kinda feel like writing an Upstead fic series type thing on AO3 where each chapter is just missing moments from episodes, especially upstead heavy episodes.....
Messed around and wrote a post 9x13 Upstead fic. This might be a one-and-done for me, or I might try this out again sometime. Either way, this was fun!
Words: 3K
Warnings: Mentions of 9x13
This will likely be up on AO3 in the next few weeks when my invite is supposedly going to be extended. Wasn’t aware that was a thing- I’m new here, friends. For now, it’s under the cut.
Summary: In the comfort of their home, Hailey breaks down in the aftermath of the case. Jay is there to hold her through it.
A/N: pheeeew i haven’t written for my loves in a hot minute but episode 9x13 was INCREDIBLE (big props to our girl Tracy Spiridakos for those incredible scenes!!) and so naturally i decided to write a quick post-ep fic. here we goo!!
Read on AO3!!!
She smiles. She’s with family—because Intelligence, including Trudy, are her family. They’re here, sitting in Molly’s that Trudy commandeered just for this occasion to celebrate Hailey’s ten years on the force. A milestone, one that Hailey, ultimately is proud of.
Except she can’t bask in that pride—not in the aftermath of the case they just closed. Not when, as a cop, she failed to save a victim and instead saved a criminal. In her heart, and in her head, Hailey knows she couldn’t have known. She knows she couldn’t have known the full, horrifying extent of the situation during those moments under freezing water, trying not to panic as she tried to free them from the car. Yet, it still clings to her. It clings to her the way her sopping wet clothes clung to her when she got out of the river—out of the pool.
She doubts she’s going to go swimming any time soon.
Her body—her muscles, her bones—it feels heavy. Like she’s sinking to the bottom of the river and can’t find the strength to swim to the surface. Even as she sits on the stool, nursing a beer, listening to her friends recount their first years as officers, laughing at old memories that shaped them into being the cops they are today, the smile doesn’t entirely reach her eyes. She doesn’t think she deserves it to. Not when a woman is dead, leaving behind a husband and two children. Not when Hailey could have saved her.
She sips at her beer, using it to find reprieve in the act of not having to force a smile as she drinks, only to summon it back once she pulls the bottle away. She doesn’t want to worry anyone. They’re here tonight for her, and she appreciates it. Appreciates them. She needs this, maybe. To be around people she loves and who love her.
She’s still suffocating, though.
They stick around at Molly’s for a while, but she can feel a certain pair of eyes stay glued to her all night. And she can’t quite bring herself to look at her husband because she knows: the moment Jay looks into her eyes, it’ll only confirm whatever suspicions he’s having right now. Because she knows he knows she’s walking a very thin line between putting on a facade and falling apart.
When enough time passes, his hand brushes the nape of her neck, his lips to her ear as he asks quietly, “You wanna head home?”
Relief pounds through her as she nods. They gather their jackets, and Hailey thanks Trudy for putting this little gathering together. The desk sergeant gives her a knowing smile, and maybe she also sees the lack of light in Hailey’s eyes, because she quips in her usual, blasé Trudy Platt tone, “I’ll give you that photo tomorrow. You can hang it up in your living room.”
Hailey lets out a breathless laugh at that. “Sounds like a plan,” she says before turning to say goodnight to the rest of Intelligence. They all say goodnight to her and Jay, adding on some more congratulations to her, before she follows her husband out of the bar and into the cold night air.
The door swings shut behind them, and as they step off the platform leading up to Molly’s, Jay’s strong arm drops around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as they walk in the direction of the truck. Hailey leans into him, into his warmth and solidness, letting out a breath and watching it puff in front of her. It’s endlessly reassuring to know that when she feels like her own two feet are too difficult to use, she has him to lean on. She tries and fails to swallow a lump that has formed in her throat at the idea of needing him more than usual, following this case. The seed has been planted, and Hailey knows this is a case that will stay with her for a while. She just hopes she’s strong enough to carry it. She already had a case nearly destroy her—destroy her life, especially with Jay. She can’t bear it to happen again.
They reach the truck, and instead of breaking off from her and heading to the driver’s side, Jay walks with her to the passenger side. He doesn’t unlock it quite yet, and instead turns to face Hailey, her back leaning against the truck door as she peers up at him.
