The Parts That Make Us Whole

by taylorandmacster10

Based on a prompt from Laneaddicted1, this is taking Jay back down memory lane and into a life he never saw coming. What begins as a mission with Mouse all too shockingly shifts life in a way no one thinks possible. This is Jay whump in the most heartbreaking way possible. Want to come along?

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-This Cursed Or Sacred Ground

So here it is, the moment it's all lead up to. I've placed myself in the mindset of you all hating me. And in a way, I get it. This is going to be a big, multi-level chapter. All the hints have been dealt, it's time to show the cards. With a very scared hand, let's get this part of things going.

The day started just like any other day on earth. That's the statement everyone uses for the worst day of their lives. No one wakes up knowing things will go tragically and horrifically wrong. Perhaps that's the worst part about these kinds of situations, you have no clue when something will strike. In the back of your mind you get senses or ideas or cases where things could do awry. But the true life shifters plop into your lap, with their devilish smile, when you very least expect and the guard is down as it should be. Looking back on this day, that is the single thing that stood out to Jay amongst everything else that follows: just how normal and high and perfect things were before it fell down the proverbial waterfall.

The adrenaline was still lingering in his system when awoke the next morning, or afternoon I should say. For the second day in a row he woke up after the lunch bell rang. Sitting up in bed had him joking to himself that perhaps he should move to a desert. If nothing else, he slept like a baby every time he resided in one. Looking out his one window revealed a stunning scene. Rare was it to see a single cloud in this area of the globe, so noting the complete overcast roof was something to behold. People outside were looking up and those inside had doors open, necks craned to the Heavens. His phone decided then was the perfect time to dish out the forecast for the day: cloudy and seventy-five, an absolutely divine day lay ahead…or what was left of it. Knowing he'd spend the next thirty hours in the air, crisscrossing the globe back home, a long run was in store. Fiddling through the drawers he found another set of workout clothes, threw them on, and then proceed to shake out sand from the running shoes.

"Damn it," he cursed aloud as his left shoelace snapped off. The thing had been going for awhile, Jay hoping it would break free when he got back. But his preparedness had him bring a new set of laces. In a matter of seconds he was totally switched out and ready to roll. All that was left was a knock on a door.

"What?!" The hangover was bad, awful enough that when Jay opened the bedroom door Mouse yelled for him to shut it; apparently the light change was equivalent to being stabbed or something like that. Jay glanced around at the completely trashed, foul odored room with both disgust and humor. Mouse was never a clean freak but this was a whole other level for him, a record Jay ultimately concluded.

"I'm going to go for a run. I should be back in an hour or so."

"How can you possibly be upright and talking and moving after last night," Mouse whined through pillows?

"Because I didn't drink as much as you and I wasn't shouting Drops of Jupiter till 1AM. I basically had to tackle and drag you in here."

"But it was fun, right?"

"Sure. So, when do we get out of here?"

"I don't know. I've been too sick to get up and ask. I'll get in contact with people while you're out."

"Okay." Tip toeing out of the room, Jay opened and closed the door as quietly and slowly as possible. The nerves were there, the tingling of antsy sprouting goosebumps all over. He couldn't stay stationary much longer. It was time to burn off some energy in the Afghanistan desert.

…

This is true not just for the deserts of the Middle East, but really any stretch of terrain that's flat, sandy, and all blends together. Do not pick a long target to run at. With depth perception all but gone, judging how far away something is can wind up leading you into a pretty bad situation. With one's focus so caught up on what's ahead, you tend to lose your bearings. When the moment comes that you have to stop, you'll all too often turn around and find your starting point gone and you literally in the middle of nowhere. Jay was taught this truth before his first deployment and kept it with him ever since. Now he wasn't like the others who merely performed laps around the compound so technology had to be implemented. An Apple Watch with GPS and data was his life line, the device providing him not only an idea of where to go, but also kept up with where he'd been. A thin blue line grew behind his dot on the small screen, mapping out a path perpendicular to the base. His goal was to go however far out he could for half an hour before turning back and retracing his steps. It wasn't the norm for him, but necessary given his current situation.

The run started out fast and didn't really drop off for the most part. Running was so freeing, heavily encouraging one to cast thoughts and bad energy away in an effort to concentrate on what was currently happening. There are so many elements that go into a good, solid run. For starters one's breathing, which cannot be too short or long and must be done through the nose and out the mouth to prevent side splints. Then one moves to the heart, constantly making sure things weren't being pushed too much and that a consilient rate was kept for the majority of a run. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly were the legs. Pacing must be done properly, good amounts of blasts, cool downs, and middle ground speeds have to be performed to reach that peak cardio workout. It was a lot to keep in line, but Jay absolutely loved it. He saw it as a challenge, a competitive way to force himself into new things. Ever since he was a kid running was his thing. What began with sprints in the backyard with Will turned into being star player on the soccer field. From there that desire to be pushed launched him into the Rangers, always striving to be the first guy to a location or achieving a mission. And of course he was the fastest and strongest guy in Intelligence, no one was going to doubt or argue that. He loved the thrill of going above all others; took victory in turning around to watch others pant in behind him.

Today was no exception. Everything was operating in perfect harmony. Air seemed to never leave him, the legs almost asking for more punishment then what he was providing. Sweat wasn't breaking till the turn back for home and even the playlist was exactly what he planned out. He wasn't multiple units operating one thing, but one body doing everything in fluid, seamless fashion. All things were primed and doing incredibly well, the feeling of full living overpowering whatever negative thoughts were left in him. The endorphins were shooting out all over and he loved it, honestly craved it at this point. The anticipated hour run took more like an hour and a half, but Jay wasn't complaining at all.

