A/N
OMG SOooOOoOoooo many A/N notes!
a/n 2: Oh dear lord peeps, I have broken my new/old rule once again. Posting before the story is complete. Barbara is happy though, she thinks it will lead to my suffering down the line…she's such a trouble making enabler.
This is going to be 8 or 9 chapters and 6 of them are done. So, I'm going to release this into the universe, then run away until next Thursday.
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a/n 3: Haven't really decided how I want to mark time, but since the first day takes 2 1/2 chapters, I have time to figure it out.
This one is different for me - I think. Whump crumbles (whumbles I guess) of physical and angsty moderate - mini-whumps throughout, instead of the bigger whumpy stuff in every chapter (which is what I usually shoot for)
But let's not kid ourselves, you know me. Shits gunna go down.
Whumbles to whump is the path we are taking here.
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a/n 4:
Voight USUALLY isn't a dick in my stories…more fatherly-ish…not in this one. He's still not the murdering asshole/sometimes fathery figure from the show, but he's a pretty dicky dick in this one.
Time frame is a mish-mash of what I want. Antonio, Erin and Al are gone. Jay and Hailey are friends, solid partners, no inkling of romantic interest, Adam and Hailey haven't got together.
Okey dokey then. Now that you have successfully waded through all of my bullshit, let's be mean to Jay.
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DAY 1
All cases involving kids were hard, but this case was brutal. A new drug had hit the streets called Gemini, a potent concoction of drugs that was cut inconsistently, making some batches 'the best high ever' and others deadly.
They were almost three weeks in and in that three week period the toxic drug had killed 18 young adults, kids really.
Lead after lead hadn't panned out, every corner boy they brought in could give them nothing and the stress was taking its toll on everyone. Hailey more than the others was affected. She wanted payback. One of the first kids to die, Billy Rowe, was the little brother of a long time CI.
Jay was also at his wit's end. The fact that their elusive perp had been identified as Colin Spenser, an honorably discharged ex-Army Ranger, had Jay burning with anger. He didn't understand how someone went from protecting their country to destroying the people in it.
Patience wearing thin, they'd all been sniping at each other the last three or four days, Jay more than the others. The 'brothers in arms' aspect of the case had Jay putting undue pressure on himself and he was no longer able to keep a lid on his emotions.
Ninety percent of the time the unit worked good, hell great, together but occasionally a case like this came up and with the quiet desperation to solve it, tempers ran hot. Which was why, when things went sideways, the team was so angry at Jay.
X
Jay had gone to meet a CI and 45 minutes later called in with a solid lead to the whereabouts of Spencer. The rest of them rushed down the stairs vesting up and were out the door within five.
"Dropping anchor, alley behind the house," Jay called in the status almost immediately. "Positive ID on Spencer."
"Copy. Ten minutes out."
"Got it."
"Stay put until we get there."
Nerves raw, Jay huffed out a breath and shook his head, he wasn't an idiot, "Copy that."
He caught glimpses of Spencer as he paced in the kitchen. There was a gun tucked at his waist and the shift of a curtain revealed two Ak's.
"Gotta go in heavy Sarge, two Ak's on the kitchen table."
"Copy."
Spencer paced out of sight and the flutter of the curtain revealed a small boy, eight or nine, being dragged out of the room.
"Sarge…there's a tender age male inside…approaching the house."
"Approach but do not, I repeat DO NOT go in."
"Copy."
He was on the back porch, able to see through the small window in the door. Spencer was raging at someone presumably the kid but couldn't see who at this angle.
"Back porch Sarge. Got eyes on Spencer, not the kid. Unsure if anyone else is in the house."
"Hold. Two minutes out."
Just then the shit hit the fan. Spencer grabbed the kid and brought him into view. Lifting him, he slammed the kid into the wall, pulled his gun and put it under the terrified boy's chin.
"GUN! GOING IN!"
Voight was screaming in his ear to hold, but he didn't have a choice and kicked the door so hard it flew off the hinges, "Chicago PD. Put the gun down!"
He ducked a shot from Spencer before the asshole ran out the front door, the kid running in the opposite direction.
"He's coming out the front. Red hoo…"
Jay was yelling into his radio as he went after Spencer and had just crossed the threshold between the kitchen and dining room when he was hit by 250 pounds of pure muscle driving them through a cheap door and down a flight of stairs.
He seemed to break the asshole's fall as they hit what seemed like every single step. They landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and of course he was on the bottom.
Jay was a great fighter, but he was no match against this behemoth after taking the brunt of their trip down the steps. The asshole's subsequent blow to his temple followed by a blow to his chin and then three quick jabs to his gut before he could even catch his breath from the tumble, were evidence of that.