In the Chicago night, Jay’s green eyes still glitter, emotion swirling in them that’s all for her. She can read every single one, and her chest grows tight. Jay’s hands come up, cupping her cheeks, and she instantly melts at his touch because her husband always runs warm, even when it’s freezing outside. He’s gentle with her, as always, as he dips his chin a little to keep his gaze locked on hers.
His stare is intense, looking right into her soul because he’s the only one she will ever allow in there, and her throat works as emotion tightens it when Jay says quietly, “Whatever you need, I’m here. I’ve got you. Okay? Whatever you need.”
He knows how she is. He knows how she functions. And after everything that happened, Hailey knows Jay will never let her go through anything on her own, not when he can be there by her side and help her through it. It blows her back, like it often does sometimes, how lucky she is to have someone who is unequivocally on her side, there for her when she needs him to be. She knows that it goes both ways, that she will do whatever she can for him—that she’s done it well before they were ever romantically together.
Being his partner is the best thing that’s ever happened to Hailey. She knows it all the time. In times like these, though, it’s a beautiful reminder.
“I know,” she responds, her voice barely above a whisper, caught in the tightness of her throat. She swears her lower lip quivers, and not just from the cold. “I know you are, Jay.” She doesn’t want to hide anything from him again. She won’t.
He keeps looking at her, and her eyes sting, but she won’t let them shed here. He knows that. His expression softens, and Hailey’s eyes drift shut as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. Comforting. Loving. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs against her skin.
She nods, and he unlocks the truck and opens the door for her, closing it once she’s in and walking around the truck. The drive home is silent, interrupted only by the radio playing so softly in the background, eighties rock sounding almost like a soft ballad in the warmth of the truck. Hailey leans her head back, letting it rock against the movements of the truck as she closes her eyes.
The instant she does, she’s underwater. She’s seeing Lisa’s panicked face. She’s feeling the brutally tight grip Lisa had on her hand, trying to get Hailey to help her. She sees it all. Relives it in a span of a few seconds, and Hailey’s eyes fly open, staring out at the windshield as they drive by bright street lamps and lit up buildings. She bites back a curse. Sleep will not come easy tonight.
When they arrive home, Hailey is peeling off her jacket, toeing off her shoes, as Jay drops the keys on the side table by the door and asks her, “You want some tea? It might help you sleep.”
She looks up at him and sees nothing but loving concern, and Hailey’s chest sinks with the exhale she lets out, lips curving up slightly. “That sounds nice,” she says with a nod, earning a smile from him. “I’m gonna change real quick.”
Jay nods, and she can feel his watchful gaze as she walks to the bedroom. She thinks of how, in the past, she would’ve bristled at someone keeping an eye on her so closely. She’s always been independent, unwilling to let someone fuss over her, give her too much attention. Hell, even at the little party tonight, as much as she appreciated it and how small it was, she’s still not keen on being the center of anyone’s attention.
But it’s different with Jay. With Jay, there’s no such thing as too much. It took a long time to get to this point, but she’s glad she made it here.
She changes out of her jeans and flannel, putting on sweatpants and one of Jay’s old Blackhawks T-shirts. She lets her hair out of its ponytail, massaging her fingers through the blonde strands to alleviate the tension in her skull from the tight ponytail—though, she’s sure whatever dull ache that’s there isn’t from the ponytail, but from the last few days. She looks at herself in the mirror; tired blue eyes with a haunted sheen to them, and she lets out a deep breath.
Wrong. She’d been wrong. She’d chosen wrong. She lost a life because of that. How is she supposed to come back from that?
Hailey bites the tip of her tongue and has to break her gaze from her reflection. Her eyes begin stinging again, and she doesn’t want the tears to shed yet.
She returns to the kitchen, where Jay is pouring a cup of chamomile for her, glancing up at her as she approaches. He smiles, a calm presence when everything feels like it’s been upended, and pushes the cup across the counter towards her, steam billowing from the drink. “Thank you,” she murmurs, cupping her hands around the warm cup.
Jay braces his hands on the counter, watching her. He’s shed his jacket, in only his jeans and hoodie now, and as Hailey takes a sip of the hot tea, he says, “Whenever your head takes you somewhere, take me with you.”
The tea burns her tongue a little, but she doesn’t flinch. It’s a reprieve after swimming in an ice cold river at night. Her husband’s words confuse her for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as she asks, “What?”