"I almost sent out a search party," Mouse yelled when Jay came within earshot.

"What?" Jay ripped out an AirPod as he cooled down to a walk.

"Everything is cleared for travel. No sign of retaliation from the other side."

"Great," the lack of air finally catching up with Jay.

"Flight leaves in four hours and we're pulling out in two." That was rather soon, barely giving Jay enough time to shower, pack, bid farewell and be on his way. Jay stretched his already cramping calf as he spoke.

"Kind of quick."

"We've got a small window. Next mission is located on the other side of this sandbox. Gotta be on our way before nightfall." Both of them turned to peer at the towering walls behind them, both thinking the same thing.

"So what happens to this place?"

"I don't know. Probably another company will move in."

"I've got stuff do now with not a lot of time."

"Ditto." The two went in together, one waiting for the other to clear the gate before jogging towards the barracks. Correction, Jay jogged while Mouse complained that he was too lazy and sick to keep up. Jay slammed his door before Mouse, lying starfish on the bed for a moment or two. Through closed eyes he breathed and thought and readied himself for the marathon back. The thought is sitting in a metal trap suspended in the air over water, mountains, and whatever else was uneasy for even the most season traveler. But then it dawned on him that the finish line needed to be alerted. With the very last effort of energy he had, Jay fell into the desk chair and began the necessary calls and texts.

"Sorry, did I get you guys in the middle of something?"

"Not at all," Hailey half lied. In truth they were in a very heated conversation/debate over motive for the never ending case. Most of them were at raised voice level when Hailey's phone went off, her first shout of the day alerting them that Jay was calling. It was weighed if they should answer or not, most of them swallowing wrath as the other side of the globe came into view. Doing their best to hide things, it was very apparent and felt that things were not as they appeared. Jay caught the glances before looking towards him, detected the hint of spite and resentment as the first words were uttered. They all thought they could fool him, forgetting the fact that he was a detective and a good one that had been at it awhile. Thus the reason for his comment, foregoing the usual cheerful for an opportunity to tackle things head on.

"So…everything went well," Hailey wishfully asked?

"Yeah, it went great. Out of all the missions I've done that was probably the most fluid, straight line job I've had in quite some time. Go figure, it takes the final mission for things to finally work out seamlessly."

"The final?"

"Yeah. This was good closure but it's time. This isn't me anymore and plus, I have a lot of pull from the states to stay on that side of things." That one got him a couple smiles and chuckles. It wasn't back to normal but was headed in the right direction.

"Anyway, just wanted to tell you guys that things went well and in a few hours I'll be on my way back."

"Awesome! When you do get in?"

"Oh, it'll be sometime tomorrow night…or morning. Honestly I don't even know what day it is right now."

"Well we're very proud and have a safe flight. Get back here soon! We miss you."

"Same. I'll see you guys before long. I've got a couple things to do before we head out so I've got to go. Try to not tear each other's heads off before I get back." He waved, they nervously laughed, and that was it. A quick text exchange with Will took place before Jay rose and headed for the shower. It wasn't the farewell he envisioned, somewhat expecting more jovial or celebratory conversing between people. But just like the last time, he wasn't in the driver's seat of things. It was what it was and he had next to no time left to ponder.

…

"Jay! C'mon man we don't have a ton of time." He found himself glued in place, a freeze frame of a human. His right hand was on the door handle of the car, the limb behind him as the rest of him was facing the fortress behind him. At the time, Jay concluded this sudden inability to move was a result of the realization that this was it, the final moment of all of this. But in truth it was the planning of the inevitable, just life's perfectly cruel way of timing things sometimes. He stood there for a minute, just too lost in his unspoken farewell. Rare was the moment you knew of an ending and could mentally prepare for that farewell speech or last look at a chapter of one's life. The last time he raced away from this place was on a medivac chopper, struggling to survive the aftermath of a completely tragic day. So to have this time, this instance of quiet, peaceful thinking was a treat and treasure, one he wanted to milk for all it was worth. He felt the sun soaking into his skin, smelled the diesel gasoline being burned off by the Hum-Vees ready to roll. The laughter, raucous, the existence of normal military life bounding off the high, deep, and hard walls of the place. As Mouse reported, everyone was preparing to leave, this day acting as the last day of camp. Bags were being packed while structures were being disassembled, soon to be erected in another corner the largest sandbox in the world. Vehicles were ready to divert the many ways into the world, people bid final farewells and thanks for positive, productive times. Part of Jay was currently missing all of this, but the rest of him knew his time was up. At last, the opportunity to put this story to bed was here.

"Jay," Mouse called for the twentieth time, rather perturbed by now.

"Yeah, sorry." Without hesitation Jay climbed into the back seat, nodding to the driver he was ready to roll. The massive armored car rattled to life, spinning the tire in the sand before traction was established. Observation, pivoting in these contraptions was all too difficult but Jay managed to find a spot. He kept his gaze on the place behind him, snapping a million mental snapshots as it disappeared into the landscape. He thanked it, said goodbye, and vowed to not let it take hold of him with each snap. He wasn't on the verge of crying, but got why a lot of people did. It was a beautiful and poetic moment, this closure with the late afternoon. From this point forward he'd be just a guy, a police detective out of Chicago. The solider was hanging up his boots, replacing them with all that he already had. The plan was to transfer to reserves once he touched down back home, eventually funneling out of the system. He'd come full circle, completed the course. There was nothing left for him in this world. When the base was but a speck was when he began to look away, focusing on what was in the peripheral. And it was here that the new chapter began. Isn't it funny how life does that? It gives you no time to prepare or adjust to the next chapter, just throws you into whether you're ready or not. But good or bad, are we people that like to wait?

