Hi guys! Are you okay? I hope so! Thanks for all the reviews.
References: this one is a funny reference because I thought it was needed - CPD 4x02. Old chapter of mine
Music references: Home - Gabrielle Aplin
Anyways, I should stop the introduction and start for once the chapter, right? So let's go!
5 hours later
"He is alive." Hank recites like a mantra out loud the whole way in the backseat behind the driver, his sunglasses on to inhibit the others to see his teary eyes as the tragic memories of his time while captive with Jay comes to the surface and the guilty he imposed to himself hits him. "He is going to be okay."
The dusk is about to happen when they pass the border of Carbondale. They just did a stop in the middle of the trip to grab junkie food, use the bathroom, and the driver's shift. It's the second time they are driving away; the only difference is that this time they have two inclusions that weren't on the first and the certain that Jay is badly injured but not the d-word, twisted stomach, heart in mouth, chills, tedium, restlessness filling the vehicles while concentrating on the main apprehension and rescue, looking outside to the road watching the threes and other cars being left behind in the limit speed seeing that could accelerate the trip, tense palpable in the air, hope for the rescue and return of their injured missing one was the fuel for the soul ignore the hungry gut.
The borders were closed and inspected by many officers each car and they had to identify themselves to one of them to him allow the entrance, exactly like the way the undercover detective told. As soon as inside the city, the sirens are turned off through the whole thirty minutes to the captor's residence; not wanting to call the attention of scouts from the Bunker organization or any other criminal to not make a commotion about a bunch of police officers in the town with a location in mind as Adam and Burgess got it after did a little research along the way to acknowledge what they might be facing.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay."
"We arrive," Adam says when they stopped the car in front of a big black metal gate, similar to the ones in those horror movies, locked with an enormous lock. "It's locked, we need to break in."
"Bring the pliers!" Erin screams to Antonio who obeys and breaks the chains. The team reunites themselves in a tactical line, being led by Burgess, and invades the territory. They face the stunning gigantic wine mansion with a heavy, highest-quality ipe door and Greco-Roman white columns spread along the front, emerging above a stairway divided to either side of the seemingly 5 meters tiled paths. Speechless and open-mouthed. Comments sarcastic in nature of how much the mansion costs can be uttered but the tension of the whole case, the minutes of anxiety that in any room inside that mansion can be occupied by their friend, how close they are from concluding this case or more likely a nightmare awake for eternity and of how the owner, through illicit, acquired such mockup of a castle doesn't permit the comments. From now, no person can be seen. Or they have evacuated or they are falling into a trap.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay."
They invaded the house, 'Chicago PD' shots echoing in the stunningly goldenly luxurious and elegant interior, a spiral staircase leads to the upper floors of the high-ceilinged mansion, highest quality comfortable furniture in the living room, pictures with people, vases of various sizes and shapes, hunting bounty and weapons. Burgess and Erin scream 'upstairs' and go up the stairs; Antonio, Adam, and Kevin scream 'basement: and go down the stairs; leaving the living room to Alvin and Hank.
The living room is a mess. Have signals of a heavy and trendy party a night ago, exactly as detailed from Steven. Trace elements of heroin, alcohol, and sperm's contagious aroma in the air. Chains in one of the columns and dried pool blood surrounding the same and in other places; they don't need to make the DNA test to conclude who is the owner. The other patrol officers who cleaned the other areas come back shaking their heads negatively. Firstly, the female couple comes back shaking their heads negatively to any people in the house or a lead about Jay and examining the messed up space was enough and unnecessary communications as they have the same deduction. They cover their mouths to not infect the crime scene. Secondly, the male trio joined, examined the room pissed off, and obtained the same resolution.
"The party is real. I was hoping it was fake for my well-being and mental health." Hank murmurs to himself but goes loud enough tearfully and disgusted. "To Jay as well."
"We get in the way of the arrangement. They picked up, escaped, and left the mess for us." Alvin highlights as stoically as he can, feeling his blood boil and cold at the same time as he keeps a watch on his boss.
Adam scratches his throat. The male trio looks one to another, encouraging the other with a glance and discussing silently to go ahead and deliver whatever they have to say but opening their mouths is the match to vomit. Antonio takes ambition and gestures to the squad to follow him upstairs in direction of the basement. The bright-lit and chic environment are replaced by the darkest and poorest darkness of a house's basement, an endless staircase, lit by a dim lamp swinging, led to an equally dark and frightening corridor. Antonio stops in front of the right door in the dead-end corridor.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay."
