This chapter is based on a request. The actual request was for a sick Liam to bond with Jay, but since I had Liam suffer from a pneumonia when he was nine, I changed it to an injury. I felt that I could have expanded on this topic, as there would have been a lot of emotion to carry it for many more pages, but I still have more left to write with other chapters and the time for lengthy turmoil seems to be behind me now. I do hope that I was able to capture enough of the love and devotion between father and son that it strikes a chord. So we go from fourteen-year-old Tory to fourteen-year-old Liam. Next week will be a bit of a fluffy chapter to lighten things up before it gets serious again. As always thank you for reading.
(I had this chapter eighty percent done when the episode aired with the accidental shooting between the two boys, where Kevin was the main character. Unfortunately, in this country this happens all too often.)
Not My Child
It felt like a horse had kicked Liam in the stomach and as he began to succumb to the darkness that was pulling at him, his last thoughts were that if he didn't die, his father was going to kill him for being so careless, and if he did die, his father would be devastated.
Jay was wiping down the counter when the buzzer frantically sounded, signaling someone at the front door of the building, buzz upon buzz upon buzz. Liam must have lost his key and had a pack of wolves chasing him. He let whoever was buzzing inside and went to the apartment door to see what the emergency was but it wasn't Liam who was summoning Jay, it was Davey Reynolds, a nine-year-old that would often trail fourteen-year-old Liam around.
The boy was breathless and his face was blotchy with tears and exertion. "Detective Halstead—Jay," he huffed, "he has a gun, he won't listen—Liam," he coughed out.
"Liam has a gun?" Jay questioned, the alarm in his voice evident.
The boy shook his head back and forth so vehemently that he nearly fell over. "Evan Martin does. He told us he wanted to show us something and we went into that abandoned building two blocks over. He took out a gun and Liam stood in front of me and told Evan to put it away or give it to him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't do it! He started waving it around and pretending to shoot so Liam grabbed me and we started to leave but Evan told us to stop so Liam told me to go and I did and I thought I better tell you." Davey gasped.
Jay made sure he had his phone and keys, closed the door behind him, and ran outside, Davey on his heels. "Where is this building?"
"Two blocks that way," he pointed. "Just down from the doughnut shop." Davey said.
"Stay here and don't move," Jay said as he took off, running in the right direction. He tried to picture where Davey meant and he thought he had a good idea when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. He pulled out his phone and dialed in a shots fired call, along with a request for an ambulance and that a plain-clothes officer was responding. He didn't have his badge at that moment, but he wasn't going back for it.
His feet felt heavy as they hit the pavement, the journey stretching out much too far in front of him. He dodged people on the sidewalk, their faces alarmed with the sound of a shot. Jay suddenly realized that he didn't have his gun either. He had put both gun and badge away when he had gotten home. It had been a typical evening up until that moment. He and Liam had cooked and eaten dinner, going over their day before Liam headed outside to hang out with some friends while Jay cleaned up. Now, he didn't know what he was running towards or what he would find when he got there.
Jay found the right building; it was boarded up after a fire only to be accessed again by either kids in the neighborhood or homeless individuals. He threw open the broken front door, exactly how he was trained not to do, especially being unarmed, it was dark inside, some light from the outside filtered in through the windows where boards had been moved off-center. He stood still for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust and to listen for footsteps or voices. He turned on the flashlight on his phone and began to sweep it around. His son had been here. Someone with a gun had been here. "Liam!" He shouted out. "Is everyone okay? Liam!"
He moved with uncertainty into the next room, which he thought was empty until he directed his beam of light onto the floor and saw the crumpled up form of his son lying there. Suddenly nothing mattered, all his years of training melted away, the fact that the place hadn't been cleared of the shooter or anyone else didn't come into play, all that mattered was that his son was lying, unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Jay scooped him up, not bothering to check for a pulse and ran outside, somehow it would be better outside. He had given basic directions over the phone as to where the incident had taken place as he didn't have the house number. He could hear sirens in the distance as he stood there, his son limp in his arms, arms and head dangling like an untethered puppet. He laid him gently on the sidewalk, pulled his own shirt off as he found the bullet wound, and pressed. "Stay with me buddy, I'm right here with you. Dad's right here." He knew he was still alive because he was actively bleeding, but it was a lot of blood.