"Hold up," Jay called while beginning to open his door. He spotted them two, three seconds before. It was a woman and child about a quarter mile away from the road. The woman was adorned in attire common for this side of the world, the child having collapsed face down into the ground. One could mistake the flailing arms as a wave or desire to be recognized by the caravan of Hum-Vees. But there was something, a manner in which the woman was moving that told him it was something bad. Coupled with the fallen child, this was a cry for help.

"Jay, wait," Mouse called as the driver slowed to a stop. Not hesitating Jay was out in the sand again. He stood there until the woman screamed. It wasn't a language he recognized, but her tone was desperation, pointing to her child as soon as she ceased speaking.

"Call in support." A soon revealed saving grace in the story of everything.

"Jay! We don't know if that's been cleared," Mouse shouted as Jay took off. He was the helper, the savior in times of need. It was his due diligence, to defend, uphold, and help one in need. He'd been this way since his beginning really. He half heard Mouse's cry, wincing against the still strained calf encouraging him to stop. Eyes were focused on the people in need, legs guiding him to the location. Left, right, left, right, left, clicking sound and hard surface, and then he was airborne.

…

It's here that things get really blurry for all parties involved. One second Jay was upright, running, perfectly healthy, the next second he was the exact opposite on all accounts.

"JAY!" Mouse shrieked as he towards the scene. The woman and child were still in their place, the woman covering her child as the remnants of the blast trickled back down to ground. During the time when the war was at its' peak, these desert roads and side sections were peppered with hidden IED devices. Intended to take out American convoys and soldiers, the small yet deadly devices were nestled under the top layer of sand, evil minded people using their surroundings as a benefit. Despite an entire division of the U.S. military responsible for locating, disarming, and removing these devices, the sheer amount of them and size of the landscape, it was impossible to know if things were 100% cleared. This truth flashed across Mouse's mind as he flew to Jay, choosing to believe he'd be okay between the car and Jay. He was the help, they didn't get hurt he told himself.

"JAY! JAY!" He repeated the name over and over, fully aware that he wasn't going to get an answer. Literally in the blink of an eye Jay was gone. Mouse watched the bomb go off, gasped in horror as he watched Jay briefly take flight before landing on his stomach in the hot sand. He wasn't moving, wasn't speaking, and Mouse took note of how different his body looked. In the fifteen seconds it took between the car and the location, a nice blood pool was forming under him, most of it seeping out of the bottom half of him. The only saving grace was that the device went off after he released his foot because had it gone off on impact, they wouldn't be looking at Jay Halstead.

"Jay," Mouse choked as he slid to his knees once he arrived. It was a sight he never wanted to see or discuss ever again, but knew that wouldn't be true. His leg was not normal, conformed into a way that was going to be both painful and not right for quite some time.

"Please, please, please," Mouse repeated as he felt for a pulse on the neck, exhaling the slightest when he felt something. It wasn't the strongest beat, but it was there. By now other members of the caravan were arriving, splitting personnel between Jay and the people who were the reason for all of this.

"Roll him," Mouse instructed as three of them placed hands on his right side and pulled. Once they got Jay on his back, the stubborn ass blinked his eyes open. Mouse cursing as Jay continued to regain consciousness.

He was fine for three blinks, but after that he deteriorated just as quickly. It began with the wheeze, then the crying out from pain. Long blinks, hard fought breaths, he was trying to speak but Mouse kept putting a hand over his mouth, trying to get him to focus everything on just staying alive for however long he could.

"Am…I…still breathing?" He asked to no one, the evidence of shock right there. Mouse wanted to cry, scream, walk away and wake up from all of this, but Jay's asking the second time confirmed that none of this was going to just go away.

"Yes, you're still breathing," Mouse replied. He placed a hand on Jay's chest, the relaxant both of them needed. In and out, up and down, as long as he kept doing that, he was still with them. Then Jay took things a step further: attempting to sit up.

"No, stay down." Jay shook his head, trying to tell everyone he was fine. It took Mouse grabbing the left hand and squeezing it to get Jay to look at him.

"You don't need to see that, Jay. You have to stay down." That one earned him a puzzled look, very clueless that his leg was all kinds of wrongs.

"Here, wrap this around his leg, tight," Mouse declared as he removed his belt. The leg was still draining blood and had to be slowed somehow.

"How far up?"

"As far as you can," can back with no emotion. Mouse turned to Jay, looked him in the eye before speaking.

"This is going to really hurt and you'll probably pass out. You have to come back to us, alright? Everyone back home needs you to stay." Jay was really struggling now, not understanding very much, but he moved his head in a nodding motion. The belt was cinched, Jay cried out, and then that was it. His body went limp for the second time in two minutes. It was the final time Jay would be conscious for quite some time.

Mouse stepped back as the medics came over, blood soaked hands over his mouth as he watched dumbfounded. As each article of clothing was ripped for access, the belly sunk that much deeper into the body. Bones that were supposed to be under skin weren't. The left side of his chest was blue and indented, making it clear the lung had collapsed under the weight of the blast and flight. There was blood everywhere, so much of it that Mouse was convinced Jay wasn't going to make it to a chopper, let alone an OR to be saved. The first of dozens of IVs were started, an oxygen mask placed over his mouth. What Jay really needed was to be intubated, but that wasn't going to happen until helped arrived.

It was in the, 'he's going into shock,' comment that the low thump of a medivac chopper cracked the silent airwaves. Mouse looked up through cupped eyes as the two propped helicopter flew overhead before landing twenty yards away. There was no run down or full assessment of Jay or what happened. A stretcher was thrown on the ground, Jay was placed on it, and the horde of people raced for the chopper. It was here that the decision had to be made: stay back in fear and sorrow or tackle this head on. Jay was alone, probably dying, and Mouse was the whole reason he was even out here. The answer was extremely simple. Before the doors were shut Mouse squeezed in. The 'take flight' motion was twirled into the air, the band of people airborne and flying to help immediately. Mouse danced between Jay and everyone and the window, searching for a reason as to why, how, and when things took such a hard turn towards danger.

