Hailey's POV:

The next morning, I walk into the precinct with Jay. We're both tired from the previous night, but we're trying to put on our poker faces.

As we walk into the bullpen, Adam Ruzek spots us and waves us over.

"Hey, guys! Don't forget about my fireworks party tonight. It's gonna be a blast!"

As we walk over to Adam, I notice that Jay is gripping my hand tighter than usual. I glance over at him and catch a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. I squeeze his hand back reassuringly, silently telling him that I'm here for him.

I know he's not really looking forward to the party tonight. The noise and commotion might trigger flashbacks of the explosions and gunfire from his experiences in the war. I make a mental note to keep an eye on him and make sure he's okay.

We're chatting with the rest of the unit, and the topic of Adam's fireworks party comes up again. They all start talking about how much fun it'll be, and how we should definitely go.

Jay is quieter than usual, and I can see the reluctance in his eyes. But the team is pressuring him to come, and he doesn't want to let them down.

I see Jay getting visibly uncomfortable with the unit's insistence, and I step in to help him out.

"Hey, guys," I say firmly, "let's give him a break, alright? Maybe he doesn't feel like going to the party tonight."'

They all stop talking and look at me, surprised by my intervention. I give them a firm look, and they nod grudgingly, understanding that they're putting too much pressure on Jay.

I subtly touch his arm, silently reassuring him that he doesn't have to go if he doesn't want to. But I know he'll probably still end up going, not wanting to disappoint the team.

Jay's POV:

I feel Hailey touch my arm, and I know she's trying to give me an out, a way to get out of the party without looking like I'm bailing on the team.

But I know they'll all be disappointed if I don't show up, and I don't want to let them down. So I force a smile and nod slightly, silently resigning myself to the fact that I'm going to that damn fireworks party tonight.

Hailey's POV:

I'm in the bathroom at mine the apartment, putting on my makeup and getting ready for Adam's party. I hear the sound of fireworks from outside, and I know they must have started early.

As I finish up, I can't help but think about what happened with Jay earlier in the day. He had been quieter than usual, and I could tell he was struggling. He had gotten a call from one of his former Navy buddies earlier, and it had somehow triggered a traumatic memory for him.

He hadn't shared the details with me, but I could tell that whatever it was had deeply affected him. I didn't push him to talk about it, but I could see the pain in his eyes. It made me worry about him going to the party, knowing that the noise and commotion might set him off.

I walk out of the bathroom and spot Jay in the living room, struggling to button his belt. His hands are shaking, his face tense. I can tell that he's on edge, his mind still preoccupied with the party.

I walk over to him, concern etched on my face. "Hey, are you okay?" I ask gently, placing a hand on his arm. "You're shaking."

He looks up at me and tries to smile, but it's a weak attempt. "I'm fine," he mutters, his voice tight. "Just a little jumpy, that's all." He continues trying to button his belt, but his trembling hands make it difficult.

I take his hands gently, stopping him from fumbling with the belt clasp.

"Let me help you," I say softly, taking over the task. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, and I know he's not fully present right now.

Once I manage to get his belt buckled, I look up at him and meet his gaze. His eyes are a little vacant, unfocused. I can see that he's struggling to keep his composure, and I have a feeling he's on the edge of a flashback or a panic attack.

I reach up and gently touch his cheek, trying to bring him back to the present. "Hey, talk to me," I say softly. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He looks at me, his eyes finally focusing on my face. "I don't think I can go," he mumbles, his voice shaking slightly. "I can't handle the noise and the fireworks. It's too much."

I nod, finally understanding the cause of his distress. I had figured it had something to do with the party, and now I can see just how much it's affecting him.

"It's okay," I reassure him. "You don't have to go if you're not comfortable. No one will mind if you skip it."

He shakes his head, still looking at me. "No, I have to go. Ruzek won't let me skip it. The whole unit's expecting me to be there. I can't just leave them hanging."

I sigh, frustrated that he feels so pressured to attend this stupid party. "You could just say you're not feeling well," I suggest, trying to give him a way out.

He shakes his head again, his jaw tense. "No, they wouldn't buy that. They know I don't get sick, and they'd just come knocking on the door to check on me. I can't blow this off, Hail."

I can see that he's determined to go, no matter how much it's affecting him. I know that he feels like he has to put up a strong front for the team, to keep up the tough guy image. It pisses me off a little, knowing that he's pushing himself past his limits just to appease everyone else's expectations.

Later that night, we walk into Adam's house, the sounds of fireworks and music assaulting our senses. I can feel Jay tense up beside me, his body rigid. I subtly reach out and grab his hand, giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance.

As soon as we step inside, the unit members spot us and start making their way over. They're all smiling and cheerful, clearly excited about the party. Adam is the first to reach us, a big grin plastered on his face.

He claps Jay on the back, yelling above the noise. "Hey, man! You made it! Was starting to think you were going to bail on me!" He gives me a quick smile, then claps Jay on the shoulder again.

