Finally - the last chapter!
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It was 3:00 am and he'd been watching Jay sleep for two hours, willing him to wake up while at the same time dreading it. He wanted to apologize for being an asshole and for not recognizing that he was having a hard time…
…he would get to that eventually.
Right now he just wanted to tell the kid he wasn't fired. That he'd never thought about it for a second. That as soon as Hailey had filled him in and really, even before that, he didn't doubt the truth of what happened.
Every scrape, cut and bruise on Jay's face, the broken wrist elevated on a pillow at his hip, the arm he could see splotched with contusions, every goddamn mark increased his guilt. To him, every mark represented the emotional pain Jay was going through along with the physical pain.
It was obvious looking back the kid wasn't sleeping and had lost weight, but they had all been blind to it…dismissive in his case…or accusatory. He yelled at the kid for being hungover which was totally out of character for Jay, so whether he would have been right or wrong on that, Jay's state of being was a red flag. Something was going on but he was too busy being a prick to the kid to notice.
When Jay finally woke up his face immediately scrunched in pain and a soft groan escaped his lips, but when he saw his boss it was abruptly cut off and a mask slipped onto his face. It was weak at best and everything came through it, all of the physical and emotional pain, but he pretended not to see it. Acknowledging it would just shut him down.
"Hey Kid."
Jay swallowed hard, and looked to the table for water, but it was on the side of his broken hand. Noticing the kid's dilemma, Voight got up and held the cup and straw so he could take a sip.
"Sarge."
"Listen Jay…"
His voice was still raspy from disuse and slightly slurred from the pain meds but he pushed forward with what needed to be said anyway…he would rather say it than hear it from Hank.
"I left them in my drawer…my badge and gun so…"
This time Voight interrupted him with a sigh and shake of his head, "You're not fired Jay and I never considered it for a second."
Surprised by Voight's statement, whatever he was going to say next died on his tongue and instead he croaked out, "What?"
"Jay, I never thought for a second about firing you. Hailey explained what happened. Hell, I figured out what happened before she even explained it. I know about the nightmare's and the night terrors kid. The other scenario isn't in your nature. Your badge and gun will stay locked in your desk until you are cleared for the field.
He could only swallow and then tentatively nodded his head. He waited another moment for his boss to take it back but he didn't.
"Okay…thanks Sarge."
"No thanks necessary."
He debated apologizing to the kid. Jay was tired and drugged up but decided to go ahead in hope that some of it would stick.
"Not sure why, except I was getting it from the Ivory Tower but I'm sorry I rode you so hard. Ivory Tower or not, it was no excuse for how I treated you. I should have seen something was going on.
"Hell, I know some years you have a hard time with the fireworks but instead I was a prick and jumped to a conclusion that was out of character for you and I'm sorry for that. For all of it."
The kid nodded a tired affirmation that the apology was heard, or maybe he just nodded off to sleep. Either way they would talk again. Voight just hoped, at the very least, the kid remembered that his job was waiting for him and would rest easy without that fear hanging over his head.
X
Hailey took Voight's place an hour later, and like her boss wanting to drive home that Jay wasn't fired and there was never a thought of it, Hailey wanted to drive home they were okay…would always be okay.
Knowing Jay didn't think she had anything to be sorry for, she didn't want to push the issue while he was still so raw and in so much physical pain.
So, she didn't apologize or at least not in so many words. She didn't want to overwhelm him and knew they would eventually do their thing and talk it through. Instead, she told him the simple truth of the matter, 'We're okay' then held his hand until he fell asleep. Hopefully her affirmation set his mind at ease or at least started to set it at ease.
She was still holding his hand when he woke an hour later and as his pain filled eyes caught hers, she smiled, squeezed his hand and brushed her thumb across the back of it until he fell asleep again.
Her silent assurance played out again and again throughout the morning. She thought somewhere in there he got it, got that she wasn't going anywhere, because he finally fell into a peaceful sleep and slept for six hours without stirring once.
XXXXXXX
It had been a revolving door of apologies since he woke up three days ago. There wasn't really anything he could do about it being drugged up and stuck in a hospital bed. He wondered if they did it on purpose. He was lucid enough to hear them but not to run.