His green eyes are locked on her blue. “I can tell when you get lost in your head, when you’re reliving something.” His stare is intense—worried, but swimming in love. He leans forward just a bit. “I want you to tell me when it happens. What you’re seeing. Please. Don’t take it on by yourself.”
His sentiment is overwhelmingly sweet—in a good way. Hailey offers a wry smile. “If I told you every time my head was taking me somewhere I didn’t want it to, I may never stop talking.”
His stare never wavers. “Good thing I like the sound of your voice.”
His words make her smile for real this time—a genuine smile she hasn’t been able to bring on since the night of the accident. She sets her cup down, dropping her gaze from his as she peers into the cup, the reflection of the kitchen light warbling against it. Slowly, her smile falters, that familiar tightness making itself known in her chest, and Hailey sighs. She says the first thing that pops in her mind.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep easily tonight.” She traces a finger on the rim of the cup, aware of Jay’s watchful gaze on her. “I know I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll be right back there. Under water. Watching Lisa panic and hold onto me.” Her gaze drops to her wrist, still an angry red with wounds from Lisa’s tight grip on her. She knows Jay’s looking at the injury, too. Hailey’s nose burns, and she knows for sure she’s close to tears this time. “I’m glad we were able to catch him, that he can’t hurt another woman again. But if I’d saved her instead of him, he still wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else, and at least she’d go home to her family. I made the wrong choice.”
Her voice breaks at the last two words, the heaviness of the reality settling on top of her all over again. Hailey’s shoulders slump forwards, and she brings her hands up to cover her face, already feeling the wetness on her cheeks as she muffles a sob against her palms. The tightness in her chest spreads to a weight sinking in the pit of her stomach, drowning itself and pulling her down, too. The emotions she’d been trying to keep inside flow right out of her in the comfort and safety of her home, and another sob breaks out when she feels Jay’s arms around her.
She feels him right next to her, and he pulls her into his chest, arms securely around her shoulders as she presses her forehead to his chest, her hands clutching his shirt. He’s warm and solid against her, her pillar of constant support, and despite the emotions waging war in her head and heart, there’s an inherent, subtle calmness that relaxes her a bit at the familiar feel and scent of him.
“You couldn’t have known,” Jay whispers against the top of her head. “You said it yourself—she was stuck. In a situation like that, you go for the person who’s easy to save. You had no way of knowing the reality of the situation. It was a shitty outcome in a shitty situation, Hails. You did your best.”
She shakes her head against him, eyes squeezing shut. Being vulnerable with him is so easy, and she doesn’t try to contain the broken cry in her voice as she says, “My best wasn’t good enough.”
“No,” Jay argues roughly, squeezing her reassuringly. “Your best was what anyone would’ve done in that situation. You couldn’t have known,” he repeats emphatically. He pulls away from her slightly, and she still clutches his shirt, but his hands cup her face once again like they had in Molly's parking lot. His green eyes meet her blue, though hers are more teary eyed and red rimmed, and he uses his thumbs to swipe away her tears. His eyes are honest, loving, concerned. All for her. “You need to remember that, okay? I know it won’t be easy, but you gotta try. And if you can’t, I’ll be right here, reminding you of it for as long as you need me to.”
She swallows, throat still thick, as she sniffles. He’s right, she knows. He’s also right that it won’t be easy for her to remind herself of that, because she’ll keep thinking back to it, thinking of how she could’ve saved Lisa. The guilt will cling to her like wet clothes. Making a husband lose a wife, two children lose a mom. It was her decision that led to that. How does she just forget that?
But Hailey nods at Jay’s words, body shuddering with a breath as she shakes her head. “It’s not fucking fair.”
Jay sighs, pulling her in once more. This time, her arms go around his waist, holding him just as close. “I know. I’m sorry,” he whispers, and she can hear the anguish in his voice—pain for what she’s going through, pain for not knowing how to make it better. Him being here, holding her, helps. It always does. His hand rubs up and down her back. “I love you.”
Hailey closes her eyes, sinking into her husband’s embrace. “I love you, too,” she says.
Later, when they’re in bed, Hailey had been right when she told Jay she wasn’t going to get much sleep. She stays awake most of the night. She falls asleep, though, at one point, only to jerk awake after a nightmare of her sinking and sinking and sinking to the bottom of the river, getting dragged down by Lisa.
