BeMeanToJayDay has arrived. Another chapter of whumbles, sorry…it's kind of a set up for what comes next.
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Later
The radio silence from Voight felt like a precursor of what would come when the case was wrapped up. The no decision would become something else and no matter what that looked like, he knew there was only a slim chance he would ever be working in Intelligence again. The thought of being kicked out of the unit hurt, so he pushed it away, and despite his exhaustion and physical pain, he doubled down on his efforts to find Spencer.
He knew it was too soon for any results to come back but he called Cynthia anyway. She would have something the next day at the latest and would text him when the results came in.
Checking in with CI's to see if they had any new information was his only play at the moment. It was turning out to be a complete bust until a CI who had been MIA for the last two weeks finally, after another harsh message, called him and dropped the smallest of bread crumbs. He shot a text to Platt with the information and pain be damned, headed out; hoping the bread crumb would turn into something more.
The guy, John Benson, was an asshole but as luck would have it, he wanted Spencer gone and out of the game yesterday, so the prick threw him a couple of bones, two players and their probable location hoping the cops would take out the trash for him.
He couldn't go after them himself. It wasn't a one man take down and because time was of the essence, he sent the info to Platt knowing the unit would roll out immediately. He hated that he was on the other side of the city and wouldn't get there in time to back up the team but headed in that direction anyway.
Platt sent a text 45 minutes later saying it was a good bust and everyone was okay, but didn't have all the details, they were still on scene.
He was at home when she got back to him two hours later. They arrested three of Spencer's dealers and even though they'd gotten nothing from them yet, his intel also pulled more Gemini off the street.
He sagged against his couch, relieved they were getting somewhere. Hopefully the assholes could give them the location on Spencer.
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That night
The pain had been leaking in more and more as time went on and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. Then again, that was easier to do since he wasn't in the bullpen and all of his communications where through text.
I'm a distraction. It's better I'm not there.
Leaning over with his elbows on his knees, he sat on his bed in just his boxer briefs debating between taking a hot shower and a nap or just climbing straight into bed for a couple of hours and foregoing the shower…too much effort for the temporary benefits.
He was spinning about the case and even though they were probably still going at the assholes they brought in, he was desperate for information, desperately hoping that netting these three guys would put an end to Spencer. But as much as he wanted that, he was also worried about the team getting something actionable and he wouldn't be there to back them up.
Still lost in his thoughts was where Will found him an hour later, "Jesus Jay."
Startled at the intrusion, he grimaced and turned to his brother, who was now standing right next to him.
"I'm fine. They're just bruises."
Will put his hand on the nearly black bruise over Jay's kidney looking for rigidity, "Just bruises?"
He swatted the hand away then groaned when his body protested the movement.
"Really Jay, just a bruise? Are you fucking kidding me? Is there blood in your urine?"
Rolling his eyes, he succeeded in not squinting at the pain it caused to the back of them, "No."
He hadn't checked for it, so technically it wasn't a lie.
Wanting to end the conversation right there and escape his brother, he opted to take a shower and put a locked door between them, but when he moved to stand up, he ended up plopping back onto the bed.
"Goddamit."
"I'm telling Voight to pull you."
"He already pulled me Will…I'm benched."
Will scoffed, gesturing to the computer and files laid out on the bed, "Well, that doesn't seem to be stopping you from working the case. Maybe Voight needs to put you in his cage. You're being reckless with your health and you're…Jesus, you're just being stupid Jay…I went to the 21st. They told me you lied. Told me about the 'kid'…" he had just crossed his arms over his chest but released them to put 'kid' in sarcastic air quotes, "…you're going to get yourself killed or…"
"Or someone else…that's what you were going to say right? Or maybe you were going to say I already got other people killed? Right? Because that's what they all believed when they thought I was fucking lying, no one trusted me…no one believed there was a kid…now you think I'm lying…"
Sadness trumped his anger for a moment and he could feel his body sinking into the heaviness of the past few days.
He rested his elbows on his knees and hunched over in defeat, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, tempted to let himself go and just cry.
After a moment he looked up at his older brother and in almost a whisper, asked a question that scared him, "Do you really think I would be so reckless that I would risk getting Spencer?"
Will said nothing, just threw his arms out to the side in frustration, giving Jay his answer.
There was already a dagger in his heart from Will but giving his brother a chance to believe him, not his unit, and it falling flat was the twist of it.