Liam felt cold as shock set in. Jay had seen plenty of casualties on the battlefield, even dying children, but not his child, NOT HIS CHILD! He saw the ambulance coming their way and picked Liam back up, his arms, head, legs falling limply again but Jay didn't feel the weight, he felt nothing but his own blood pumping. The paramedics jumped from the ambulance and had a gurney ready before Jay could even recognize what was happening. As they began to assess where and what damage had been done, a police officer approached Jay.
"I'm not a witness, this is my son. Davey!" Jay suddenly shouted, remembering the boy. "Go to 1832 N. Wood, there is a nine-year-old boy there named Davey. He told me what happened. As I was running I heard the gunshot and found my son. Evan Martin—Evan had a gun. Ask Davey," Jay shouted as he climbed into the back of the ambulance.
"Sir, I need your name," the officer replied.
"Detective Jay Halstead, Intelligence Unit. Call them and they can give you my info."
Suddenly the doors shut and it was Jay, the paramedic and his gravely injured son. He felt like he was in a dream. Nothing seemed to be moving in the right time. He couldn't hear what was being said as the blood rushed through his ears, his eyes wouldn't focus and he felt dizzy. The abrupt starts and stops of the ambulance didn't help matters and was afraid he was going to be sick.
Liam already had tubing sticking out of him and mask over his face to help him breathe. He had heard them say something about a wound to the abdomen and he knew that wasn't good. Anything from the neck to the waist was automatic surgery. And of course he needed surgery, he had been shot. Even if it had gone all the way through there were all kinds of body parts in the way, liver and spleen, a kidney somewhere, his coiled up intestines—oh God would Liam survive.
Will—he had to call Will. He figured he was working tonight—he always seemed to be working—but maybe he got off around six, he couldn't remember—he didn't know what time it was now. He pulled out his phone but couldn't remember how to make it work. His hands were shaking as he stared at the dark screen. He should be doing better than this, he should be on auto pilot, doing all the things a responsible parent would be doing—making phone calls, sharing encouragement with his child, but instead he was trying to keep from passing out while he stared uselessly at his phone.
What was wrong with him? In the past he had grabbed kids from busy streets, given Narcan during an OD, pulled them from trunks and gave them CPR even though they had been dead for hours because it was his job, his responsibility to do something. Now he needed to do something for his own son and he couldn't do anything. Not his child, this couldn't be happening to his child. He protected everyone's children and why didn't that count for something. Why did his son have to pay?
After squeezing his eye's tightly and taking a deep breath in an attempt to start over he looked at his phone again. His hands, still wobbly, managed to find Will's contact information and he called praying that his brother would answer. On the third ring he did. He had just left the hospital but turned around and went right back and met the ambulance at the ED doors.
There was a lot shouting, Liam being rushed away as Will took charge of his brother. Jay heard words like low blood pressure, massive blood loss, something-something heart rate, damage to kidney and liver. It took a minute before Jay even realized where he was or that he was covered in his sons' blood and was shirtless.
Will had Jay sit down before he collapsed and a nurse came over with a scrub top for Jay to put on. He could hear Will talking and managed to the get the shirt on, but he had no memory of taking it. Everything was foggy. The lights were too bright but he couldn't focus, why wasn't he in more control? Why was he handling this so poorly? Because this was his son and no parent was supposed to outlive their child. Suddenly he father's words hit home from years before, "because Jay, this war isn't going anywhere and I'll be damned if I bury you! A parent isn't supposed to bury their child!" And Pat hadn't, but would Jay?
The next hours were nothing but a blurry cacophony of chaos. If Will hadn't been there to guide Jay he most likely would have collapsed in a corner, unsure what to do or where to be. He heard Will asking questions for the intake forms, allergies, previous injuries, blood type. "O positive," Jay shouted, not able to moderate his voice and unsure why he knew his son's blood type in the first place.
"I'm pretty sure it's O positive," Jay said more quietly.
"They'll type him. I'm sure they already have."
"I want to know what it is. A father should know."
"Okay. I'll make sure to check," Will said quietly.
"If he is O positive can I donate?"
"We'd have to check your blood type. But chances are if he is O then both you and Emma were O. But you need to keep up your strength. He'll have enough blood Jay. It is the most common type, we've got it covered."
The questions continued, now covering Jay's health insurance plan, with Jay mumbling and Will scribbling.
Jay couldn't believe how many times he had been on the other side of it—giving unbearable news and then walking away, sympathetic but disengaged, going about his business as if the world hadn't just skipped a beat. Jay was struggling with the fact that his entire world had stopped, but nothing else did. People were laughing, making plans, nothing had changed for them, they continued on while Jay still couldn't see straight.
