backpack every single time he'd been over, thinking he wouldn't notice before he got home. What she didn't know: he had noticed, just never had the heart to tell her that she was busted. Well, he'd admittedly been scrawny as a teenager. On top of that, he'd been a terrible eater, often neglecting or skipping meals when things were rough at home, especially by the time his mom had fallen ill.
So, who could blame her? Her attempt to feed him up hadn't been by chance but rather well-founded; after all, she had just been looking out for him. Danny knew it too, thus, when he contributed to the conversation with a blithe, "you can't tell this woman no, Jay. You should have learned that by now," he couldn't help but join in his amused chuckles. Not just because it was true what he said, but also because this was the first time in a long time that he saw the older man truly relaxed, carefree even, and so heartwarming to witness it.
Despite it all, he couldn't bring himself to eat any more, his stomach doing somersaults from all the punches and kicks it had absorbed earlier. He gladly took Mr. Corson up on his offer to pour more wine, though. It probably wasn't wise to disgruntle his digestive tract any more than it already was, but he really couldn't care less right now. Taking stock of all his aches and pains – his head and cheek were drumming an angry beat, his ribs throbbed in sync with every breath he took, and the spasms in his back had increased to near excruciating levels by now, not to mention the intruding thoughts of his unit's betrayal added yet another level of anguish to the mix – he desperately hoped that the buzz of the alcohol would help numb all the above.
However, that hope quickly evaporated to dust the instant Allie annunciated that she'd be leaving the next day. It was yet another punch to the gut that left him speechless and spoiled whatever appetite he still had. After just one tiny nip that second glass of Cabernet ended up abandoned on the table and remained there for the rest of the evening, untouched as the food beside it. Maybe it was for the best, considering that he still had to drive himself home later.
With his elbows propped on the table holding most of his upper body's weight to alleviate the persistent pressure on his ailing back, Jay became mostly silent after hearing the news. He stuck to quiet observing and attentive listening to the Corsons' soothing voices around him after that. While he threw in the occasional sassy remark or seemingly effortless grin as he saw fit, his concentration and energy were progressively waning, the events of the day finally catching up to him. He knew he should probably call it a night and head home. However, he couldn't bring himself to leave this peaceful and loving familial moment. So, he waited.
By the time the laughter and chatter died down, it was close to midnight. Jay was secretly relieved that it was Allie who broke up the party because at this point, he didn't know if his back would tolerate just one more minute of him sitting in the same position. "I don't want to be a buzzkill," the blonde prefaced her announcement, "but I really should start packing. She grimaced and scrunched up her nose as she added, "my flight is leaving at six thirty in the morning." On cue, Gail nudged Danny with her elbow and urged him to get up to help her clear the table. Watching from across the table, Halstead couldn't help but feel like it was an employed ruse to give the two younger adults a moment alone. He wasn't wrong, and apparently Allie was in on it too, because as soon as they had retreated, she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Jay," she apologized, honest regret lacing her voice. "I…"
Collecting the remaining dirty dishes and stacking them in a neat pile, his own full plate on top, Jay shook his head. "It's okay," he assured her. Eyes cast down, he tried to school both his features and his emotions by meticulously aligning the cutlery – not that it helped. At last, he raised his gaze and searched her face, taking in the tilted head and doubtful expression. "Really, Allie, I get it. You don't have to explain anything. I know being here is painful for you." His eyes flickered towards Ben's picture on the wall, then back to her, swallowing the lump in his throat. "For many reasons." 'And I'm one of them,' his brain supplied unhelpfully, but Jay pushed the thought aside with a steadying exhale. "I'm just glad we had a chance to catch up," he continued instead, looking straight into her forest green eyes.
"Me too," Allie replied, smiling comfortingly as she held his gaze. Jay mirrored it with a small, genuine smile of his own, hoping it would mask his disappointment over her departure. The blonde saw right through his farce, though, and couldn't help but notice that the sparkle of mischief and excitement which she'd seen the previous night was no longer there. His Maui blue orbs were still glistening, but they were glistening with unshed tears, the mesmerizing blue-green dulled with a weary sadness and vulnerability that made her decidedly uncomfortable and repentant. After all, she was at least partially responsible for putting it there. Yet, despite her uneasiness, she couldn't bring herself to look away.
Loud clanking noises sounded from the kitchen, followed by Gail exasperatedly scolding Danny to be careful with the glasses, inadvertently yanking the former high school sweethearts from their little moment. "I think your dad needs help with the dishes," Jay commented with a soft chuckle and Allie agreed with a quiet laugh of her own. Straightening his back with a stifled wince, he added, "you go ahead and pack. I'll help them clean up before I set off as well," he offered and mentally prepared himself to get up. They both rose from their respective chairs, the detective's movements considerably slower, and he could barely suppress a pained grunt as stiff muscles and inflamed tissue protested the sudden shift of his posture. Carefully testing, stretching and realigning his frame, the former ranger locked eyes with Allie once more and cleared his throat. "Have a great flight tomorrow. And take care of yourself, Allie."