"I think we found Jay's cellar." He says as he opens the door and gives space to the other to get inside. The cubicle of 20 square meters is empty and dirty as hell except for the chains that are connected to the parallel wall with a dried bloodied stain on the floor just on the ground below and a little table in the center of the room. Over it, a computer. It's left on purpose. Can be nothing, he might be overthinking and his hair shivering will be overreacting. Can be a deadly ambush planned by Nathan for them and his overreacting resulted in his overthinking psyche staying physically unharmed his emotionally and psychologically harmed team. Instantly, Hank lifts his closed hand in the air, prohibiting the entrance.
"Call the Bomb Squad!"
"Do you think it is a bomb, boss?" Kevin says alarmed. The unit freezes in place, fearing touching the bomb device's invisible trigger, and waits for more orders.
"It might be. Or might be not. Nathan wants us out of the scene to have Jay for him forever. I prefer to be precatory in taking specialists' major help instead of killing us and letting his plans come true" He explains not being questioned and overwhelmed by how quickly the case can turn if his suspicion is true. Burgess slowly moves her hand to her radio on her vest and calls the Bomb Squad, making a mental note to advise Kevin to no argument against him just for in specific cases like brutality. In any other case, he won't be heard and it's a waste of time.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay."
It didn't take long before they appeared downstairs. They were already there as a part of the blue cavalry like a tornado in weight to the house since the Windy City - of course, they didn't plan to launch them, just in case of necessity like the current one, but bring them is prevention, and prevention is better than cure. It takes ten minutes for to them put the paraphenalia on and downstairs - sorry, Antonio 'hooked on phonics', I missed the r in there, paraphernalia. Ten minutes to the team slowly and attentively step back. Thirty minutes to them analyze carefully the computer and determine it isn't a bomb. The computer is clean and safe. Relief. After one of the tensest fifty minutes, the team is allowed to return to the cell and investigate the device, which one boss handed the other. And something more.
Photos. A pile of photos. His breath engates in his throat and his eyes water. Various photos of him. Jay is unconscious, naked, tied up, shape laying down on the ground, a genuine, drugged, and a weak smile on his face, blood coloring the inside part of his tights and the leather black collar locked around his neck. He delivers the photos to the team hesitantly. The reaction is the same.
Hank positions the still closed computer on the table and opens it as the team position themselves behind him. He opens the device shivering and finds out that is unblocked. A white play signal appears on the screen. A video. The torture Jay went through while both captived is still fresh on his mind and terrifying his nights. The hospital's video is still vivid on everyone's mind and frightening their nights. Everyone's respiration is on the edge of collapsing. He knees on the floor to inhibit him from falling. Alvin and Erin do the same. He takes a deep breath and presses the play.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay."
"Sergeant Hank Voight, what a pleasure to see you after a week." Nathan expressively and mocking waves. "Did you miss our time together? How are you and your family doing? I wish miserable." He says sincerely. "I learned about George's and Raphael's arrests. What progress! They facilitate because they are two idiots. But I must say I'm impressed." His facial expressions accompanied his monologue. "Congratulations." He claps his hand three times, again mocking and in disdain. 'That's why the unit is called Intelligence? However, you don't have what you want, what you expect, what you need. Jay!" He smiles. That damn diabolical unique disgusting psycho-satisfied smile. "His name and his person are going to haunt you for the rest of your life, right? Let me tell you something: you will never have your detective back. You will never have your son back. You will never have my addict bitch back. He is mine." He licks seductively his lips. "He is such a slave slut. I would love to send my records to the police central department, what a slut they had inside the organization without knowing." Smile. "Are you prepared for two movies? You must be." He says and gets comfortable forward like a parent telling a kid a secret. "This is the last time you will see your vulnerable son and me. Before it plays, let me wave my goodbye forever. Goodbye, Sergeant Hank Voight!" He expressively and mocking waves.
The first video starts with Nathan saying to Raphael and George behind him:
"General opinion. How should I mark him with this beauty? I'm thinking of my initials, NA, but where?" Jay becomes speechless and breathless, the color on his face giving a goodbye forever, and his eyes widening.
"I suggest in the base of his throat or above his groin, at the end of the belly button." Raphael.
"That's what I was thinking."
