RhekkerSupremacist

Sande5098 on Wattpad One Chicago supremacy ‘Not at all, I just hate winning by default.’

[sande5098]

Find your way

Taglist

Who I write for/ Masterlists:

Chicago PD

Chicago Fire

Chicago Med

Rules and Guidelines:

Requests are open

I won’t write anything I’m not comfortable writing

If I can’t do a request I will let you know, either by messaging privately or publicly if you want to let someone else have a go

I only do x reader or character x character if I ship them or at some point thought they were a good couple.

NSFW will be marked with a * under 18’s DNI or you will be banned.

I don’t write detailed abuse of any kind

I do not write zoophilia, choking out, pyrophilia, Hematolagnia, Hybristophilia, or anything like this.

Don’t copy my posts or upload them to other sites I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION

Don’t ask me to write a scenario through comments, DM or requests only.

I have my own life outside of writing, respect that it might take me a while to get to your request.

Currently I only write for One Chicago, I will not be accepting requests for different fandoms.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[fal-con]

get your badge everyone

[ameliagiovanna0]

I love that Wesley got adopted into Angela's friend group so easily and that he loves them enough to have a picture of all of them on his desk

[morganupstead]

Wesley is too good

[halsteadlover]

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈

*Pics and gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead X Fem!Reader.

• Requested: kinda lol (just two comments).

• Warnings: mention of trauma, panic attack, blood, use of gun and knife, death, curse words, violence.

• Word count: 16K (yeah I’m sorry about that lmao).

• A/N: that’s part 2 of Scars and Shields. First of all I want to apologize if I didn’t to a great job, I tried my best to write about the trauma, the feelings associated to it etc please bear with me lol, I’m more than happy to learn from my mistakes so please comment if I wrote something wrong. Let me know what you think about this, please comment, like and repost if you want, it’d mean the world. Love you all.❤️

<- Part one

Two months later your injuries had healed.

The bruise faded and when you looked in the mirror, it almost seemed like they’d never been there.

But they were there, you could still feel them. Maybe physically they were gone, but emotionally… God, it was a whole another story.

The fear was still there, strong, intense.

Marcus Kane had devastated you more than you’d ever cared to admit, and you hated it.

You hated that even after two months—even knowing he was behind bars—you still counted the exits in every building you entered, still looked over your shoulder, still jumped at the slightest noise, still startled when someone suddenly touched you.

Some days were better than others, some slower, some faster when you somehow managed to distract yourself, especially with work. Some days you found yourself checking the locks only once instead of three times, while others you flinched even when the wind blew the leaves a little more than usual.

And you couldn’t stand it.

You thought about it a lot: if you’d gone to therapy after your first attack, would you’ve have been stronger now? If you’d talked about it with someone, would you have been forced to face it all alone?

What if you hadn’t locked everything away in a box and thrown it into the depths of your mind, without the presumption that everything would be okay?

You didn’t have an answer for this and now, unfortunately, you were forced to pay the consequences.

Of one thing, however, you were sure: without Jay Halstead, you would’ve ended up in an endless abyss, and you didn’t know if you’d be able to get back up on your own.

It was hard to admit it to yourself, especially at first, but ever since that night—when you run to his house in tears—he had never left your side. Ever.

His presence hadn’t been overwhelming; on the contrary, it was like that first breath of fresh air you inhaled after spending so much time underwater.

He had never insisted, never told you what to do, how to behave, he was simply there. He was there in the little things, in the moments of difficulty that seemed small but were insurmountable for you.

And this was because he knew you, he knew who you were.

It was true, you had never confided in each other, you weren’t the kind of people to talk to each other about their feelings, but in all that time you had been partners, you had learned to know each other, really know each other, even if in your own way, even without too many words.

It was late at night, and all the team got back home earlier after successfully closing a case. The doorbell rang suddenly, and your heart skipped a beat, not because you were surprised, but because you knew exactly who was on the other side of the door.

When you opened it, you weren’t surprised to find Jay standing there, looking as if he’d stepped out of a modeling magazine.

“Well, you really were waiting for me, huh?” Jay teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, a smug smile on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, amused but trying to hold back a laugh. “I was already up,” you replied, making room for him to come in.

It had become your unspoken ritual. Since you were attacked, there hadn’t been a single evening, not even one, that Jay had left you alone. No matter what happened, after every incident, even if you both had your own commitments, even if you insisted it wasn’t necessary, he made sure you weren’t alone,

The first few times you resisted, feeling guilty and weak, but as the days passed, as you began to process everything—the attack, your undercover past with Kane—you realized how vital Jay’s presence was, how grateful you were for it, and how much he had helped you.

When you felt like it, you talked about it, encouraged by him but without too much insistence. When you had a panic attack, he was there, hugging you and whispering that everything was okay. When you cried because you felt broken, he dried your tears, telling you how you were the strongest person he had ever known.

And then everything went back to the way it was before, teasing you, playfully insulting you, pranking you, leaving you no time to dwell on the rest like you usually would.

“Look what I brought you and tell me if I’m not the best partner in the world,” he began, once you were both in the kitchen. He pulled out a box of special tea from a white bag… Your favorite one.

“Oh my God, Jay!” you exclaimed with joy. “How the hell did you find that?! I’ve been looking for it since forever. Thank you so much!” You almost jumped like a child, your heart fluttering erratically. Well, yes, you were an herbal tea lover, you couldn’t help it.

He chuckled. “You’re welcome, Grandma.”

You playfully hit him on the arm. “Stop calling me that.”

“Never,” he retorted, laughing. It was a nickname he’d given you since he discovered your endless supply of herbal teas. “Anyway, I found it by chance in a shop nearby, it’s nothing special.”

You picked up the box and looked at it for a moment as you smiled, because you didn’t believe for a second that he’d just found it by chance, and the thought that Jay had been scouring through shops looking for that particular brand of tea for you, made your stomach twist, in a way that happened all too often when you were with him.

“Thank you, seriously, you didn’t have to do it, I really appreciate it,” you looked at him for a moment and noticed how his cheeks had suddenly flushed, like his ears.

God he was so adorable, you wanted to squeeze the shit out of him.

Without thinking too much, you hugged him; you weren’t good with words, and you hoped in that hug, he’d truly understand your gratitude, not just for the tea, but for everything.

He stiffened for a second before returning the hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his body relaxing.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered.

You took a second, just one, to inhale his scent, that perfume that was becoming a sense of security, your lifeline.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, maybe a second, maybe a minute, maybe longer than was appropriate, longer than ideal for just two partners.

But you didn’t move.

Your body reacted before your mind did, the way you melted into his arms, how the tension on your shoulders slowly dissipated. It unsettled you, how normal and natural it was becoming, how easy it was becoming to let go with him.

In that moment, however, you decided not to think about it because it felt good being in his arms.

You focused only on his regular breathing, the warmth of his chest under your cheek, his heartbeat, the rapidity of which you couldn’t help but notice.

For a fleeting moment, a thought brushed the edges of your mind.

Please don’t let this stop.

You pushed it away immediately, guilt curling in your stomach. You shouldn’t have needed this, need him like this.

And yet, when his arms tightened around your body, you held on for a second longer.

When you finally pulled back, there was a moment of silence in which neither of you said anything.

You simply slightly raised your head, enough to look at him, and your eyes met his, so bright, so deep and unreadable. He looked at you intensely, as if he was about to say something, but finally he cleared his throat, breaking the moment as naturally as it had formed.

A small smile graced his lips. “How about a nice cup of tea now?”

“Great idea.”

You moved around each other in the kitchen with ease, as if he’d been there a million times. No hesitation, no need to ask.

Jay filled the kettle while you reached for two mugs, automatically grabbing his favorite without even thinking about it.

You started talking and joking, that hug as if it had never happened.

“You know,” he spoke casually, opening the pantry where you had only herbal teas, of every possible kind, “I wanted to ask you something. Do you even have something to eat in there?”.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I do.”

“You wouldn’t think so,” he teased you. “One day I’ll turn on the TV and find you on that show ‘Me and My Obsessions’ or whatever it’s called.”

“I’m not obsessed. Can’t a girl like a nice cup of tea?”.