The entire team had come and surrounded him while Liam was in surgery. Evan had been picked up by the police and denied everything, but once they took him to the district, the conversation got serious and his test for gun shot residue was positive, he confessed to finding the gun under his brother's bed. It had been found in another room of the abandoned house where he had tossed it after shooting Liam. He claimed it was a mistake, an accident, and it most likely was. He was just showing it to Liam, Davey and another boy who was also questioned. He didn't know it was loaded and it just went off. How many times had they heard that, "it just went off." As if guns just went around shooting out bullets with no help. He had drilled into Liam over and over again to treat every weapon as loaded and always have the safety on, never point it at anyone and finger is never on the trigger unless you are going to shoot. Why hadn't Evan's parents done that? Why was he the only responsible parent?
Hailey held Jay's hand. Voight paced. Kim went in search for updates while Kevin and Adam sat around and looked properly concerned. Will was trying to get as much information as he could, often crossing paths with Kim. At midnight, Liam came out of surgery and headed to recovery before he went to the ICU. The bullet had damaged his liver, nicked his stomach, a section of bowel had to be resected and one of his kidneys may or may not have been affected. But he would most likely survive. But at the same time there were no guarantees and he most definitely wasn't out of the woods.
"Jay you need to go home," Will said tapping his foot against his brother's sneaker.
Jay blinked awake and looked up as if Will had handed him an octopus on a platter and told him to eat it. "I'm not leaving. What if he wakes up?"
"You've been here since he was brought in two days ago. You need to change your clothes, get some rest and shower—the shower part is important." Will said wrinkling his nose. "Grab a good nights sleep and get something to eat," Will put his finger up as Jay was about to say the same thing he always said, 'what if he wakes up,' "I will be here. I will stay right here with him."
"I need to be here."
"Jay, he is sedated. He won't wake up; the drugs are keeping him asleep."
"Why is he still on the ventilator? He can breathe on his own right?"
"I told you earlier, he can breathe on his own, but the machine is doing it for him so his body doesn't have to. He won't wake up today or tonight. Go home. Come back first thing in the morning."
"I can't go home. I can't go home to an empty apartment. I just can't."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No. You have to stay here with Liam."
"You need a break. It's not healthy for you to stay in this room twenty-four seven. Go. If anything changes I'll call you."
Jay took the train home and once inside the apartment just stood there, uncertain what to do. This was wrong—all wrong. Liam wasn't here. Liam wouldn't be here. A careless stupid kid who thought a gun was cool and that he was cool with a gun, had shot Liam and now his son might die. Jay knew that this happened all the time in this country, he had seen it himself more times than he could count, and it still happened, and would happen again and again. He hadn't found out yet where the brother had gotten the gun and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Did it even matter? You could practically trip over a gun on every street corner in the city—in anywhere, any state, any city, any rural community. Even if Liam recovered, he would be forever tainted. Jay knew what it was like to be shot and as much as he pretended it was no big deal, it was a very big deal. Now he stood in his living room, lost, as if life and the world had become a stranger to him.
He managed a shower and choked down part of a sandwich before he texted Will to check on Liam. He was assured he was still sleeping and that Jay needed to get some himself. He went into his bedroom, avoiding Liam's room and laid down on the bed but after an hour knew, sleep wouldn't come. He called Hailey who answered on the first ring and asked if she could stop by.
The two had dabbled in a romantic relationship but decided that between the job and Liam, they should leave it on the fringes. But it wasn't until Hailey climbed into bed with him and held him close that he finally found peace.
Liam had never felt so tired before. It was as if he had a twenty-pound weight hanging around his neck holding him down. He wanted to open his eyes, but simply didn't have the energy. He had heard his dad and uncle talking earlier, but wasn't sure what they were saying, it was like they were talking under water. He couldn't figure out why they were in his room or by his bed.
He had felt his father holding his hand earlier, a firm grasp with a gentle touch. He remembered the skin feeling rough, his dad's fingers holding onto him as if he was falling away. Then his other hand being there, sandwiching his own hand in the middle. Why was his dad doing that?
He had also had really weird and vivid dreams. He dreamt of his mother, of playing with her. He was young but also his age now as these oddities often happen in dreams. They were playing tag and chasing butterflies, she was telling him to be gentle as he cupped one in his hands. She was saying they were fragile and after a moment to let it fly free. Together they watched the butterfly disappear into the distance. She pulled him in for a hug, but when she let go he felt as if he had been punched and fell down. His mother was gone and there was only blackness around him, until a hand reached down and pulled him up. It was his dad; Jay had stood him up and smiled at him as he held his hand. But there were tears in his eyes too and Liam wanted to ask him why he was so sad, but he couldn't get the words out.