"Great ideas, boys." Nathan congratulates them. "Above his groin I prefer. Near to my interest point." He says staring at Jay's genitals and the cop shivers, stepping back kneeled as long as he could while Nathan goes in his direction. "There is no point in evading, bitch. Consider it a pleasure to have my initials on your bitch body!"
"Never!"
"Boys! Hold him firmly!" Raphael and George approach. A fight is initiated. George is kneeled in his genitals and kicked his nose. Raphael gave a rear-naked choke, dominating him for once. George was pissed off, blood falling like a waterfall from the nose, looking at the master. "Not now."
"This fucking bitch broke my nose."
"I already have his punishment planned and you can take retaliation. First, we have to mark so do what I have said!" Nathan says impatiently. George whispered something unheard to the camera, and grabbed his feet and together with Raphael still choking his pale half-conscious half-unconscious victim, awkwardly lay him down as straight as possible.
"Release him a little to give breathing and screaming space." Nathan chuckled picking a small blowtorch, turning it on, and directions to the knife blade.
"Please...find...another...way...to...this...a collar maybe?"
"Why are you opining? Your opinion doesn't make a difference." The captor turns off and throws away the blowtorch, shows the vivid red blade, and approaches a millimeter away from the chosen place. "Prepare to scream!"
"NO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Jay screamed his lungs out. The three sadistic men are laughing at his begging and screaming while marking him gradually. After 5 distressing minutes, the blade is removed for once and his legs and neck are released from the holdings. He quickly knees as protective and ominously as he could.
"You look wonderfully. See by yourself." George takes a mirror from the corner and gives it to the master, who puts it in front of Jay at a favorable angle to see the damage. "Except for you, my whore, my initials on your perfect porcelain skin are the second most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"
"I'm going to kill the three of you!" He hoarsely says through clenched teeth.
The second video starts with Jay is walking frantically and quickly in circles for two minutes. Suddenly, he falls against the opposite door's wall and screams his lungs out, and tear stream down his face. Screaming and crying. He did until heavy footsteps and the noise of a door opened.
"Easy, whore, easy, let me have the privilege of making you hoarse from crying out with my cock inside your little ass and mouth." A rich businessman appeared to be Bunker says, carrying a suitcase. Two offenders walk in Jay's direction. Jay starts to crawl backward, back against the wall, to evade the touch until he is ambushed in the corner.
"Get off me, motherfuckers!" He tries to struggle in the grip but is stopped with a slap on his cheek.
"Get him on his knees." The offenders obey the command and do it. "Did you forget what your master said: you obey him, me, our guys and guests, pretty boy." He says as cold-blooded unlocks the locks and opens the briefcase. He unrolls a small chain connected to a wide fluffy leather black handcuff and ties firmly in a crack at the end of the wall, looking at the intrigued curious prisoner of the room motion. "Excited to assume your slut role, boy?" They drag a kneeled reluctant furious hostage to the stretched-out position the older wanted on the floor and, once positioned, he tied his hand to the object. Returning to the briefcase, he takes out a black collar, but doesn't put it on and says. "Man, you are making it unbearably hard. Let's test out the function first."
"No, leave me alone." Jay closes his eyes but opens again when the man undresses and is on top of him. He widens his eyes looking at the member. The man drags his long nails over the bare muscular legs until reaching the hem's underwear and puts it down, throwing further, compressing and pinning his body to the ground by pinning the prisoner's sides between his legs and leaning over him sufficiently to whisper.
"Tomorrow night we are having the party and you are being the fucktoy." he breathes heavily and murmurs sensually coarsely, driving his big black hands over the prisoner's bruised torso. "There will be plenty of people anxious to play but since the master told me about you...after seeing you…You are one hell of a kind, I didn't know the police contracted bitch to work inside." He giggles. "I'm as anxious to bury my cock inside your tight ass. You're all mine to play with."
"Look...I know you think it'll help you...but it won't...let me go and I swear I can reduce your sentence!" Jay pleas embarrassed and left without a choice. The top men's wild laugh is an unquestionable and unnecessary disagreement.
"You're all mine fucktoy to play with now. You are participating in this as well." A suggestive smirk makes Halstead shallow dry as a right-hand slide down his sternum to palm the unclothed and flaccid member. "Get hard for me, whore!" The man starts rubbing it.
"Fuck." Jay, despite his effort to keep silent, moans, flushes at the touch, and whispers a curse, clearly condemning his body for reacting positively at the torturer.