“That’s straight up obsession, darling,” he said as he looked through your immense collection. You tried to not to think about how your heart skipped a bit hearing him say darling. “I really don’t understand how you can like all these weeds.”

“Excuse me? They’re not weeds, they’re actually very healthy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he let out a small laugh.

“But why do I have to sit here and be criticized by someone who only drinks black coffee? Without even sugar, and you even have the nerve to say it’s so good.”

“Because it is good,” he picked up a carton of lemon and ginger tea and took a teabag from it, “still better than whatever medieval potion you have in here.”

You nudged him with your elbow as you passed by, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re just uncultured.”

He looked at you, a raised eyebrow. “Wow. Attacked in my own kitchen.”

You paused, then smirked. “Pardon? Your kitchen? Pretty sure this is my apartment.”

“Still, I always end up cooking or making your potions when I come here,” Jay leaned back against the counter.

“And who asked you?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“My kindness, because without me you would’ve died of hunger living only on your herbal teas.”

“And yet,” you shot back, “you keep coming over and you’re making yourself one of my potions.”

For a split second, something shifted in his expression—surprise, maybe—before he recovered, that familiar grin sliding back into place.

“Guess I’m a sucker for punishment,” he said lightly, wiggling his eyebrows.

But the way he looked at you lingered just a beat too long.

The kettle whistled, filling the apartment with a familiar sound. You leaned back against the counter, watching Jay move, sleeves rolled up, posture relaxed, like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

And maybe that was the problem.

You carried your mug to the couch, curling your fingers around the warmth as you sat down. Jay joined you a moment later, settling beside you with just enough space to be appropriate, and yet close enough you could feel the heat of his arm through the fabric of his shirt.

The film you had chosen played quietly in the background, some mindless film that you weren’t even really watching. The silence between you wasn’t heavy, awkward. It was… comfortable. Safe.

You sipped your tea and let your shoulders relax, your thoughts drifting.

Two months ago, being alone in your apartment felt unbearable. The walls were too thin, the silence too loud. Every sound made your heart racing, every shadow felt like a threat.

Now, with Jay sitting next to you, the fear didn’t disappear completely, but it softened. It dulled at the edges, manageable. You weren’t healed, you knew that. Some days were still hard, some nights still endless.

But you weren’t drowning anymore.

You realized, distantly, that Jay had become part of your balance. Not your crutch, but that steady presence that reminded you how to stand back up when your legs felt weak.

He didn’t fix things, he didn’t pretend to. He just stayed.

And somehow, that was everything.

Your gaze flicked to him briefly, looking at the way his jaw tensed when something on the TV annoyed him, the way his foot bounced slightly against the floor.

You wondered when you’d started noticing these things. When did they start to matter? Or were they always important to you but you were just now realizing it?

The thought made your chest tighten unexpectedly.

You looked back at your mug, suddenly afraid of where your mind was going.

This was safe. This was good. You couldn’t afford to complicate it. You couldn’t afford to name feelings you weren’t ready to face.

What if it was the situation that made you think those things? Because, let’s face it, he wouldn’t even be there if it wasn’t for that night. Your relationship would’ve been the same, you wouldn’t have gotten that close.

Still… a quiet, traitorous part of you whispered a question you didn’t dare ask out loud.

What happens when this end?

When he decides I’m okay?

When he stops coming over?

When I have to relearn how to sit in this apartment alone?

Your fingers curled tighter around the mug, as if holding onto the warmth could keep the thought from slipping away.

He was there because he was a good friend helping a friend in a moment of difficulty, nothing more and nothing less, you couldn’t think otherwise.

Jay shifted beside you, his arm brushing against yours. “You okay?” he asked softly, eyes flicking toward you with that familiar concern.

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

You settled deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket to cover your legs, the mug warm between your palms before taking another sip. Jay leaned back beside you as he too pulled the blanket over his legs, stretching his arm along the back of the couch—not touching you, but close enough that you were acutely aware of him.

Too aware.

You tried to focus on the TV, but your mind wandered, drifting backward without your permission.

Your head was exploding from everything that was happening, from all the confusion that was invading it.

This wasn’t new, that was the unsettling part.

Even before everything—before Kane—Jay had always been there. Not like this, not so constant, but present in ways you hadn’t questioned at the time. The lingering looks you’d brushed off as nothing. The way your stomach had flipped whenever he smiled at you, the instinctive trust you’d placed in him long before all of this.

You’d told yourself it was just partnership. Respect. Familiarity.

It had been easier not to look too closely.

But in that moment, sitting beside him in the quiet of your apartment, the truth pressed gently but insistently against your ribs. Something you didn’t want to listen to, however, because you knew it would only bring more pain, pain you weren’t ready to face. Something you’d ignored because acknowledging it would’ve meant risking something you hadn’t been ready to lose.

You swallowed, your grip tightening around the mug.

The fear wasn’t about needing him. It was about wanting him more than just friends and realizing you always had.

Jay shifted again, glancing at you. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, softer this time, like he was afraid of startling you.

You nodded, forcing yourself to breathe evenly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He studied you for a moment longer, like he knew there was more but wouldn’t push.

That was Jay. Always giving you space, even when every instinct in him probably told him to step closer.

And maybe that was why this hurt in a way you hadn’t expected.

Because if things had been different, he wouldn’t even have been there, and you’d never even had the courage to even face these thoughts.

You glanced at him again, just for a second before bringing your eyes back to the film. He was watching the TV now, relaxed, unaware of the quiet war unfolding in your chest.

You wondered if he had ever felt it too.

Or if this had always been yours alone.

Jay took a sip from his cup, and you found yourself glancing at him again, involuntarily. It was only when you realized he was turning his head toward you that you immediately returned your eyes to the screen. Your face was ablaze, your heart pounding, a single realization settling heavy and undeniable in your chest—this wasn’t something that started because he stayed, it was something that stayed because it had always been there.

But you weren’t ready to face it, not at that moment.

“Hey,” he whispered after a while, drawing your attention from that movie you absolutely hadn’t been watching. You looked at him, seeing he’s already looking at you. “If you need to talk, I’m here, you know that, right?”

You smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”

His eyes roamed your face for a moment, sweet and attentive. “I know you know, but I also know I have to remind you every now and then.”

Your heart was beating so erratically you feared an imminent cardiac arrest. “You don’t need to… Really, I’m fine.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, I can see from here how that pretty little brain of yours is working right now.”

“That’s not true, I was just watching the movie.”

“You were watching everything but TV, come on.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because I watch you a lot more than you think,” he replied so casually, as if these few, simple words hadn’t just turned your life upside down. “And that’s why I want to remind you that I’m always here if you need me, okay?”

You nodded, unable to form any meaningful sentence, your voice stuck in your throat.

He smiled sweetly at you and shifted a little, adjusting the blanket over your legs that had begun to fall to the floor. He made sure it covered you more. He was protective, thoughtful, and you struggled to remember the last person who had been so thoughtful to you for the simple reason that they wanted to be so without receiving anything in return.

“Thank you... For everything,” you whispered after a while, both of you intent on watching the movie. You didn’t even know if he’d heard you, but when his arm slid from the back of the couch around your shoulders—squeezing you a little closer to him—you had confirmation that he had indeed heard you.

For a moment, you let yourself just be. No fear. No panic. Just tea, the quiet hum of the apartment, and Jay.

You stayed like that, until tiredness took over and you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder. You were probably dreaming, because, at a certain point, you even felt his lips touch the top of your head.

You didn’t ask yourself if it really happened or not, you simply let yourself be cradled in his arms, in a deep sleep that you rarely had anymore.

-

You were at work, weeks later, in the middle of a morning that felt deceptively calm.

Those weeks had brought small steps forward. You’d finally found the courage to see a therapist, sat through your first session with your hands clenched in your lap, your voice shaking only once—or twice—when certain words came too close to the surface. Time had passed in a blur of cases, coffee breaks, late nights buried in paperwork, and you hadn’t missed how thoroughly you were drowning yourself in work you didn’t strictly need to do.

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, overworking yourself just to stay afloat. But it kept your mind busy, and busy meant quiet. If that was the price of feeling okay, you were willing to pay it—even if your therapist had gently suggested otherwise.

