Hey, here's the last chapter. I hope it's okay. I'll see you below for endless waffle!
3 weeks later
They'd allowed Jay to come early. Before the masses visit their loved ones. A favor from one of Antonio's buddies. The visiting room is filled with tables with benched seating.
Jay sits on the edge of one of the benches, one leg bouncing up and down constantly, his nails drumming a rhythm with his nails onto the table. He hears the door creak open and looks up, it's one of the correctional officers who steps to his side, holding the door open.
It's another minute until Jay sees her. Another ten seconds after that when she sees him, stops dead and turns away.
Jay stands up. "Marcie, don't walk away."
Slowly she turns again, strolling deliberately slowly to a table several feet away from him. Some kind of attempt at power play, perhaps. Jay lets it pass by without comment, watching as she sits down, folds her arms and fixes him with a bored stare, then he crosses the short distance to the table, breathes deeply and sits down.
She looks like she's barely slept, which makes two of them, although that's not strictly true, for lately anyway. It's getting better bit by bit for Jay. Sort of.
Marcie's hair's turning gray fast all over. She's not wearing makeup and looks older than her years, and her complexion's dull against the correctional center's plain clothing. Once upon a time Jay had thought she was almost beautiful. That notion disappeared several weeks ago. Today, even before they speak, Jay knows it would never come back.
Today's part of the process to make it even better for Jay, though now he's here, he's lost for words.
Marcie for her part busies herself with inspecting her fingernails, chewing on a cuticle until.
"Halstead. That's your name, right?"
"Yeah."
She raises her eyes. "Enjoy double crossing an old lady, did ya?"
Jay almost laughs. "You're still going to try that old trick? You're still gonna keep up the act because I wasn't the only one playing a role, was I, Marce? I gotta ask, was it worth it? Was he worth it when you ended up taking the plea deal, anyway?"
Only one night she'd lasted here with the bravado that she'd take any sentence given to her for what she'd confessed to. The Metro Correctional Center changes minds fast.
The next day, the truth or the version according to Marcie had spilled out. Hearing about Barnet seemed to shake her. She'd given locations. Names. They'd found a quantity of drugs, paperwork hidden in a box within the frame of her bed in her apartment. Signs of money she'd coerced from some of the victims. Perhaps to fund the rehab, Jay had genuinely considered funding for her himself at one point. Enough to put her away for a long time. As it stands, it'll be a fraction of that long time now.
"None of those men loved their lives."
"Well, they certainly didn't after Price got his claws in them. After you softened them up. Between you both and Barnet, these guys never stood a chance." Jay leans forward. "You knew that they intended to kill your own son, and you just let it happen. What kind of mother does that?"
"You could never understand."
"You're right. I couldn't. I never will. How's life without oxy now, huh Marce? How do you sleep at night?"
Marcie rubs her face with one hand, while the other fidgets with her hair. She looks away, toward the door then as if Price was right there sliding a mask onto her face, she looks back at him, placing a hand on the table, her fingers almost touching his, inclining her head and raising her eyebrows.
"Better than you, huh, Jay? I don't have to live with myself being a cop. Killing a kid. I don't have to live with memories you thought you'd pushed right down."
Jay shakes his head briefly at the officer who'd stepped nearer to them on seeing the change in Marcie's posture and demeanor.
"The difference between me and you, Marce? Me and the other people, particularly those other people who got through all that the three of you put us through? We still have people around us who care or we found people who care." He points to Marcie. "And then there's you, you can feign all the indifference you want but there'll come a time when no one visits and if you think the days feel long here, wait till its years you have ahead of you. And Price won't be waiting for you when you get out, if you make it that far. It'll be the rest of your life in bail hostels. Trying to scratch a living."
She meets his stare, though she pulls her hand away as Jay continues.
"You trying to push down the memories and the guilt because it took me too long to figure it out, but now I have and we both know you knew full well what happened. You hated your son because he impeded you and this perfect idyll with Price."
"I wanted to be a grandma and then he came back all fucked up and it was like seeing my future fade into dust. I thought him getting a purpose would help. Then she came along, turned his head and ruined everything."
Jay shakes his head. "No Marcie, you ruined everything, not Kacey or anyone else. It was all you. Every other person who got hooked up around you tried to find a better way. I just hope it was worth it."
He sees the moment of realization, the panic flash across her features as Jay slides off his seat and stands up looking down at her.