Jay nods, forcing a smile. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it," he mutters, his voice strained. I can tell it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to bolt from the room.

The rest of the unit surrounds us, talking over each other and trying to make conversation. The noise is overwhelming, the constant barrage of explosions from the fireworks outside only making things worse. I can see Jay getting tenser and more agitated, his eyes darting around the room.

I notice Vanessa, one of the intelligence unit members, standing off to the side, talking to some other officers. I make an excuse to the group and excuse myself, telling them I'll be right back. I walk over to where Vanessa is standing and tap her on the shoulder, getting her attention.

She turns around and gives me a friendly smile. "Hey, Hailey! Glad you could make it. You look great!" She takes in my appearance, her eyes quickly flickering over the dress I'm wearing.

I smile politely and thank her. Then I get straight to the point, not wanting to waste any time.

"Hey, V, can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Jay is still in my line of sight.

She looks a bit surprised, but nods. "Um, sure. What's up?" she responds, slightly confused. She doesn't know what I want to talk about, but she follows me as I lead her out of the main party room and into a quieter hallway.

Once we're away from the music and noise, I turn to face her. "I need a favor," I say bluntly. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

I take a deep breath and explain my situation. "It's Jay. This party's triggering his PTSD. He feels like he can't back out without letting the team down. I was hoping you could help me come up with an excuse for him." I look at her pleadingly, hoping she'll understand and agree to help.

She nods, her expression turning serious. "Ah, I see. Yeah, I get it. He doesn't want to disappoint the team. But I don't think they'll mind if he skips the party. They all know he's been through a lot."

I nod in agreement. "That's what I told him, but he's stubborn as hell. He doesn't want to let them down. But the fireworks are really messing with him. I'm worried he's gonna snap if he has to stay much longer."

Just then, Adam suddenly rushes down the hallway, perspiration glistening on his forehead. He's looking around urgently, clearly searching for something or someone. He spots me and Vanessa and hurries over to us.

He stops in front of us, his brow furrowed. "Have either of you seen Jay? I've been looking all over for him, but I can't find him anywhere," he says, his voice laced with concern. "He's not answering his phone, either."

feel my stomach drop at his words. We had been keeping a close eye on Jay, and he had been doing better, but I hadn't seen him in a few minutes. I look at Vanessa, then back at Adam.

I try to keep my voice steady, but I can't hide the worry in my tone. "What do you mean you can't find him? Where did you last see him?" I ask, gripping Vanessa's arm for support.

Adam shakes his head, still looking worried. "He was just here a few minutes ago. We were all talking, and then he said he needed to step outside for a bit. But that was almost twenty minutes ago, and he hasn't come back." He runs a hand over his sweaty forehead, clearly flustered.

I feel my heart rate pick up at his words. Stepping outside would've meant stepping near the fireworks, and if he heard them go off...

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath.

I start to move towards the exit, determined to find him. "I'll go look for him. He can't have gone far," I say, starting to jog towards the door. I hear Vanessa and Adam calling after me, but I ignore them, my mind only focused on finding Jay.

I burst out of the house, the sound of fireworks echoing in my ears. The night air is cool, but I barely feel the chill as I search for any sight of Jay. I scan the surroundings, looking for any sign of him. I know he couldn't have gone far, but in his state, he might not be thinking straight.

I walk around the corner of the house, trying to figure out where he could've gone. That's when I hear a soft noise to my left. I turn and see a small storage shed in the backyard, the door slightly ajar. That's when a thought occurs to me, and I hurry over to the shed, pushing open the door.

My eyes widen as I take in the dimly lit room of the shed. There, crouched in the corner, is Jay, huddled into a ball, his hands covering his ears. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he's rocking slightly back and forth. He hasn't noticed me yet, his attention completely focused on trying to block out the outside world.

I take a hesitant step towards him, not wanting to startle him. "Hey, Jay," I say in a hushed, gentle tone. He startles a little at my voice, but he doesn't look up at me. His eyes remain shut, and he continues rocking, his hands tightly pressed against his ears.

I take another step closer, crouching down next to him. "Hey, it's just me, Hailey," I whisper, trying to reach out and touch his shoulder. He flinches away quickly, his eyes still shut. I can hear the rapid, shallow breaths he's taking, and I know he's caught in the grip of a flashback.

I reach out again, gently taking hold of his arm.

"Jay, it's okay," I murmur soothingly. "You're safe. It's just me. You're in a shed behind Adam's house, remember? The fireworks triggered a flashback, but it's just fireworks. You're not in danger." I keep talking, trying to ground him in reality.

Jay doesn't respond to my words at first, his body tense, his eyes shut tightly. But then, slowly, he starts to mutter something, repeating the same words over and over. They're barely audible at first, so I lean in closer to try and make out what he's saying.

As I get closer, I can finally make out the words he's muttering. "Not real, not real, not real."