You were sitting at your desk when a familiar voice caught your attention.

“So…” Kim said, and you looked up at her as she sat on the edge of your desk. “You look… Better.”

“Better?”

She nodded, studying you with an intense, searching gaze. “You seem more present, less… I don’t know, like you’re running on fumes like the first few days.”

The first few days after the attack, she didn’t finish, but that’s what she meant.

You let out a humorless laugh, meaning against the back of your chair, arms crossed over your chest. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a little,” she smiled. “But really, how are you doing?”

You sighed. “I’m better. Some days are better than others, but I really feel better.”

“They’re still steps forward, I’m glad to see you like this.”

You spontaneously shifted your gaze to Jay, who was talking about something with Kevin and Adam, one hand wrapped around his disgusting coffee cup and the other tucked into his pants pocket, his posture relaxed. Kim followed your gaze, and in that moment, Jay flicked his eyes on you, mid-sentence.

You blushed and looked away before looking at Kim again.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” you pressed.

“You’ve been doing that a lot, you know?”

“Doing what?”

“Staring at him. You really think we wouldn’t notice?”

Your stomach churned. “I’m not staring at him, stop with this nonsense.”

“Did I say it’s a bad thing?”

You inhaled through your nose, your shoulders stiff. “Kim…”

She studied you for a moment. “He’s always been like this with you.”

“Like what?” You frowned.

“Looking at you, seeing where you are and how you are, making sure you’re okay,” she replied, “and before you say it’s the situation, my answer is no, he’s always been like this with you.”

“That’s just a partnership. We’ve been working together since… Hell, forever. Plus, he’s like that with all of us, that’s just how he is.”

“Sure, that’s how he is,” she winked, “but you can’t deny that he’s always been different with you, ever since you became partners.”

“Mmm, of course I can deny it, because it’s not like that. It’s his nature.”

“Babes, stop wearing blinders,” she retorted, “we’ve all seen the way he looks at you, like you hang the moon. Every time something happens, he checks on you before everyone else. He watches you like a guard dog ready to tear apart anyone who might hurt you. It’s just… I don’t know, he’s very protective of you, even with us.”

“With you?”

“Yeah, Kevin once made a joke about you. I don’t even remember what it was, but Jay almost bit his head off, and that’s just one example.”

You glanced back at Jay, who had just finished laughing with Kevin and Adam and was now looking at the room, eyes flicking toward you again. You quickly looked down at your hands, again, pretending you hadn’t noticed.

You could feel his eyes on you and this made a bunch of butterflies explode in your stomach like you were a teenager.

God, I’m so gone.

Kim leaned closer, her tone softer, almost conspiratorial. “I’m not saying it’s anything you have to deal with right now. I’m just saying… Whatever this is, it didn’t start with Kane. He’s always been like that. And I promise, everyone else in the team noticed it too.”

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sudden tightness in your chest. “Kim…”

“Relax,” she said with a faint smile. “I’m not trying to mess with you. Just... Telling how I see it from my point of view."

You let out a short, humorless laugh, and when you looked up again, Jay was talking to Adam, but his eyes were already on you.

You looked at each other for a moment, heart thudding a little too fast, when Voight exited his office, his voice interrupting that little moment of peace.

“Listen up, everybody,” he said, and you all snapped to attention. “I just got a call.”

There was a short pause, and you frowned when his eyes met you. That single look was enough to tell you something was wrong.

“The first hearing in Marcus Kane’s trial was supposed to be held in the next few days,” your boss spoke, and just hearing his name made your insides twist. “This morning they were taking him to court, but there was an accident, and he…” he sighed. “He managed to escape.”

In that precise moment, you felt your entire world fall apart.

Every step forward, every progress you had made, vanished like sand in the wind.

You felt all eyes on you, wary, as if they were waiting for you to collapse at any moment. You also felt his gaze, especially his gaze.

But you remained impassive, as if Voight was talking about any other case.

“How did it happen?” you asked, managing to keep your tone apathetic and flat.

You’re fine.

You’ll be fine.

Voight, like the rest of the team, observed you for a few moments. “Listen…”

“How did it happen?” you asked again, your hands folded in your lap, palms sweaty, fingers trembling.

You counted mentally. You had to stay calm, you were a cop, you had a job to do.

“A head-on collision, a car went the wrong way and collided with the vehicle carrying Kane.”

“How do we know it wasn’t planned?” Kevin asked.

“We know for sure it was. The driver has already been identified: Vincent Kane, his younger brother. The impact was too violent and he died instantly.”

You exhaled a breath but by now your brain had stopped cooperating, listening, thinking.

The words echoed, sharp and invasive, crawling under your skin. Images rushed in without warning, metal restraints, dark spaces, the sound of your own breathing too loud in your ears, the knife stabbing your skin.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral, your posture steady.

I’m okay. I’m here. I’m safe, you told yourself that over and over, like a mantra.

Someone asked another question. Voight answered. The conversation moved on. The world kept spinning like nothing had just shattered inside your chest.

But you could feel it now, that familiar pressure building, tight and suffocating. Your palms were sweaty, your heartbeat loud enough you were convinced everyone could hear it. The walls felt closer, the air thicker.

You stood up abruptly.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, already moving, not caring about your teammate’s voices calling your name.

You just walked, fast, too fast, toward the hallway, your breaths coming shallow and uneven. By the time you reached the bathroom, your vision was starting to blur, your chest burning with the effort of trying to breathe normally.

You barely made it into the bathroom before your back hit the wall and you slid down, knees folding against your chest.

No. No, not here. Not now.

Your hands shook as you pressed them to your face, trying to ground yourself, trying to remember the techniques your therapist had taught you. Five things you can see. Four you can touch. Three you can hear—

But your lungs refused to cooperate.

The panic hit fully then, brutal and overwhelming, a tidal wave you hadn’t seen coming. Your breaths turned into gasps, your body curling inward as if it could somehow make itself smaller.

“Are you okay?” Someone asked you.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Out. Now.” Jay’s voice reached your ears, your arms still wrapped around your legs, head resting on your knees. You didn’t even know who he was talking to.

Jay immediately sat down in front of you, after locking the bathroom. He didn’t dare touch you, knowing that would only make things worse. His insides twisted, in pain from what you were going through.

“Hey,” he whispered, unaware of whether you had heard him or not. You didn’t respond, just stayed there curled up, shaking like a leaf. “Hey, it’s okay, everything is going to be alright, I’m here with you.”

His chest tightened. God, how much he wanted to hold you and cradle you in his arms, protect you from all the things that were tormenting you, to wrap you in a little bubble so that nothing and no one could hurt you again.

But he couldn’t do it, not in that moment.

He knew panic attacks, trauma, well; he’d experienced them firsthand, and he knew more than anyone that pushing you would only make things worse.

He closed his hands into fists and remained in the same position, close enough for you to feel him but far enough away so you wouldn’t be scared.

“You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to face it alone,” he murmured, “he’s not here, he can’t hurt you. You’re here, you’re safe.”

Your breath hitched, uneven, and he leaned a fraction closer to you, careful not to crowd you. “Look at me,” he said gently, his hands hitching to caress you. “Just for a second, please.”

“Leave… Leave me alone, Jay,” you muttered.

“You know damn well I won’t do this, baby,” he answered, “Just look at me.”

You finally raised your head, and his heart sank as he saw your puffy, red eyes. But you weren’t looking at him, your gaze lost in space.

“Do you feel like giving me your hands?” He asked softly, holding out both his hands toward you. You stared at him for a moment before placing your trembling palms on his. Jay squeezed them, his thumbs caressing your skin.

“That’s it. Now look at me and breathe with me.”

You finally looked into his eyes, but you couldn’t speak. Another tear rolled down your cheek, and he squeezed your hands imperceptibly.

“I’m here with you, you’re not alone, okay?” He continued, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded.

“Then trust me when I say, I won’t let anything happen to you. As long as I breathe, that son of a bitch won’t touch a hair on your head.”

“Why does this keep happening to me?” You whispered, your voice broken, hoarse from crying.

Jay’s breath caught at your question, his heart breaking for you. He didn’t know how to respond, because there was no clean answer, no logical explanation for the tricks the brain sometimes played.