Jay woke up as the morning light began to creep into the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and saw Hailey lying next to him. She began to stir as he sat up and tried to reconcile the last few days.
"Let's get some breakfast before I drop you off at the hospital," she offered.
"I'm not hungry."
"Jay you have to eat. Try something, even a fruit cup."
He didn't reply, but instead got up and got dressed. "I can take the train. Thanks for coming last night though, I got some rest."
"Jay wait for me. No breakfast, but let me at least drop you off. We'll get coffee, you'll need it."
"Fine," he agreed as she finished putting the rest of her clothes on. She watched Jay go through the motions of getting ready, knowing how difficult the last few days had been for him. He loved Liam so much, and didn't know what would happen if Liam didn't make it. The thought was simply incomprehensible.
She recalled back when Liam was sick with pneumonia years ago and how shaken Jay had become. And now a random act of stupidity, wrapped in violence threatened everything. Evan had been remorseful, finally losing the battle of tears, breaking down with an apology, several actually. But it didn't change the fact that Liam was lying in the ICU hoping that his body would recover.
Evan's brother, Justin, had been keeping the gun for a friend; the friend had gotten it from his cousin who was in a local gang. Turns out the gun was responsible for killing someone a week ago. Now the gun would never see the street again and hopefully had taken its last victim.
Hailey had stopped for coffee and pastries, hoping that Jay would at least eat something on the way to the hospital, but after a few bites, he put it back in the bag and returned to staring straight ahead.
She stayed for an hour at the hospital, where Jay had relieved Will, who said nothing had changed and wouldn't until they lightened the sedation. Liam looked so small surrounded by tubes and wires and machines beeping and chugging. Davey's mother had stopped by the district to give her thanks, saying that Liam had protected her son who may have very well been a victim too. This was all so senseless. So avoidable.
Jay flipped through a magazine and got up and stretched. He needed something to drink, but wasn't going to leave Liam alone. He just couldn't risk the boy waking up with nobody in the room with him. He knew that the machines would send up an alarm if anything changed, but he was determined not to leave his son alone. He stepped out into the hallway when he saw a nurse walking towards him with a purpose. There was a woman and boy around Liam's age down the hall.
"Mr. Halstead, there is a Luanne and Evan Martin here that would like to see Liam. I told them I'd have to ask you first."
"No. Absolutely not," Jay replied in a biting tone. There was no way he was ready to see the boy that caused all this, that had hurt his son.
"Maybe you should let him," Voight said coming from nowhere. "I was using the bathroom before I came to see you," he explained as Jay looked at him in surprise. "Perhaps seeing the aftermath of his carelessness might have an impact. He seemed contrite at the district."
"I can't Sarge. I'm too angry and not in the mood for an apology, sorry just isn't going to cut it."
"Look Jay, you are like a son to me, Liam is like my own. You know I'm right when I say Liam would want him in here. To see what his actions caused. I can stay here if you need to step out."
Before Jay could reply, Evan was racing up the hallway. "Mr. I mean Detective Halstead, I'm sorry, so, so sorry. I didn't think—I didn't know—"
"No you didn't. You didn't think and you didn't know, but you know what—you did it anyway. You waved a loaded gun around, with your finger on the trigger and the safety off and—" but Jay had to stop and fight his emotions. "How could you?" He asked his knuckles pushed to his eyes fighting tears.
"Liam was very seriously injured and we still don't know what his prognosis is." Hank jumped in as Luanne arrived.
"I didn't even think my finger was on the trigger." Evan said, his voice cracking.
"He told you to stop didn't he?" Jay asked. "He told you not to point it at him, at anyone, but you wouldn't listen. He knows what guns can do because I've been where he is. I've taught him gun safety, he's seen the unbearable pain that comes from this. And you're right Sarge, now Evan needs to see as well." Jay said opening the door to Liam's room.
"He is so sorry," Luanne chimed in. "He wanted to apologize in person and see Liam."
Evan walked slowly into the room, the dramatic shushing of the vent creating an atmosphere of uncertainty. The boy looked at Liam and all of his attachments. He looked at the monitors, displaying numbers as if it was Wall Street.
"The bullet damaged his liver, nicked his stomach and damaged his intestines. He had to have some removed. We still aren't sure about his one kidney. You see bullets don't often stay in a straight line. He lost a lot of blood before I found him and if Davey hadn't run and told me what was going on, there was a very real chance Liam would have died in that abandoned room all alone."
