Hey there. This chapter, more specifically the last leg of it, was a pain in the butt. If it wasn't for Floopdeedoopdee, it would have taken me ages to finish it, but her wisdom, her insight, and her perseverance helped me push through it and still get this out today (or tonight in my case).
I should issue a warning that this is not exactly a Lindsay-friendly story. My apologies to all Erin and Lindstead fans out there. It wasn't my intention to bash her character per se, but the story had a mind of its own and made her a lot bitchier than I originally intended for her to be. Sorry guys, but that's just how art works sometimes.
Anyway, here's the next chapter. I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this.
Enjoy!
The bullpen was still empty and cast in gloomy darkness by the time Jay made his agonizing trip up the stairs, the only light coming from the dim lamps lining the street outside the building and the artificial ceiling lights in the back hallway. Guilt instantly crept back in as the thought crossed his mind that the team was apparently still out in the freezing cold working the scene. Maybe he should have joined them there after all, despite Erin telling him to meet them in the precinct instead. Not that it would have changed much about his current predicament. These days it really didn't matter what he did; it would be wrong either way and he had the funny feeling that this was incontrovertibly one of those cases where he'd be damned if he did and damned if he didn't.
With a heavy sigh Halstead stumbled his way into the open space office, clutching onto walls and furniture within easy reach for support. Dizziness swept over him when he finally reached his cubicle. He felt a bit like he was on a ship out on the high sea during a thunderstorm, tossed around and slapped by stiff gales and boisterous waves – a grotesquely accurate description of what his life felt like right now if he thought about it.
Leaning on his desk, he wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest for a moment, but with the team still out, he was too anxious and guilty to give in to the need, knowing if he did, he wouldn't be able to get up again. And if he didn't get up again, his coworkers would put it down to him being lazy. He had to prove though that he wasn't lazy, that he was both willing and capable of doing his fucking job even with the injuries plaguing him. So far, he didn't know yet how he was going to convince them of that, but he would find a way, no matter the cost. He always did, right?
Jay turned on the small lamp on his desk and granted himself no more than ten seconds of a reprieve, then pushed himself off the sturdy table and staggered his way to the breakroom to get the first pot of coffee started. It was the least he could do after letting them all hanging. Supply them with the high doses of caffeine that were required to get them through what would likely be one of those long ass days that left them all exhausted and craving for a good night's sleep. Maybe, just maybe it would help him get back on their good side, too. Though, as soon as that last thought entered his mind, the detective shook his head and berated himself for it, realizing just how stupid, how naïve it was for him to hope that brewing coffee for them all would erase all his recent slip-ups or for them to consider him a valuable member of their team. Wishful thinking, that's what it was, nothing more.
Muffled voices and thudding boots carried up the stairs and pulled him from his self-deprecating spiral. Simultaneously, the coffee maker gurgled and sputtered its final drops into the glass pot. From the corner of his right eye, Jay caught a glimpse of familiar wavy shoulder-length golden hair in the distance as it bounced in sync with its owner's footsteps. Grabbing a clean mug from the dishrack, he poured some of the dark-brown sludge and stirred a splash of sugar into it, just the way he knew his partner liked it. "Hey," he greeted her when she walked up to him, his voice soft and rueful as he timidly glanced up at her through his lashes. His mouth twitched in the saddest excuse of a smile as he handed her the mug. It was his way of a peace offering. "Erin," he started, licking his lips, "I'm sorry I didn't…"
But the rest of his attempted apology caught in his throat when his partner merely snorted derisively and rolled her eyes before she snatched the beverage from his outstretched hand with a little more force than necessary. Unwilling to listen to anything he had to say to her, she spun around on her heels and stalked back out of the kitchenette without a single word. Even after reading Lindsay's less than friendly text messages, the fact that she didn't even deign to look at him stung a lot more than he would like to admit. He really had pissed her off, hadn't he? He huffed to himself in condemnation as he racked up yet another failure to add to the ever-growing collection.
Defeated and overcome by the unwanted pang of rejection in his chest, he visibly deflated and hunched his shoulders. When even the smallest movement sent a burning pain down his spine, he braced himself against the counter, not even noticing the person trudging into the breakroom until they started complaining rather loudly about the early morning wake-up call. "Christ, it's way too early to function without coffee," Adam groaned as he shuffled over. "Remind me to always have one brewed and ready to go at all times from now on."