The jabs to the gut banished any air he could suck in but he was able to guard against the next two blows before the unknown perp lifted him by his vest and slammed him into the wall twice, head ricocheting against the wood paneling both times, then left him in a heap as he ran up the stairs.
He heard the team break in but didn't hear any shots fired. He was pretty sure he could hear the take down of the big guy even with his ringing ears and hoped it was Kevin and Adam double teaming him, he didn't think anyone else could bring him down without getting hurt.
X
Picking up his lost gun and radio on the way, Jay had barely dragged his ass up the stairs when Hailey, worry and anger playing on her face, appeared in front of him.
She scanned his face, taking in his split lip, the start of a black eye and scrapes to his forehead and chin.
"Are you okay?"
Hands on his knees and still trying to catch his wind, he looked up at his partner as she studied his face and sucked in a much needed, big breath.
When he followed it with a rough 'fine' on the exhale, she huffed in annoyance at the lie and in a sharp voice confirmed Spencer's direction because the asshole was in the wind.
Wiping the blood from under his lip, he could only gasp out, "Front…red hoody…"
When he had a bit more air, he lifted his chin to the opening of a hallway and continued, "kid ran…through the archway, eight to ten years old…caucasian, brown hair, jeans…green shirt."
Kim came from the direction he indicated. "Kid's not back there. Couple of bedrooms, a bathroom…there's also a mudroom, but the door's dead bolted."
Straightening up with a barely suppressed groan, he found himself momentarily caught in the crosshairs of Voight's ire before being dismissed with a gruff, "Ambo's outside. Get checked out."
He slowly made his way out of the house and could see the entire team was pissed about losing Spencer. Jay was pissed too - at himself for letting Spencer get away, he should've had him. He was also worried they hadn't found the kid, he might be hurt or at the very least, he was in danger. Hopefully the big guy could give them something.
Resigned to being checked out, but not wanting to be benched, Jay had left the tumble down the stairs out of the scenario and only told the medics he'd been punched in the face couple of times.
Only Voight had stayed behind with him, sending the others back to the district and not because he was concerned about his detective's health. Voight's sole purpose for remaining at the scene was to tear into his detective for going in without backup even though there was a good reason for doing so.
Sylvie and her partner weren't saying much, just the bare minimum as they did their thing. This whole case had the city on edge. They had transferred a number of victims to hospitals themselves, but knew Intelligence was in the thick of it and feeling the pressure at every turn.
Jay was only able to get in, "The kid…" before Voight turned his rebuke up a notch.
The medics stayed quiet while they wrapped up their assessment, pretending they weren't hearing their friend being chewed out. To them it sounded unjustified, but who were they to judge. Jay did have a bit of a reputation for being a cowboy, even when his actions were backed up with a solid reason.
Jay tried again to ask for an update on the big guy, Spencer or the little boy, but Voight ignored his inquiries so he could wrap up his set down.
Once Voight stopped yelling and walked away, Sylvie gave Jay the all clear to leave the back of the ambo and ride a desk, but couldn't give him clearance to go in the field.
"Sorry Jay…you'll have to be seen at Med to be cleared for that."
Wincing, at the fact he hadn't been cleared, then realizing his boss hadn't heard it, he nodded at the medic.
"Okay…thanks Sylvie."
There was no way in hell he'd be riding a desk.
He was't quite able to stifle a groan as he climbed into the truck, eliciting a 'you deserve it' scowl from Voight, or at least that's how Jay saw it. Maybe he was just projecting how he felt onto his boss.
Riding back to the 21st with Hank was uncomfortable to say the least. The heavy silence a time bomb ready to blow between them. Normally he would have complained about someone driving his truck but this was Voight, and plus, though he would never admit it, he just didn't think he could drive right then.
He sat quietly looking out the window, dreading their arrival back at the district where he was sure the rest of the unit would lay into him for losing Spencer, even though they all knew he had a good reason for going in.
Their worry and frustration would come out as anger, he got that but he had a fucking headache and his body felt like one big bruise. He just didn't want to waste time on bullshit, he was running on fumes, they all were.
When they arrived, he couldn't get out of the truck and away from his boss fast enough. Literally. He knew his muscles would loosen up a bit once he started moving again but right now he was stiff and sore from his tumble and moved in slow motion. Luckily Hank must have felt the same way because he was out of the truck and through the doors before Jay's second foot even hit the ground.
X
Platt was equally stressed about the case and gave him the stink eye when he walked in, called him to the desk and gave him a shitload of paperwork like a punishment for losing Spencer.
There was a moment when she appeared to really see him, her focus drifting across his face taking in the darkening bruises, cuts and scrapes.
Concern landed on her face and just as quickly flew away when she handed him another stack of forms for his detailed version of events. Normally this was all done on the computer but since he 'played cowboy,' he would be hand writing them to be checked before he was allowed one key stroke of his tale.