He appreciated the apologies but didn't think they were necessary. Even if they would have seen he was 'going through' something he would have shut down any inquiries, and in regard to Hailey, he might have thought the same thing if he had been in the bullpen when she came up the steps with a black eye and a split lip.
Adam was the last of intelligence to cycle through. It was silent for a few moments, minutes maybe, but he stayed quiet and let Adam gather his thoughts.
He thought back to that afternoon when they'd excluded Jay from a night out at Molly's. The look on his face. Jay was hurting and for that one moment he saw it. He saw the pain Jay was in and ignored it. Actually, awful fucking truth be told, he didn't ignore it. He was glad what he said hit home and hurt Jay. At the time he thought his friend deserved it for being such an ass.
What happened to Hailey came after that and maybe if he would have let Jay come to Molly's they wouldn't be here right now. Goddamn if he wasn't a lousy fucking friend.
He took a big breath and puked out his contrition in the exhale of it, "I'm sorry Jay. I'm a lousy fucking friend. I treated you like shit and wish I would have opened my goddamn eyes. Hailey was an accident. I know that now and I should have fucking known it then.
"You had a lot of shit going on, were exhausted. We didn't see it, we should have seen it. We shouldn't, I shouldn't have chalked it up to Voight giving you shit. He gives you shit a lot and I think you take it for all of us, and you always give it right back to him or at the very least brush it off with a smirk and an eye roll to us. You being quiet should have been a red flag."
Closing his eyes to the sting in them, Adam took in another breath then looked at the friend he had not only let down, but kicked while he was there, "I wish I could take it back, everything back. I'm so sorry…and… and I know this sounds like bullshit, I know it does, but I'm serious man, if you ever need to talk I'm here, ya? Day or night…Or not talk but just grab a beer and watch a game…whatever you need"
He had zoned out, then fallen asleep at the end of his conversation with Adam. The apologies were becoming a little much and he just wanted to go home and be by himself.
X
Jay felt like a captive audience…or maybe that was because it was Platt. He'd felt a little addled by the latest dose of drugs flowing through his system but became stone cold sober when Platt walked into his room. He painfully shuffled to a more upright position not taking his eyes off of the sergeant.
Expecting to still see the disappointment that had been set in stone on her face the last time he saw the desk sergeant, he missed the fact that there was nothing close to disappointment on her face.
"Sarge."
The way he said 'Sarge' broke her heart. He sounded so resigned, so demoralized, and the cuts and bruises on his face made it all the worse. The kid looked so vulnerable she could feel it in her heartbeat.
It took everything in her not to react to his tone lest he misread the anger at herself in her facial expression. Given the last time they saw each other, he would more than likely read disdain or something just as terrible and she didn't want to screw up again.
Pulling up a seat close to the bed, she softened her tone and let the remorse and worry come to the forefront, "Hey Chuckles. How ya feeling?"
Laid up in bed, somewhat miserable and not having the excuse of paperwork to get to, or back steps to sneak down, left him in the crosshairs of Platt's kindness and remorse. It was unnerving.
The resignation slipped from his face and confusion landed with a thud. It made her feel worse, that Halstead would be confused by her kindness.
He knew it wasn't her intention, any of their intentions, but the apologies drove home what he had put them all through by being an idiot and not asking for help, and to be honest, it kind of sucked.
Cringing internally, he watched her struggle for the words to apologize, so he put both of them out of their misery.
"It's okay Sarge. I hear ya."
The relief on her face was borderline comical before it twisted into a semblance of her hard assed persona "Good…"
But she couldn't hold it. Looking him in the eye, she drove home the apology and the promise, "Won't happen again kid. You have my word."
He twitched his split lips in a sleepy smile and as much as he tried to stay awake, fell asleep while Platt was still talking.
She would tuck away the fact the kid fell asleep on her for later, when they were back to the norm of their weird relationship and giving each other friendly shit…She knew now that Jay had been going through something and recognized she had also pulled a Hank Voight on the kid and took out her issues with The Ivory Tower on him.