Joining him at the coffee machine, Ruzek grabbed himself a mug and reached past the detective and for the steaming pot, pouring himself some of the lifesaving brew. "I really hope you made this one extra strong. I'm for sure gonna need that today," Adam moaned, adding a generous amount of cream and sugar to the coffee before taking a trial sip, humming as she did. "Damn, that's perfect," he purred, gulping down more of his hot syrupy liquid only to fill it right back up to the brim, chummily clapping Jay on the back as he did. "Halstead, you're my man," he hailed over his shoulder as he left. He was blatantly oblivious to both the former ranger's sharp intake of air when the rookie's flat palm connected with his vertebrae as well as the fine tremor whirring through his entire body.
The brunette closed his eyes for a moment and tried to breathe through the pain, but the spikes just kept coming, running through him like tiny little electric currents. His desperation increased even more when the buzz of the gate and an all too familiar heavy footfall alerted him to Voight's arrival. Jay needed to get his bearings, stat. "Morning, Kid," Al's even-keeled baritone sliced through his rising panic, startling him. He hadn't even heard him enter – not that he was surprised; Olinsky was stealthy like that, after all, he was military-trained just like himself. "We missed you at the scene. Everything alright?" the older man inquired, feigning nonchalance. Though Halstead could have sworn he heard a hint of fatherly concern in the older man's voice. It caused his breath to stutter briefly and nearly brought tears to his eyes when he offered an imperceptible nod in reply.
Worried about the lack of a verbal response, the seasoned detective tilted his head and studied the kid's face a little more closely. Jay was ghostly pale, with his jaw locked and creases of pain around tired eyes that were tightly squeezed shut. That's when he noticed the angry dark purple coloring on the left side of his cheek, from his temple across his cheekbone and all the way to his mandibular joint. Alvin had seen the faint outline of a shiner in its earliest stage the previous night, but the distinct shape and indents of the footprint of a heavy boot were only just now visible and painted an alarming picture of how brutal the fight must have been.
As bad as it looked, though, he doubted it was the main cause for the younger officer's obvious discomfort. The kid's muscles were taut, on the verge of snapping, his knuckles white from gripping the counter way too hard, and he was overall shaky on his pins. And the sole fact that Jay failed to hide any of the physical manifestations from him was a surefire indicator of how terrible he must really feel because in the few months he'd known him, the former ranger had never allowed himself to appear weak in front of any of them. Something was seriously wrong, Olinsky just knew it. But before he had a chance to broach the subject, Voight burst into the room and stormed towards Halstead, towering over him, ready to rip him a new one.
Jay instinctively tried to pull himself up straighter and face his boss, the obligation to stand at attention forever ingrained into the soldier ever since his first day at boot camp. With the overwhelming agony surging through his spine upon moving, he failed horribly in his struggle to keep himself vertical. For Al it was nevertheless remarkable to watch that the kid wouldn't let the pain stop him from trying. But before he could reflect upon it further, Voight's crimson face was mere inches from the ailing man's right cheek, reaming him out. "Think you get a free pass, don't have to show up to crime scenes because you dated Antonio's sister?" he bellowed. An icy shudder ran down the detective's neck, and his eyes fleetingly flickered towards O to ground himself. Unfortunately, the sergeant caught it and drew the wrong conclusions. "Or because Al has a soft spot for veterans, is that it?"