"I, I was going to call 911 but I saw you go inside. I was down the block, at the corner. I was scared."
"And you don't think Liam was? Don't you think he was scared, all alone and bleeding in a dark room? This is what you did. This is what guns do. You can't take this back. You can't replace what you have taken."
"It felt like it just went off and I didn't even pull the trigger."
"But you did. You did pull the trigger and it was loaded and then this happened," Jay said his hand waving towards Liam.
"I'm so sorry," Luanne said. "I can't imagine what you are going through."
"No you can't and I hope that you never do." Jay said heading for the door. He stopped and turned, Sarge you got him? I need a break."
"I got him," he assured.
Jay made his way to the bathroom where he broke down into tears.
Hank looked down to see Evan touching Liam's hand. When the boy looked up, he saw Voight looking at him. "I washed my hands when we got here. I am sorry. Liam told me to stop, that it wasn't funny. He said I should give the gun to his dad. But I liked the feeling it gave me, but I swear I didn't know it was loaded."
"You liked the feeling it gave you?" Hank asked.
"Yeah, like I was on top of the world. Like I had so much power."
"You did have power and you abused that power. I've known Liam since he was small. It's been just him and his dad for most of his life and Jay is one of the toughest people I've ever known. Two tours in Afghanistan, multiple traumatic cases here in Chicago and he always keeps it together—always. He is amazingly strong, but this—this hit him where it hurts. This is his child, his only child that he loves more than anything in this world and you may have taken it away from him. Do you understand that? Do you understand the cost of your actions? Jay's son, Liam's future could be gone forever."
Now it was Evan's turn to break down. He sobbed as his mother hugged and Hank put a hand on the kid's head.
"It may not seem like it, but I know that Detective Halstead appreciated your apology and giving it person took a lot of courage and I know he respects that. I respect that. Are you fourteen?"
"Fifteen sir," Evan replied.
"You have learned a very powerful lesson early in life and I hope it is one you carry from now on."
"I will."
Voight watched them leave before he settled in the chair Jay had vacated earlier. "I think you changed his mind about guns," he told Liam offhandedly. "Listen kid, I really need you to heal up for your dad,for me and for so many other people. Your Uncle Will for sure," he added as Will came into the room.
"Jay taking a break?"
"Something like that," Hank said and then filled him in. "So how serious are his injuries?"
"Well, luckily he didn't need a colostomy with the bowel resection. But we aren't sure how effective his one kidney might be, it may depend on the scar tissue. His stomach was a fairly easy repair and his liver will regenerate to fill the void for the part taken out. But he lost a lot of blood and we don't know how long his blood pressure was so low. It's a waiting game. We'll start to lighten his sedation tomorrow and hopefully get him off the vent. Then we'll see."
The next day
"I know it was hard," Will said, "but I'm glad you let the shooter see Liam. Huh, it looks like he's breathing over the vent." He continued as he studied the box glowing with informative numbers.
Jay jumped up. "What does that mean?"
"It means he's trying to wake up. Speaking of which, hey there kiddo, it's okay, your dad is right here, you have a tube down your throat to help you breathe, don't fight it. I'm going to take it out and I need you to blow like you have a bunch of candles on a cake okay?"
Jay looked over to see his son's eyes wide open and terrified. Will fiddled with the tube and then looked down at Liam. "One, two, three, blow," Will instructed as he pulled the tube, Jay couldn't believe how long it was.
Liam coughed and Jay panicked. "Is he okay?"
"Completely normal, it just irritated his throat." Will said as Liam came awake.
"Dad," he gasped.
"I'm right here buddy." Jay replied taking Liam's hand.
"He has barely left your side. I had to kick him out a couple of times so he would shower and change his clothes." Will said. "Do you remember what happened?" Liam shook his head no. "No worries, that's pretty normal. Can you answer a few questions for me?" Liam nodded his head gently.
"What's your name?"
"Liam James Halstead."
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"What city do you live in?"
"Chicago—the best city on the planet."
"Very nice." Will said smiling. "Good cognitive function."
"Evan," Liam coughed out.
"Yes, Evan. Do you remember what happened when you were with Evan?"
But Liam shook his head no. "My stomach hurts," Liam said grimacing. "What happened?"
Will looked over at Jay who put the bedrail down and sat on the bed. "You were with Evan in that abandoned building down the street."
"Sorry," Liam said quietly, his voice a whisper from being on the ventilator. "Davey went inside and I went in to get him. Evan was there?" He said as if he began to remember.