Not sure why, her and Hank had had a conversation about it, why they had both used Jay as a verbal punching bag. They didn't have an excuse for it. What they did was terrible and both wondered if they'd done it before, did they do it to him all the time but this time given everything else he had going on, he couldn't get it to roll off his shoulders, instead it sat there, heaped on with everything else.
They couldn't come up with an answer to their question, other than they were both assholes, but knew they would make every effort to make sure it never happened again and give Jay the respect he deserved and had earned eons ago.
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Ethan released him on the 25th at Jay's borderline desperate request. Between University and Med, he'd been in the hospital a total of five days. He probably should have stayed longer even though his more serious injuries; a significant concussion, bruised kidney's and a slow bleed in his liver, were resolving without complications, but Will could tell he felt trapped. That sickening vulnerability Jay felt whenever he was in the hospital, on top of the never ending declarations of contrition, were becoming a little much for his brother and it was written all over his bruised and battered face.
Jay was slumped against the door for the entire ride home and even though Ethan dosed him up pretty good for the trip, groans or hisses occasionally escaped when a pothole or rough section of the road woke him up.
His stubborn little brother looked like shit. The contusions on his face and body had barely started to fade. He was stiff and achy and his broken and bruised ribs weren't any less painful, nor was his lower back over his kidneys. The bruises there were still practically black.
Jay woke as soon as the engine cut, blinked owlishly at his brother then nodded and got out of the car. Will scrambled around to the side to help him and Jay allowed it, which in and of itself, was a testament to how shitty he felt.
Waiting for the elevator almost did Jay in and Will ended up draping Jay's good arm around his shoulder and taking most of his weight, the full affects of the drugs still in play.
After getting Jay settled in bed following the long trek from the car, Will stood in the doorway taking in his beat to shit little brother. He was out cold, which was just what he needed to heal. When staring at his brother became too painful with the rush of the last five days, hell the month, swirling in his head, he set a timer for Jay's next dose of pain killers and laid down on the couch for a nap.
X
Jay woke up later, angry and in pain…but more than that, ashamed…
There was one more day he needed to get through, July 29th. It was still four days away but he just woke up boiling in the shame of it. No surprise though, that shame always arrived early and it always stayed late.
It was also the one day of the shit month his heart revisited the most throughout the year. It was the one day that would drive him to his mom's grave to deliver a tear filled apology for what he'd done, hoping he would feel her forgiveness once again.
Without fail he would eventually feel it, but it always came on the heels of remembering who she was as a person and as a mom. It took him years to get to that point, years to get his shit together enough to realize that, of course she would forgive him.
She would forgive him and he was a bad son for ever doubting it, but he would never be able to forgive himself for what he'd done. In his mind the idea, the thought of it, was just as bad as if he had carried out the deed.
The thought…no plan, he had back then of going back to the desert to be purposely killed in action was something unforgivable. Yes, he was alone, so fucking alone and in pain when he had the thought but that was no excuse.
He fucking hated July and just wanted it to be over so he could sleep without the hiss of memories keeping him awake half the night and the reek of them suffocating him in the day.
X
Every night he'd picked his drunk ass dad up from the bar and like clockwork, his dad would go to town on him for everything; his mom getting sick, his mom dying, Will not coming home to see their mom, Will going away after the funeral. It was all laid on him.
It was overwhelming, the blame, and he was alone to marinate in it. He was alone in everything and the pain of it all was too great. He needed Will desperately.
He needed Will to help him with their dad, to talk to about their mom, talk to about anything, but Will was in New York and that left him alone with their dad to figure out life without their mom and it was ugly. It was just fucking ugly.
X
Except for the night of the funeral when he peeled his dad off the living room floor, he'd picked him up from the bar every night. He'd wait for the call from the bartender then walk the three blocks and drag him off a bar stool with a 'thanks Clifton, I've got him.'
He was kind and compassionate every time, his dad was an ass but he was in pain. His mom was the love of his life and she was gone. So he buried his own pain for that reason. But also, on the selfish side, he hoped the kindness, the comfort, might be reciprocated.