"You are handsome." Still rubbing hard and fast the boy raped's penis, he delivers a line of kisses down on Halstead's chest and adjusts himself at the ass' entrance, "You are being so good to me, getting deliciously hard. Let me use you now." and inserts his pre-ejaculating hard member into him.
"AAAAAAAAAA Fuck!" Jay throws his head back, cries out in pain around the violent tortuous undesired invader. Ignoring it, a wave of fight washes over, his lower limbs desperately swinging in an attempt to contact his attack and he levitates his trembling weak legs and kicks the man's stomach, knocking off breathing. As he foresees, the old lad steps behind and grasps his stomach in suffering.
"Disgusting worthless filthy slut!" His grave voice is hoarse and breathless. Halstead cowered and shallows dry. He advances on the naked youth and kicks his solar plexus. The unconscious world almost salutes Halstead but Bunker doesn't let him pass out, slapping his face three times and just stopping when his baby blue eyes open. "You thought it hurt when your master raped you? I'm not as forgiving as him. You take what I give you. You deserve this!" Halstead squeezes his eyes shut when the man spit saliva on his entrance and reentered him. The boy humming his misery. Once adjusted and using his massive hips to increase the harm, brutally thrusts in and out.
"Why are you doing this?" Rhetorically he begs between the thrusts. The man leans over his chest and whispers hotly in his ear.
"Because that's why you were born for." Nods in disagreement. "You are nice and tight, boy, perfect for this. You just don't want to admit it but you are enjoying this as much as I do." Nods in disagreement. "Tomorrow night…" his talk becomes erratic and breathtaking as he is achieving his orgasm. "...you will finally comprehend...and appreciate...someone will give your mouth something better to do instead of saying shit...fuck this tight delicious ass…" he gives one of the cheeks a slap "...when we fuck you simultaneously from both ends, slut…" Minutes appeared forever but the climax came and his newly complete rapist empty himself.
"Drug…"
"What? What have you said, bitch?"
"Drug me, master, please."
"See? You are such a slave slut. I would love to record and send it to the police central department, what a slut they had inside the organization without knowing." He prepares another syringe with the medications as well as the collar. The boy doesn't resist as he gently pushes his head to the other side to inject the needle and, to his surprise and hardness, a genuine smile appeared on his lips as the drug made its function and relaxed him. His watery ocean eyes and high drugged mind vaguely registered him collocating the collar around the neck and whispering in his ear. "Get used to it, you are using it until the end of time." Too tired to reply, he closes his eyes for good, the man stands up, picks his polaroid, takes a few photos of the naked sleepy abused lad, and goes away.
Hank throws up when the screen goes black. He knows he just contaminated the crime scene to the forensics but he can't contain his stomach over Nathan's and Bunker's sadism above Jay. The vomit moisture with the team's tears on the ground. No one is trying to hold back tears and sobs and their misery. He is right about the bomb threatening. The object computer itself isn't a bomb to stop mechanically their beating hearts but the content inside is a bomb and just blown up, stopping their souls emotionally and psychologically. He ignores the sobs from the team and storms out crying upstairs and outside the house. He knows he is leaving his team behind, he shouldn't turn his back on them anywhere especially in this cursed house, perhaps he is sounding selfish but they get it. That's why no one tried to hold him downstairs. He gets inside his vehicle, starts the machine, and goes away. Crying.
"He is alive. He is going to be okay. Is he?"
He is back.
After staying miserable five hours behind the steering wheel on the street back to the Windy City, he returned to the precinct primarily. He stayed to look outside his window in his office in how the city continued calmly, unaware and protected besides the torment the blue organization is going through, avoiding looking at his missing subordinate's desk at any cost until the team returned as well. But not alone. They were accompanied by Commander Fischer. A shiver traveled up and down his spinal column in anticipation of the scolding that will take for abandoning, without an excruciating urgency or need, the colleagues in a crime scene of an ongoing investigation about a missing cop. However, what happened made him pinch himself to wake up. Without a word, Commander Fischer, on the edge of crying, hugged him. Certainly, he saw the videos. Rather than scolding, he sent them home for the rest of the day. After much resistance and hesitation, they obeyed. That's why he is back.
But he isn't at his apartment.
He is at Jay's apartment.
