It wasn't long after she left that Jay passed out from utter exhaustion. Sleeping in all his naked glory, he found that it was a peaceful slumber, one not plagued with him tossing and turning, but instead with him stretched out across his blowup mattress. His face is pressed into the pillow; arms spread wide, legs bent and snores bellowing out of his mouth. It was the perfect sleep that doesn't come too often in the life of a detective. In the nude, he sleeps, with a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. Jay rolled over onto his side, knocking the thin sheet that hid him from exposure onto the floor as his face morphed into a softer look that always accompanies pleasant dreams. Rhythmically, his chest rose and fell with the only sound gracing the room being his soft sighs and his loud snores, that is, until his phone starts ringing.
He groans, and he doesn't bother opening his eyes as he pats around the mattress in search of the intrusive device, "Uh, this better be fucking good," and it better be because he had every intention of sleeping in a little longer and strolling into work later than usual since most of his work was knocked out the day before, "Where the fuck is it?" He peaks one eye open and silently listens for the direction the sound is coming from, -it's in his jeans pocket. And they're across the room, thrown there last night in their haste to undress each other.
Against the protest of his body, and the grogginess of his movements, he gets out of bed but by the time he gets to his phone, the call had already ended. Oh well. He checks his call log and notices that it isn't his first missed call. Abby had called him ten times but he must have been in one of the deepest stages of sleep because he hadn't heard it. The thought of calling her back didn't even cross his mind and since the clock read a little over an hour before he needed to leave for work, he decided to get a head start. He was already up. He might as well start getting ready.
Jay scans his bedroom, noticing the clothes he wore last night strewn all over the place. He needed to clean. He needs to finish unpacking. Most of his furniture had arrived and had been put together; all he is waiting for now is his end tables, bedframe and mattress. Jay's phone starts to ring again; he flips the screen and notices that it's Abby. He really wishes she would leave a voicemail message because then he could listen to it and decide if he even wants to call her back. Instead, she's blowing up his cell phone after going for so long without actually talking to him, at least vocally, -in text was a different story, because her good morning and goodnight messages had always come at the same time, like clockwork, every day, but she never responds when he finds the time in the day to reply back. But, he doesn't want to get into it… Not after such a good night, not after such a good time.
It's the morning after what Jay wants to call a perfect night, a hookup that'll never become more, that'll never happen again, -unfortunately. Still in the nude, but he lives alone so it's no big deal, he starts to pick up all of his strewn clothing and on his way to the bathroom, he dumps it into the hamper he has stationed inside his bedroom closet. His muscles are sore, they're aching from all of the aggressive, passionate pushing and pulling and positions that she had him in. It was new, it was intense, it was something that he's never had, not with Abby, not with anyone. He couldn't afford to get too lost in his thoughts, even as he cranks the shower pressure up, and turns both the hot and cold knobs evenly so the water wouldn't be too hot or too cold, "Perfect," he sighs after the warm water soaks his fingers. The temperature of the water is just right.
He's already naked so it doesn't take long for him to step inside; it doesn't take long for the memories of last night to flash full force through his mind. He steps under the stream of water and shuts his eyes. It's like he can still feel her, he can still touch her, kiss her, and hold her. He remembers burying his face into the crook of her neck, biting down into her perfect flesh, kissing her, carrying her, pulsing inside of her. He immediately opened his eyes when his heartrate started to increase, -that couldn't be healthy. He needed to clear his mind. Jay grabs the soap and starts to lather it in the washcloth and he's careful as he scrubs his body, especially around the marks her nails dug into his skin. They needed time to heal. Jay shivers at the memory, knowing that he'll never again experience the passion and pleasure she managed to provide him. His sex life with Abby dulled in comparison and he now knows it will never be the same, not anymore, not now since he's had her and he doesn't even know who she is or where she came from or anything about her. He needs to forget, or at least think of something else. Jay couldn't afford to be walking around with a hard on. He needed to do something about the current one he's sporting. He remembers how her hand felt wrapped around it, how her mouth felt.
"…get it together Jay," he scolded himself, reaching forward to immediately shut off the hot water. The sudden stream of cold water shocked his body but the longer he stood underneath the flow of water, the more relaxed his muscles became. It took care of his hard-on, at least for right now. He doesn't need to think about her today, not if he doesn't want to be embarrassed.