Trying to share good memories of her only to have his dad rage and forbid him from talking about the one person he was desperate to talk about, crushed him.
After that he didn't talk about his mom or Will. He just tried to make sure his dad was comfortable and kept his thoughts to himself.
He made him food he didn't eat, cleaned the house, mowed the lawn, anything he could think of to help his grieving dad. He silently watched TV with him so his dad wouldn't feel alone even though he knew he would be ignored. He just wanted to help and maybe in doing so, he would be helped in return.
X
The day in question, the 29th, his dad was more cruel than usual.
He had picked his dad up from the bar and stumbled home with him, bearing most of his weight while he mumbled angrily the entire way. He thought Pat was bitching about getting kicked out of the bar but the night air cleared the old man's head a bit and by the time he got him home, he realized his dad was telling him exactly what he thought of him. Nothing new, but this time his dad spewed those thoughts as if they came out of his mom's mouth.
'You know we used to talk about you. How embarrassed she was that you chose to be a killer, sanctioned murder in the name of the country…even stopped going to church, couldn't handle the judgment thrown her way.
'You were always difficult, didn't listen, didn't toe the line. She wished you could have been more like Will…he wasn't a headache.'
'She wanted Will to come home, was disappointed it was you. You wouldn't be able to do anything to save her, make her comfortable.'
Their nightly routine usually consisted of getting his dad to the bedroom, sit him on the bed, get him undressed and give him some water. Then Jay would tuck him in like a child, watch him sleep for a bit, and say 'I love you Dad' in his head.
He wasn't sure he believed what his mind whispered, so he no longer gave volume to it after his dad came back at him the night of the funeral with a slurred, "well I don't love you.'
This night though, the cruelty had tipped him over the edge and instead of sitting his dad on the bed he dropped him and left him sprawled on the floor like the drunk that he was.
He went to his room and paced loops upon loops around the small oval rug there, bawling his eyes out over his dad's unkind words to him until what he had done to his dad broke though his sadness and hit him in the gut.
Running down the stairs, afraid he might have hurt or killed his dad, he slammed into his bedroom to find him right where he dropped him, sleeping like a baby but snoring like a drunk.
He bit his cheek and tried to stem the tears but they still rolled. Picking up his dad, he sat him on the bed and undressed him. His apology was more than likely unheard as he finally tucked in his unconscious dad but he still stood there another moment to see if he would be forgiven but only snores left his dad's lips.
Tucking his dad in a bit tighter, he told him he loved him with a hint of volume. Because true or not in the moment, at one point he had loved his dad. He repeated the sentiment a little louder, kissed his forehead and not bothering to wipe his tears off his dad's face, went to his room.
X
He stared at his ceiling all night, swimming in remorse for how he had treated a grief stricken man.
Tears unrelenting, he thought about his mom and whispered to her in the dark sharing his fears and regret. He quietly choked out his sadness about his dad and brother and tossed around the thought of losing something he wasn't sure he ever had. The crushing loneliness of the notion had him sobbing into his pillow.
At some point he had fallen asleep taking his loneliness with him to fester in his dreams. He woke sometime later with an ache in his heart and an idea born of anger and despair.
He would go back to the sandbox and get himself KIA. The idea was a fuck you to his dad and brother. He would stay in his perch too long, draw fire while his unit bugged out and get himself shot or blown up by a RPG. Maybe they would be sad, or better yet feel guilty because of how they treated him and because of their coldheartedness he didn't have his head on straight when he went back to the bombs and guns of war. He'd be dead and fuck them.
But then he thought of his mom, and though she was in heaven, he knew she would be disappointed in him if he committed suicide, even if it was by someone else's, a terrorist's, hand.
In his mind she was already disappointed in him for even having that thought and the shame of it shattered him.
He didn't sleep for the rest of that night and most of the nights to come. He spent his remaining time at home taking care of his dad, saying 'I love you' out loud and trying to mean it no matter what he got back in the hope of make his mom proud again.
