Hiya, so again I ended up writing another big chapter and so I'm splitting it into two again. I sound like a broken record I know, but your reviews, your encouragement and your lovely words encourage me so very much. I'm so grateful. Massive thanks to Nons again, more grateful than I can ever express. xx
Hope you 'enjoy' x
He wears a soccer jersey. Manchester United, he tells Jay. One day he'll go to the United Kingdom to see them play, maybe if he keeps practising long enough, hard enough, he'll even play for them.
"What's your name?" Jay asks, crouching down to the kid's eye level.
The kid blinks at Jay. He's got dark brown hair with a fringe that's a little too long, huge brown eyes, a thousand and one eyelashes and the most glowing brilliant smile a child could have.
"Babur," he answers eventually as he holds the soccer ball with one hand and a girl's hand, a girl younger than him, with the other.
"And how old are ya?"
"9," Babur replies, "he nods his head toward the girl, whose hair is tied backwards, she's wearing a dress with flowers: daisies Jay thinks, beaming proudly, "This is my sister Tabssum, she's 4."
Jay grins, reaching into one of his pockets and finding what he always carries, just in case, little fragments of light on patrol amongst the frequent darkness that surrounds this place, this country.
He pulls out the lollipops and hands one for each of them to Babur, who lets go of his sister's hand to take them, even as he hears. "Private," and then, "Halstead," though he doesn't look around at first.
Babur's eyes light up and he unwraps them both, starting with the strawberry flavored one which he hands to Tabssum before doing the same with the lemon-flavored lollipop.
"Thank you Sir," he says gratefully before he sucks the sweet.
"Hey, no problem Babur, Now go take your sister home to your mom and dad, okay?" Jay instructs, ruffling Babur's hair gently before as he straightens and stands up he adds, "I'll see you on the TV one day playing soccer for Manchester United just like you said."
His words are lost in the wind and the way Babur and Tabssum are already walking away hand in hand.
Disappearing into the crowds and the market stalls.
Jay takes a couple dozen steps before his hearing distorts, and he's not standing up anymore. Instead rocks, glass and stones fly around him, onto his body, and then it's only broken noises, sounds of alarms and shouting that he doesn't quite hear.
As he lifts a hand to his ears and pulls it away, looking down at his fingers, he can see crimson. As he manages to stand, whirling around, unsteady on his feet at the speed at which he turns, on the ground there's a river of crimson too.
Someone grabs his arm. Concern etched on their face. It's Mouse, and he pulls Jay away and Jay's obedient, he follows relieved that as his hearing comes back gradually and his other senses come to bit by bit, as far as he can see there's no damage or injuries to the guys in his unit.
Only him and he'll be fine. It was only him who was lingering because he always wants to make the kids smile.
Jay freezes, for a second, before he turns, it's more of a stumble than a run at first back towards where he was.
Through the carnage. Among the screaming and the crying. The wailing. It's louder now, unending, insistent. Jay could be here for the next twenty years and he would never be used to this sound.
He doesn't have to look far. He finds the soccer ball first. Or what's left of it.
Tabssum is already gone. As though she's sleeping. Barely a graze on her. Babur is on his side, facing her, tiny gasps that even in the brief time Jay's been by his side the time between them is lengthening.
There's blood on the side of his head and obvious blast injuries, which Jay knows are beyond help.
Jay holds Babur's hand. Had considered turning him over but lets him stay facing his precious sister.
Jay whispers, in and amongst the chaos, as he kneels down beside the boy.
"Next time, you'll play for Manchester United. I promise you. Next time, Tabssum will be there watching, I promise you."
A hand squeezes Jay's shoulder, but Jay ignores it. Focused on the ghost of a smile, a mere shadow of the smile he'd seen before, that appears and he could've imagined it. It's better than a tear, though.
A tear that Jay himself can't stop in time from sliding down his face as Babur breathes for the last time, one shuddered tiny breath.
There should be more of a fuss for the deaths of 2 young children. Except as Jay eventually walks away, Mouse at his back as always, he knows where do you start?