"Thanks," she replied. "You take care as well." Worrying her lips, the blonde shuffled her feet restlessly for a moment. Sensing her hesitance, Halstead closed the distance between them and wrapped her in an impossibly gentle hug, simultaneously providing and seeking comfort from their intimate embrace, notwithstanding the physical discomfort it brought him. Neither of them moved. Then, all too soon, Allie stepped away, only her right hand remaining on his left shoulder. She looked up at him, gaze lingering on his bruised and swollen face, and asked, "will you be alright, Jay?" He merely nodded and forced another smile, no longer trusting his voice. While she didn't believe him, she nodded along anyway, knowing that at least he had her parents; they would be there for him. So, she bestowed him with one final smile and a soft-spoken "goodnight," then left.
Jay watched as she departed the dining room and ascended the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the twinge in his heart that had nothing to do with his injuries. Once she was out of his sight, he closed his eyes briefly, taking as deep a breath as his many ailments allowed, and gathered the piled dirty dishes.
"Oh no, you don't, young man," Gail's voice suddenly sounded from his left. Jay jumped, unable to conceal a hiss as the unsuspected motion sent a searing spike of pain down his spine. Ignoring it, the former ranger opened his mouth in protest, but she gave him a pointed look, effectively cutting him off. Nevertheless, he tried to grab the dishes, only to have her slightly swat at his fingers while clucking her tongue. He halted his movements, frowning, but refused to let go, so Mrs. Corson placed a gentle hand on his forearm and forced him to meet her gaze. "Leave 'em," she directed, softening her tone as well as her gaze as she noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the fine lines of pain marring his face. The young man looked exhausted, not just the physical kind, the sight tugging at her heart. "You're tired and in pain and you don't need to exert yourself any more than necessary. Danny and I will take care of the dishes."
Jay dropped his hands and sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose with the thumb and index finger of his right hand, he eventually admitted defeat, much to Gail's delight. She took the stack of plates and jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen, indicating him to follow her. "C'mon. I'll pack you some leftovers," she bribed, teasing a genuine laugh out of him that sounded like music to her ears. Wanting to hear more of it, she continued, "I would sneak them into your bag like I used to do, but I doubt that still works, you know, with you being a former ranger and a detective." Another laugh erupted but died down when his ribs made themselves known. "Then again, it never really worked, now did it?" she asked, turning around for confirmation.
Cradling his side, he shook his head, mouth pressed into a tight-lipped grimace. Mrs. Corson was instantly concerned. She wanted to say something, but before she could, Jay cut her off. "I'm fine, Gail. Don't worry," he tried to reassure her, already knowing it wouldn't work. She was a mom; she'd be worried no matter what he said so any attempt to sway her was in vain. Not that it would stop him from trying. "I told you before, all it takes is your spaghetti and meatballs and I'd be…"
"That's bollocks and you know it," she cut him off, stopping in the doorway to turn around and look at him reproachfully. He slowed his steps as well, bowing his head contritely. "But that's not what I'm talking about. What I want to know is, how are things at work now that you're reinstated? Did your coworkers apologize for bailing on you when you needed their help the most?" Jay furrowed his brows in earnest confusion. He couldn't remember telling her any of the details about the whole clusterfuck surrounding Lonnie Rodiger's murder and he couldn't remember telling her about the suspension either. In fact, he was dead certain that he hadn't told her about it, could clearly recall sending her out of the room under a pretense before he had talked to… Danny. Of course. The married couple didn't keep secrets from one another; they told each other everything. He should have thought of that before.
Halstead looked past the redheaded woman, his gaze falling on Mr. Corson who stood hunched over the sink with his arms elbow-deep in dishwater. Upon feeling his eyes on him, Danny glanced up and at him, his grey orbs meeting Jay's weary Maui blues. One look at the tormented expression on his face and he knew what was going on. Danny exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, Jay. I shouldn't have told Gail what you told me in confidence," he apologized remorsefully. "But when you told me your team believed you had killed… that monster… and none of them had your back… And then you asked me whether I had done something…" He paused and stared at the dirty dishwater in front of him as if he hoped to find the strength to continue in there. "I had to tell her, Jay. I had to let her know that if push came to shove I would…" Danny's breath hitched with overwhelming emotion.
Seeing him struggle, Gail crossed the last steps that separated her and the kitchen counter. She abandoned the dishes, no longer caring about the loud clatter, and rushed to her husband's side, placing a comforting hand on his back, caressing it in a soothing up-and-down movement before she let it rest on his right shoulder. Mr. Corson sloppily dried his hand on his trousers and covered her hand with his own, their fingers intertwining in mutual support. Jay watched the interaction with an aching heart as the implication of Danny's revelation sank in. When it did, it hit him like a freight train, forcing all the air out of his lungs. "You didn't seriously consider turning yourself in, did you?" he asked shakily in a near whisper, his voice full of dread. Instead of answering, the married couple shared a knowing look. "Danny…" he gasped, tilting his head and twisting his face in anguish. "Why? I mean… Why would you…?"
"Because." Danny replied with confidence, as if the answer was self-evident. "Like I told you before, after everything you did, after everything you're still doing for us, for this family, it would have been the right thing to do." Mr. Corson turned his upper body to fully face him. "You dedicated the last seven years of your life to serving justice. For us. For Ben. You jeopardized your career to solve our boy's murder, to finally let him rest in peace. You did it selflessly, without the slightest hesitation and without ever asking for anything in return." The older man pierced Jay with a look of determination, his grey eyes overflowing with tears, gratitude, and love. "We owe you, Jay," he concluded with strong conviction. "We owe you so much. How could we ever repay you?"
I hope you enjoyed this one as much as the last one. Take care!