It hits me then that he's trapped in a flashback, reliving some traumatic moment from his past. I tighten my grip on his arm.

I keep my voice gentle but firm. "It is real, Jay," I say. "You're here, with me. You're not in the past. You're in the present. The fireworks are just explosions of gunpowder and gas. That's all they are." I keep repeating the words, hoping to break through to him and bring him back to the present.

Jay suddenly jolts forward, his eyes snapping open. He lets out a gasp, his body trembling. Then his eyes seem to focus on me, and he reaches out, grabbing my arm with desperate hands.

He's breathing heavy, his grip on my arm almost painful.

"Hailey," he whispers hoarsely, his voice ragged. "Please, you have to get me out of here. I can't take it anymore. The noises, they're everywhere. I can't get away from them." He's starting to hyperventilate, his eyes wild and frantic.

I move closer to him, putting my hands on either side of his face. I make him look directly at me, my eyes locking onto his.

"Jay, you have to breathe. You're safe. The noises can't hurt you. You just have to stay calm and focus on my voice." I keep repeating the words, trying to bring him back from the brink of full-blown panic.

Jay seems to be barely holding it together, his breathing erratic and his body shaking uncontrollably. Then, suddenly, the dam breaks. He lets out a guttural sob, his body slumping forward onto me, his face buried in my shoulder. He's breaking down, the stress and fear finally getting to him.

I hold him tightly, wrapping my arms around his body and letting him bury his face in my shoulder. I soothe him, telling him he's safe and that I'm here. I can feel his body shudder as he cries, his tears soaking into my dress.

I don't care about the dress; I just hold him tighter, letting him cry it out. I murmur soothing words, telling him that he's going to be okay.

Some time later, we return to our apartment. Jay is exhausted, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He shuffles into the living room, plopping down on the couch with a weary sigh.

I watch Jay collapse onto the couch, looking drained and exhausted. I know he's still on edge, so I go to the bathroom to grab him some of his anti-anxiety medication and a damp cloth. I return to the living room and sit down next to him, handing him the pill and laying the cold cloth across his forehead.

He swallows the pill, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. I take the pill case and set it on the side table, then re-wet the cloth and dab his face. He's still breathing a bit heavy, his eyes a little vacant, but he seems a bit more present now.

I help Jay upstairs, his movements slow and sluggish. I lead him to the bedroom, and he sits down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He's still a little dazed, his eyes not fully focused on anything.

As I unbutton his shirt and remove it, I notice something that makes my heart clench. There are scratch marks on his stomach, still an angry red color, not quite healed yet.

I pause, gently running my fingers over the marks. They look painful, and I feel a wave of anger and sadness wash over me. I knew he was struggling, but seeing the evidence of his distress written on his body is like a punch to the gut.

I murmur softly, "What happened here?" I know he has a habit of scratching when he's stressed, but I've never seen it this bad before. The marks look deep and painful, and I feel a pang of guilt for not noticing how bad things had gotten for him.

Jay flinches a little as I touch the scratches. He avoids my eyes, looking down at his stomach. "It was during a flashback," he mutters, his voice hoarse. "I didn't realize I was scratching that hard." He still won't meet my eyes, and I can tell he's embarrassed. He hates seeming weak or out of control.

shake my head, gently moving his chin so he's looking back at me. "You don't have to apologize," I tell him firmly. "I'm not upset with you. I just wish you would've told me it was this bad." I run my fingers gently over the scratches, my heart aching at the sight of them.

Jay suddenly pales, his face becoming ashen. He puts his head in his hands, and I can see him swallow hard, like he's trying to tamp down a wave of nausea. He drops his hands to his stomach, gripping it tightly as he mutters.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

I quickly scramble off the bed, grabbing the small trash can from the corner of the room. I shove it under Jay's face just as he starts to vomit. I rub his back soothingly, murmuring words of comfort as he retches into the bin.

When he's finished, he collapses back against the headboard, looking even paler and weaker than before. He's shivering, and I notice a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. "You okay?" I ask, gently stroking his forehead.

He nods weakly, grimacing as he tries to get comfortable. "I think so," he mutters. "I just feel really nauseous and dizzy." It's clear that the medication on an empty stomach and the strain of the flashback has taken a toll on him. He looks fragile and exhausted, and I feel a pang of helplessness.

I gently brush the hair off his forehead, noticing how clammy his skin feels. "You need to get some rest," I say softly. "You're exhausted." I hand him a glass of water, helping him take a few sips to wash away the taste of vomit.

He nods, mumbling, "Yeah, I think I do." He's starting to sound more coherent now, but he still looks haggard and shaky. I help him lie down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath.

I watch as Jay settles into a light sleep, his breathing gradually deepening and evening out. Once I'm sure he's asleep, I crawl into bed next to him, pulling the covers up around us. I lay my head down on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. I'm exhausted from the night's events, and it doesn't take long before I fall asleep too, cuddled close to Jay's side.