X
Later
Jay groaned as those agonizing memories of 15 years ago ago assailed him. How he had tried so hard to make his mom proud and had failed miserably with that one shameful thought. He sucked in a breath and released another groan as the movement tweaked his ribs.
He probably needed his pain meds, but the sadness and shame of the day to come trumped any physical pain.
Will had been watching Netflix when the alarm for Jay's next dose of meds went off. Medication in hand, he was prepared to wake his brother but found him staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, you're awake. How ya feeling."
He quickly wiped the tears that were getting ready to spill as if he was wiping the sleep out of his eyes, "Hey Will."
"Jay?"
Moving to the side of the bed, he looked down at his brother, then sat beside him. He had seen the tears Jay tried to hide and they had nothing to do with physical pain.
"What's up?"
For a nanosecond Jay debated telling him but knew it would just end up hurting his brother, so he kept it to himself. Maybe someday he would tell Hailey, but he would never tell Will. There was no point and would just put more guilt on his brother's shoulders.
Back then Will had been dealing with his own shit in the only way he could at the time and even though they talked and he made sure Will knew he forgave him, that they were good, guilt over what went down would always live in his big brothers heart.
He knew how that felt in spades. He wouldn't add more to his brother's burden.
"Nothing…just tired…bit miserable…"
Will frowned at his little brother, "No doubt."
The 'just miserable' sets off the alarm bells. Jay would never admit to feeling anything but 'fine.'
Jay could feel the fucking tears again and closed his eyes to trap them but the back of his lids held a picture of his mom with disappointment written all over her face.
Sucking in a breath, he clenched his jaw and wiped the tears with his good hand.
Will hated how well he could read Jay sometimes…usually when there was too much emotional stuff to fit behind that damn stoic mask he donned so easily…like now. He could see the sadness on his brothers face, the profound guilt…it broke his heart to witness Jay's shattering.
More tears leaked and Jay tried to choke out a watery 'I'm fine,' but it drown in his throat.
Will didn't realize the guilt Jay was feeling wasn't just about Hailey. There was no way he could know. He only had the recent events to go on and knew what happened with Hailey was still killing his little brother.
He scooted closer to Jay, "I know you feel like shit, bud. Physically ya, but I know all the emotional stuff is eating away at you. I know you're sad, a lot of shit's gone down this month…and Hailey…that…"
His face twisted and any remnants of his stoic mask crumbled to dust.
"Jay…" he put his hand on his brother's shoulder and waited until he looked at him, "…it was an accident, what happened with Hailey. No one blames you…Hailey explained what happened. She doesn't blame you. So maybe…Jay, please try to forgive yourself…at least a little bit…"
He didn't know how to ease his brother's pain and it frustrated him. His mom would know…she always knew how to make things better and maybe in a way, she could help now.
"Please Jay, if not for yourself, maybe for mom? She would hate what you are doing to yourself…it would break her heart."
I already broke it.
Turning away from Will, he clutched his chest. The sobs came next, forcing Will to adjust how he was sitting, lean over and grab his brother in an awkward hug from behind. His chest to Jay's upper back and left hand over Jay's hands clutched at his heart.
He laid his head ear to ear on Jay's and knew his own tears were dripping on his brothers forehead but he couldn't let go and hung on as tight as he could with out jarring Jay's injuries.
"I'm sorry bud. I know everything is so hard for you right now, but please take the guilt off your plate. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Please Jay…"
Will held onto his little brother until the sobs turned into hitching breaths then finally steady breathing and even though Jay had cried himself to sleep he didn't let go.
X
The next day
Will quietly let himself into the apartment incase Jay was asleep. Not finding him on the couch, he felt a trickle of panic shoot up his spine when he didn't find him in his bedroom or the bathroom either.
What the hell?
Pacing around the apartment, he whipped out his phone and called Hailey, "Hey…you hear from Jay? Is he there? He's not in his apart…"
There was no need to finish the thought when he caught sight of the note on the counter.
Went to Mom's. Won't be gone long. I'll text you when I'm on my way back
"Hailey…"
She could hear the sadness in Will's tone, "Will? What's going on?"
"Jay's gone but he left a note. He went to the cemetery to see our Mom."