They always say that any habitation can be considered a house, but sometimes a habitation can be considered a home. Because they say home is where your heart is set in stone, where you go when you're alone, where you go to rest your bones, not just where you lay your head and make your bed. Also, sometimes home isn't a residence, but a person. As long as together, it doesn't matter where we go. They are each other's home. Jay is missing. One of the homes collapsed. Like the feet of a table, in the absence of a foot, everything is wobbly. The base is fragile. They are fragile.
Where in this whole analogy with table and differences between a house and home he can justify his presence in the unoccupied apartment of his missing son, he doesn't know, but like always he doesn't give a fuck. He picked the keys with a bullet, handcuffs, gun, badge, and dog tag keychains on Jay's desk, where he usually leaves every morning before going to the street and he didn't make any aspect different on that Friday morning. He can't take care and look out after the home in person but he can take care and look out after the home in residence. He hopes he wouldn't mind his privacy invasion even though Will took him there before going to work - everyone tried to convince him in taking a break to recover mentally after Jay's abduction but he denied it and said that staying at home without distractions is worse, the work is a welcomed distraction - but the place is still an untouchable part of Jay didn't touch and he swears he will maintain that until he can touch him.
He remembers the partial vision he had of the place when Jay was on medical leave and he paid a visit after Keyes' ordeal. He stayed at the door for five minutes to check on him and return to the case they were working on. Like the keychains on his keys typically from Jay's military life and police life, the apartment is his style. It is cozy, small, refreshing, rustic, clean to the vision, blood family's photos, military photos, a team photo, Erin's photo with him, perfect. She was the biggest photo. His love for his daughter: everything a father could ask for a man who is in love. He is trying to avoid looking around without being guested because the apartment's owner isn't there and is particular - he can't contain himself due to cop instinct - but as he looks, he realizes the lack of pictures with his father.
"You know he doesn't consider you as just his boss...Jay has a hard relationship with our father...You don't always agree but you listened to him and still do. You respected his opinion. You trusted him and his abilities. You care. You had his back after he was cleared of Rodiger's murder. You overprotected him twice. That's why he relaxed in letting you go from captivating. He trusts you enough that you are getting him back. He trusts in the cop you are. He trusts your leadership style. He trusts in the person. He trusts you as a son does with a dad. He had never had it at all from our dad. He told me more than once he loves you and considers you as more than a boss, he considers you a father."
He is feeling like he is invading a property - which technically he is, indeed - but he can't contain himself from finding out the background behind his detective, his son, his savior by his own. He sees some more photos on the television rack. One picture had a Jay from high school next to an older Will and a woman behind them. Their mother surely. She has the same color hair as Will and has the green eyes and freckles from Jay. The brothers were smiling widely in the picture, Will's arm was wrapped around Jay, pulling him into a headlock.
An opened DVD box catches his attention. Will surely opened, saw the content, and forgot to put the CD again in the box. He finds the DVD player but instead of pressing the eject button, he presses the player, and the video starts on the TV. He sits down on the sofa and looks when a young Will appears on the camera recording himself and his younger brother.
"So, Jay, let's record ourselves for us in the future." The youngest nod vehemently and smiles, two holes in the front where the milk incisors fell out and made room for the permanent ones. "When I grow up, I want to be a doctor. I want to save people's lives. I will be a great doctor." He puts his free hand in his waist like a superhero position. "I bet you still don't know, Jay. You are too young to this!" He says scoffing.
"I know what I want to be when I grow old!" He says angrily, crossing his thin arms, twisting his forehead and eyebrows, and making a pout, the face more iconic, funny, and cute than an angry one.
"Really? What is going to be?" He says laughing?
"A cop." Will looks at him amazed. "More specifically a detective. I want to serve and protect my city from bad guys like a hero does in the films. I will be a great detective. I will work in an elite unit, with a demanding but affectionate boss, a lovely and hardworking team, who will solve the cases and put the bad guys behind bars following the laws. We will be a family. I will have their back and they will have mine. I'm going to save the world! I don't need to save the world but if I save a life from cruelty and vulnerability, I will be grateful. People don't deserve to suffer and be injustice, and I will be there to bring peace and justice." He says, smiling broadly and his eyes twinkling. "Detective Jay Halstead. Sounds good, right?"
Hank cries at the end, affected. For the first time since the beginning of the chaos, he sees a cute and emotional video. His heart falls apart seeing the innocent, faithful, honest, smiling, vocation, leader, protector, loyal, brave, purest, bright, strong, ethical, stubborn little boy that dreamt about since a young age for serving the police and the city of Chicago and the godammit detective he is today. All the tragedies the man had faced and overcome with those attributes and he continues standing up stronger. The man is one hell of a kind. His son is one hell of a kind.