He didn’t rush to fill the silence.

Instead, he tightened his grip on your hands just enough to remind you he was still there. “Because trauma doesn’t work on a schedule,” he said quietly. “And it doesn’t care how strong you are.”

Your fingers trembled in his and Jay leaned towards you just a little more. “But this doesn’t mean you’re going backwards,” he continued, his voice steady even though his chest felt tight. “It doesn’t erase the work you’ve done. It just means your body remembers something your mind is still learning how to process.”

You shook your head weakly. “I should be better by now.”

“No,” he said immediately. Not sharp, but firm. “You don’t get to ‘should’ yourself through this. Give yourself some time and, above all, some credit.”

Your eyes flickered up to him at that, unfocused but searching.

“You survived something that shouldn’t have happened to you, what you went through was traumatic, he kidnapped and tortured you and now you’re facing this monster again,” Jay went on, softer now. “And your brain is doing exactly what it was wired to do, trying to keep you alive. Even when it gets it wrong.”

Another tear slipped free. He resisted the urge to wipe it away, staying still, letting you decide how close was safe.

“You’re not weak,” he added. “You’re not broken. Hell, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my entire life, you survived that traumatic shit, you got back on your feet and not everyone is capable of doing that.”

Your breathing slowly began to match his, still shaky but no longer spiraling. Jay watched it like it was the most important thing in the world.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good. Just like that. In and out.”

You swallowed. “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know baby, I know,” he whispered softly.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your breaths and the low hum of the building around you.

Then, cautiously, Jay moved one knee closer. “If it’s alright,” he said quietly, “I can stay right here as long as you need. Or I can get you out of here. Your call.”

And he meant it. Every word.

You hesitated, then nodded faintly. “Just… Stay.”

Something in his chest loosened. “I’ve got you,” he said, low and steady. “Take all the time you need. I’ll always be here.”

And he stayed exactly where he was, anchoring, present, unmovable, not as a hero, but as someone who cared too deeply to leave.

You sat there on that cold floor for an indefinite amount of time, him helping you take deep breaths, but not a word was said.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered suddenly, so quietly he almost imagined he’d heard them.

He frowned. “For what?”

“For all of this,” you sighed, your gaze fixed on your fingers still intertwined with his. “For being a burden…”

“Hey, hey, no. Stop,” he interrupted you immediately, his heart contracting painfully. “Don’t do that.”

Your eyes met his, uncertain, guilt-ridden.

“Don’t even finish that sentence. Don’t ever, ever, apologize, not to me, not to anyone else, okay? I never want to hear you say that again.”

You remained silent, your eyes still full of tears. God, he hated seeing you like this, he hated not being able to do anything to make you feel better.

“You’re not a burden, never have been, and never will be, do you hear me?”

“But…”

“No, no buts,” he squeezed your hands even tighter, firmly yet gently. “I choose to be here with you. There hasn’t been a single time I’ve felt forced, believe me. I just…” he sighed, pausing for a moment and trying to modulate his words before saying something he might regret, “there’s nowhere else and no other person I’d rather be with right now.”

You smiled, so faintly it almost went unnoticed.

“Can I?” He whispered, and you nodded, not even knowing what he wanted to do. He let go of one of your hands and placed his palm on your face, while his thumb dried your tears, first one cheek, then the other.

Jay couldn’t stop looking at you; despite your red eyes and your tears, you were still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

A warm feeling took over him as he noticed the way you leaned into his touch. “Can I hold you? Just for a little bit.” He then murmured, almost in a whisper.

“Please,” you responded immediately, without any hesitation.

He let out a small smile and moved next to you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

You leaned into him, your forehead pressing into his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater like it was the only real thing in the room.

Jay exhaled, long and quiet, his chin resting against the top of your head. “I've got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

He stayed like that, unmoving, breathing with you, letting the weight of you settle against him like it belonged there.

His free hand continued to absentmindedly caress your hair, your face as you sat there in the bathroom, the cold floor and the icy wall behind you.

There was a moment of silence, a silence filled, however, by Jay’s racing mind, by his breathing, trying to regulate it, as if he was afraid you’d escape if he breathed wrong.

He hugged you and held you in a way that made it seem like he needed it more than you, and maybe, in a way, he did.

He tried to focus on something else, on anything else unrelated, but he couldn’t, not when your scent was overwhelming his senses, not when the smell of your shampoo filled his nostrils, not when your arms were so tight around him, as if he was your lifeline.

He didn’t want to think too much because if he did, he’d lose the grip he’d fought so hard to maintain.

This, however, wasn’t new; he’d spent years doing it. Because he cared long before all this happened, long before the fear, the panic, the nights spent with you. And, to be precise, it wasn’t your fear or your panic, but his.

He was terrified to lose you, terrified anything might happen to you, terrified to even know you’re hurt. That’s why he was always there, not because he had to, but because he wanted it, he needed it.

He’d always had a strong sense of protection for you, right from the start, and it was obvious to everyone. Whatever happened, whether it was interrogating a suspect, going to shady places, he made sure you came first.

He’d wondered why, so many times, why he was like this with you, but he’d simply buried this question, telling himself it was just partnership, loyalty, friendship. He’d buried it under jokes, quips, his teasing until you went crazy.

It was easier that way. But ever since that night... Damn, Jay couldn’t find peace, he couldn’t forget the terror on your face when he opened his door, when he saw you soaked, hurt. The panic and fear he felt in that moment, God, were something that would scar him forever.

He wanted nothing more than to lock you in a glass bubble, so he’d always know you were safe, and it killed him knowing he couldn’t do that, knowing how much you were suffering and not being unable to protect you.

And now, with you in his arms, so vulnerable, Jay struggled. All of his careful compartments had collapsed into one unbearable truth: he’d been lying to himself.

He hugged you a little tighter, pulling you closer.

Jay swallowed hard.

If things had been different, if Kane had never happened, he would’ve kept pretending, kept the distance, kept the line clean and untouched, as he had always done in all the years since he’d known you.

And he hated that it took this, he hated that your pain had dragged the truth into the light.

Because loving you hadn’t started with Kane, no, he had just made it impossible to ignore.

He shifted slightly, as if this thought prevented him from staying still. He had to do something, he had to distract himself or he’d end up ruining everything, and you didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t right, not with what you were going through.

“If I could carry this for you,” he said, his voice low, controlled but thick with something he didn’t name, “I would. In a heartbeat.” He didn’t expect a response; to be honest, he wasn’t even asking for one.

“I know,” you whispered back, and your arms tightened. “I would do the same for you.”

Jay closed his eyes, his heart beating so hard it almost burst out of his chest. He wanted to scream, cry, break something because he was overwhelmed, overwhelmed by his feelings, by what you were doing to him.

Without even thinking about it, he lowered his head and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your forehead. It was gone almost as soon as it happened, that kind of touch that felt instinctive rather than intentional, but he had to do it, he needed it.

He froze for half a second after realizing his gesture. He held his breath, ready to pull back, to apologize, to pretend it hadn’t happened, but you didn’t pull away, instead, you wrapped your arms a little bit tighter around him.

So, he stayed.

And that scared him more than anything else.

“We should get back,” you said, after a while, breaking away from the embrace. Since when had your absence caused him such an emptiness? Since when not being able to hug you anymore disappointed him so much?

“How are you feeling now?”

“I can’t lie to you, I… I don’t feel good thinking about him being out there somewhere… But I’m better now.”

“We’ll get that son of a bitch, I promise.”

You smiled faintly. “I know.”

Jay stood up and offered you a hand to help you, which you immediately grabbed.

He unlocked the door, and you were about to leave when you grabbed his hand this time.

He looked at you with a confused look on his face, which quickly turned to utter shock when you leaned toward him and pressed your lips on his cheek.

More than astonishment, he almost had a heart attack, and he wasn’t even exaggerating.

“Thank you, Jay… For everything. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He didn’t breathe, didn’t move, he stared at you blankly for a few moments before realizing he had to speak. “A-anytime,” he stuttered, fucking stuttered.

You nodded once and, after opening the door, went back toward the bullpen.

And Jay stayed where he was for a moment longer than necessary, staring at the door pretending like you didn’t just shift the entire axis of his world.