…

It was in the arrival at the airbase in Baghdad that things really began to take shape and severity. Given the current situation and Jay's cover, they couldn't just drop him off at a local hospital and hope for the best. In en-route to the airbase Jay was intubated and given the initial assessment of what all was going on. A needle driver and air escape was pushed into the upper left hand corner of Jay's chest, not too far away from the collar bone. The shallow and hard breaths became full heaves and gurgled sounds. The immediate solution was to allow built up air to escape, but in the long run he needed a chest tube pushed into the lung, allowing it the time and capability to re-inflate a heal over the coming weeks. He was diagnosed with a concussion, the severity not known at the time, and dozens of lacerations that needed suturing. Now as terrifying and bad as this all was, this was just the side show, the controllable aspect of the damage. The left leg was in shambles, more things wrong then right. The longer Mouse stared, and the more doctors and medics discussed, it became apparent the steps that were going to have to be taken. When Jay was taken away to the hospital at the base, Mouse completely lost it. He scream his distaste for this land. This was twice now that Jay came out here and twice he left it unconscious and fighting for life. In the moment he didn't know if that sandy world was cursed or soon to be sacred, but overall he too was in complete shock.

Once the tears died down and breaths were controlled enough to keep him functioning, Mouse took off for the hospital, foregoing the commands and instructions to wait. He could not leave Jay alone, fearing he was going to wake up and realize he was alone. He made it as far as the OR department before losing it the second time in the last handful of minutes. He saw a lot of Jay and a large group of people working on and around him. Again, another snapshot he never wanted to see again. His feet guided him to a chair outside the room and placed him in it. Mouse waited half an hour, forty-five minutes; finger nails mostly gone and legs having shook everything loose before the first round of gut sickening news was delivered.

"You came in with the patient?"

"Halstead, Jay," Mouse corrected. He didn't care if he offended someone ranked higher then him. He despised the lack of personal touch in this situation. To them Jay was a faceless thing to work on, not a human being in a world of hurt right now.

"Yes. You know I'm not supposed to be revealing things to you but given the circumstance.."

"-Is he going to make it?" The doctor motioned for the seat Mouse was once in, going him on its' neighbor. The man placed and hand on the shoulder, a move that never brought comfort and reassurance to anyone.

"He's alive right now but he's in critical condition. He suffered a collapsed lung but we were able to repair that with the chest tube. He'll have that in for a week or so and then start breathing therapy to help strengthen. He has a grade 3 concussion and cracked skull but no surgery is required. Numerous cuts and gashes but all those have been stitched up and will heal well."

"But the leg," Mouse cut in. The doctor nodded, Mouse's entire being dropping.

"The impact of things is what did the most damage. Just the force of the blast was enough to shatter everything from the toes up to the kneecap. We're getting him ready to fly out to Dubai. We don't have the tools or ideal training for this. We're just the patching station before shipping people out to places." The vomit was seriously in the process of coming up. He was shaking, biting his lip as he nodded in shell shocked acceptance. It was still lost on him how they got to this position and why he was being handed this role of decision making.

"So there isn't a chance of saving anything." The doctor slowly and regrettably shook his head.

"The extent of the damage and the amount of rehab and follow up care, at this point his quality of life will be better without it. We controlled the bleeding but this needs to happen soon."

"Thus the flight out." The doctor nodded.

"How much," Mouse quietly asked?

"There's a good chance of keeping it below the knee, but the doctors in Dubai will know better then me."

"Oh God. Why is this happening?" The doctor returned his hand to Mouse's back, embracing him in a hug as the body shook with emotions. Sure, they were both strangers, but in this epitome of humanity, comfort was welcomed from anyone. A nurse opened the door, making a motion that things were ready to go. Mouse walked into the room with the doctor, observed the very lifeless body on the gurney. The once taped breathing tube was looking more official, being kept in place with the plastic holder and velcro around the neck. Clothing was completely gone now, and hospital gown thrown over him and numerous blankets encasing the body. He noted the chest tube coming out the left side, grimaced over the multiple IVs and central line in the neck, before finding a hand to grab. Mouse chose to ignore the thing that was in its' final hours. He didn't need to see that, already getting himself in that mindset of it no longer being there.

"Are you flying out with him?" Mouse simply nodded. He didn't care that he was still on a mission, figured everyone else would get it. The green light was given a couple minutes later, the team of people escorting Jay to the medical plane. A paralytic was injected and sedation dosed out before the gurney was secured into his assigned place. Mouse kept a firm grip on a hand as he got himself situated in a seat as the plane rolled down the runway.

"Has anyone contacted his family? Emergency contact?" The medic on board gave him a thumbs up, remarked that that part of things was being done now. As the place rocketed down the runway and lifted into the sky, Mouse took pity on the person having to complete that task. On the one hand he was grateful to not be them, on the other hand he realized that by the time they landed his phone would be lit up with pleading messages. This was the first point of contact assignment he was going to hate.

"Hang in there, Jay. Just keep breathing and let things work. I'm not leaving." Jay did as was told, allowing for the most uneventful horror flight in the history of the world.