Jay gets out after shutting off the water. And he finds himself walking naked out of his bathroom, not bothering to grab a towel because he lives alone. It's a perk. And he wasn't expecting company, which leads to the confusion that suddenly spreads across his face when he hears a loud knock on his apartment door.
"…just a second," he shouts, rushing to grab a towel and wrapping it around his waist. It was very few people who knew where he lived and most of them didn't live in Chicago. He's in no rush to get the door, more so because whoever it is should have called first and gave him a heads up about their visit. His bare feet trudge against the wooden floor as he holds the wrapped towel around his waist to ensure it didn't slip, "Who is it?" He asks, not even bothering to look through the peephole of the front door.
"It's me," it's a voice, a familiar, female voice and suddenly his heart drops, landing somewhere in his gut. It couldn't be her. What the fuck was she doing here? To make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, he looks through the peephole and there she is, smiling and waving at the peephole as if she knows he's looking at her through it.
Immediately, he unlocks the door and practically yanks it off its hinges in his quest to open it, "What are you doing here, Abs?" He glances down to see a few bags by her feet. No.
"I wanted to surprise you," she says, grabbing two of the bags and leaving the other two for him to carry. It's a bit difficult since he's holding his towel around his waist but he manages.
"…well consider me surprised."
"You don't look too happy to see me."
It's because he's not if he's being honest. She's supposed to be in Wisconsin. She was supposed to stay in Wisconsin. That was the plan. So, what the fuck is she doing here?
"I have a few more bags in the car. I'll just bring those in later," she walks further inside and she doesn't comment on the fact that he never responded to her last statement, he never denied the accusation, "this place is nice, Jay. You should have sent me pictures." He drops her bags in the hallway, not bothering to bring them further inside. Why does she have so much stuff?
"Um…I'm going to get dressed and then we can talk..." she doesn't say anything, she simply nods as she starts to look around. He never finished unpacking so she takes it upon herself to open up a box in the kitchen and unpack it.
Jay goes into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him before dropping the towel. Shit. This cannot be good. Is she planning to move in? She can't be. Who just moves states and moves in with someone without talking to them about it? Without asking for permission? She has a job. She has ties to Wisconsin. It's entirely unrealistic for her to be moving down here this fast, and at the thought of that, he relaxes. Maybe it's an explanation for her sudden arrival? But, what could that be? What could be so important she had to come here to tell him instead of doing it over the phone? He thinks to himself and when the one plausible answer comes to mind, his back slams against the door. Oh, shit, please don't let that be true. Please don't let her be pregnant. He doesn't do kids. He doesn't want kids. At least, he doesn't think he does. Shit.
It doesn't take long for him to get dressed, more so because he needs to get back out there, he needs to talk to Abby and see why she's even here. Jay is about to walk out of his room, folded socks in hand, -he'll put them on in the living room,- when he spots something in his peripheral vision. Shit, his hands tightened into fists. And he walks over to the article of clothing –the panties- and picks them up, gripping his hand so tightly around them that the fabric crumbles together. She forgot these. His eyes shut as he tries to fight against the threatening memories of that night. A knock beats against his bedroom door, "Jay," he looks up at the sound of his name and suddenly he's looking around, trying to figure out where he can put them, "are you ready to talk yet?" He goes into his closet, dropping them in his laundry hamper and pushing them to the bottom so his clothes can hide them. What is wrong with you, Jay?
Suddenly, unexpected guilt starts to consume him. They're on a break, so did he do something wrong? Does her showing up have to do with their break? He shuts his closet door behind him, and now it's obvious that he did something wrong, if he didn't he wouldn't be trying to hide what happened, he wouldn't be trying to cover it up. He runs his hand down his face, rubbing out the frown lines before plastering a smirk on his lips, "Hey Abs," he opens the door and she looks at him, eyes wide as she scans him from head to toe.
"You look good," she compliments before stepping further inside and taking a look around, "I see you haven't finished unpacking in here either. I bet that air mattress doesn't beat out an actual mattress and bed," yeah, well; he'd beg to differ because last night that air mattress proved to be more sturdy and durable than it appears. He doesn't say that though.