It wasn’t even a kiss, more like a light touch. Your lips barely brushed his cheek, too fast for even his brain to register, but it was enough to set his skin on fire, it was enough to destroy that entire wall that so hard he had put up to.

His chest tightened painfully, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar since he met you.

He could still feel the ghost of it, the warmth, the softness, right there, just under his cheekbone, like his skin had already memorized it.

Jay swallowed hard.

Don’t read into it, he told himself immediately.

Don’ turn this into something it’s not.

She’s fragile. She’s grateful. That’s all.

His heart was hammering now, loud and reckless, and there was a sharp, familiar ache behind his ribs, something he was terrified to name.

He forced himself to stay still, to keep his expression neutral, even if every instinct screamed to reach for you, to pull you back, to hold you so tightly to him, to kiss you until he stole your last breath.

Instead, he grounded himself the only way he knew.

Control.

But God, if he hadn’t already been in too deep, that little kiss would’ve pushed him there.

When you returned to the bullpen, the rest of the team was there discussing the case, Kane. As soon as they saw you—Jay just few steps behind you—they stopped talking and watched you for a moment.

“Everything alright?” Voight asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, I’m sorry, everything’s fine.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jay approach the whiteboard, positioning himself next to it, his eyes only on you.

“I know this isn’t easy for you, kid,” Voight continued, sighing, and you immediately understood where he was going with this. He knew the whole Kane thing; besides Jay, he was the only person on the team who knew. “But you can understand that you can’t work on this case since you’re personally involved.”

You exchanged a fleeting glance with Jay, as if asking for help, but no help came. Rationally, you understood, you would’ve said the same thing if you were Voight, but on the other hand, you hated being sidelined.

“I can help, boss. It’s clear that whatever he’s up to is against me and…”

“Absolutely not,” Jay intervened, his tone so resolute and authoritative that even you froze, “we won’t use you as bait, forget it. We’ll come up with a plan to find him.”

“He’s right,” Adam continued, “it’s too dangerous, we can’t give him what he wants on a silver platter.”

“Go home,” Voight resumed, “you’ll have protection 24/7, and we’ll keep you updated on anything. Try to get some rest.”

You sighed, resigned, knowing you’d never win this battle. You nodded and, without another word, grabbed your bag.

“I’ll walk you out,” Jay had said, but you didn’t respond, simply walking toward the exit.

The walk to your car was silent, that heavy silence you weren’t used to anymore, especially with Jay.

“I know you don’t like the idea of being off the case,” he spoke first when you reached your car, “and you know how much I hate to say it, but Voight is right.”

“I know he’s right, but it pisses me off anyway.”

“I hate that you have to stay home alone, I wish you’d stay here so I could always know you’re safe…”

“…But I’m not focused enough to stay here, yes, I know, I get it,” you finished the sentence for him.

“Hey,” he pressed again, stepping fully into your space, careful but firm, forcing you to stop. “Look at me.”

You hesitated for a second, jaw tight, then finally lifted your eyes to his.

“I know you’re mad,” Jay said quietly. “And I know it feels like we’re taking something away from you. But this…” he gestured vaguely back toward the building, “It’s about keeping you safe, that’s our number one priority.”

You scoffed softly, shaking your head. “You say it like I’m made of glass.”

“No,” he replied immediately. “I say it like you’ve already been through enough.”

That stopped you, his words landing better than you expected. Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, your stomach twisting in pain. “You think I don’t know that?” you asked, voice lower now. “But I feel useless… I’ll just be sitting home while you’re all out there hunting him down… I…”

Jay exhaled slowly, like he was choosing his next words. “You’re not useless,” he spoke. “But Kane is unpredictable, and if there’s even the smallest chance he’d come after you—”

“He already did,” you interrupted, sharp. “And I survived.”

Jay’s jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” he said, low. “And I’m not letting him get another chance.”

The finality in his tone sent a chill through you.

You studied his face for a moment, the tightness around his eyes, the way his shoulders were held too rigid, the way he never for a second stopped looking at you.

“Jay…” you started, then stopped, unsure of what you were even trying to say.

“I need you to promise me something,” he said.

You frowned. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Humor me,” he replied, almost gently. “If anything feels off, anything, you call me. Doesn’t matter the time or what I’m doing. You call me and I’ll be there.”

“I will.”

“No, you won’t, not when I’m working on this case, so please promise me.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

Something in him eased, just a fraction, but it wasn’t enough, it was like he wasn’t believing you.

You reached for your car door, then paused. Your hand hovered there for a second before dropping back to your side.

“Jay,” you said again, softer now. “Thank you again. For earlier. For… Everything.”

He looked at you like he wanted to say a thousand things and didn't trust himself with any of them. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied.

“I know,” you said. And then, almost without thinking, you reached for his hand, for the second time that day, with an ease that scared you to death.

Just briefly. Just enough for your fingers to curl around his, warm and grounding.

His breath caught, barely audible.

“Please be careful,” you added quietly. You were about to let go of his hand when his fingers grabbed yours again, squeezing them tighter than you did.

“I will,” he answered, “you too, and if you don’t want to call just text me, please, I can’t focus if I don’t know you’re okay.”

These words managed to further open the chasm that you carried around for too long.

“I will, I promise,” and this time, you truly meant it.

You let go of his hand and you were about to open your car door, when he preceded you and do it for you. You smiled and slid inside before he closed it.

As you drove away, you didn’t look back.

You didn’t see the way Jay stayed there long after you were gone, his chest tight with a feeling he couldn’t shake, his hand still hot from your touch.

You didn’t know that sending you home hadn’t made him feel better at all; instead, it had only made him scared he was running out of time.

Your apartment was too quiet, too calm, and for some strange reason, you hated it.

Your mind was in complete turmoil, you couldn’t think clearly, you couldn’t concentrate on one thing before the thought ended up on something else.

You carelessly dropped your bag on the ground, taking a deep breath trying to regain your composure. You tried to focus on the background noises, the distant noise of passing cars, the soft hum of the refrigerator, your own breathing which was louder than anything else.

You told yourself you were fine.

You weren’t spiraling. You weren’t panicking. You were just… Tired.

After kicking off your shoes, you moved through the apartment on autopilot, locking the door, checking the windows. Once. Then twice even if the police officers outside your door already did it.

It annoyed you how natural it had become.

You sank onto the couch and pressed your palms into your eyes, breathing out slowly. Your therapist’s voice echoed faintly in your head—Name what you’re feeling. Don’t run from it.

Fear.

Anger.

Frustration.

And something else you didn’t want to unpack.

Jay’s face kept intruding in your thoughts. The way he looked at you in the parking lot, the way his hand felt, solid, steady, like something you could anchor yourself to, the way he hugged you in that cold bathroom when you were falling apart.

Your chest tightened again, breath catching just slightly.

Not again.

You focused, counted your breaths until the pressure eased, focused on the things surrounding you.

You went to your bedroom and pulled a box you kept under the bed that contained several files, all the documents that related to Kane’s case, that box you managed not to open it in weeks.

You stared at it for a long moment, heart thudding.

You returned to the living room, setting the box on the coffee table, fingers trembling only a little as you lifted the lid.

Reports. Photos. Timelines. Notes you’d written years ago when you first worked on his case, in a handwriting that didn’t quite look like yours anymore.

You flipped through them slowly and the phone buzzed on the table. You froze, and for half a second, terror took hold of you, irrational and sharp, before you forced yourself to look.

A message.

From Jay:

You home?

Your breath left you all at once, fear replaced by relief.

To Jay:

Yeah, I’m okay. Just working through some stuff.

Three dots appeared, disappeared and then appeared again.

From Jay:

Don’t push yourself.

To Jay:

I won’t. How are things going over there?

From Jay:

We’re working on it, I’ll let you know if we find anything.

You knew full well this would never happen, and you didn’t know how to feel about it, whether relieved or irritated.

To Jay:

Okay. Be careful.

You set the phone face down and decided to take a quick shower before going back to the files, the papers spread out like a chaotic map of Kane’s crimes.

Every detail, every report, every photo you’d stored a hundred times before, was there in front of you. You weren’t supposed to be working on this case, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t just let it go.