"There was a kid, Will. I couldn't just let Spencer…"
He stopped himself there when he saw the disbelief on Will's face. He was crushed his brother didn't believe him, and even though the team believed him now that didn't mean it didn't still hurt - that it took a witness to change their minds.
Abandoning his sadness, he whipped back to the anger he'd been feeling toward all of them.
His body protested as he stood, and even though he knew the pain of standing was probably written all over his fucking face he didn't care and spewed out his anger anyway.
"Oh…apparently you haven't heard the news or maybe you have and are still just a prick. There was a kid Will. A witness came forward and the search I was running backed her up.
Will was stunned and briefly wondered if his little brother, being in obvious pain, was lying again just to stop the argument, "What?"
Hanging by a frayed thread, Jay stared at him, "You think I'm lying about that too…" he rubbed his face, winced at the pain of it and mumbled to himself, "Jesus fucking Christ…" before going at Will again, "You don't believe me?! Give your buddies over at the 21st a call and they can fill you in, but go do it somewhere else."
"Jay come on…"
"It's fucking pathetic none of you believed me so I don't want to hear any more of your shit Will. Get the fuck out of my apartment before I throw you out myself and don't think I can't still do it. I will put you on your fucking ass."
Muscles stiff from being stationary too long, he limped into the bathroom and slammed the door pissed he wasn't able to hide the pain, but at this point it didn't matter, Will had seen the proof of it all over his body.
Will stood outside the bathroom not sure what to believe or how to feel, but guilt was winning and he wanted it to go away.
"Jay. Jay!"
"Don't make me come out there Will. Don't fucking make me come out there. I've got enough to feel guilty about and I don't need to add kicking my brother's ass to the list."
Will heard the shower turn on a moment later, tried the doorknob and found it locked. He wasn't sure what to do, so he went and sat on the couch hoping for another chance to fix his fuck up.
He turned on the water, popped two Vicodin, then sat on the toilet seat for a long shower length of time. As much as he wanted to get under the heat of the water, there was no way he could get his boxer briefs off without hitting the floor…the pain was too great.
So instead he sat there spinning about every single thing to do with the case because he couldn't get his brain to shut down, adding more emotional pain to the mix. It hurt that he couldn't stop the anger and self pity that grew with every fucking turn of his thoughts. Then to top it off all that bullshit, he couldn't stop the fucking goddamn tears.
X
The following afternoon
Jay woke up with a start, ignored the pain it brought, and instead focused on his anger at himself. He had slept through his alarm, but not only that, he had slept 11 goddamn hours when he'd set it for two. But then the fucking blanket covering him and the absence of his phone on the nightstand told him Will had mother fucking henned him while he slept.
Skipping over the fact he felt more rested than he had in weeks, that the pain in his body had lessened with the catch up on sleep, he went right to guilt at how many more kids might die because he hadn't been working the case for hours.
He spun on that fact while he slowly got dressed and wiped his eyes as they flooded with remorse.
Unsuccessfully reining in his emotions, he grabbed the computer and files off his bed and his phone off the coffee table; then, ignoring his brother sacked out on his couch, he left.
He had debated for a nanosecond telling Will there was a small amount of blood in his urine, but Will hadn't felt any rigidity last night and he'd had bruised kidney's before and knew that was what he was dealing with.
Any other time Will would have told him to keep an eye on it then watch him like a hawk, but his brother was being a dick right now so he wasn't going to tell him shit and he sure as shit wasn't going to let him watch him like a hawk.
On his drive to the lab, pain had started to seep into his rested body. He worried about riding out his injuries until they took Spencer down. When his fear of being sidelined became overwhelming, he pushed it away with his guilt for unleashing all his anger and frustration on his brother when there were five other people who deserved a good dose of it.
He thought about Trudy. He knew she was angry and disappointed, but after the initial stink eye and a shitload of paper work to punish him, she had been nothing but supportive. She put her anger at his 'fuck up' aside to be dealt with later and kept him on the case.
That was how Voight, the team and his brother should have treated him. In his spinning mind he had been making up excuses for them left and right, but just now he realized, that the excuses, even if they were dipped in truth, were just a way to lessen the hurt.