But Jay kept to his promise. He’s right there, waking up after sensing her awake, like he’s made himself attuned to her sleeping patterns and to wake up when she’s having a nightmare. He holds her, close and tight, and talks to her. Not just about her nightmare, but about anything he can think of. He talks. She listens. And for that time, all Hailey can focus on is the sound of her husband’s voice, and the rhythm of his steady heartbeat.
And she knows. She may have—unknowingly—made a wrong choice in the river, but when it comes to Jay, she’s made all the right ones.
wanted to write a cute Upstead fic after tonight’s episode where everyone did a lil celebration after finding out they got married but that Burzek ending slapped me in the face so now i feel numb
Rest Of Our Lives (And Whatever Is Beyond It) [Upstead]
yeah i couldn’t help myself after watching 9x09 i’m reeling i can’t breathe i love Upstead so much so here’s just a quick post-episode fic of Mr. and Mrs. Halstead waking up the morning after they got married!!!
Read on AO3!!!
She wonders if she’s dreaming. Maybe because she feels like she’s floating—high above the clouds where nothing and no one can touch her. Unless it’s him. She feels lighter than she has in so long, like every muscle in her body has loosened, every nerve relaxed, and it’s more than because she just had a close call with a terrible, horrible situation. Everything she’s feeling right now: this lightness, this bliss, this delight—it’s because of him.
Her husband. Her husband.
Hailey feels Jay behind her—really, she feels him all over, everywhere. His right arm is wounded under and around her and she uses it as her pillow, his bare chest is pressed to her bare back and she can feel the steady rhythm of his heart through his skin and into hers, and his freckled left arm is curled over her waist. And Hailey knows if she were to look down at his hand, she’d see the band on his ring finger that matches her own.
She looks down, and feels everything she expects to feel: dizzying happiness, blissful contentment, consuming love.
It’s real. This is real. She keeps having to tell herself that, because sometimes she’s still learning to trust this profound happiness she’s found for herself. Especially after this period of feeling like she was on the verge of losing it all. And instead of letting her do what she annoyingly sometimes does best, which is make herself worry about things that could go wrong, Hailey allows herself the grace of reveling in it.
Before Jay, Hailey never really gave marriage much thought. She’d been in relationships, she’d loved before, but none of them ever felt like they were it. None of them had felt like the peaceful, life-altering kind of love that she could settle down for. It didn’t help that her closest and most present example of marriage had been her parents, because she’d promised herself long ago that it wasn't something she ever wanted to be a part of. And the potential of bringing children into it? Hell no.
And then came Jay.
Stranger. Partner. Best friend. Lover. Husband. Everything she didn’t think she’d ever find, didn’t think she deserved. But she’d earned him. He wasn’t given to her, by any means. They earned what they have, fought tooth and nail for it, especially through recent events. Now they’re exactly where they want to be, and if this is a dream, it’s not one Hailey ever wants to wake up from.
The early morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and Jay’s internal clock is waking him up. She can sense it in the way his breathing lightens, his arm around her tightening, and the smile that grows on her lips is easy and automatic and an inherent response to Jay. His scruff tickles the skin of her neck, which he had spent the night kissing and biting and loving, just like the rest of her, as he places another kiss there.
And then he says the words that have Hailey’s heart melting by the sheer heat of love they’re spoken in.
“Good morning, Mrs. Halstead,” he rasps, quiet and reverent.
Mrs. Halstead. That’s who she is now. Hailey Anne Halstead. And she knows—and she knows Jay knows—that this new title isn’t a sign of her handing herself over to him. She’s not a man’s woman, hell no. Even Jay wouldn’t let her be that. No, this title is a sign of Hailey cementing the universal truth that is her heart—her Goddamn soul—belongs to Jay. Just like his belongs to her. They are not two halves of a person; they are whole, in their own right, and have laid themselves bare for the other—and they have been accepted. Wholly. Irrevocably.
For Hailey, her maiden name had been tied to a man who caused her so much pain, bruised, yet wearing it because it’s who she is, because she grew up and learned to carry the weight of it.
Her new name, though, is part of a man she loves most in this world, who helped shoulder her weight without being asked to, who sees all of her and loves her for it, not despite it.
And so her grin is wide, dimpled and bright, as she turns in his embrace while she greets back, “Good morning, husband,” just as her blue eyes connect with his green.