The detective shook his head, furrowing his brows. If he weren't in a world of pain and too focused on not making a sound of discomfort, he would have argued in Olinsky's defense, but with his mouth clamped shut, the tiny movement was all he could muster right now. "You don't!" Voight answered for him, sprinkling the former ranger's cheek with flying droplets of spittle. "Unlike everyone else in this unit, you didn't earn your way through those gates. And after all the shit you pulled lately, you're the last member of this team to get a free pass around here, you hear me?" he spat, fury and animosity dripping from his every word, and when Jay wouldn't meet his eyes or acknowledge in any other way that he had even heard him, his anger climaxed in a fulminating thunder. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
No longer able to control his irascibility, Voight reached for Halstead's collar to physically force the young man to face him, causing Jay to flinch ever so slightly. Before he could get a hold of it, Al smacked Hank's hand away and stepped in between the enraged sergeant and the trembling detective, thereby shielding the latter from the Intelligence leader's erratic behavior. With his back to Voight, Olinsky observed his protégé's reaction closely. Aside from gritting his teeth impossibly harder and biting down on his lips hard enough to draw blood, he was shocked to see tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and down his scrunched-up face. His stomach twisted at the heartbreaking sight. The ranger was clearly in a world of pain.
"Hey, hey Kid, talk to me. What's wrong?" he asked him gently but with a decent amount of urgency behind his words. No answer was coming but upon closer inspection the experienced cop noticed how Jay's back was arched in a spasmic, rather painful looking way. "Your back?" he surmised but still didn't receive an affirmation, so he pressed, "Kid, is it your back?" The nod was barely perceptible, but Alvin caught it, nonetheless. "How bad is it? Do you want to sit down? Can you walk?" By way of a reply, the brunette tried to take a single step away from the kitchen counter, but his knees immediately buckled beneath him.
He would have tumbled to the floor if it hadn't been for the older man's surprisingly strong hands thwarting his fall in time. "Easy, Jay, easy," O murmured reassuringly as he looped his hand under Halstead's armpits and around his back. He could feel the pronounced tremor running down the kid's spine as well as the soft rumble of a soundless pained groan beneath his fingers. "That's it. I'm taking you to the hospital." Lacking the energy and physical strength to protest, Jay gave in and leaned heavily into Olinsky's side, letting himself be led towards the exit. Despite his better judgement, Jay released a relieved sigh to voice his gratitude over having at least someone's – Al's – support in all this, which was so much more than he could have and had hoped for when he'd entered the precinct earlier.
They made it halfway across the breakroom, their pace excruciatingly slow and each step one of pure agony for Halstead, when Voight stormed past them and rooted himself to the spot right on the threshold, effectively blocking their path. "What, you decide not to show up at the scene because you got a couple aches and pains, is that it? You leave this team hanging for a Godforsaken black eye?" he bellowed in a gravelly high pitch, any rational thought having left him at this point. "Hell, Ruzek got it worse than you and he was the first to arrive at the scene, with a concussion might I add. Adam didn't even graduate the academy, yet he's more of a detective than you. At the very least he's a team player! But you," he pointed a finger at Jay, champing with rage. "You're a disgrace to this unit, you…"
"Enough!" Al roared before Voight could hurl even more violent insults at the undeserving officer. All heads immediately whipped around and stared at him with their mouths agape because none of them had ever heard the usually soft-spoken man raise his voice like that. Even the Intelligence leader was abruptly stunned into speechlessness but recovered quick enough to conceal his surprise. While he wisely kept his mouth shut, his lips pressing into an angry thin line, the Intelligence leader unfortunately didn't move. He merely adjusted his stance and arched his eyebrows, staring at his second-in-command and daring him to pick a quarrel with him.
But Olinsky wasn't intimidated, repudiated the challenge instead because right now, all he cared about was saving Jay from any further humiliation. He refused to stand idly by for another second and wouldn't allow Hank to lay into and castigate his young friend in front of the whole unit any longer. As a fellow soldier, he considered it his obligation to speak up on behalf of the kid when the former ranger couldn't do it himself, especially since nobody else seemed willing to jump to his defense – a fact that aggrieved the seasoned detective immensely. "Jay is obviously in great pain, so just back the hell off and let me take him to a hospital where he can get checked out properly," he growled dangerously low, his dark eyes pervasive and unblinking as they locked onto the sergeant.
Voight's own stormy grey orbs glowered back at him, eyelids twitching ever so slightly. Eventually, he gave up and averted his gaze to scrutinize Halstead. He must have spotted something that unsettled him enough to finally step aside and let them pass through, though he clearly wasn't happy about it. "Fine then," he grumbled contritely and walked towards his private office. Halting his steps in the doorway, he lingered just long enough to bark a cantankerous order at Lindsay. "Erin, you're his partner. You take him. I need Al here," then slammed the door behind him with a lot more force than necessary, leaving her to stare after him with a shocked, downright scandalized expression.