"Detective Jay Halstead sounds excellent, Jay."
7 months later
It's been almost seven months. Misses a day to complete the seven monthly birthdays of Jay's kidnapping. A lot has changed since that. The only thing that never changed was the incessant search for the missing detective.
Other Chicago police units and the policies of the cities in Illinois state principally from Carbondale, the last place Nathan, Bunker, associates, and Jay were seen, were included in the investigation to achieve the conclusion as soon as possible in the first month.
In the second month, the connections with the Carbondale's district 18 and Detective Steve Murphy from there were urgently cut off because, since Bunker's house invasion, Mario Walton and associates were suspicious of whom could have betrayed them to the police and the youngest undercover cop was the principal suspect. To cover his integrity physic and cover-up, he cut off communication with everyone and isolated himself completely to advance in the investigation and gain all over again their trust to, with low suspicions, return with more information to his case and, hopefully, Jay's case too.
Erin had a relapse in the third month. She hadn't returned from consuming drugs but her desire to consume and be high to forget the fucking horrible and miserable world she was living without the love of her life was enough for her to ask Voight if she could live with him for a while to put her head straight. She didn't want to return to her bad old habits, to the dark hole she caved after Nadia's death that had Jay be kidnapped and tortured by Keyes for her scared and surprisingly return. She promised Jay she wouldn't return. Jay wouldn't be mad at her, he would help her recover as he did the last time - at least she hopes so - but he would blame himself if she did, in any way he could accept his disappearance would be the cause of her drug addiction. Voight, without thinking twice, agreed with her request and was extremely proud of her for realizing the first symptoms and asking for assistance before it was too late. Jay would be proud too.
In the fourth month, a bomb fell on Intelligence. Commander Fischer, as much sensible his cold figure could order, demanded that the team has to move on and return investigating other crimes. They could investigate Jay concurrent with the crimes because, unfortunately, the criminals in the city didn't stop due to a missing and they were an elite unit; if they denied it, Jay's case was going to be designed for another unit. No one wanted that. They know and aren't underestimating the potential of others but it was Jay, one of them. They accepted the deal.
In the fifth month, Jay's father noticed that Will hadn't told much about the little brother like he always did to bother his patience and his time with the insignificant kid that hasn't shared a word for two years. Not that he cared a damn about the boy though. Will told the truth to him. The man was shocked at the first moment and he swore he saw a tear draw his eyes but it was quickly faded away. Will was amazed and furious about the lack of sentiments of their old man and, for the first time in his life, he shouted at him. The man stayed quiet and just told that Jay knew the consequences of his job. He couldn't look at his father anymore. On the same night, after putting him in bed, he went to his bedroom but heard sobs and sniffs from the bedroom. The door was slightly open and he looked inside. His dad was holding several pictures, including one of his police graduation - where Jay swears his dad never showed up for embarrassing - and the old man crying above it.
"Kathleen, look out for our son. He doesn't deserve any of this. I was an asshole father to him and he will never forgive me, I will never have the chance to fix us. I love him. I'm proud of him. Kathleen, look out for our son."
He had never seen his father in that way in any situation except for when their mother died, he didn't expect him in such a broke way - without a beer on his hand or next - because of Jay, who he never gave the decent and deserved attention and care because certainly, he would die without confessing his true feelings and Jay would die without knowing the father's true feelings. He cried as well.
In the sixth month, Intelligence was a deep dark place. The team members weren't breaking up or splitting up; indeed, they were even more together, supporting each other when the weekly case hit hard or Jay's case, the firefighters, paramedics, doctors, and nurses are always available to comfort them and asking what they could do to help. The only thing that can happen is to bring Jay back; nothing else matters. The darkness is the possibility that Jay might be dead by now. Of course, they are investigating as hard as they can - all the extra hours are exclusively for his search - but, analyzing the criminology and the Anderson brothers' victims ten years ago, the statics aren't favorable to Jay. Jay is a badass, strong, fearless, honest, a fighter but he is a human being. He has limits. His body could have shut down. The Jay they knew could not be the same or could not exist anymore...no, they can't think like that. They aren't looking for Jay's dead body. They are looking for Jay.
Sorry for the high emotions and lack of actual whump in this chapter. Hope you liked this one! See you soon!