"He was and he had a gun."
"He was showing Davey but Davey was scared and I told Evan to put it away but he wouldn't," Liam said, his eyes shining as it came back to him. "I told him to give it to me and he acted like was going to but then pulled it away—that's the last thing I remember.
"Is Davey okay?"
"He is. He told me that you stepped in front of him to protect him and told him to go outside. He ran to our house and told me what was going on. As soon as I heard I went running to you."
"He was waving the gun around—I remember—he was waving it around and I asked him not to—to give it to me and he acted like he was going to and then pulled it away." Liam repeated. "I think it went off when he pulled it back. It was so loud and I was on the floor and my shirt was wet," Liam explained as his eyes began to moisten.
Jay leaned forward for an awkward embrace. "I found you quickly and had called for back-up and ambulance on my way. Uncle Will met us here and they have taken very good care of you."
"And you stayed with me?"
"As much as I could."
"He was with you all but two nights, where I made him go home. The rest of the time day and night he was right here. He wouldn't even leave to eat or get a drink unless somebody sat with you and then he was right back with his food." Will explained.
"Where did I get shot?" Liam asked.
Will explained the surgery and affected areas.
"So I'll be okay?"
"It'll take a bit to heal and there will be tests on your kidneys but overall, you were very lucky."
"I guess," Liam said. "I'm tired."
"I'm sure you are. Why don't you get some rest?" Will said.
"Dad, are you going to stay?"
"Of course I am." Jay replied. "I'll be right here."
Liam smiled weakly and slipped back into sleep confident in his father's word.
A week later
"I'm right here," Jay said reaching for Liam who was getting out of the truck.
"I can do it myself," Liam insisted.
"Alright, but I'm here if you need me."
Liam took a moment to shift his body so that he was turned the right way to exit the truck. He really wanted to do this by himself, but suddenly the ground looked so far away he didn't think he could get his body to cooperate with out a lot of pain. Will had said his body had to heal inside and out and that it would take time, but it had been over a week already and he still felt so sore and weak.
"I need you Dad. I can't do it." Liam said in defeat as he fought tears.
"I got you," Jay said as he eased Liam down to the sidewalk. He let Liam lean on him as he steadied the boy on the walk to the apartment.
"I forgot how many steps we have," Liam said looking up.
"I'll carry you." Jay offered.
"No! Let me try," Liam said trying the first step. But he only made it up two before he sat down.
"Want to rest for a minute?"
"I can't do it," Liam cried, tears streaming down his face. "I can't get out of the truck and I can't even go up the stairs."
"You can't today, but we'll come back out in a couple of days and you can try again. You've been seriously injured and it's going to take some time to get better."
"But you got shot and could still do stuff."
"I was shot up by my shoulder, not my core. And if you recall, it took me a bit to get back into the swing of things."
"I guess." Liam admitted.
Jay bent down and picked his son up and gently set him down at the top of the stairs. Once inside Jay put the few items he had taken to the hospital for Liam away and got him settled on the couch.
"I got some pudding and mashed potatoes and all that soft stuff they said you could eat," Jay said as he came out with a chocolate pudding cup. "I can make some fresh too," he offered handing it to Liam who was busy trying not to cry but losing the battle.
Jay sat down and put his arm around him. "You're home now. Safe." He could feel Liam shudder underneath his embrace.
"What about school? I can't move around the halls or go up the stairs."
"You aren't going back yet. I have your work and you can use the computer for class time—it's all worked out with your teacher."
"But I'll be by myself and I don't want to be by myself."
"You aren't going to be by yourself." Jay said pulling away to look at his son. "I'll be here."
"You're not going back to work?"
"No. I mean, I'll do things from home, but I'll be here. I'm not going back until you are back into school. And Uncle Will can stop by sometimes too."
Liam rubbed his tears away and took the pudding cup and opened it. "Okay," he sighed not too upset with the arrangement.
Later that night Liam tried to get comfortable in bed but found it difficult and once he fell asleep a nightmare woke him up in a sweaty mess. He must have cried out because suddenly his father was standing next to him.
"You okay?"
"I had a dream that I opened our front door and someone came in and shot you and then me." Liam explained trying to sit up.
"That had to be scary."
"It was. Is that what your dreams are like? Is that why you cry out sometimes?"
"Yes, they can be a lot like that."
"Sorry I woke you up."
"First of all, it's fine, and second of all, how many times have I woken you up because I had a nightmare. Do you think you can go back to sleep?"