Your fingers traced over his old movements, his connections, the patterns of his violence. It should’ve been easier, after all these years, but your stomach twisted every time you read his name. The memories you’d tried so hard to lock away poked at the edges of your mind… The panic, the terror, the knife.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to stay focused.

Five things you can see… Four you can touch… Three you can hear…

The hours passed in tense quiet, the sun dipped lower outside, shadows creeping across the floor, and still, you worked, because if you didn’t, the panic would’ve left you no escape.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered where Jay was, what was he doing? Did he find something? Was he thinking about you?

He was indeed thinking about you; in fact, you were the only thought that crossed his mind.

That, and finding that son of a bitch, that’s why he was outside a motel, breathing fast and his hand on his gun.

It was now almost 1:00 a.m. Voight had forced everyone to take a break, but Jay refused, continuing to work alone on any clues. He had found a lead, a guy who had reported that a man—who Jay had then immediately identified as Marcus Kane’s brother—had paid cash for a fake passport.

Kane’s face was all over the news and when Jay answered a call from an anonymous caller who was sure they’d seen the fugitive heading to a motel, he couldn’t help but investigate.

The motel looked like it hadn’t seen maintenance since the late nineties. One flickering neon sign buzzed weakly above the entrance, half the letters burned out, the word 'MOTEL' reduced to a 'M—EL'. Paint peeled from the railings, cigarettes littered the ground, and the smell of damp concrete and old smoke hung heavy in the air.

Exactly the kind of place someone like Kane would choose to hide.

Jay stayed in his car for a moment longer, engine off, headlights dark. He scanned the second floor, eyes narrowing when he spotted a faint light bleeding through the curtains of one room at the far end. Room 217.

His jaw clenched.

He should’ve waited, should’ve called for backup, he knew he had to let Voight know he had a possible location. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be there alone, that it could’ve been all a setup.

But he wasn’t thinking rationally, all he could see was you, curled up on yourself, shaking, crying, fighting for air. All he could hear was your broken voice asking why.

He didn’t have time, Marcus could escape while waiting for reinforcements and it was an option that Jay would’ve never given up on.

He stepped out of the car quietly, gun drawn, keeping close to the shadows as he crossed the lot. His heart hammered against his ribs, every muscle taut, every sense sharpened. Years of training guided his movements, but beneath it all there was only anger.

There was no one around anymore, just him—-to be honest he didn’t even know if there was a living soul in that place—so he moved as quiet as possible as he took the stairs, slowly, stopping just before the second floor.

He listened.

Muffled footsteps.

Jay’s grip tightened on the gun.

He moved down the walkway, back to the wall, breathing slow and controlled. As he passed each door, his thoughts kept betraying him, slipping back to you.

He already knew you’d kick his ass for ignoring your messages, but he couldn’t tell you where he was, not without putting you in danger. He knew that at the slightest opportunity, Marcus wouldn’t miss a chance to kill you.

And it was a thought Jay didn’t even subconsciously want to formulate.

He stopped in front of the door.

The cheap wood was scuffed, the lock old. No sound now from inside. Maybe Kane was asleep. Maybe he was waiting.

Jay raised his hand, hesitating for just a fraction of a second.

He tried the handle and, to his surprise, it was unlocked. He didn’t give it much thought, the adrenaline coursing through his veins just at the thought of catching that bastard.

But if he’d been concentrated enough, controlled enough, he would’ve known it was too easy to find Kane, that something was undoubtedly wrong.

Every instinct screamed at him, but he pushed the door open anyway, gun leading the way. The room was dim, lit only by the bathroom light left on. Clothes were scattered on the bed, a half-packed duffel bag on the floor.

“Chicago PD,” Jay called out, voice low but firm. “Marcus Kane. It’s over.”

For a split second, there was only silence.

Then out of the corner of his eye, Jay saw movement, fast, too fast.

He barely had time to react before something—or rather, someone—slammed into him from the side, knocking him hard against the dresser. His gun clattered to the floor, skidding under the bed.

Kane had been waiting.

And Jay realized, too late, that this was no longer an arrest, that he was going to fight for his life.

Kane immediately threw himself on him, without even giving Jay time to get up to his feet and react. A fist hit him full in the face, hot and harp, sending him crashing against the wall. For a moment, he was short of breath, but it wasn’t the time to think; he just had to act.

“Not exactly who I was expecting to be honest, but I guess it’ll do,” Kane sneered, his face twisting into something sinister.

Jay froze for half a second, and then it hit him. Why was it so easy to track him down, why was he was found so quickly. He was waiting for YOU.

“She’s always been a stubborn woman, I figured—”

But Jay didn’t let him finish his sentence; he threw himself on Kane, grabbing him by the collar of his filthy, crumpled shirt. He punched him square in the face, then another, before pressing his forearm against Kane’s throat, nearly cutting off his airway.

The latter wheezed, but that wasn’t enough to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

“Talk about her again and I’ll make you suffer like you never did,” Jay spat a millimeter from his face.

“I knew she’d come eventually. Couldn’t help herself. Always trying to be brave.”

Something inside Jay snatched.

He punched Kane once, twice, again, knuckles splitting, blood slicking his fingers, though he was totally oblivious to the pain. Kane collapsed to the floor with a grunt, coughing hard, but still laughing.

“You think sending her home kept her safe?” Kane taunted between gasps. He spat on the ground, a mix of blood and saliva, then wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. “I left traces…” he breathed heavily, “I wanted her to find me… I wanted to see the look on her face when she realized I wasn’t done with her yet.”

Jay tackled him.

They hit the floor hard, the motel bed creaking under the impact. He straddled Kane, fists raining down, every blow driven by a single, horrifying image of you walking in here, alone, what Kane was going to do to you.

“Son of a bitch!” he screamed in his face, “you’ll fucking pay for everything you put her through!”

Kane twisted beneath him, suddenly desperate, hand flashing between them.

Jay didn’t see Kane grabbing the knife from his pants pocket, not until it was already sinking into his flash.

Pain exploded through him, blinding and white-hot.

He gasped, hands faltering just long enough for Kane to shove him off. Jay stumbled back, one hand instinctively pressing to his abdomen, coming away soaked in blood.

Kane dragged himself upright, swaying, smiling through bloodied teeth.

“Guess I still win,” he said. “Either way… She loses. Man, I can't wait to see her face when she finds you.”

Jay completely lost his mind, like he never did before.

He lunged again, ignoring the agony tearing through his body, thanks to the adrenaline that flowed in rivers through his veins, slamming Kane into the wall, then the floor.

The knife clattered away somewhere out of reach.

Jay didn’t stop, he couldn’t.

Every punch was fueled by terror, by guilt, by the unbearable thought that it could’ve been you.

He had lost count of the punches he’d landed, ignoring the pain each blow inflicted, the blood seeping from his wound, ignoring the sound of Kane’s skull being smashed against the dirt floor of that motel.

Jay ignored everything until Kane stopped struggling.

He froze, chest heaving, staring down at him, eyes open but now lifeless, his body still.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

I just killed Marcus Kane.

Jay staggered back, vision blurring, blood soaking through his shirt and dripping onto the carpet. He braced himself against the wall, breathing shallow and uneven, his forehead covered in sweat.

She was supposed to come here.

He slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood behind him, shaking now, not from the pain, but from the horror of how close you’d come.

He reached for his phone from his pocket when—with horror—he realized he’d left it in the car.

He was tired, exhausted, he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but he had to call for help, or he’d bleed to death there, on that filthy floor, alone.

God, he wanted you, he wanted you there, so bad he couldn’t breathe.

The strength continued to slowly leave his body, but despite this, he didn’t give up. He tried to stand up, leaning against the wall.

He kept pressing on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but his grip was too weak, almost useless. He managed to take a few steps before collapsing again.

This time, however, he couldn’t get up

But suddenly—after an infinite amount of time—he heard footsteps coming from outside the room, and for a moment he thought he was hallucinating.

He wasn’t used to praying, but in that moment, he did, he prayed to see you. He winced again in pain as he tried to get up again, but to no avail.

“Jay?”.

A voice reached his ears from afar, but he smiled despite this because he would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, even among a million people. He wanted to scream so badly, to tell you he was there, but he couldn’t, only faint whispers escaped his lips.