How do you begin to cherry pick when Babur and Tabssum's stories are not even the stories of the first and second children lost and won't be the last?
Jay jumps into the humvee, dimly aware of the medic shining a torch into his ear and asking if he's okay but his attention is fixed on the road behind him and he looks again one last time, looks away and back again so fast when he sees not only 2 small figures waving but another, someone who doesn't belong here, then again who does?
Then Babur taps Morgan on the shoulder and kicks the ball to the ground and the 3 of them skip away.
Just as Jay wakes up.
"Oh man, if I had a dime for every time I saw a soldier with the expression you're wearing right now?"
The voice pulls Jay from the fog and he looks around him quickly, down at the glass he's holding and then at the person behind the voice.
If it were Hailey or Al or Will or hell even Voight, he thinks he'd see emotions ranging from thinly veiled to unabashed concern.
Barnet looks almost gleeful instead. He's at the end of the bar, his hand wrapped around a bottle Jay hadn't served him so who knows how long Jay was lost in the world he's found himself stuck in all day.
Jay sets the glass down on the bar in front of him and glances at his watch. It's almost 7pm and still there's no sign of Marcie.
It's been 4 days without seeing her. 4 days in which every step Jay takes in this bar or even outside it, he's on his guard in case Barnet's following him.
Of course, Ryan Foster acts like it doesn't bother him. It's likely that Barnet could call him out on it at any stage.
Jay turns back to Barnet and shrugs, "I don't get them that much anymore but when I do," he makes a sign with his hands like a bomb exploding.
"Demons always have a habit of coming back to haunt ya, Foster."
Jay snorts out a laugh even though it's not funny, it's the least amusing thing, but Barnet laughs, genuinely. Like Jay told the funniest joke, and he made the wittiest comeback. Not a conversation, brief as it is, between 2 former soldiers about the damage of war.
Barnet beckons Jay closer with his hand and as Jay joins him, the older man leans in. His breath, a mix of alcohol and cigarettes.
"This is why I said we could help, not yet. Soon, though. Soon you'll never need to worry about those memories again, if you want it that is, my help I mean." Barnet clarifies.
There's no comfort in Barnet's promise, it sounds more like a threat, but somehow Jay finds a smile and a certain nod and an exhale that speaks of relief and hope that someone without Jay's knowledge of everything around this place would probably find in his words.
"That would be great, man."
Barnet's expression turns glacial. Cold, angry and there's a sharp raise of the eyebrows before he fixes Jay with a glare, "Man? Learn some respect, Foster, if not for me, you'd better learn it fast before I introduce you to the others."
Jay hopes he looks suitably chastened even though inside he wants to tell this piece of shit, he's not scared. He's repulsed, yes, but scared and chastened? Hell, you don't have Voight as your superior for as long as Jay has to be fearful of people like this.
You don't live through the experiences Jay has to get scared easily.
"Yes sir," he replies dutifully as though it's 2008 again and not 2017.
Barnet nods, murmurs, "Better," as he slides off the stool and picks up his drink, ready to walk away.
"Sir?" Jay starts and though Barnet doesn't turn immediately, he pauses giving Jay the cue to continue, "Is Marcie okay?"
Barnet turns slightly, "Marcie's good, she's taking some time. She gets confused, sometimes she says a lot of things that make little sense so we give her a rest. Part of the reason I hired you."
"Ok, I'll contact her, see if I can go see her," Jay replies, turning away himself back toward the glass he'd been holding before, ready to put it away.
Till a hand stops him, pulls him around and Barnet's in his face, breathing heavily.
"You want me to help you, kid, you gotta help yourself first. Stop sticking your nose into things that don't concern you. Marcie is just a fucked up old lady who me and a couple of other people help. She doesn't need you, got it?"
Jay swallows, "Yes sir," and this time Barnet looks friendly, satisfied even.
"I like you Foster, you learn fast. It's good."
Without another word, he walks away, picking up his drink once more and disappearing through the door.
Hailey locks the computer and picks up the papers from the printer, placing them in the folder before she knocks on Voight's door and enters when he beckons her in.