Displeased and frustrated with his long-time friend for his erratic and irrational behavior, Olinsky heaved a sigh. Frankly, there was nothing he could do about the sergeant's piss-poor mood right now. Besides, he had other priorities. So, he glanced over at the fuming female officer who didn't even seem to show the slightest inclination to follow through with the task she'd been given and called out to her. "Erin," Lindsay looked up at him, an angry scowl still plastered on her face. "Why don't you go ahead and pull the car around while I help Jay down the stairs?" he suggested, not unkindly so. She merely sniffed at that, not even trying to hide how peeved she was about the assignment. Nevertheless, she snatched her parka and stalked off with another outraged huff. Saddened by her reaction, Al shook his head.
Luckily, Jay was too busy concentrating on staying on his feet to notice her display of petulance, at least it seemed that way. Or maybe, and O realized that this was much more likely, he pretended not to notice. One never knew with the kid. After all, Halstead was a master of disguise when it came to pain or personal feelings.
Shivers wracked Halstead's lanky frame like earthquakes as they lumbered on, the kid's movements stiff and cautious and accompanied by the occasional stifled hiss, and not for the first time this morning Alvin wondered what injuries were hidden underneath the brunette's hoodie that caused him so much discomfort. He didn't ask, merely shuffled him along in silence. They were almost at the stairs when Jay swayed, then staggered on wobbly feet, struggling to keep his legs under him. Olinsky tucked him a little closer into his side to steady him and adjusted his hold, preparing to take more weight off the ailing soldier's back.
It was when they descended the first step and the brunette faltered again, unable to hold back a pained grunt this time, that Al began to second-guess his decision to drive the former ranger to the hospital instead of just calling an ambulance for him because at this point, he seriously doubted the kid would even make it safely to the first landing. While Halstead's slender frame gave the impression that he was a lightweight, his body was all muscles. If he lost his balance, there was no way he could thwart his fall. Thus, if he wanted to get him all the way down to the car, he needed to enlist some help even if it was just a precaution. Looking over his shoulder, he searched the bullpen for Antonio or Adam, but before he could call either of them over, Sumner had already jumped up from behind her desk and took Jay's other side.
"Here, let me help," she offered, already slipping in under his left arm. Al's left eyebrow twitched in a minute frown at her immediate voluntary assistance considering she was the one he least expected to come to their aid. But he quickly schooled his features to cover up his surprise and nodded his approval. Loosening his grip on the younger detective ever so slightly, he allowed her to get a better hold on the wavering man, the two of them distributing his weight equally between them. Once he was secured in their midst, they advanced their agonizingly slow descent.
The closer they got to the foot of the stairs, the heavier Jay leaned on them both, too drained to put on a brave face in front of them any longer. Exchanging a fleeting concerned look with Mia, Alvin cast a sidelong glance at Halstead, noting the fine sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead and the ashen skin, no color left in it at this point. His breathing came in labored wheezy pants, way too shallow for Olinsky's liking, the physical exertion jarring the brunette's maltreated body and draining his last energy reserves. "Almost there, Kid," O soothed, his voice ever mild-mannered, but couldn't help but ask a worried, "you need a break?" The ranger's miniscule shake of the head was unconvincing, yet Al decided not to probe, understanding the younger man's need to keep moving.
By the time they reached the roll-up, Jay practically vibrated with the intense searing pain ripping through him. He struggled with the mere act of putting one foot in front of the other, and despite him trying his best to hold his own, Olinsky and Sumner had to take most of his weight at this point. Alarmed by his shakiness, the senior detective ushered them the remaining steps towards the Chrysler and propped the veteran against the vehicle as soon as they got there, motioning for the female to open the passenger door for them. With combined forces, they helped the former ranger into the seat – an arduous task for the kid that was accompanied with pained groans and grimaces, followed by one particularly heartbreaking whimper when he had to lift his right foot into the legroom.