"Abby, what are you doing here?"
Her back is to him as she stares down at the sheet on his bedroom floor, "I missed you," he's not really surprised by that; she's always been clingy, "and you didn't wish me a happy birthday."
She starts to make up his unmade bed and Jay wishes that she would just stop. He wanted her to stop being so nice, stop being so loving, stop trying to be so perfect and he especially wanted her to stop touching the sheets that he had sex on with another woman only hours ago. He walks over to her and practically snatches them out of her hands, leaving her shocked and surprised by the aggressive gesture. And he didn't mean to startle her; he saw the flash of darkness, of curiosity in her eyes and for that he flashes an apologetic smile before dropping the sheets back onto his bed, "I was uh," he scratches behind his ear, "I was a bit busy. Sorry Abs about your birthday," And that's not an excuse, and that's such an asshole reply, but he couldn't exactly give her all the details of his night. He slept with another woman on his girlfriend's birthday.
"Yeah well, it's no biggie," she turns around and shrugs her shoulders. It's never a big deal. It's why they never argue because she finds nothing wrong with anything he does. It's stupid. She wants to be with him so bad that she doesn't care how he treats her. She lets all the anger, the disappointment and frustration boil up inside of her and he knows that one day she's going to explode and he'll deserve every harsh word and every hard hit.
"Abby it's okay to be hurt, to be disappointed and expect more from me."
"You're perfect," she smiles, and that's a bit creepy, but oh well, she seems to always do that when she's trying to put on an act like she isn't hurt, "you're perfect for me. I'm not going to start an argument over something so small and insignificant. If you couldn't wish me a happy birthday then I know it was for a good reason." He's had so few arguments with Abby that he can actually count them all. Almost a year into a relationship, and he can count the arguments they had because they come so rare, and more so because she acts afraid to disagree. She walks on pins and needles around him, absolutely terrified that he'll break up with her, he'll leave her and that's the last thing she wants, it's the last thing she'll accept. She'll do anything to keep him and if he leaves her, she'll do anything to get him back.
Abby moves in closer, hands reaching for the bottom of his shirt and she tugs it towards her, to bring him closer, to grip onto his belt buckle. She truly did miss him, she missed everything about him and it was becoming painfully obvious that the feeling wasn't mutual. She ignored it though, choosing instead to chalk it up to him playing hard to get. Abby started to fumble with his belt until his hands overlapped hers, ceasing all movement. He wasn't in the mood if that's where she wanted this to go. And besides, he had more to say, "I'm not perfect…far from it actually. I probably make more mistakes and have more screw-ups than the average person."
"I know you more than you know yourself."
He highly doubts that but he doesn't voice it, instead, he asks the question he's been dying to know, "What are you doing here?"
"I have some very good news to tell you."
And oh gosh, his earlier fear of her news comes back to him. He's always used protection with her, always, but it's possible that the condom could have broken. That's a possibility. She's also on birth control but he knows that's not a guaranteed prevention method either. And shit, it suddenly hits him again that he didn't use protection last night either. He's gotten irresponsible and careless. He has always, always had protected sex with his girlfriend but he loses his mind and have unprotected sex with a stranger he met at a bar. He could only hope that she was on birth control and she didn't just go around having unprotected sex with men on the regular because that'll just increase the chances of him carrying something. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Why are you hitting yourself?" Apparently he palmed his forehead, smacking it over and over again with the palm of his hand.
"Please tell me you're not pregnant." He doesn't bother answering her first question; he's rambling because he doesn't want a kid, "We can't have a kid. I can't have a kid, Abby. I don't want a kid. Please tell me you're not here because you're pregnant."
"I'm not pregnant," she reassures and the sigh of relief that comes out of him makes her shoulders deflate. Now she looks disappointed but it doesn't stop her from telling him why she is here though, "I couldn't be without you," the relieved look on his face drops, "I don't want to be on break anymore. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I'm willing to wait. I'm willing to do whatever. I want to be with you, fully committed to you and only you. I decided to come live with you after all," And she says it as if he invited her; he's never expressed his wish for her to move to Chicago with him, to live with him. No, this cannot be happening.