"The latest transcripts from yesterday, Sarge," she hands over the file.
"Anything?"
Hailey shakes her head, "Not really, more veiled and not so veiled threats for Ryan to not step out of line, oh and Halstead asked about Marcie, said she's off the grid for a while when he pursued it, he got another threat."
Voight looks up from the file, "What are you thinking?"
Hailey shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head, "We know Barnet's a violent asshole. Has a giant chip on his shoulder about something. We could interview his ex, the one he was in County for trying to murder?"
"You don't think Halstead could find out anymore about her and that whole situation from Barnet?"
"He could, Sarge but even if Barnet opened up which feels unlikely it's only half the story, right?"
Voight considers her words, "We got anything on whoever bailed Brian Townsend each time, hired the expensive lawyer?"
"No, well we think we have the lawyer but he's on vacation and Ruzek and Atwater went to the offices and found nothing so we think the guy's keeping the files somewhere at home."
"Halstead know about the autopsy results for Townsend yet?"
"I'll let him know tomorrow."
"Take Olinsky with you to meet him, I gotta be at the Ivory Tower."
"Ok," Hailey hesitates at the doorway, "Sarge, I got a bad feeling we're missing something big."
"Such as?"
Hailey throws her hands up, "I don't know, that's the point. I guess I'm concerned that the moment Halstead gets further in, what if it's too late by that point?"
"You got concerns about whether he's handling it?"
"No more than I did before. I don't know." she replies honestly.
"Ok, find out more about the ex-girlfriend. See if she's still in Chicago and take Atwater if she is."
Hailey taps the doorway in acknowledgement, "Thanks, sarge."
Marcie lives on South Justine Street. In an apartment. Jay gets the address from Hailey, who sounds concerned but not concerned enough to stop Jay.
It's fairly quiet, shortly after the rush of the school runs but early enough that he can still make it comfortably to open the bar on time, as Jay presses the button to be let in. There's no response and Jay steps backward, trying to calculate which of the places is Marcie's. Luck intervenes when a young woman with a small child opens the door to leave allowing Jay to go in.
Marcie's apartment is up 2 flights of stairs, though there's an elevator Jay opts not to take.
He knocks on the door and when there's no sign of any response, knocks again till he hears, "Okay, okay, where's the fire? I'm coming," and smiles at her voice, then as she opens the door, he grins, "Surprise."
It's not a look of happiness on her face as she sees him, more shock than anything.
"Ryan, the hell are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?"
Jay feigns a frown, pouting his lips and mumbles, "Aren't you happy to see me?"
He's pulled into a hug before he can even blink and hears her say, "You're so silly. Of course I am," as she releases him and holds him at arm's length, she narrows her eyes, "But also you dodged my question, Ryan."
Jay signals behind Marcie, "If you let me in, make me a drink. I'll tell you what you can find on the internet, Marcie."
Her eyes widen but her entire demeanor relaxes, "You aren't going away till I let you in are ya? Ok, so coffee, let me guess you're not a black coffee kinda guy are you?"
Jay says nothing, his thoughts jumping to Hailey for a second before coming back to now, he shakes his head and grins as he squeezes her hand and lets go, walks past her and into her place. That's not as grim or desolate as he had imagined.
It's brighter, more windows than he thought. Pictures on the walls, mostly of Brian, some of Brian and Marcie, and there's a smell of pot-pourri in the air.
Jay looks across to where Marcie's preparing the coffee, pouring in the milk and creamer. Watches her hands which don't shake and as she lifts the mug and walks over to join Jay, he can see she looks less ruffled, more rested. Less wasted.
He takes the mug from her, and they sit down together.
"Peter knows you're here?" she asks him, anxiety clear in her tone.
"What I do in my time, Marcie, is up to me and that includes visiting my friends."
Her eyes light up but it's for a second before her expression darkens, "Does he though?"
Jay shakes his head, "I won't tell him, will you?"
"No, I wouldn't. I trust you, Ryan. I can't remember the last time I trusted anyone."
"Thought any more about the program?"
Marcie looks away, "Some other time. You know, is it a one time only offer or?"