"You lied to everybody. You lied to me about your kid, about Eddie. You lied to my partner too. You lied habitually and perhaps aside from when you got here and realized you couldn't cope with twenty or thirty years in prison, so you told the truth for once, you lied to yourself every single day. To change properly that's gotta stop, Marce."
Jay turns away, placing his hands in his jacket pocket, walking towards the visitor exit till her hand grabs at his arm.
"No touching!"
"It's okay," Jay assures the officer before he turns his head, and sees the tears in her eyes. The panic that's etched on her features now instead of just a flash of it.
"I really am sorry."
Jay looks down at her hand. For a second, he almost believes her, but then he looks at her again and realizes, shrugs her hand off.
"No, you're not. Except, sorry for yourself."
He thinks she says something, and he looks over his shoulder for just a second, sees one hand on her hip, the other gesturing angrily toward him, then toward the officer who tries to shepherd her away.
Jay doesn't know what he expected, but this? It was both worse and yet everything he's come to understand Marcie's about.
"How'd it go?" Al asks Jay after several minutes of silence when Jay had got back into the truck.
Jay glances toward the building he'd just been in, rubs his forehead and then his neck where there seem to be new knots that have developed since before he saw her. He looks straight ahead then, feeling the now familiar headache building. A new symptom of stress that's crept in over the last couple of weeks.
"I could use a shower," he replies.
Al makes a sympathetic noise. "You still okay to go to the 21st? Noone would mind if you changed it to tomorrow instead."
Jay smacks Al's arm lightly, smiling appreciatively. "Nah, man. I wanna go. Just would you mind if we made a stop first on the way?"
"Course not."
Al starts the engine as Jay looks out this window one more time, shakes his head, filling his head with what's ahead rather than behind him.
It almost seems like Jay never left. That it wasn't last year, in Autumn, when Jay last stepped into the bullpen. When Jay last looked at the board and convinced Voight he should go undercover.
It's no longer that case on the board. Although the board could be in the tech room, kept out of sight to not trigger Jay. Whatever the reason, he's relieved.
Everyone welcomes him back with a hug or a squeeze of his shoulder.
"Did it go okay, bro?" Antonio asks as he pulls away from the hug. He looks like he doesn't believe Jay when he replies that it did. Sometimes, it can almost feel like a curse to have worked with these people for so long.
Jay finds Hailey in the break room, looking behind him quickly as he hurries to her side. His mood lightens instantly as she smiles at him. That's one thing that's changed for sure since he was last here.
"Hey."
"Hey. How was it?" She gestures toward the drink she's just prepared. Jay shakes his head to the drink, grimacing in response to her question.
"That bad?"
"Yeah. Still, at least it's over and I'm still glad I did it. I think."
She looks past him and apparently satisfied with what she saw; she grabs his hand, squeezing it. "We can talk about it tonight. Though I know you're seeing the therapist later so we can also talk about anything other than that too."
"Other would be good," Jay replies, squeezing back.
"Got it," she releases her hand quickly as Voight clears his throat from his position by the door.
Voight isn't unaware of the development in Hailey and Jay's relationship. He'd seemed completely unsurprised, but it's still early days and PDA's where they work probably aren't the best idea.
"Got a minute before you go see the shrink, Jay? Thought we'd update you on everything with the case?"
"Yeah, okay Sarge."
"And then I spoke to Kayleigh Alexander. Informed her about Barnet. She contacted me the next day and asked if I could tell her if there'd be a memorial or a service. Said she needed closure," Kevin tells Jay.
"In the meantime, I contacted or tried to contact Amelia Fischer. Got no response, so Antonio and I visited her home." Kim adds.
"No sign of her and we spoke to a neighbor. Said she's left the city, permanently," Antonio concludes.
Jay's sitting on the edge of Hailey's desk, holding on tight. Hailey's next to him as he absorbs the information with a nod.
"We got a trial date for Price yet, or do we know when Marcie will be sentenced?" He inquires.
"He's playing hardball via his lawyers. April at the earliest was the last I heard, and we're still looking at charges for the bar owners who handled the coke," Al replies.
"Marcie's looking at sentencing in early March if all goes to plan." Hailey puts in.
Jay pushes off of Hailey's desk. "Not sure if Hailey said, but I had a message from Steven Flynn saying when all this was over, he wanted to meet up. He's with Helen till we need him, right?"
"Yeah," Al confirms, "Last I heard, Kacey and Anthony had followed them there too, just for a change of scenery till the DA decides whether to file charges against Anthony but for what we did to assist I doubt they will and I think that's why they let him leave the state. The Flynn's are setting up some kind of charitable trust in their kid's names. Apparently Mrs Flynn took everything real hard, doesn't want to come back here so rather than setting it up in Chicago, they'll set it up there."
