As expected, this is an embellished version of 7x16 finale. Once again, I cannot thank you enough for your support.
The day was finally over. Michelle, along with her daughter, were on the plane and away from Chicago. Away from the man who destroyed her life.
He was in desperate need for alcohol and his partner, as always, had read his mind.
"I ordered you a double," she smiled at him as he sat right opposite to her.
"Thanks," he let out a deep sigh and grabbed the glass.
"So?" Hailey asked concerned.
"So, Michelle is on a plane with her daughter and her brother is gonna pick them up in Phoenix," he raised his glass trying to hide his concern and took a slight sip.
"That's great. That's great news," Hailey nodded and smiled.
"It is if she stays away from Shane," Jay still had doubts whether she could keep away from her husband.
"All you could do was buy her the ticket. The rest is up to her," Hailey responded in an almost cold voice.
Jay looked straight into her eyes. Was Hailey's attitude all an act, or was she really that unaffected by the case. No, body language was evident that it was clearly an act.
"I don't know how you went through this growing up," he said knowing he was pressing her buttons.
At the sound of that question she immediately diverted her look and stared at the floor.
"Hmm. Every situation's a little different. My dad would come home drunk after being out all night. My mom would say something to him. He would snap. I was little, so I just put a pillow over my head to try to make it all go away. But you know, she would come downstairs the next day with a bunch makeup on, trying to cover it up. You could still see the bruises. Every time, we would tell ourselves it was the last time. But, of course, it would happen again, and they were just in this terrible dance. But you know, I would close my eyes, and I would wish that somebody would come in and just put him in his place. Do what you did. You did a good thing, Jay."
In her eyes he sees it all, all her pain and anger. During their 3 years partnership, this was her most sincere confession. It was personal and intimate. Maybe a bit too intimate for Hailey. Honestly, she didn't just wish someone to put her dad in his place. She wished someone would take her away from the house. From that man. From that life.
She wished she had met Jay earlier.
"So what happened to your mom?" he asked hoping he wasn't pushing her too hard. "Where did she go?"
"Nowhere. She is still with my dad," she bluntly responded and took a long sip from her glass to hide her sorrow and disappointment.
Jay kept looking right into her eyes, amazed by her strength. She was just a kid when she went through that hell, yet she managed to wash it off and walk away unmarked. How did she do that?
How could she get out of bed every morning in that house knowing that she was living in a vicious circle of violence?
How could she aptly listen to Michelle's screams and chose to stand back?
How could her mother accept that kind of life for her children?
Voight was right. He was wired through the heart. When someone is helpless he jumps in to the rescue, no second thoughts. Even if that means risking his own life on the way.
But no matter how many people he helped, no matter how hard he tried to bury his demons, they always found a way to crawl up to the surface. They were always there, stalking him. Even when he was not thinking about them. Even on good days, they were still there and he was tired and worn because of it.
He was tired of pretending to be strong. He was tired of pretending to not be in pain. In a miraculous way he had even managed to fool his own doctor. Six weeks had gone by since the shooting but he could still feel the effects. Putting on his blouse was the least of his problems. Sometimes he had trouble performing simple tasks such as washing his hair.
Unfortunately, taking that first swing on his shoulder from Michelle's husband that day, didn't help with the situation. As a matter of fact, it felt like taking another bullet. Like a true veteran though, he washed it off and did his job, as always. There was no way though he would ever shared that little detail with anyone. Especially now that he was back to being partners with Hailey.
He often wondered whether Vought was informed about his Injured on Duty record. This is Voight we are talking about, of course he knew. He knew about everything that went down in Afghanistan and still accepted him.
Would he ever be comfortable enough to share his trauma with Hailey? No! He could never do that for the same reason he never talked to Erin about it. He was afraid. Afraid that she would change the way she looked at him. Now, there was admiration and respect in her eyes.
After six broken fingers, five broken ribs, one broken wrist, lacerated skull and over a hundred stitches, her blue eyes would look at him with pity. He was too damn proud for pity.
One thing was sure. He trusted Hailey above anyone else. He had faith in her that she would never give up on him no matter what.
After a couple of more drinks, they decided to take their little group therapy back to Hailey's house. They both needed to stay alone, but at the same time craved for each other's presence.
They crashed on the couch and sat there, side by side, for hours without saying a word, yet their silence spoke volumes.
Deep down, they both feared that the case would set their worst nightmares in motion. Jay had forgotten when was the last time he had slept peacefully. He had lost count how many times he'd wake up at night crying, screaming and soaking in sweat. How many times he had woken up disoriented, thinking he was still at war. How many times he had woken up in panic, feeling like there was no air left in the room.
He kept forcing himself to stay awake. He didn't want Hailey to witness him like that. She wouldn't be able to handle it. Suddenly, without a warning, she curled up under his arm allowing herself to fall asleep under his protection. That simple motion felt oddly intimate.
Then, he spotted with the corner of his eyes the red roses. The ones he pretended to buy for his girlfriend and ended up handing them to her. There they were, on her bedroom's nightstand in a white vase. The door was slightly open but he was almost certain. Those were his flowers. She had kept them.
He bent over to kiss her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin hot. He stared at her for a moment taking her in. He had to admit to himself, that that felt right. She belonged right there, in his arms.
Unconsciously, he pulled her even closer to his body until the air was no longer a barrier between them. Their bodies made a perfect match, like two pieces of the same puzzle.
Just like that, the miracle happened. His eye lids started feeling heavy and he let himself into the arms of Morpheus. For the first time in a long time, his dreams were not haunted by nightmares. They were dreams of hope for a better future. A future with his partner.