…

She got the call on the doorsteps of an arrest warrant. It was so unlike her to even think about answering a phone call at this moment on the job. Looking back it was fate that made her, but in the moment she was curious. Everyone that normally would have called was around her, and no one else would think to break protocol right now. So it was the embarrassment of her buzzing phone that made her pick up, the oddness of the caller ID that encouraged her to select the green button. It didn't have a set of numbers, the screen simple saying 'restricted caller.' She made it as far as saying 'hello' before all of life shut down. The phone fell out of her numb hand, cracking on the hard surface as she stared out at the now stupid scene dumbfounded. Nothing in or on this earth mattered to her anymore. She had to get away, could not take another second of being on this God forbidden job. Those who weren't aware of the voice on the other end, which was everyone, watched as she collected the destroyed phone and walk back to the truck in a daze. She was in no shape to drive, but screw that. Time, distance, speed would help, allow her to think and do something.

Sitting in the driver's seat was the first time she broke down, this instance over the smell to the vehicle. It was him, his not-so-cheap cologne that he wore from time to time. She joked with him about it, saying one day the scent would come back to bite him. Some perp would recognize it while he was undercover and he'd be blown. But now, as the tears pooled in her cupped hands, she prayed to be drowned in the liquid. Whatever it took to bring him back, she was willing to complete.

"Hailey. Hailey. C'mon, roll the window down." Adam was knocking on the passenger window, his words normal but his voice that of worry. He figured something bad had happened but didn't make the connection to Jay. She shot him a look, one of pity and pleading for him to go away. His hand was midair, ready to knock again, when he got the cue. He watched her pull out of the parking spot on the road and disappear down the street. He too concluded she wasn't in any shape to operate a moving vehicle, but also knew he wouldn't be able stop her.

She drove around with no end or goal in sight. Landmarks or street crossings were gone from her, she just recalls driving. The tears were Niagara Falls at this point of the journey, her sleeve and shirt collar acting as a fantastic towel to wipe things when she came to a stop. The words couldn't escape her mind. They were on repeat, each time louder and more serious then the previous round.

"Jay Halstead…in an accident…critical condition." She cursed herself for taking on this emergency contact role. She hated herself for even taking this job or living in this city. All it brought her were stumbling blocks, obstructions that kept her from what she really wanted. This latest blow to the long term plan perhaps the worst instance of all. At lights she scream, threw her head back and loudly ached, often honked the horn for absolutely no reason. She hated him, she hated her, she despised everything at this point. Now of course this was all fear and grief, but in the moment she truly felt this way.

Her driving lead to crisscrossing the limits of the city. Several times she wound up going in circles, realizing on the third rotation that she'd passed the same row of houses. The words of the caller flipped over to his voice. There wasn't a specific conversation that played in her mind, but it was just him talking. A couple times she swore she saw him standing on the street, one time putting the window down and calling out his name. But when nothing came back and the passenger seat remained void of a human, she realized the severity of her situation. At some point the truck guided her to Med, Hailey putting the truck in park in a visitor spot. In all honesty she was proud for making it this far, not having wrapped the truck around a poll or landed in someone's front yard. A final wipe of the face and she was back on the pavement, adjusting her shirt and rubbing the puffiness out of her eyes as she approached the ED entrance. She wasn't sure if Will was in the know so she did her best to make herself presentable. What she found on the other side of the sliding doors was not what she was expecting.

"Yes, tonight. This afternoon, whatever you have that will get me out of here ASAP." He was pacing in the waiting room, workbag draped across his shoulder and jacket half zipped on his person. There was zero shock and sadness and emotion. He was in cruise control, acting like his brother wasn't on the verge of dying halfway around the world. Hailey was wondering how this was happening. She should've been the calm, controlled, and planning one while he wept. It was very strange how the roles were reversed.

"Will," she whispered when he took a pause. He nodded, his acknowledgment of seeing her.

"Yeah, make that two tickets for all of that." Hailey's eyebrows shot up, figuring out what she was being dragged into.

"And I pick up tickets at the counter? Great. Thank you." She was beyond baffled at this point, noticing the small smile on his person as he returned the phone to his bag.

"Let's go. Flight to JFK is in two hours and we've got to get there in the middle of traffic."

"Will."

"Hailey, if I sit here I will lose it. He's going to be in Dubai in a couple hours. I'm not going to sit around here. Are you coming or not?" It was exactly what she needed: a pushing attitude. She wasn't allowed to second guess or talk herself out of it. In the form of Will, life was asking if she was in this thing or not. Not knowing the commitment or duration of things, she nodded her head, scooping up her jacket and broken phone and marching in line behind him. What an adventure she was about to embark on, both of them really.

The ride to O'Hare was memorable. It was the first layer of information. Hailey was instructed to sit in an available seat while Will called everyone and pulled every string he could. His chatter was background noise to Hailey's world. The train moved much too slow for her today, the stops making her tap her feet intentionally loud and fast. The quiet alone time was her enemy, giving her that room to think of him and worst case scenario combos. Her eyes burned from the tears, lungs hurting from the deep heaves she gulped, but it didn't matter to her. Nothing about her or her appearance or current place in life matter. It was him or nothing.

"Hey, we're here," Will jostled as the announcement came over the speaker that the end of the line was reached. Oh how that was a chilling tune to the timing of things. Will extended a hand and Hailey accepted, the two of them linked as they ran the gauntlet of security and concourse treks. It was at the gate that it dawned on Hailey that this was the same route Jay took a couple days ago. She felt the eeriness of this truth, feeling as if she was coming up behind a bad accident. Will nudged her out of things once again, his offering a Starbucks coffee cup this time.

"Drink. It's going to be the best thing you have for awhile." Hailey didn't speak, just did as was told. The two were a strange sight, obviously receiving a few glances as people arrived to the gate. But the two of them didn't care, just sipped and stared into shocked realization together.

"Have you cried yet," Hailey asked before long?

"A little. I just don't want to believe it until I see it."

"What did they tell you?"