"You plan to meet him?" Voight returns to Flynn's request.
Jay frowns, "Probably. I vowed that I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him we got justice. I guess we'll have to wait to see if we get that for him, for them all. Also I owe him, and Kacey and Anthony for each time they told Hailey where I was."
He looks at his feet, aware of the quiet in the bullpen now. He clears his throat, glancing at his watch.
"Anyway, I should go. Thanks, really thanks everyone for having mine and Hailey's backs."
There's a chorus of 'forget about it' and 'you got it, brother' around the room and Jay shuts his eyes, relieved and exhausted all at once that he knows all he needs to know for now.
Everyone disperses, their attention turning to the board. Returning to the current case while Voight walks back towards his office, Jay's voice stopping him.
"Sarge, you got a minute?"
"Sure? In there?" Voight half turns, pointing toward his office and continuing when Jay nods.
"You want me to take you when you're done with Voight?" Hailey asks Jay, who pauses in the doorway of Voight's office.
"No, I'm good. Could use the exercise. A little time to think you know."
Hailey nods. Without question. As always, embodying understanding and acceptance of Jay when he needs it.
The rollercoaster of emotions hasn't stopped since Jay left the hospital. Hailey sleeps, but the quality of it is terrible. Every day she wakes up exhausted. She's spent some time at Jay's and he's spent a few nights with her, but Jay's still healing. Still struggling with the nightmares. It's only been 3 weeks, they need to be patient.
The case is moving forward, well enough that they're able to look at another for the first time in months. It's positive, but it doesn't stop Hailey from making sure nothing's left to chance. She knows she's not alone in that.
She's tried to find Terry, but so far no luck. She won't give up because without him, she'd have gone crazy in the bar sometimes. Without his words of warning, she would've been even less prepared for what followed. And what he knows, what he didn't tell her. She knows it could be invaluable. She wants to know he's okay too. Needs to know. Something about closure.
Amidst the case, the worrying about Jay, thoughts about Terry, is the contrast with the good.
The good that is her and Jay, the way it's only been 3 weeks, or a few weeks longer if she can even count the time they were undercover, as the two of them, haileyandjay and how it feels like they get each other in a way she's unfamiliar with.
In amongst it all is a building feeling of needing to put everything behind her. Everything starting with Garrett and the fact that this time it didn't turn out like that but there's an ever present fear that remains that it didn't happen this time but what about the next?
There's time for that later, of course. True to form, she'll coax Jay into talking and talking and neglect that side of herself until they reverse the roles and Jay'll persist long enough till she agrees.
They're really two sides of the same coin, and yet somehow it works. She needs to learn to accept it, enjoy it without fearing or inviting the worst their way.
If only it were that easy.
The rain pouring down and the dark clouds in the sky on his walk here had been a perfect match to Jay's mood, even though it went well with Voight. Now as he steps out of the elevator, still brushing the excess rain from his head and onto the carpeted floor, he presses the second button, rubbing his temple, the headache looming.
It's always worse in the minutes before these appointments.
The buzzer sounds, and he hears the click of the door, pushes it open and he crosses his fingers for a second, hoping for the best.
"How do you feel now? Glad you went because at least it's done now or sorry I ever suggested it?"
Dr Hardaker is about the furthest away from the stereotype of a therapist as it's possible to be.
Recommended by Dr Charles and on the list of shrinks who can sign Jay back to work ultimately, given he had no choice but to take part in it, it was him or go with someone no one knew anything about.
Jay's seen him twice a week since the day after he'd been discharged.
Hardaker's not much older than Jay. Wears jeans. Smiles a lot. Swears a lot and originally from London, has a good line in sarcasm. He's also brilliant at his job and not eccentrically. In a way that means Jay doesn't really realize how good until something clicks later on that night or in the days after.
The question he'd just asked Jay typical of the bluntness, unafraid to ask something that could result in Jay's criticism or him lashing out.
"Can I say both?"
"Of course. Let me try another question, do you think it set you back? Anything that's made you doubt your conviction that you're fine, it's all tickety-boo?"
Jay smirks. "Tickety-boo?"
"Yeah, piss off. Deal with it. Also avoidance noted, Jay. You should know how it goes by now, mate. 5 minutes added on for each obvious avoidance tactic."