Those eyes. They look at her so intensely, nothing but a deep love bathed in purity. They’re so expressive, Jay’s eyes. They’re one of Hailey’s many favorite things about Jay—especially when he looks at her like that. He holds her close, their bare fronts pressed together under the warm blankets, their legs tangling together as he grins that sexy smirk. “That wasn’t too alpha-male for you?” Jay muses, his fingers running down her spine, and Hailey instantly thinks of the night before, her own nails digging into the skin of his back, lost in her consuming love and passion for him to the point where she drew blood. But Jay hadn’t minded. He’d enjoyed it.
Hailey laughs breathily at his question. “Nope,” she answers honestly. “It sounds right.”
Jay’s smile softens and she can feel his fingers play with her hair, brushing the locks off her shoulder. “I agree,” he murmurs before his gaze drops and he closes the distance between them, and Hailey is more than ready for the kiss he presses to her mouth.
It’s meant to be a good morning kiss, but they’re not off their high from last night. Hailey’s mouth opens under Jay’s, and he’s swift in sliding his tongue in, locked in a breathless dance with hers as her hand cups his cheek, the leg he’s got between hers tightening as he pulls her in. Hailey’s heart is thundering, like it does so every time she’s kissing Jay, electricity coming alive in her veins as she feels his left hand press to the small of her back, and the metal of his wedding band is cool against her skin in comparison to his warm touch, and it shoots a thrill down her spine at the acknowledgement of it.
His wedding band. They’re married.
And as intense, wonderful, dizzying it is to kiss Jay, those two words playing in her head make her grin against him, to the point where the kisses dissolve and Jay is chuckling as he pulls back slightly to look at her. “What?” he asks in amusement.
Her hand slides from his cheek to the back of his head, playing with the short strands of hair as she looks from his kiss-pinkened lips to his bright green eyes. “We’re married,” Hailey says—more like whispers, really, like it’s a secret just the two of them share—because, right now, it is. It’s theirs.
Jay’s smile is soft and his own adoring understanding flashes across his face. She knows that he’s feeling everything she’s feeling, too. Where it matters, they know each other like the back of their hands, and once again Hailey thanks whoever up there is listening to her for putting this man in her life. Just trying to think of what life would be like without him is nauseating—it’s unimaginable.
She and Jay—they were meant to find each other. Hailey truly does believe that.
Jay’s left hand comes to grasp hers, the gentle clinking of their rings together making her smile even more as his fingers intertwine with hers. “We are,” he murmurs in response, like it’s something he’s still trying to convince himself isn’t a dream, either.
A chuckle escapes her, and it’s kind of wet because she didn’t really have time to get emotional last night, so they’re kind of coming out now. “Can’t believe you love me enough to want the spend the rest of your life with me.”
Jay squeezes their fingers, his voice gentle. “I want more than that, Hails.”
Her gaze flickers up to meet his, the air catching in her throat at the intensity burning in his eyes. Her voice is unsurprisingly breathless as she asks, “So the whole death do us part thing—?”
“Traditional words,” Jay tells her, the corner of his lips curling into a ghost of a smile. “What I feel for you goes way past this life. It’s more than I can even begin to understand.” Hailey has to press her teeth together so her lower lip doesn’t tremble at Jay’s beautifully honest words. He presses his forehead to hers and it’s enough to let Hailey let out a shuddering breath. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life, and whatever is beyond it, showing it to you.”
His forehead is to hers, noses touching, breathing in each other’s air—being each other’s air. And as Jay’s words wrap around her heart and keep it warm and safe and protected, she gathers the words existing in her own heart to give to him. “And what I feel for you is something I didn’t think I was even capable of feeling, but I know I just had to wait to meet you to actually feel it. Now, to the rest of our lives, and whatever is beyond it—it’s what I know I can always count on.” She feels a tear escape, but doesn’t make a move to wipe away the small physical evidence of what she feels for him. “I love you, Jay.”
His lips brush against hers, and she’s sure she can feel him slightly trembling too in the safety of their bed as he whispers, “I love you. So much.”
Her exact own words, from what feels like a lifetime ago, when she first told him.
Jay kisses her again, soft and slow, a husband pouring more promises and love into his wife, and Hailey returns them wholeheartedly.
Traditional vows were what had been spoken during their intimate little ceremony at the courthouse—but their own vows, existing from the purest part of their souls that hummed with life for each other, were what were uttered verbally, and shown physically, on Hailey and Jay’s first morning as husband and wife. And for the rest of their lives—and whatever was beyond—those vows would be shown again, and again, and again, and again.
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