Staying awake was becoming increasingly hard, every breath felt like another stab, but he fought to keep his eyes open, because if he was to die that night, you were the last person he wanted to see.

You didn’t receive any answer but, on the other hand, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to hear it yourself since the loud pounding of your heart was deafening you.

You continued walking down the silent corridor with your gun pointed forward, terrified of what lay ahead.

But something immediately caught your attention. The hallway was dark, except for one room, whose light illuminated a small section.

You quickly approached it, and when you entered the room, your worst nightmare, your greatest fear, just became real.

Jay was lying on the floor, covered in blood, barely conscious.

You immediately put the gun back in its holster before grabbing your cell phone and dropping to your knees beside him.

“Hey, hey, hey, Jay, stay with me please. I’m calling for help,” you spoke before quickly calling for backup and an ambulance.

Your cell phone landed on the floor, your hands on his face as you slightly shook him. “Please stay awake for me, okay? Don’t fall asleep, the ambulance is on the way, please, Jay…”

He muttered something you couldn’t understand, and your heart broke when you saw that small smile on his lips, as if he’d just realized you were really there.

“It’s going to hurt a little, but I have to do it, okay? I have to stop the bleeding,” you quickly took off your jacket and pressed it firmly against his wound, your insides twisting as you saw his beautiful face contorted in pain.

Your vision was blurred by the tears you hadn’t realized were pouring like a raging river. “I know, I know…” you sniffed. “I’m so sorry, God, I’m so sorry…”

“H-hey…” he murmured.

You smiled at him, through your tears. “Hey baby, I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay… I’m not leaving you…” With one hand, you stroked his face and hair, while the other continued to hold the now bloody jacket firmly over his wound.

“You… You’re h-here…” he continued to breathe heavily, as if every word he said was torture.

“Shh, it’s okay… it’s okay… Yeah, I’m here… Please stay with me, okay? Don’t leave me, Jay, I’m beginning you…” you literally sobbed, feeling your heart being ripped out with every second that passed.

“Help!” you screamed, the sound ripping out of your chest, raw and unfiltered. “HELP—PLEASE, SOMEBODY!”

Nothing.

The silence was underpinned only by your sobs and Jay’s heavy breathing.

Your voice echoed down the empty motel walkway, bouncing off cracked concrete and empty rooms. No doors opened. No one came.

“Help us!” you cried again, hysterical, your throat already burning. “Please—he’s bleeding… Someone help me!”

“No… No, no, no…” you blurted out, shaking your head as if refusing to accept it could somehow change the outcome. You pressed both hands harder against his wound, desperate, ignoring the way his blood soaked your palms, your skin. “Stay with me, Jay. Stay with me, please—please…”

Your hands slipped. You couldn’t stop the bleeding. You couldn’t fix this. Panic clawed up your throat, sharp and uncontrollable.

“I can’t do this without you,” you choked. “You don’t get to leave me here alone, you hear me? You promised me.”

His face was so pale, sweat slicking his skin, but his eyes, God, his beautiful eyes, were still on you, or at least, he tried.

“I… I didn’t… I… Want you t-to see this,” he whispered, a faint, crooked ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t care,” you cried, shaking your head as tears spilled freely, falling onto his chest. “I don’t care about that. I just need you alive. I need you to stay with me, please Jay, don’t do this to me.”

He closed his eyes and the fear and panic no longer made you think.

“No, no, no, please… Hey, open your eyes, you hear me? Eyes on me baby, please stay awake.”

Your chest hurt, your lungs burned like a forest on fire. You couldn’t get enough air, like the panic was trying to drag you under again, only this time it was worse because it wasn’t just your fear anymore.

It was about him.

He shifted weakly beneath you, a pained sound slipping past his lips, his eyelids struggling to stay open. He was struggling, so damn much and you couldn’t do anything to help him.

“I can’t lose you,” you cried, the words spilling out without permission, without thought. “I can’t… I won’t survive.”

You leaned closer, forehead pressed to his, tears dripping down your cheeks, onto his skin, onto the blood you were desperately trying to stop.

“I love you,” you sobbed, the words ripped straight from your chest, so messy and broken. “I love you so much Jay… Please, I need you to stay. Please. Please stay with me.”

The moment the words left your mouth, it felt like the world stopped.

You hadn’t planned to say it, not like that, but it was true, and it had been true long before this moment.

His breath stuttered. His fingers twitched weakly against your sleeve, as if anchoring himself to you was the only thing keeping him here, his eyes searching your face.

“I wanted to… To… Protect you…” he coughed. “He… He won’t hurt you again…” he whispered again, voice rough, strained. It was only then that you noticed that body in the room, that now lifeless body, belonging to the person who had ruined you the most.

But you didn’t care. You felt nothing about it. You just wanted to save Jay.

“I l—…” he continued but the words died in his throat, his eyes fluttered.

“Jay? Jay!” Panic ripped through you again. “Jay… Oh my god… No, no, no, please… Open your eyes, stay with me.”

But his grip loosened, his head rolled slightly to the side.

“Jay!” you screamed, terror tearing straight through your chest. You pressed harder against the wound, sobbing uncontrollably. “Please… Please wake up… Talk to me…Please I need you.”

You screamed for help again, voice hoarse, desperate, echoing uselessly through the empty motel hallway.

Sirens cut through the night like a lifeline and you were never so relieved to hear that sound.

You barely registered the sound at first, too busy counting his breaths, begging him under your breath not to leave you, but then the flashing red and blue lights painted the motel walls, and you subbed in relief so hard it hurt.

“They’re here,” you whispered frantically, brushing damp hair off his forehead. “Jay, baby, they’re here. You hear me? You’re gonna be okay.”

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallways and suddenly the room was full, paramedics, lights, movement, orders being barked back and forth.

They stabilized him, then lifted him onto the stretcher, and you followed their every move, refusing to leave him alone for even a moment.

“Jay, please, stay with me,” you whispered, your eyes always on him, almost the entire way to the hospital. You wanted to grab his hand so badly, hoping he could hear you, know you were by his side and you’d never leave him. “Don’t leave me…”

“He’ll be okay, right? Will he make it?” You asked louder, not taking your eyes off his unconscious body, terrified of the answer.

“He’ll need a transfusion and surgery right away,” the paramedic replied, without actually giving you an answer, and for some other reason, this hurt even more. “Do you happen to know his blood type, ma’am?”

“A positive,” you replied, without even thinking.

This thought made you freeze for a moment. Damn, you even knew his blood type, how could you deny that you didn’t love him all this time?

His chest rose shallowly beneath the oxygen mask, each breath uneven. The monitor beside him beeped steadily, maybe too fast, his blood pressure too low.

“I love you,” you whispered again. “Don’t leave me please.”

That ambulance ride was the longest of your life, and even though it was traveling above the legal limit, it still felt like it was going too slow for you.

When the ambulance slowed suddenly, then finally stopped, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’re here.”

The doors flew open and cold night air rushed in. Hands moved everywhere at once, lifting him, pulling, and suddenly he was rolling away from you.

“No, no” you said immediately, panic exploding again in your chest. You stumbled after them as they rushed him through the ER doors. “I’m here, I’m with him… I need to be with him…”

“Miss, you need to stay back,” someone said, firm but not unkind. “Let us do our job.”

You reached for him anyway, fingers brushing his hand just before they pulled the stretcher farther ahead.

They pushed through the doors to the trauma bay and they slammed shut in your face.

And you lost it.

You sobbed, chest heaving as the weight of it all crashed down on you at once.

You looked at your hands, the blood on your hands, on your clothes—damn, it felt unreal, like none of this could possibly be happening. How could this be reality? How had you gone, in the space of a single day, from hugging each other to praying with every fiber of your being that he would survive?

You slid down the wall slowly, knees hitting the floor as another sob tore out of you.

You really couldn’t believe this was really happening. You couldn’t conceive the thought that you might actually never see him again, you couldn’t accept that the one time in your life you’d had the courage to tell him you loved him was because he was hurt.

What if it was the last time you spoke to him?

What if it was the last time you held his hand?

What if it was the last time you hugged him?