Jay appreciates he's not able to bullshit him. He purses his lips.
"I don't think I was ever under any illusion that I'm fine. Or at least not since after I woke up. Before I was. Convinced myself I was just a little beaten down by everything."
"Morgan? And Erin's departure?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, and now? I'm talking specifically now, mate. Like if I told you I'm willing to sign you back on, a week or two of light duties. Could be even less if you commit to continuing with me. How would you feel, honestly? If it happened again, your bullet found it's way through a door, killing a kid again. That terrify you?"
"Yeah, yeah it does."
There's a flicker of a smile on Hardaker's face, approval for Jay's honesty. "Go on," he urges Jay.
"I'm terrified to go back. I'm terrified of a bullet hitting another kid. I'm terrified that one of my bullets hits Hailey instead because everyone always leaves, eventually. I'm scared that everything I said to Marcie bites me on the ass and I end up in gen pop one day on account of one of my bullets hitting someone."
"Well, thanks fo-."
"I hadn't finished, Doc." At Hardaker's palms up apology, Jay continues, "I live this nightmare most nights. The one where a bullet hits someone else. Sometimes it's Morgan and sometimes it's someone and I don't see their face because fear already woke me up. Sometimes it's Hailey, hell even one time, it was you. The thing is, what else do I do?"
"Live on that island? Ikaria, wasn't it? Set up that intelligence unit, Greek Island style, live the life you're allowed to have. That you deserve to have, Jay."
"For a month until I'd get bored," Jay looks down at his hands. "Okay, so what I'm going to say next will sound crazy, especially given I'm here after almost dying, but bear with me?"
Hardaker makes a light scoffing sound, "Jay, I'm a therapist. Crazy's what makes me tick. Nothing you can say could phase me, you should know that by now."
"Ok, what if being terrified is what's kept me alive so far? What if every memory I have of Tabssum and Morgan is what drives me? Makes me eventually get better. Keeps Hailey safe as long as she's my partner."
"That's not crazy, mate. But it's a fucking terrible way to live your life and I get that Hailey means the world to you and that protecting people whatever the cost to you is what motivates you, but your sanity matters too, Jay. You matter. What's stopping you from falling down that pit again? What's stopping an accident happening or some evil bastard taking it out of your hands and something awful happens to someone you love and you take on something straight after that sends you falling too deep this time? I tell you what the answer is, nothing."
"So I never get to go back?"
"Not what I said. I'll sign you back to light duties tomorrow, Jay. I will, but the trouble is look at this session today alone. What have we talked about? Important stuff, sure, but old stuff. Stuff we can deal with, but stuff that means you avoid talking about what brought you here. Things that keep you awake at night."
"Morgan and Tabssum keep me awake at night," Jay argues.
"True, but they're not the only things that do and when you're here you talk about them so yeah we need to face them, but at least you're not afraid of them. You don't cringe or get defensive when I mention them."
Hardaker claps his hands suddenly. "Yet if I just said GHB, you cringe. You probably don't realize you do it, but you just did, and yet you didn't even flinch when I clapped my hands. It's normal. It's PTSD, it affects everyone so differently but there are things we can do. Ways I can help. Treatments that'll give you an arsenal of coping techniques to get you through life and if something sideswipes you and adds to it, you come back, we add to that arsenal but right now you ain't even giving me the material I need to help you build it. That makes you dangerous to yourself, and that's all I care about."
Dragging his chair closer, his voice lowering, "You're the one I need you to care about."
Jay nods, though he doesn't look at Hardaker. His fingers pull at a loose thread on the material of the chair he's in. His thoughts flying in different directions.
"You with me, Jay?"
After maybe thirty seconds, Jay finally responds.
"Yeah." releasing the bit of material finally, he repeats, "Yeah I am, doc."
Falling silent again, Jay can feel Hardaker's eyes on him. Can still hear him say 'GHB'. Can recognize suddenly how back in the bullpen on hearing about the case, he'd had to grip hard onto the edge of Hailey's desk, his knuckles turning white almost because if he hadn't, he'd have run. Fight or flight. Hardaker's right, it's a terrible way to live your life when it's just one part of it and there's so much else that's good in life for him if he can just learn how to live with it.
He counts down from ten in his head then zero comes and he makes the leap..
"So what if I said I don't wanna go back tomorrow? What if I said I'm not ready but I hear you and if you agree then maybe I will be with time and honesty?"
Hardaker smiles, squeezes Jay's knee, "I'd say I'm all ears Jay, my friend, I'm all ears."