He sighed and grabbed the dead tree from Platt and headed for the bullpen. Before the gate closed she called him back, not for snarky words of care that she would normally throw someone's way, but with a directive to have the forms back to her before he left for the night.
The case was the priority so they both knew that wouldn't happen but Jay gave her a brief nod anyway and headed up the steps, wiping away any hurt that might have landed on his face by the time he reached the top step.
"Hey…any word on the ki…"
Kevin cut him off before he could even finish his question, "Not cool bro. Not cool."
Whatever he might have achieved in the facial expression arena cracked when all heads turned to him, broadcasting their feelings about his 'little stunt.' Voight's words not his.
"Christ man! We had him!"
"What the hell was that Jay! You could have, someone could have gotten killed."
He was incredulous, "Ya, that little boy! That's why I went in!"
He had gotten something from everyone and oddly enough, it wasn't Hailey's death glare that hurt the most, it was the head shake and look of disappointment on Kim's face. No anger just disappointment. He couldn't argue with disappointment.
Voight had the most to say, an angrier rehash of what he'd said at the scene but with more volume now that they were out of the public eye.
Hands firmly planted on his hips, Jay stood there and took it, let their words pound him into place, then pounded back.
"Any one of you would've gone in if you saw a little kid in there."
"Yeah but there wasn't a little kid…"
He flung his hands out to the side, "What the hell?!"
"…none that we saw."
That's when he got it…they weren't just pissed about loosing Spencer and taking it out on him, they were mad because he went in alone and they didn't believe his reason for doing so.
Dropping his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a somewhat calming breath before addressing the team again.
"There was a kid. Spencer had him pinned to the wall with a gun under his chin! He was…"
"Stop with the kid Jay!"
Tipping his chin down, he raised his eyebrow at Adam, "Excuse me?!" then glared at the lot of them, "You guys know damn well that if I did go off half-cocked, I would've copped to it, not lie about a kid to cover it up."
"Look, we get it man. We all wanna bust this guy but you should've waited, now he's in the wind…"
"Who knows when we'll get another chance."
Biting his lower lip, he was at a loss. No one wanted to hear about the little boy since no one else saw him. Their lack of trust left him feeling wounded but, unsure what hodgepodge of emotions 'wounded' actually was, he gave his anger free rein again.
"I don't know why it's so hard for you all to believe there was a kid and that's why I went in. I'm not stupid I know what I'm doing."
"No one said you were stupid Jay."
"Then what the hell are you all saying Hailey, on top of basically calling me a liar?"
He looked at the rest of them then back at Hailey, "What? What are you saying? I'm reckless, a cowboy, what? … Because what you should be saying is 'let's find the kid.'"
Done with their bullshit for the moment and needing to cool off, he gave them one last exasperated look and loped his aching body back down the stairs, shooting Platt a dirty look as walked by the front desk. He just didn't give a fuck.
X
He hadn't really known where he was going when he left the bullpen but decided on the locker room and a hot shower. His tumble down the steps was settling in a little deeper and the last thing he wanted was for Voight to pull him.
Realizing he still had the stack of bullshit paperwork in his hand, he threw it in his locker, popped two ibuprofen and started the arduous process of undressing, which left him even more desperate for the hot water of a shower.
His muscles started to loosen as the steaming water rolled down his body relieving a bit of the ache that had set in. He wanted nothing more than to just stay under the hot water, but he had work to do and wasn't going to let a little headache and some sore muscles keep him from it.
He stepped out of the shower stall with a towel wrapped around his waist, caught a look at his body in the mirror and walked over for a closer look.
"Shit."
His eye was black but not swollen and luckily none of the cuts or scrapes on his face would need stitches but they looked far from pretty. Long lines of darkening bruises striped his body. He was an absolute mess. No wonder he felt so shitty.
It seemed like any place not protected by his vest had an angry bruise where he had hit the edges of the steps as he tumbled: Just above his left knee, right bicep down to his elbow, left shoulder; he pulled the towel down a bit, left hip, across his lower back and a cluster of bruises on his abdomen and side from the asshole's punches.
He counted himself lucky when he noticed the fat, barely there bruise on the back of his neck. Another 'shit' escaped in a breath when he touched it. A little harder and he would have more than likely broken his neck.
But what surprised him the most, was the almost black bruise just left of center. He didn't quite dodge the bullet like he thought.
It made sense why he wasn't feeling it. His whole body was a bruise, making it hard to differentiate between the ones left by the stairs, fists, or a small piece of metal traveling 800+ miles per hour.
Taking two more ibuprofen, he finished dressing in dark jeans, a long sleeved black t-shirt and Blackhawks zip hoodie and headed back upstairs to hopefully be ignored.
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Okey dokey. There it is. See ya next Thursday. Stay safe peeps!