"That he was in an accident. It's bad enough that they have to fly him out of the area for treatment. Part of me thinks I'm going to land and he'll be calling me asking where I am to pick him up." Hailey did her best to smile, things coming off like a forced, painful grin. She loved his pie in the sky fantasy, but realized it was just that.

"What about…um….I forgot his name."

"Mouse. I called and he's not answering. He's probably with him and they're flying so he can't be reached. I left him a message telling him that I was coming and going to be calling every time I landed till I got there." Haley nodded, too exhausted to keep things going. She wanted to get going, go to sleep, just do something to distract.

"What happened to you phone," Will inquired?

"It fell out of my hand."

"Today?" That was enough to make her lose it. Will took her in for a hug, shushing in her ear as the crowd watched in confusion.

"He's going to be okay." Hailey so desperately wanted to believe that, but her gut said to assume otherwise. The call to board played over the speaker, the nervous duo getting in line and boarding just like the rest of them. Hailey and Will were sandwiched between a group of kids, all loud and unable to sit still. Prayers were said, eyes were forcefully snapped shut, and the plane launched itself into the sky. It was too late to turn back now. Ready or the not, the worst and best adventure of their life was happening.

…

Two Hours Later

It was a single, constant, perfect motion. Once the plane landed in Dubai Jay was yanked out of the plane and onto an ambulance, Mouse being dragged to keep up with everyone. On the way pre-op was completed, which was weird to witness in the back of the rig. The wrappings around the left leg were tossed to the floor, purple Sharpie drew out incision points and areas where things could be viable. As a joke, purely to lighten the mood, Mouse asked for the marker and wrote 'not this one' on the right leg. It was more then likely inappropriate to say that, but then again so was removing someone's leg without their knowledge or consent. More then anything Mouse wanted to wake Jay up, tell him what was going on and allow him that moment to say goodbye. It was so wrong, going to be such a huge blow to Jay that that's probably what Mouse hated the most out of this whole thing. Yes, it was being done to save his life, but the fact Jay was going to be unconscious for it all never sat right with Mouse. But as was the case with this whole thing, Jay was gone. He was completely out, no way to pull him back for a moment.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the hospital, Mouse completing deep breathing exercises as the doors opened and Jay was gently removed. They all knew what was coming next, the thing that was going to go down in the coming hours. Mouse followed the unknown nurses and doctors before being introduced to the surgical team that would do the life altering deed. He couldn't remember their names to save his life, but thanked them for their work ahead. Mouse was given a moment to bid farewell, allowing the tears to fall as he spoke. This was the final time Jay was going to be an invisible man.

"I'm so sorry, Jay. This is entirely my fault. You're going to be insanely mad at me when you wake up and I get it. But please make it to that point of being able to hate me." Mouse did the final scan, squeezed the hand, before letting go. There was no holding back, no hinderance between now and what was about to go down. It was now entirely out of his hands. He watched till Jay and the team disappeared from his view before sliding down the wall and feeling everything. The thought of how they got to this point was still baffling him. It was here that he felt his phone ring. Scooping up the phone took dread to the next level. This wasn't the time or place he wanted to do this, but alas, he had to take it.

"Oh thank God," Will exclaimed on the other side. The hopefulness was there, Mouse absolutely hating his existence at this point.

"We've made it to JFK. Our London flight is taking off in an hour."

"We," Mouse choked?

"Yeah, Hailey and I." Mouse cleared his throat, trying his best to hide the fact he was just balling his eyes out.

"Okay."

"Well?! What's happening?" Mouse tapped the back of his head on the wall, jokingly praying for someone to take him now.

"He just got wheeled into surgery. It's going to be awhile."

"He did well on the flight over?"

"Yeah. No issues. The drugs they gave him right before had him really out for the most part." Will noted the hesitation, felt that this was the two cent answer for some million dollar story. All thoughts of bringing Jay home in a few days flew out the window. Will looked to Hailey who was sitting opposite side of him at the gate. She was on her second dose of Starbucks for the day, the brown nectar seeming to still not be helping.

"Mouse, what are you not telling me?" There was a pause, a sniff, and then a clearing of the throat before the voice returned.

"I really don't want to tell you this over the phone." There was an epiphany, the brotherly telepathic phone line that slapped Will in the head. He was clueless and then figured it all out, everything about him shaking as he continued.

"Mouse, I'm going to ask you a question and I need you to answer it. Above or below?" The line was quiet for a moment, too long for Will's liking. He removed the phone from his ear and placed the call on speaker. Hailey needed to hear this bombshell said to her as well. Yes, we're well aware of the poor choice of words.

"It's below the knee for right now."

"Son of a bitch," Hailey cursed. She was up and on her feet. For the second time that day she was in a shocked daze. Will pitifully watched her pace up and down the concourse as Mouse spilled everything.

"He stepped on an IED. It didn't remove it then, but from the knee down it's all shattered, beyond repair. He wasn't awake when the decision was made and I really wish he was."

"You said for right now?"

"That's all you got out of that?"

"Mouse, answer the question."

"The extent of the damage makes it hard to judge where things are viable and good for a prosthetic. So they're going to try their best, but above is still a possibility."

"Oh God." That was when Will totally lost it, the full brunt of things hanging on until he hung up the phone.

"I'm going to call you when we land. Don't leave him alone." Will leaned his elbows onto his knees and let it all out. Fortunately it was late at night so the flight was light. Unfortunately he drew the attention of those around him. Tissues, apologies, offers to help were gently and kindly dished out, so Will had to collect himself long enough to turn them down. Hailey returned from her walk awhile later, the two zombie looking people hugging each other in their depths of despair. The hated their proximity to Jay, dreaded the two long hauls still to come. It was a silent load onto the massive plane that would take them across the Atlantic, neither spoke the entire way.