"You know, you should have told me you were injured," Erin admonished from the driver's seat once Jay's entire five-foot-ten frame was settled into the passenger seat. Too caught up in the maelstrom of his agony, Halstead simply couldn't bring himself to pay any attention to her reprimand, though. He merely leaned back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and concentrated on his breathing, nostrils flaring with each superficial inhale. Exasperated by his lack of a reply, Lindsay jutted her jaw and narrowed her eyes, watching in annoyance as Al leaned over the ailing man and helped him with the seatbelt. It didn't even occur to her to offer any assistance, leaving O to wonder whether she was truly that oblivious or purposely insensate about their colleagues misery. He received an answer not a minute later when she continued, "you're supposed to trust me with this stuff. We're partners."
Olinsky frowned upon hearing the venom dripping from her words and paused in his mission to get Jay buckled in when he felt the kid stiffen. Had he not been leaning over the ailing detective with his left ear mere inches from his face, he would have missed the disenchanted whisper escaping his mouth. "I thought so too." Al studied his young friend, noting the prominent lines of pain on his ghostly pale face, mixing with a clouded look of utter defeat, and doubted the brunette was even aware he'd said them out loud. Quelling a heavy sigh, he finished securing the belt, lingering inside the vehicle just long enough to direct a pointed look at the female detective that went straight over her head, and backed out of the car.
Unfortunately, Alvin wasn't the only one who heard the veteran mutter under his breath. Lindsay didn't catch what exactly her partner had said, nevertheless, she had no problem letting him know just how outraged she was that he dared to rebuke her at all. "What was that?" she asked, her voice rising at least an octave from her usual deep gravelly alto. Chastising himself for his involuntary slip of tongue, Jay dismissed her with a dejected huff and a shake of his head. Misinterpreting the sound, she laid further into him. "What? Nothing to say?" Halstead simply closed his eyes in resignation, effectively shutting her and everything else around him out.
Infuriated by his refusal to talk to her, Erin glared at him for a second, then, feeling eyes on her, glanced up at Al who stared right back at her through the open passenger door. Incredulity and disappointment marked his features. "What?" she challenged, failing to see why either would be directed at her, being completely ignorant of any wrongdoing on her end. Olinsky's silence spoke volumes and felt like betrayal. Bristling, she got out of her car in a moment of madness, intent on leaving the lot. She didn't even care that she was about to disobey a direct order given to her by Voight when she walked away. Belatedly realizing that she'd plugged the car keys from the ignition on her agitation, she backtracked just enough to thrust them at her female colleague. "Here, you drive him," she spat, and with a glance over her shoulder added, "I can't deal with him right now," making sure he heard every word she said. Pursing her lips and raising her chin, she stalked off.
Sumner watched her leave, stunned by what she had just witnessed. Blinking, she turned around towards the Chrysler only to find O looking at her with a strange expression on his scruffy face, both disgruntled and saddened at the same time. Knowing that neither emotion was directed at her, she held his gaze with her blank mask firmly in place, arching her eyebrows in a silent request for orders from the senior detective. Instead of giving her one right away, he studied the former ranger and hoped his closed eyes meant he'd finally slipped into pain-induced oblivion if only for a short while and only for the sake of escaping the excruciating agony he seemed to be in. "Take him to the hospital," Al instructed, his voice low at the off chance that Jay was indeed unconscious. With a sad smile and crippled chuckle, he added, "make sure the kid actually gets inside."
The female officer frowned, the inside joke lost on her, but before she could question why he would put emphasis on that part, Alvin had already closed the passenger door with a soft thud, turned on his heels and vanished up the stairs. Shrugging, Mia rounded the vehicle and got behind the wheel, glancing at the younger detective beside her. As she looked the supposedly sleeping man over, she wondered not for the first time why Halstead had so little support from his unit. While he was the one member whom she had least interacted with thus far, as far as she could tell he was a decent guy, hard-working and dedicated to his job and very much deserving of his spot in Intelligence despite what Voight had said earlier. He didn't deserve to be shunned like this, and part of her felt bad for taking advantage of his unjust suspension less than two weeks prior. Sighing, she started the car and drove off, thinking the least she could do to make it up to him was make sure he got the medical attention he needed.
Next chapter we'll find out about Jay's injuries, so stay tuned.