"I don't know. My heart is kind of racing."
"Why don't you come and lay down in my bed."
Liam didn't want to admit it, but he was hoping his father would offer just that. Jay helped Liam up, guided him to his bed, and got him situated with extra pillows. Thankfully, the remainder of the night was quiet.
Jay could certainly understand the nightmare and imagined that more would come. He didn't doubt that Liam was suffering from PTSD and had already set up an appointment with Dr. Charles. The poor kid was battered and bruised inside and out.
For two weeks, Liam did his school work online and Jay did his best to keep up to speed via the laptop and the phone. Will came by for a couple of days and allowed Jay time in the field, but after two weeks Liam still seemed hesitant to return to the classroom even though he was progressing nicely.
"Honestly Jay, I think he's ready. I spoke with Dr. Charles, who, of course can't divulge specifics says that he does have some trauma to get over and he will for time to come, but it isn't paralyzing. He recommended that Liam go back for half-days the first week." Will said after examining Liam and talking to him one afternoon.
"Yeah, that's what he told me. I spoke with Liam's teachers, and they agreed that would be fine and came up with a schedule so that he could have time in each classroom. They also assured me he'd have extra time in the hallways and unlimited bathroom time. But he told me yesterday that he doesn't feel well enough to go."
"Physically, he's still healing, but he should be able to at least give it a try. Do you want to know my theory?"
"Sure," Jay said distractedly.
"I think he's really enjoyed his time home with you and doesn't want it to end."
Jay thought back to the previous two weeks and realized how comfortable they both had become with the routine. They had worked side-by-side at the table. Had breakfast, lunch and dinner together. Gone for slow walks around the neighborhood, watched TV, played board games, and just been together. Now, Jay was helping with his physical therapy, taking him to appointments and helping at home. There was no sense of urgency, no rushing from one place to the next; they had come to find a pleasant intimacy, despite the reason why.
He could understand his son's reluctance to jump back into the fray, but unfortunately life would have to get back to normal. He couldn't keep working from home and neither could Liam. Jay would try and see about having more reasonable hours, but Monday, Liam would have to return to school.
"I don't want to go back to school. I'm not ready," Liam complained that Sunday afternoon as they were finished up a game of checkers.
"You're ready and it's time."
"I was shot and it's only been a couple of weeks. I almost died," Liam said dramatically.
"I understand that and I get it. I really do."
"No you don't," Liam accused. "You couldn't wait to get back to work and away from me." He said as he pushed the checker board off the table sending pieces flying.
"Hey!" Jay snapped. "Now you know that is not true. I had to get back to work, because it's my job and we need a pay check."
"But you are working now." Liam pointed out. "And I'm getting my work done too."
"I am, but I'm not in the field or in the office and that's putting pressure on the others to do more. I have to do my part and you need to be back in the classroom, back into a routine.
"It's all set up. You will go from 8:00 until 12:00 then at noon I will pick you up and bring you home and Ellie is going to come over and hang out with you until I get home."
"I don't need a babysitter Dad," Liam objected.
"If that's the case, then you can go back to school."
Liam was quiet for a minute before it became clear that he was fighting tears. "But I liked being home with you. Didn't you like being with me?"
"Every day son. Every day I enjoyed our time together. But a big part of healing is moving forward and you are ready of the next step. I've already spoken with Sarge and will try and be home before 6:00. We'll still go for walks and do your physical therapy together."
"But it won't be the same, because you will be thinking about work and will be tired. It's been like how I've always wanted it to be and it's just not enough for you."
"Like I said, I loved our time together. But this wouldn't be enough for you for long. As you feel better you'll miss your friends, your routine, the world beyond these walls and you know you will. You are more than this injury and you will need to move on from it. And in order to do so you will have to get back into the world.
"It's okay to miss what we had over the past few weeks, and okay to move forward."
"But it's backwards," Liam pointed out.
"What is backwards?"
"When I was asleep you were with me almost all the time, but now that I'm awake you are going to leave."
"Yeah that does seem backwards doesn't it."
"You thought I might die didn't you?"
"You were very vulnerable, and we weren't sure what might happen at first. I didn't feel comfortable leaving you."
"Evan came by a couple of days ago when you were at work and Uncle Will was with me."
"He did?" Jay asked having no idea this had happened.
"I asked Uncle Will not say anything. Evan told me he was sorry. He said he had a court date or something. He said he was sorry and was stupid. He gave me a couple of books and journal. He said I could write how much I hated him inside of it."
"Do you hate him?"