…

Seven Hours Later

The doors of doom opened, a trio of people searching for him. It was nearing midnight now, the waiting room scarce. There were a handful of people, none of them recognizing the people waiting to deliver news. Checking the chart gave them a name, a puzzling one that was definitely a first for them.

"Um…Mouse?!" Seeming to appear out of thin air, the person in question sheepishly waved a hand, apologizing for not being there when they entered. It was poor timing on Mouse's part. The entire surgery he needed to use the restroom, convincing himself the second he got up would be when Jay was done. Due to his constant pushing back of things, his assumption became factual.

"How is he?" The three people encouraged Mouse to sit and he obliged, wiping his still wet hands on his pant legs. There was a pause, like the kind you see at an award show for an element of suspense. Mouse was so frazzled and fried from the day he wasn't on board with their antics.

"He's doing alright considering. We performed a below the knee amputation. The residual limb begins about three inches below the knee. There's already a lot of swelling and bruising but he has good blood flow and viable skin for reconstruction later on. He's a great candidate for a prosthetic. Now we do have to warn there is still a chance of having to go back in. Sensation and reflex are a bit out of whack. Now that could be from the trauma or that we didn't go far enough. We're going to watch it over the next forty-eight hours and go from there." Mouse exhaled deeply, the verbiage enough to make his skin crawl. He was both nervous and relived, the thought of Jay waking to all of this still making him want to puke.

"Is he still intubated?" One of the doctors nodded.

"He'll remain sedated tonight and then we'll lift it sometime in the afternoon and see what happens."

"Pain?" They all nodded in unison, one of them rolling their eyes before turning to the spokesperson.

"Definitely. We gave him a nerve block before the operation and it appears it's not working, which is very rare. Coming off the anesthesia he actually opened his eyes for a couple of moments. Because of the breathing tube he couldn't speak but it was apparent he was in a good amount of pain. The nerve block was removed and he's on a cocktail of a lot of different meds and they seem to be doing okay. His blood pressure is also having a hard time staying level so we've got him on a couple rounds of stuff. He's currently getting a transfusion but overall, he's hanging in there." Mouse wanted to cry, run around in circles and pull all of his hair out. Jay was alive, but oh the struggles he was going to awaken to.

"Where is he?"

"In the ICU. We normally don't allow visitors at this hour, but a few minutes should be fine." Mouse was the first to get up, his entourage following behind. The four of them walked in a single line, making sure to remain silent along the way. It was definitely sleeping time at this point. The floors were quieter then a library. Hospital staff would wave as the party approached, but never once was a word uttered.

The trip was a long one, beginning down a hallway to an elevator before another set of hallways before reaching the giant, lit up ward labeled ICU. The hallways were so small and angled Mouse was intrigued how they got patients in large hospital beds around this place. Looks were given as the nursing station noted the people heading towards the darkened, sound asleep main room, but a single head nod seemed to be the secret code that got one into everything. Everyone paused at the door, making sure things were fine before heading in. It took Mouse milliseconds to locate Jay.

The room was a large, communal space, housing six patients in one space: three to the left and three to the right. Jay was at the very end on the left hand side, a small blessing considering which side was operated on. Mouse couldn't help but scan Jay's roommates, noting that no two looked the same or appeared to being going through the same recovery. Based on dressings and bed positions, there was at least one head injury, one facial reconstruction, one open chest procedure, and the rest he couldn't figure out. Jay played the amputation role for the room, Mouse concluded. As he got closer to his sound asleep friend there was this swelling of pride.

Jay looked so peaceful, which was very strange considering what was in, on, around, and no longer with him. That last part Mouse chose to ignore this evening. Oh he immediately noted the off-centeredness to the view, but he chose to focus on other things. The light of the following morning would be his time to really start coming to terms with things. But tonight Jay was alive, breathing, and recovering from major surgery. That was more then enough for anyone in his sphere right now.

"We'll leave you two alone for a bit," was whispered as Mouse took a seat in the vacant seat. He nodded his farewell while leaning over to grab the right hand. It housed the first of many hospital bands; his name, age, date of admission and surgical team printed on the label. He was wearing more monitoring cuffs and cords then before and somehow had even more IVs coming out of his arms, but behind it all it was him. An altered, medicated, unconscious version, but still Jay Halstead nonetheless.

"I'm right here. Just hang in there, Jay." Mouse collected his phone and snapped a pic, making sure to focus on the hand and right side. He wanted to provide visual confirmation to those in the air, but didn't want to share that side of things like that. It was bad enough they learned about it over the phone, it wasn't the place they needed to see it for the first time.

"Made it through and is resting in the ICU," Mouse sent to Will, smirking as he put things away.

"I might fall asleep on you," was whispered through a yawn. Mouse blinked, closed his eyes for too long, and then rested his head on the side of the bed; the events of the day finally catching up to the adrenaline. He didn't see that Will responded.

"About to take off from London. Thanks Mouse."

…

Time was completely gone from them. Location could not be pointed out on a map if their life depended on them. All they knew was that they were somewhere they had never been and it was dark out. Beyond that the two of them were at a complete loss. They were the first off the plane, somewhere between a speed walk and jog to the exit of the airport. After thousands of miles and hours of internal grief, fear, and hatred for things, they were on the same surface as Jay, finally in the time zone that he was currently residing in. A vague text message flashed across Will's phone as they taxied to the gate, instructions of a driver and car waiting for them at the carpool lanes. They were semi-excited to climb into a new mode of transportation, nervous for what they'd find at the other end, just ready to get this initial shock of things over with. The coming days and weeks weren't going to be kind, but both came to this conclusion that once they saw what was reported, they'd be able to move on from there.