She sighed and the whole of Intelligence heard it wondering what was going on.
Her eyes met Voight's asking permission just in case she needed to leave, "Do you want me to go get him?"
"No… thanks though. I'm off. I'm going to drive over and make sure he's okay. I'll give him a couple of hours and see if he wants a ride back."
X
She'd barely hung up the call when the question rang out.
"Hailey?
"Will was worried. Jay wasn't at home…"
She saw the windup of fear in them but nipped it in the bud, unwittingly replacing it with sadness.
"He went to see his mom."
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He'd been sitting there for a while, staring at his mom's name and holding the list of the things she wanted for her funeral…the list she had to write herself. It was a bit tattered; the left edge had lost all of the pieces from when it was torn from the note book, there were smudges here and there and it was full of creases, but none of that mattered. Without looking, he gently unfolded the list and flipped it over.
Sunshine,
She always called him Sunshine. In his memories he could still hear her say it. He closed his eyes and heard the whisper of it that last time, 'my sunshine…' he didn't know it would be the last time.
He ran his finger over the page. More than what was in it, was the fact his mom wrote it, her handwriting so personal to her. It was a page she held while writing him, while her thoughts were on him and only him.
Except for the last paragraph, he couldn't read the words right then, they…he couldn't read them but knew them, so instead he focused on the loops of her shaky cursive and the unique way she wrote her 'G's. Flicking his eyes over the page, he found them all.
He touched the heart with the googly eyes and big smile at the bottom of the page, then, taking a deep breath, he read the last paragraph and let the tears flow.
'My Sunshine, there aren't enough words in the dictionary to tell you how much I love you. God gave me a precious gift when he allowed me to be your mom. Please remember how proud and how grateful I am to have you as my son. Carry that in your heart, it will never change. You will always be my sunshine!
Love always, Mom'
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Jay sat in a corner booth at their favorite dive bar waiting for Hailey. He chose the bar for their thing because it felt easier. He needed a noisy background as a buffer to the emotions that came with the words. The sound eliminated the daunting quiet that sometimes came when they drank at their apartments, the quiet that fell when it was too hard to find the right words for the pain.
He looked at his watch. He had five hours and 32 minutes left of July and even though the shanks of individual anniversary's were over, the stench of the month would linger for awhile. The shame of the 29th still clung to him and would for the foreseeable future, but like every other year he carried the letter from his Mom and would continue to do so until he felt anchored to her forgiveness.
He hadn't intended to talk to Hailey that night. He felt like shit and was still bruised as hell, but as he sat on his couch that afternoon staring at nothing, he had realized, like hit up along side the head, realized, he couldn't do it again. For the last 15 years he had gone through July with a desperate need to cut it from the calendar all together, but July would always be the seventh month and the shit that happened to him would always mark certain days. He needed to stop letting that shit poke him til he bled, then go through the pain of it alone like it was some sort of punishment.
His mom used to say something like, 'talk about the sorrow so you can eventually get to the joy.' He wanted to do that for his mom…and for himself.
He could feel the weight of the letter from his mom in his pocket; the heaviness of why he needed to carry it with him at this time of year - the shame of July 29th, and the lightness of her perpetual forgiveness in the words. He wanted to make her proud and knew talking to Hailey would do that.
X
They had been sitting in the bar for an hour, both on their second beer when Jay finally bit the bullet, something he should have done over a month ago.
"Did I ever tell you the reason I became a Ranger?"
She shook her head, "Mm mmm."
He took a breath, blinked the glassiness from his eyes and gave Hailey a sad smile.
"When I was little, my best friend was this kid named Andrew Jostad…"
…it started with Andrew.
The End
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Well, there it is. I hope you liked it. You all know that ending stories is Barbara's favorite way to fuck with me, so it always feels good when I can work my way around her shenanigans and wrap one up.
Thanks as always for your comments, kudos and reviews. They really, really do make my day. I appreciate you guys sticking with me and continuing to read my stories even though BARBARA leaves you hanging so often. I know I'm throwing Barbara under the bus there, but I'm not taking the hit.
Stay safe peeps!