Jay tries to mask the look on his face with a smile. And for a woman that claims she knows him so well, she's unable to decipher the true way he's feeling. It's guilt. He hangs his head in shame because while his mind is condemning and criticizing him for what he's done, his body is praising him, is feeling worshipped after the multiple blessed rounds from the night before. He slept with another woman not more than 24 hours ago; and now his actual girlfriend is here, wanting to rekindle things and resume where they left off in their relationship. He doesn't want that. But, he doesn't voice it. For once, he bites his tongue, not wanting to break her heart. She is a kind person, just a bit neurotic and clingy but she typically means well. At least from what he sees and knows of her… He's so consumed in his thoughts, in his guilt that he doesn't even notice Abby moving closer to him, kissing him and he doesn't bother to kiss her back. Instead, he gently pushes her away, "I need to go to work, Abs."
Abby nods, grinning widely because his obvious rebuff of her advances goes over her head; she never seems to get it. Always so focused on that fantasy of them she has in her head, that she never picks up on signs and gestures of when he wants to be alone, when he's done something wrong or isn't comfortable with something she's doing.
"I'll hang here and bring in the rest of my stuff."
Halstead bites his lip and slowly nods his head up and down, "Um, just make yourself at home," he really wishes he hadn't have said that because knowing Abby she will follow through. He doesn't want this. He's so overwhelmed with emotion because he doesn't like her barging in on his life, he doesn't like her moving in, he doesn't like that she wants to resume things, but he cheated, and he feels guilty about it, so he lets her have her way. It's the least he could do. He owes her at least that much.
As he puts on his shoes and socks, he watches Abby walk in and out of his apartment, bringing in her luggage. How many bags can one woman have? He doesn't think too long about it, more so, so he doesn't get upset. If it's one thing the break helped him realize, it's that he and Abby aren't meant to be together, not romantically at least, but maybe as friends. But the smile on her face, the way she keeps looking at him, with so much love and adoration in her eyes forces him to bite his tongue. Maybe he should tell her about last night? She'll probably break up with him. Isn't that a good thing though? But then he sees her face flushed as she drags in her bags and it makes him think of the inevitable heartbreak she'll feel if she finds out. Ignorance can be bliss, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her. So he decides to keep his mouth shut.
And that guilt about his one night stand is his only motivation for letting Abby have her way, for letting her do what she pleases. If that raises a red flag with her, she doesn't voice it. If he gives in now, if he lets her be happy at the expense of his own, well isn't that what he deserves? He's been an asshole in this relationship. The least he can do is give her this, give her something that makes her happy. And if it's him, for some unknown reason, then he'll grant her this. Jay drags his feet towards the front door, badge now hanging around his neck and weapon clipped to its holster now that he unlocked it and took it out of his safe. He was going to be at work a little earlier than planned but he would honestly rather be there dealing with Voight than here dealing with Abby. His home, now no longer felt like his home.
"Hey, wait up," she runs over and before he can turn around, she has her arms wrapped around his waist from behind, "I'll do some unpacking while you're gone," she can't see him so she doesn't see him roll his eyes; if she puts something in the wrong spot, he'll just move it, "and I'll be here when you get back. I'll have dinner ordered for us too. What time should I expect you?"
"..um, late," he says, trying and struggling to pretend to be happy for her, "I can't give an exact time. It depends on how our current case goes and paperwork and if we're loaded with another case or not. I don't have regular hours."
"…maybe I can drop it off for you?"
"No," he immediately shouts because the last thing he wants is for his coworkers to meet his girlfriend, "uh," he lowers his voice, another apologetic expression taking hold on his face after his loud outburst, "just keep it warm and when I get home, I'll eat it." He says it softer this time.
He can feel her nod behind him. Her arms are still wrapped around him and her face is buried into the middle of his back, she inhales the scent of his leather jacket before placing a soft kiss against the material, "Be safe babe," he shivers at the affectionate name, "I don't know what I'll do without you. I wouldn't be able to go on with you."
Slowly, she drops her arms. And even slower, she takes two steps back to watch him. He chances a glance over his shoulder, smiling softly as she blows a kiss in his direction. He knows she's on the verge of declaring her love to him but before she has the chance, he's out the door.