"We are such a sight," Hailey laughed upon looking at herself in the passenger mirror. Will looked up from the seat belt and nodded, massaging his eyes as the van rattled into gear. Neither of them had slept in Lord only knew how long. Scare was food and drink's equated to a child's sippy cup. There were no showers to be had, both wearing the same change of clothing for at least a day and a half now. It was no wonder the driver gave them looks before allowing them into his vehicle. If nothing else they looked to be horrifically ill and now looking at themselves, both Will and Hailey had to agree.

It was a quiet half hour ride from the airport to the facility. Mostly because the driver wasn't very talkative but also because the visitors were enamored by the size and depth and pristine-ness of Dubai. Neither had ever visited, not even come to this side of the world, so it was a shock to say the least. No two buildings were alike, each one adorned in brilliant lights and grand stature. The few cars that were on the road were beyond what either could afford, the wealth of the city being shown off in the cars alone. Both had them had seen this place on television or the internet, but to actually be planted in this world was breathtaking. Comparing this city to Chicago, home felt like a small country lane. It was all so grand and stunning and sand free, which baffled Hailey the most. It was in this drive that they understood why this was considered one of the greatest and premiere locations on the globe.

Pulling up to the hospital was somber to say the least. The tightness of the chest and deep, nervous breaths were expelled as the van coasted to a halt at the main entrance. Hailey bit a side of her lip, hoping the pain of the act would prevent her from crying her eyes out again. Everything felt so dark and drenched in something terrible. No one spoke and there wasn't an ounce of helpfulness to cue that it was all going to be alright. There wasn't a Sharon Goodwin waiting to comfort them at the door nor was there going to be a free pass that allowed them to hang out for all hours of the night. It was just the two of them, three really, against whatever lay ahead of them. The only thing got Hailey from the carpark to the ICU floor was knowing that Jay was on the other end. At some point he was going to wake up and he needed familiar, friendly faces greeting him. If nothing else, that was more then enough reason for her to have dropped everything and traveled halfway around the world.

They were held up at the room where Jay was resting. Mouse was there, three cups of coffee in hand as he greeted them with a shoulder shrug. Hailey kept bobbing over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse, but so far it wasn't working.

"They're setting up another transfusion," he whispered over the cup.

"Another?"

"Yeah, it's his third I think?!"

"Since the surgery?" Mouse nodded.

"He lost a lot of blood. They said he needs a few more before he's in the clear." Will sighed, throwing his head back before pacing a few steps.

"How has he been so far?"

"Alright. His coloring is awful but that's just from the everything. He's sedated but hasn't exactly been cooperative. His heart rate has been all over and his pressure keeps spiking before going back to some level of normal."

"Yeah, that's kind of normal for this stage of things. Pain?"

"They said he woke up as he was in recovery because it was so bad. The nerve block failed so he's on a crap ton of drugs right now. It's hard to know if they're working right now because he's sedated."

"That could be the reason his heart rate is all over the place." Just the thought of Jay being unconscious yet in dire amounts of pain made Will's stomach churn. He thought about darting off to puke but held off, the nurse and doctor emerging from the darkened room with instructions.

"Keep things to a whisper and only a few minutes. People are sleeping and we'd like to keep things that way. The transfusion is in the central line so don't panic over the blood from the IV." Will smirked, assuming they weren't aware that he was a doctor. He opened the door for Hailey who took three steps before finding herself glued in place. She saw him, noted the right side and all its' normal appearance before realizing the other side wasn't going to be the same. Perhaps it was the exhaustion or fear or reality, but she looked up to Will before taking a single step back.

"You sure?" She reluctantly nodded.

"I can't…not tonight." Will wanted to dig further, but understood. Everyone was processing things differently, there wasn't a right or wrong way to get through all this.

"Okay. You doing alright?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. I'll be fine." She watched him slip into the room and quietly pad his way to Jay, closing her eyes as the tears trickled down.

"So you are.."

"-Mouse, I'm not trying to be rude or push you away or anything, but can we do this in the morning?" He mumbled an agreement, sipping the coffee as the two of them watched one of the saddest family reunions ever.

It wasn't in Will to stay in the dark. No matter how bad thing were, he had to see and understand what was happening. Perhaps that came from his medical training, or just his upbringing, but it wasn't in him to be shielded from the truth. So instead of choosing to sit on the right, Will rounded the bed and plated himself on the left side of things. It was in the journey around the bed that reality hit for the first time in the form of a sock. As is customary and required for all surgeries, all patients are required to wear these ill-fitting, grip bottomed socks before, sometimes during, and after surgery till a patient is discharged. The reasons for this are warmth or removing liability should a patient fall. The coloring is usually some terrible share that no one wants: muted yellow, sad blue, puke green, or something else. In this instance the color was puke green, fitting for the day, and the left sock was draped over the foot of the bed, driving home its' reason for being there: Jay no longer needed it.

"Hey man." Will was seriously losing the battle now. He couldn't talk anymore, the threat of screaming or cursing or just balling telling him to just sit and be there. His potential antics weren't going to be good for anyone, including Jay, and so the best option was to hold a hand and silently pray.

"It's going to be fine. You're going to get through this," Will repeated, not really sure who it was intended for. Perhaps it was the exhaustion or the jet lag or emotions that played a role in this. But to this day, Will swears that it was at this moment a sedated, drained, suffering Jay Halstead squeezed his hand in response.

So do you all completely hate me now? Yeah, I get it. If you have made it to this point, you're a wonderful person and I thank you. How is everyone doing? I must warn that things are not quite done just yet. We have one more chapter of hard times before things start to level out. Thank you so, so much for reading!