Laneaddicted1: "I was wondering if you could do a 2 chapter story/prompt about Jay being called back into service and him and Hailey communicating with each other….Jay gets hurt and Hailey flies to where he is and waits for him to be healed enough to be sent back home? Jay has her as his emergency contact."

Chapter 1- Answering The Call…Again

This story was given to me by a very sweet and awesome reader quite awhile back. I had one intention for this story but as we are all in this time of sitting, waiting, and reflection, this prompt came to me. The more I read it and began to work out some details, the more I realized that it needed to be more then two chapters. I've prepared myself to have this be the story where you all truly hate me. I haven't seen a story like this done before and I think I understand why. We hate to think of the unimaginable: a person leaving only to never return the same. We see people, characters in one way of life and cannot fathom that world without them. But out of tragedy can come many beautiful, incredible, inspirational things. So that is why I've chosen to go the way this will eventually turn out. This one is going to be a tough one, I must admit. Will you come on this journey with me?

It was 2:37am. The apartment was ridiculous quiet with the exception of forced exhales from Jay's crunching. The kitchen's faucet dripped its' perpetual and pristine tune, never missing a beat of annoyance. The dishwasher had ceased it's washing some time ago, the silent beep buzzing out that things were ready for unloading. The washer and dryer were silent at last, it's day ended around the same time as time. Even the television sat silent on its' stand, relaxing after hours of countless, pointless gazing from its' owner. He was going through a bad case of insomnia, the condition always rearing its' ugly head this time of year. The doldrums between Christmas and the first day of Spring were never kind to Jay. It was that span of time where the grey and grime and depression of winter truly kicked off. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing on the calendar that sparked joy. So with all this mental and alone time, cue the warfare and attacks on the brain.

Work was a bust that day, seriously. A long time UC case ended in an arrest, the crook in lockup and awaiting sentencing essentially. He was caught red handed, absolutely no way of getting out of his charges; which is exactly how Intelligence planned it. The arrest was made in the morning, paperwork drawn up and completed before the 4pm sunlight left the city. A rare night off meant one of two things: dinner with the team or rescue from the harshness of the wintery city. The latter was decided by Jay, the rest egging him to go with them to no avail. What he didn't tell them was that he was on day two of zero sleep, his body pretty much at the end of things. Hunger was no longer winning out. He had to make himself sleep tonight. So by 4:30 he was on his couch flipping through channels, swallowing melatonin pills in search of the some random channel that would put him out. Six episodes of Top Chef failed him. The ten milligrams of melatonin zipping through his system, leaving not a drop of drowsiness behind. His phone lit up at midnight as he donned running gear and an Apple Watch. He was well aware it was below freezing, but that was nothing compared to feeling zombie-like in his body yet wide awake in his mind. He walked the streets for a couple hours, not entirely aware of where he was or what the finish line would be. It was the end of the riverwalk, and the alert he'd done five miles, that got him to head back home. The L's rocking motion propelled him home, the wave drifting sensation only keeping him up, not encouraging sleep. So it is here that we find him doing crunches at the early hour, resorting to absolute last measures before collapsing into a human of tears. On crunch number fifty-seven is when his phone lit up, a number known yet not, trying to reach him.

"Hello," he inquisitively asked, panting as the other end spoke. The first number of the call was a 7 followed by a 2, the indicator that a SAT phone call was coming in.

"Did I wake you?" The voice was one he hadn't heard in forever, but instantaneously recognized. They were strangers and then best friends, as it had always been with them.

"You know I'm not this time of year." The unique snort then small chuckle had Jay beaming. It was amazing how quickly he missed their time together.

"So why are you calling me at this time of day? I'm pretty sure its' not to arrange Valentines' plans and hockey scores." The line went quiet for a moment, Jay thinking a few steps ahead. He had an idea, an inkling but wanted to get that audible confirmation.

"What would say if I asked you to come out here?" His legs sprung him from his sprawled out space on the floor. This day was going to come at some point and quite frankly he dreaded it. That was a part of him, a version of him a lifetime ago. He wasn't a soldier anymore. He returned to civilian life all those years ago and never looked back. That day still haunted him, the very reason for the situation he was in this morning. Yet despite all of this, he wasn't mad. If anything he was humbled, proud to still be considered valuable after all this time.

"Where's here," he asked while bent over and elbow deep in the fridge?

"Kandahar." Of course, the last post of his deployment. He'd literally be picking up right where he left off.

"I wish it was somewhere else, but we need your help and skills and expertise." Jay groaned, slamming the fridge and resting against it.

"There's no one else in the U.S. military that's up-to-date and trained and able to do whatever it is you need?"

"Not that we can get out here quickly."

"Mouse, just say you miss me and I'll think about it." It was in the downing of a large gulp of water that Jay picked up on shouting in the back. The visions of base life instantly spanning in his forefront. He picked up the scents of bad food and gasoline on hot sand. He swore he could feel his skin roasting under the melting sun. It was scary yet incredible how quickly the brain takes one back to something. Even years later and a life of adventure between those times, the flooding back right was something to admire, fear almost.

"It's a one in a million shot. We've tried out so many snipers and none of them have worked out. I don't trust them, it's not the connection that we had and that's crucial to this whole operation."

"What happened to you being a coms specialist?"

"Yeah, that lasted the one mission before I got put back on field duty." Jay chuckled, not the least bit surprised Mouse found his way to his true place in the world.

"C'mon Jay, you are the best shot I ever worked with. This mission is on me and I want, need you to help me finish it."

"Man you're really kissing ass at this point."

"Is it working?"

"When do you need an answer," Jay laughed?

"Now."

"Seriously?!"

"Welcome to military time, bro." Jay was quiet for obvious reasons. He stared at the kitchen floor, analyzing life. Case load was at max capacity. It was beyond freezing in the world right now. Nothing was on his calendar for the foreseeable future. Gosh was he beyond tired. What was a quick trip east to the old days?

"When do you need me?"

"Like on a flight before day's end tomorrow."

"Get the beer chilling…and a target, like a big one. You know I haven't shot with one of those in eons of years."

"You're a natural. You'll wind up schooling everyone here."

"We'll see about that."

"Get to sleep. See you in oh twenty hours." That was going to be a readjustment: military time.

"Yeah, trying. See you man." Jay hung up before feeling the magnitude of what he just agreed to. He didn't bother contacting Will or Voight or anyone that could and would have swayed him to stay state side. Just like he did all those years ago, he dove into the unknown without giving it a second thought. Actually, that was how he always lived life. He saw a problem and ran for a solution, details and safety precautions picked up and dealt with along the way. In the blink of an eye he saw life in a whole other way. He was taking a trip down memory lane, heading back into enemy territory to play a role in the never ending war between good and bad. He had purpose, a goal and event to look forward to. Packing was going to be done in the morning. Routes and destinations mapped out when the sun was up. The mission began with two simple tasks: sleep and saying farewell. It was as his heavy eyelids allowed his body what it so desperately craved that Jay came to the conclusion that one was going to be much easier then the other.

Intrigued? Wanting more? I hope so. I'd also like to point out I am working on wrapping up another story, so we'll see how writing two stories at once goes. I'm excited to get this one going. Thanks for reading!