Jay reaches for Marcie's hand, squeezing it gently so she looks back at him, "Never. Come back to the bar though so I can see you're okay? Keep my eyes on you and perhaps I can help you when the craving gets too much."
"See I'd love to, but he told me to keep away for a bit."
"Who? Barnet?"
"Yeah except I'm certain he was just the messenger."
"For who?"
"Mr. Price, like always. You know Peter can be lovely. He's damaged. Mr. Price saved him. Just as he saves everyone. He'll try to save you too Ryan, be careful with how he does it. What he does."
Jay observes Marcie. There's a clarity to her now. Less uncertainty. Less of the fog there'd been when she'd been at the bar. Belatedly Jay wonders if it's the right time to get her to come back.
He wonders how long things'll stay like this at home though. Especially if they find out, he's visited her and they discover she's not as good as her word. If the Oxy kicks in and she's careless.
The clarity is good where the case is concerned though and for now it opens an opportunity as she seems less jittery. Jay tries again. The question he'd asked before.
"What do you think happened to Eddie, Marcie? And everyone else? What do you really think?"
"Oh Ryan, you're like a spy or something I swear I think awful things happened to them all," she falters before after taking a deep breath, she continues, "Including Brian, it's strange that he was doing okay. Not great, but okay, and any messes he got tangled up in. They magically disappeared and remember what I said? He promised."
Jay doesn't know about the autopsy results yet. He won't till tomorrow, except he's already certain in his mind that there'll be similarities and it's a delicate balance too because even when he finds out, even if there's that consistent theme again, what use would Marcie knowing it do?
Especially now when Jay's undercover and feeling his way deeper into the world Marcie's been a part of for so long.
So he backs off.
"Yeah, I remember, Marce." he settles on, offering the warmest smile he can summon before he takes a sip from the coffee.
"You're a good man, Ryan. Your mom must be so proud," she lays a hand on his arm.
Jay sets the mug on the table in front of them, "Yeah, except mom died. A little while after I got back from Afghanistan. Took care of her while my dad fell apart and my brother stayed away."
The bitterness isn't as fresh as it was, but it slips back into place like an unwelcome friend as Jay looks into the distance, building on the story for Ryan that's at least in part a reflection of his own experiences.
"I'm so sorry, honey. Didn't realize you had a brother, is he older or younger?"
Jay glances back to her, "Older. He came back to the city eventually but no idea where he is now. He gave up on me."
"And your father?"
Jay shakes his head, "I didn't come here to talk about me, Marcie."
She looks at him with a pitying expression, "Strikes me you have no one to talk to about you. And I appreciate you have this enormous wall built up all around you and your emotions. I see that, but one day you have to talk to someone, right?"
Jay's about to respond when Marcie continues.
"I imagine talking to me isn't ideal though. Peter, though? Yeah, I'll talk to Peter so he helps you."
Jay peers at Marcie over the top of the mug. Maybe he's imagining it except the concern minutes ago to now and suddenly Barnet being the answer feels so marked in its difference.
Perhaps Price is the problem, and Barnet's misunderstood? Jay suspects it's more of the former and still Barnet's a problem.
Regardless of whether it's real or imagined, it's enough that for the first time since he stepped in the bar, he feels on his guard around her though he gives no sign of it.
"I'll be okay, Marcie."
Her smile is tight, "Yeah, yeah I guess we'll see."
The trouble Jay thinks is that Marcie's not practiced enough. She's not an actress.
Whatever the truth is or the extent of her involvement in all of this. Whether or not it's innocent, whether it's unintentionally leading Ryan to where Eddie and everyone including her own son have ended up or whether there's more to it, she's not as effective at changing the subject or her tone as anyone else involved in this whole thing so far and strangely she seemed better at covering when she was struggling in the bar. More authentic.
At least it's something when so far there's a lot of nothing or sparks of something that burn away fast.
He stays a while longer, as long as he can get away with and attempts to draw any more from her, he can before he heads to the bar, unable yet to convince her to come back. He gets nothing else.
Jay leaves there, troubled rather than reassured.