Pre-cannon takes place after Jay got back from the war.
XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX
He was covered in bruises from yet another bar fight. Carson, the Senior Patrol officer that she had, for the most part, stalking her 'adopted' nephew, called her in the middle of the night, informing her of Jay's latest shenanigans.
It wouldn't be long before the wrong cop picked Jay up and she would be powerless to do anything.
Barging into Jay's dingy apartment, she found him laying in his own vomit drunk off his ass.
She peeled the shirt off his floppy body and cleaned him up while trying not to see the pink scars that littered his torso. Someday they would fade to where they were barely visible but right now they were neon lights to what the kid went through over there - a testament to his physical pain, the puke she was cleaning off his chest a testament to the emotional.
When she was done, she sat him on his couch with a cup of coffee and stared at him until he squirmed.
Being in alone in a room with Sergeant Trudy Platt sobered one up pretty quick, and as she stared at him, anxiety started to roll through his body. She could see through any mask and right now he was standing on the blade of shame and sorrow.
He was absolutely lost and hated that he couldn't hide it from her, the one person left on this earth that loved him. He didn't want to disappoint her.
After his mom died, Trudy had been there for him during the bullshit that went down with his dad and Will. She wrote him and sent care packages, aptly named, more frequently during his second tour. Trudy meant the world to him and he felt like he was letting her down.
"Uh uh. No…don't let your head go there. I am not disappointed in you in the least. I'm worried."
Staring at her with blurry eyes, he sucked in a breath and pulled his lips into his front teeth. Once again, she read his mind, leaving him with no choice but to listen.
"I don't know what you went through over there and I am not going to ask you. But if you ever want to talk, I will be there with my ears open and my mouth shut. You remember that Kid, ears open mouth shut…no judgment."
The sting of tears pricked his eyes, but willed them away.
"I am worried about you and I am proud of you."
Inching back on the couch at her words, he scrunched up his face like he was smelling something foul.
She cocked her eye brow at him and again he let his self deprecating thoughts go for the time being.
Trudy didn't visit often but her timing was always impeccable.
He took a breath but stayed silent.
She stared at the kid she loved, that she saw as a nephew…the kid she vowed to look out for after her best friend died. She was determined to drop a ladder into the pit the war had thrown him into.
"What do you want to do with your life, kid?"
The question caught him off guard, scared him, and almost chased away the soberness that a moment with Trudy brought.
"Uhm…"
He couldn't think of anything he wanted to do or be, because he still had two feet in Afghanistan and a pinky finger in Chicago.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. She would spell it out for him…he couldn't see it buried in his agony.
The saying, 'You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink.' was bullshit in this situation. She would lead Jay by the ear and he damn well would be drinking the water if she had anything to say about it…and she did…she had a lot to say about it.
There were a lot of tools in her arsenal, guilt, threats, and love the most potent. She wanted to get it done with love, he would need tough love…but she would stoop as low guilt if that was what he needed.
He barely came home alive and when his physical injuries healed, the emotional reared their uglier head and she'd be damned if she let the war kill him now that he was home.
"Jay, why did you go into the army."
Surprised and irritated by the question, he looked away from her. The pain that drove his decision bubbled to the surface. He didn't want to say it out loud…shouldn't have to, she already knew the answer.
But Trudy wouldn't let him get away with being silent.
When he finally caved to her glare, he choked out, "9/11."
He was a naive kid when he made the decision, but never wavered on it. He signed up the day he graduated.
She knew the answers to all the questions she would throw at him, but asked them anyway. They were a stepping stone to his truth, "Vengeance?"
Huffing out a breath, he resigned himself to the interrogation, "Maybe some…at first."
"What else?"
"Come on Trudy, you know…"
"I know I know but I think you've forgotten."
"Justice."
"Right…What else?"
He rolled his eyes and the hangover that shouldn't be starting for another four hours or so was coming on strong. Rubbing his forehead, he wanted to ask Trudy where she was going with this, but it was a stupid question that she would make sure to point out.
"What did you tell me…come on kid…you already know the answers to this quiz…you wrote it."
"Christ." he rubbed his face in frustration, "I said I wanted to make sure it didn't happen again."
"And…"
"Jesus Christ Trudy. Can you just tell me what you want with out the guessing game?"
"No."
"I said I wanted to help people, protect them."
"Okay."
Getting the answer she wanted, finally, her tough love softened at the edges.
"You've always been that way. Even before 9/11. So what can you do now because drinking yourself to death isn't helping anyone or protecting anyone."
He sighed, put his head down and rode out the chill Trudy just sent up his spine.
Swiping his hand over watery eyes, he lifted his head, leaned back against the couch and clasped his trembling hands on the top of his head. After a minute stare down, he gave his adopted aunt a smirk conceding the win.
"Thanks Trudy."
"You got it kid."
Mission accomplished, she didn't linger. He walked her to the door and gave her a hug hoping he wouldn't let her down.
"You could never let me down Jay, never."
They pulled back and she gave him a rare smile when she saw the corners of his mouth lift.
Turning at the door, Trudy faded and hard assed Sergeant Platt took over, "You're in the next class, starts Monday. Six months and you'll be under my command."
He hid relief and gratitude behind a scoff and snark, "Great. Something to look forward to."
Leaning closer to him, she wore the special scowl she reserved only for her rookies and gave him his first order, "Dinner at my house six o'clock Chuckles…do not be late."
XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX
I wrote this a couple of years ago and it just needed some cleaning up so I thought I would post it because it would be easier than the next chapters of my other stories. My back still has Barbara in a headlock…harrumph!
Stay safe peeps!