After the marathon of two intense and bizarre cases back-to-back, he hears the news from Will first.
He knows that at least some of the unit are heading to Molly's to decompress after the craziness, and he waves them off on his way to the tech room to put away some equipment. He didn't sleep well the night before, or at all really, same with the night before that, and he's been assiduously ignoring the low headache that has been hanging behind his eyes all day – no need to add alcohol and loud bar noise to the mix. He flops into his chair and wakes up the monitors, connecting to his upstairs computer and clicking through to close up and file away everything from the day until he's left with nothing but the traffic cams. He watches the flow of cars, rubbing small circles at his temple, but the silence pulses in his brain. He's tired and the headache is pressing on him, but he feels restless. Finally he sighs, turning off the computers and gathering his things, switching off the lights and pulling the clanking door shut behind him. He slides behind the wheel of his car, and considers going home, but pulls out of the lot in the other direction instead.
When he walks into Molly's there's a good crowd and he scans it for Jay as he meanders farther into the bustle. He doesn't see him, or Erin, but he does see Will nursing a beer, and Will sees him, tossing up a hand to beckon and calling out.
"Mouse!"
He nods, stopping by the bar to get a beer from Hermann before sliding onto a stool opposite Jay's brother. Beyond all the stories he's heard from Jay, he doesn't really know Will that well. Mouse met Will last of all the Halsteads.
He had made the trip off base with Jay to Chicago more than once between tours. Jay and his dad were still on speaking terms then, if only because they couldn't bear to upset Jay's mother. Mouse got the feeling the only reason Jay's dad tolerated him coming with Jay was because Jay's mother liked him so much.
Jay left message after message for Will at the doctor's base in the Sudan, telling him to come home and see their mother; Will never answered. Eventually Jay gave up trying, and then they got the call: the doctors thought she wouldn't make it through the night, so it was time to say his goodbyes. Jay stood still in the middle of the room, staring hollowly at the wall while Mouse packed their bags.
Jay held her hand as the beep of the monitor slowed, and Mouse held his. Mouse swallowed through a lump in his throat as the room was filled with the piercing cry of the flat-line, reminding him of the scream of an airstrike and he waited for the explosion. Jay didn't move as the nurse disconnected the monitor, leaving them in echoing silence. Then he stood abruptly, stalking into the hall. Mouse followed with a last backward glance at Jay's father on the other side of the bed, still holding his wife's hand, staring un-movingly at her face.
He followed Jay down the hall to the empty stairwell where Jay pulled out his phone and dialed robotically. Maybe it was some kind of cosmic joke, because of all times, this was the one where the second ring was cut off midway through and it was Will's voice that answered.
"Hello?"
Jay froze for a moment.
"Hello?" Will repeated, and Jay's lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, hollowed out and blank.
"She's gone. I hope it was worth it." Then he hung up, arms dropping to the side, still and silent and empty-eyed and Mouse felt like holding his breath. And finally the explosion – Jay's arm whipped up, hurling the phone against the far wall where it shattered, clattering to the ground in pieces. Jay stood, chest heaving, before sliding to the floor, and Mouse dropped down beside him and grief echoed in the empty space of the stairs.
Will didn't come to the funeral. Mouse stood by Jay until it came time to sit for the eulogy, and he made to slide into a pew, but Jay tugged his arm and brought him to the front and Mouse sat beside him in the family section gripping his hand and he kept thinking that this should have been Will's seat, Will's hand, and it should have been Will all along standing by his brother.
They stayed for all the services; Jay gracefully and stoically accepted the consolations of his mother's friends – and the once vibrant woman had many – and when they left, Jay didn't say goodbye to his father. They didn't speak again until after the next tour (the last tour), and it ended badly, and the rift of silence grew wider. Jay didn't speak to Will until after the tour either, when Will came bounding in after everything, after Jay had been put back together, and pretended nothing had ever been wrong, and Jay let him. Will only stayed a few days, disappearing back to New York, and Mouse didn't see him again until Will came back to Chicago for good.
He thought that he would hate the younger Halstead for what he'd done to Jay, to their mother, hate him because Jay couldn't. But Jay had told him the good stories in with the bitter ones, Jay had told him the best stories in the darkest places and when he met Will again all he could think of was Jay smiling in the middle of hell.
Now he takes a swig of his beer and smiles.
"Hey Will, how's it going?"
"Good, good. Hear you guys had a wild one."
"Yeah, guy thought he was CIA, running a whole operation in a delusion."
"Man, that's crazy." Mouse nods, glancing around the bar again.
"Jay here?"
Will shakes his head, breaking into a gleefully mischievous grin.
"He and Erin left a few minutes ago. And from the kiss we saw, it looks like he finally snagged the girl."
The gut punch of the words are everything and nothing like what Mouse expected. It's not like he isn't prepared, not like he didn't see it coming, not like he's not used to it. But he still feels suddenly breathlessly lonely in the middle of the crowd. And the worst part is that even as it hurts like hell, he's happy. Jay deserves this, and so does Erin.
Will, of course, doesn't see any of this. He sees what Mouse shows him, which is a curling smirk, and the words "About damn time."
AN: Review, review! More to come.