Liam took a big breath. "I don't think so. I know he didn't mean to do it. He can be an ass, but he isn't malicious. He was trying not to cry when he was here. Uncle Will said he came to the hospital when I was unconscious."
"He did. Apologized. His mother apologized. He seemed genuine to me."
"He said you were mad."
"I was. I still am. But not just at him. I get it was an accident, but it was so preventable."
"Just like a lot of other things. I guess he gave us two weeks together and that's something," Liam offered. "But now it's back to work.
Jay sighed, "you know that just because I have to go back to work doesn't mean I don't love you. When I was shot, all I could think about was leaving you which was hard enough, but when you were shot, all I could think about was you leaving me and that was much worse."
"But losing you would have been terrible for me." Liam pointed out.
"Yes, it would have. But you are the child, you have the bigger future in front of you. To lose a child—well I don't think there is a big enough definition to express that pain."
"I didn't leave you though. I'm still here."
"Thank God," Jay said. "And I know it's been a good two weeks for us, and I have really enjoyed being together, but I think you know as well as I do that it's time to step towards normalcy."
"Can I see you scars from where you've been shot?" Liam seemingly having ignored his father.
Jay looked at his son quizzically but agreed pulling his shirt up. Liam looked at the smaller scar on Jay's side that had gone through, then at the one on his upper torso that did much more damage. It was discolored and rough as Liam gently traced it.
"Do you think mine will look like that?" He asked pulling his own shirt up and looking down at his bandage.
"Don't know yet. I guess we'll have to wait and see once it heals."
"I'm like you now."
"You are. I wish you weren't but you are."
"Is Evan in trouble?"
"He is facing some charges, minor ones considering what happened. I imagine he'll do community service and possibly be on probation."
"Okay." Liam whispered.
"How does that make you feel?"
"I don't know. I mean, like I said, I know he didn't do it on purpose, but I kept telling him to stop and he wouldn't. Why wouldn't he just listen to me?"
"Because there is something about the power that a gun holds that attracts people, mostly men and boys. It is forbidden and that makes it thrilling.
"If it's so forbidden then why are there guns everywhere?"
"I don't have a good answer for you. I wish I did, but I don't."
"What if I go to school and there's a mass shooting?"
"Do you think that might happen?"
Liam sat for a moment. "I mean it can happen anywhere. But I guess I don't feel unsafe at school, no more than before anyway. I've been shot once, what are the odds I'll be shot again."
"Just be careful and wary of your surroundings everywhere you are."
"I am. But I wish I didn't have to."
"Me too and I'm sorry that you have to be. Are you sleeping okay? You've been quiet the last several nights."
"I'm doing better. But I think it's because I home with you."
"And I'll still be home with you every night."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise. Those days in the hospital when we weren't sure when you were going to wake up were the longest of my life. I'm sorry it took a tragedy to get us to slow down and be together."
"Can you take a vacation this year?"
"I can. I will. I'm sorry that my job takes up a lot my time, but you know why it does and why it's important to me."
"I do. You want to stop this stuff from happening to other people and I think I finally can understand that."
"I'm glad that you can, I'm just sorry you had to find out this way."
"Me too. But I guess I can try and go back to school tomorrow. I've been getting a lot of texts and stuff asking how I am, so I have a feeling I'm going to be the center of attention for a day or two."
"I bet you will. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, maybe I can even get a date or two out of it," Liam said with his first genuine smile in several weeks.
"Just maybe you can," Jay agreed with a wink.
"Dad?" Liam said as Jay looked over at him. "Will all the shooting every stop?"
"I don't know son. I don't think it will any time soon."
"So we have to duck everywhere we go. Be on alert, just living our lives."
"I'm afraid that we do."
"I don't want to surrender to them—the cowards who think with a gun and believe that will change anything for the better. I don't want them to win with their bullets and hatred. I don't want to be a part of their war and I don't want them to be a part of my life and they have no right to take any lives.
"Do they think they are the good guys?"
"I honestly don't know what they think."
"It's because they don't. They don't think, they only hate and that can't see beyond it. It's like a fog that surrounds them and they feel they can only shoot their way out of it. They dig their own grave and invite as many people into as they can."
"I think you just may be right. And I'm sorry that you are growing up in a world like this."
"But it doesn't have to be this way—that's the hardest part. It doesn't have to be like this but it is, we're second choice behind the money and power of guns. That's almost worse than the violence itself."
"When did you get so smart?" Jay asked.
"Right about the time I realized tomorrow isn't promised."