Jay's drained when he leaves the room, headache back with a vengeance. He shakes Hardaker's hand and the door slams behind him. Drained he may be also he's hopeful for the first time in who knows how long.
Hailey's waiting for him by the elevator and he blinks with surprise that turns into delight when, with one hand behind her back at first, she then brings it forward, handing the thermos to him with a flourish. It's become their thing absolutely though, usually for Hailey as she'd leave for work in the morning or during the day while Jay was recovering.
He hugs it close to him, "Thank you."
It's all that either of them say as they go downstairs in the elevator and step out onto the sidewalk.
They're nearly at the truck when Hailey stops him. "So what happened?"
Jay looks nervous, so Hailey braces herself. To counsel Jay through the frustration of a delay in his return. A return to normalcy.
"I'm coming back. Just a little later than we talked about."
She hates that she was right. "Why? Not even on lighter duties for a little while?"
Jay holds up a finger and is that a grin on his face as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope? She thinks it is. He holds onto it.
"I talked to Voight. And to the doc and uh, I'm ready, but I don't feel rested. I don't feel like me and I know you're staying on top of your emotions for me but you were undercover too, Hails and well what's in the envelope could be too soon and if it is that's fine. Please just open it," he instructs as he hands her the envelope.
She takes it, pulling it open and reaching into the envelope, pulling out what's inside. A pouch with the United Airlines logo on it. She lifts the flap and looks inside.
Tickets. A bunch of them.
"The reason there are so many tickets is we have to get a bunch of fIights; the time of year for one and few direct flights to Athens never mind where we'll end up." Jay explains.
Where they'll end up only becomes clear as Hailey holds up the third ticket and her mouth falls open with shock.
"Jay!"
"It's just ten days. All I could square off with Voight with you being gone too. With the flight time, it's just nine days there, but I found a place to stay, the one place we can stay at this time of year in Ikaria."
"Ikaria," Hailey repeats, still in shock. "Jay, what the hell? You keep on surprising me. How do you do that?" She looks at the tickets again, then holding them against her with one hand, she lifts her hand to caress Jay's neck.
He shrugs as though it's the most normal thing for him to have done. "You keep on making me want to. Now what do you say we go home and pack?"
She shakes her head, "I say what do you say when I tell you I love you, Jay?"
"I'd say I love you right back."
They stare at each other for long moments, not wanting them to end until she stands on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss against his lips before pulling away, casting one last look down at the tickets she's amazed haven't faded into thin air by now and still she doesn't want the moment to end, but for once, for the first time in so long for them both, there's something to look forward to.
The moment does end, though, of course. But then he's still beside her. Living. Breathing and altering her expectations of what it means to fall in love and stay in love.
For now, at least, it feels that easy.
And there it is. I really can't believe it's complete. I started this story on the back of not being able to sleep at night sometimes, and these random plots forming in my head. The plot that inspired this was quite different, even darker actually. I'm kinda satisfied with where we ended up though as a perfectionist, never totally. This is by far the longest story I've ever written. The hardest story to write but the most enjoyable too. Eternally grateful to my shower for whenever I'd get frustrated with myself and know I was in the mood to write, but nothing was happening when my fingers hovered over the keyboard for ages. It always came through. Without the power of those shower thoughts and planning a scene in my head, I don't know if I'd have finished it. Just wanna know when will they invent something that automatically transfers the scenes in my head straight into a laptop without me promptly forgetting it all by the time I sat down.
This fic has been unbeta-ed really so any mistakes down to me but would have got nowhere without Leonor, your endless support, particularly in the early days of this story. I hope if you read this at any point, you understand how grateful I am. And Sofia for your kindness and support too and anyone and everyone who encouraged me here and elsewhere.
And of course, thank you x a hundred million/billion/trillion/squillion/to infinity for all your reviews. Each one made my day. Even if you only read 1 chapter in which case you're unlikely to see this but if you ever do thank you so much. If you were there from beginning to end, I hope you're happy or not mad about how it all concluded. Thank you so much again for everything. You helped me stay distracted from 2020. I hope this story did that for you too just a little bit.
Oh god this is like Gwynneth Paltrow's cringy Oscar speech so I'll shut up. Please stay safe. Got a few ideas for long fics, feel free to PM though and I think I'll do some short fics as well, maybe even some follow ups to this? Most excitingly, it's finally time to READ lots of fics. (does happy dance) AND the return of OC and the rise of Upstead! Ok, really shutting up now, bye!