He knew they would all get passed it. It would take awhile, but at least them knowing there was a kid afforded them the opportunity. That didn't mean the whole shitshow wasn't going to continue to sting, and even though these were people he loved, family, probably because they were family, it would always be a scab on the verge of being picked.
When it came to Voight he didn't know what to think beyond the probability that their relationship would be an open wound for the foreseeable future. He knew he had the capacity to bury the hatchet, but was unsure if Voight would be able to. If that turned out to be the case, it would be pretty uncomfortable in the bullpen for awhile because he was done taking Voight's shit.
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He leaned against the lab table on the other side of her's, hands gripping the edges a little too tightly. She was worried about him.
"Chlorine…what the hell? Is that what killed them?"
Cynthia wiped the worry off her face, looked at her favorite detective and smiled, "No. The mix of drugs did it. And it's chloramine. Something you get when chlorine mixes with human waste…
He curled his lip and crinkled his nose in disgust.
"Ya, I know…Good idea to go backwards Jay. We knew it was a long shot, but it paid off. It showed up in #'s16, 18,19 and 21. Roger Matthews, Tim Pelowski, Christopher Baker and Carly Kim. Still waiting for the results on Tammy Carson and Victor Simental, #22 and 23. I just got them."
He cleared his throat hoping to loosen the knot that that formed, "When did they die, the last three kids?"
She scanned her notes to double check. "Carly Kim four days ago. Tammy Carson and Victor Simental, still working on TOD but they were found yesterday morning."
His heart seized knowing he might be responsible for their deaths…Tammy Carson, Victor Simental.
"I'll have prelim…" she glanced up from her notes and saw what looked like anguish flash across her friend's face, "…Jay?"
More information not logged, though the reasoning for not logging the new deaths yet was probably for a kinder reason…they knew he would feel responsible.
Taking a breath, he blew it out with his deflection, "So, for it to show up in the screening, we're looking at a place with high traffic."
She let him get away with avoiding her worry. Whatever she had seen in the previous moment was gone and she knew he wouldn't tell her a damn thing anyway.
"Yes. Restroom, pool, shower room combo, and/or even saunas, sweat is human waste. You need to look anywhere a lot of people traipse around covered and dripping chlorine…chloramine."
"Rules out a shitload of back yard pools."
"Yup. And something not used in a while. The chloramine had to catch a ride on something. Dust is the best bet."
"Huh…" he ran his hand over his face, wincing when he rubbed against the scrape on his forehead, " Okay. Thanks Cynthia. I've got something to work with. You're a life saver."
"No problem Jay. Let me know if you need anything else. In the mean time I'll email you the file."
Before he could make his escape, she spoke up, worry tinging her voice as she took in his bruised face and the pain radiating in his demeanor, "Jay…are you okay? Have you been checked out?"
The corners of his lips briefly twitched into a smile, "I'm fine. Just some bumps and bruises. Got checked out by the medics at the scene and the mother hen later."
She nodded, relieved he'd been checked over by Will, he'd never let Jay get away with 'I'm fine.'
X
Melting into the passenger seat of his truck, he closed his eyes and begged his body to hold on.
"Just a little bit longer."
Please
Pulling in a pain filled breath, he realized he was possibly making a huge mistake but seeing no other alternative, took a Vicodin and three ibuprofen hoping they wouldn't overload his system again and he could keep them down.
They needed to get Spencer today. The pain was getting harder and harder to rein in and he didn't think he had it in him to keep going for much longer. He popped two more ibuprofen when the thought of not seeing the case through spiked his anxiety, then grabbed his computer and started researching the possibilities.
He disregarded spas at this point since they would more than likely be in affluent areas. Defunct hotel's with pools were out. Even if one was boarded up and dilapidated, Spencer would have to deal with squatters. That left public pools, they all had shower rooms.
With budget cuts, three pools had been closed in the last two years, all in neighborhoods where the majority of residents were black. It caused a huge uproar but the powers that be didn't back down, determined to once again put the screws to people of color. Systematic racism up front and center.
Of the three, one had been razed in the name of gentrification but the other two stood empty. He had no doubt Spencer set up shop in one of them and given the locations of both, he knew exactly where he would find the asshole.
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Shits gunna hit the fan next chapter peeps and oof…Barbara's wearing her mean jeans…poor Jay.
Thanks for reading and your comments, reviews and kudos! They make my day!
See you next Thursday. Stay safe peeps! Big smooch!