You shook your head as if trying to push that thought away. Jay wouldn’t give up, he was strong, he could handle this too.

The noise around you only made you more unsettled, too many footsteps, too many people talking, too many bells and monitors ringing, too much light—God, you couldn’t take it anymore.

The mere thought of him being there, only a few steps away from you, that only a door separated you, but you couldn’t be there for him devastated you.

“Miss.”

A voice in the distance called you.

“Miss.”

They insisted.

It was only when you felt a hand on your shoulder that you jumped, finding a nurse staring at you with a worried look.

“How is he? Is he okay? Is he awake?” You asked immediately, snapping to attention.

“They’re about to take him to surgery,” she replied, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

It was clear she was referring to the blood on you. The blood of the person you loved.

You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek.

“Do you want to call someone?” She continued, looking at you with eyes full of pity and sadness, before handing you a handkerchief, which you immediately accepted.

“Um… No… I…” you sniffed, reaching for your cell phone. Only when you felt your pockets being empty you remembered throwing it on the floor in that damned motel. “Actually, yes, I… I forgot my phone. Thank you.”

She smiled kindly. “I’ll be right back, but first, let’s get on the chair here, okay?”

You nodded and stood up, then immediately sat down on one of the various chairs in the emergency room hallway.

“Can I get you something else?”

You shook your head.

“Okay, I’ll be right back with a phone.”

You called Voight, trying to explain the situation as best you could, trying to be as clear-headed as possible, even though you probably sounded like a robot. He said he’d be right there with the others, and you responded only with a feeble “okay” after telling him which hospital you were in.

You thanked the nurse before handing her back the phone, accepting the bottle of water she had, despite everything, brought you.

A lump rose in your throat, suffocating.

You couldn’t even cry anymore.

You wanted to scream, break something, run into the OR just to catch a glimpse of him. Instead, you remained there, helpless, broken, your heart beating too hard and too slow at the same time.

Time lost meaning.

You didn’t know how long you sat there staring into space, maybe minutes, maybe hours, before you felt a presence beside you.

You looked up with difficulty.

Voight.

He didn’t say anything at first, he just stood there, eyes scanning your face, the blood on your clothes, the way your hands trembled faintly in your lap. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

For a moment, you wondered if he was waiting for you to speak. You tried, but you couldn’t. You just stared at him as if you said the words out loud, they’d become real.

“He’s in surgery,” you finally whispered, voice hoarse, barely more than air. “They took him in a few minutes ago.”

Voight nodded once, slow before sitting down next to you. “I know.”

Your chest caved in.

“I was supposed to stay home,” you said suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I know you told me to stay home and I tried, I swear I tried but I just…” Your breath hitched. "I had this feeling. Like something was wrong..."

You broke off, shaking your head. “If I’d gotten there sooner,” you murmured. “If I—”

Voight interrupted you. “Listen to me kid,” he said quietly, but firmly enough that you had no choice but to look at him. “None of this is your fault.”

Your eyes burned. “He went alone.”

“He went alone because he wanted to protect you,” Voight replied. “Because that’s who he is, the only thing he cares about is you.”

That didn’t make it hurt any less.

You pressed your lips together, fighting the sob that threatened to tear you open again. “He was bleeding so much,” you whispered. “He tried to stand t-to talk. I thought…” Your voice cracked. “I thought I was going to lose him right there.”

Voight’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “But you didn’t and you won’t.” He rested his forearms on his knees, mirroring your posture. “The doctors are good. This hospital’s one of the best. If anyone can pull him back from the edge, it’s them.”

You nodded weakly, though hope felt like something dangerous now.

“The rest of the team are on their way,” he added. “You’re not doing this alone, he won’t be alone.”

You swallowed hard. “I told him I love him,” you said suddenly, the confession tumbling out. “I don’t know if he heard me. I don’t know if…”

Your throat closed but Voight didn’t look surprised, instead, he nodded again, slower this time. “He heard you,” he said simply. “Even if he couldn’t answer. He knows.”

That almost broke you completely.

You buried your face in your hands as silent tears slipped through your fingers.

Minutes and minutes passed and the rest of the team arrived, though you weren’t in the right mind to talk to any of them.

Hours and hours passed.

Hours in which you had done nothing but torment yourself and pray from him. You cleaned your face and your hands, though your clothes still bore the weight of that horrible night.

Then footsteps approached.

A doctor emerged from the double doors, mask pulled down around her neck, eyes searching the hallway. Your head snapped up instantly, heart slamming against your ribs.

The doctor’s gaze landed on all of you as you approached. “Are you family?”

“Yes,” you answered, and even if it wasn’t true, the doctor immediately knew from your gaze you’d never let go.

The doctor nodded once. “He’s still in surgery,” she said. “It was a severe abdominal wound. He lost a lot of blood and we had to transfuse two bags of blood.”

Your stomach dropped and you stopped breathing for a second.

“But,” she continued, carefully, “he made it through the first critical phase. The next few hours will be fundamental.”

You exhaled shakily, legs threatening to give out beneath you.

“He’s alive,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.

“For now,” the doctor said gently. “But he’s fighting.”

And that’s exactly what he did. He was truly fighting.

For the next two hours, you kept pacing back and forth in that waiting room. The rest of the team was there, but no one spoke. The anxiety was too much, the worry overwhelming.

When the surgeon finally announced that the surgery was over and he’d be taken to intensive care, you literally felt the ground disappear beneath your feet.

You hated hospitals, you hated the smell that hung in the air, you hated the sound of that monitor, you hated knowing that there were people fighting for their lives, you hated knowing that your Jay was there.

You found yourself outside his room, your body shaking, your heart pounding.

You couldn’t find the courage to go in, to see him like that. This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You took a deep breath before taking a step, then another. When your eyes landed on Jay, it was like the air had been knocked from your lungs. God, a punch would’ve hurt less.

He was lying on that bed, his eyes closed as if he was simply sleeping, his oxygen on, the monitor echoing with his steady heartbeat. His chest was rising and falling, slowly, too delicately.

You approached his bed, your breath involuntarily held, walking so slowly as if you were afraid of waking him. Your fingers hovered for a few seconds over his hand, barely touching it, before you took it, and, God, what a relief it was to feel his warm skin against yours.

His angelic face was relaxed, but it was surrounded by the purple bruise that marked his fight with Kane.

He’s dead, he can’t hurt anyone anymore.

With your free hand, you slowly caressed his cheek, delicately, scared at the thought of hurting him. Your fingers brushed his hair, hoping somehow, he could feel it.

You leaned in slightly and gently pressed your lips on his forehead, leaving a small, sweet kiss, just like he had done in that bathroom not so many hours before.

“I’m here, I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, “You’ll be fine, everything will be fine.”

You sat next to him, on a chair in the room, and grabbed his hand, kissing it, holding it close to your face.

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to behave and not being able to do anything to help him was destroying you, making you feel more useless than ever before.

You had heard somewhere that talking could help patients, they could hear you even if they were unconscious, and that’s what you did.

“I’m so sorry, Jay,” you began. “It’s all my fault, this…” you sighed, trying to hold back the tears but failing miserably, “This shouldn’t have happened, not to you… I—”

You paused for a second, trying to reconnect your thoughts.

“I really don’t know where to start, I want to tell you so many things…” you kissed his hand again, “First I want to say thank you, I know I’ve already said this, but thank you, truly, for everything you’ve done for me, for being there for me in the worst moments, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Your voice broke at the last words, your hand slightly squeezing his, trying to hold on to him because, if you hadn’t, you would’ve collapsed.

“It’s always been you,” you continued, “always, even when I pretended it wasn’t, even when I tried to convince myself it was just friendship and partnership… All these years, God… I’ve been so stupid, such a coward…” you took a deep breath “I’m so sorry, Jay, you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to hear me say I love you in THAT moment, not in that way, but I just…” a tear rolled down your face, “I love you so much…”

“I tried to convince myself it was just the trauma, but it was a lie because every time I look at you, I know what I feel goes way beyond that, it’s something so deep I can’t even explain it,” you shook your head slightly, “up until now, I’ve lied to myself and preferred living the lie rather than facing the fear of ruining everything, but now… Now I don’t want to hide anymore, I love you so much it terrifies me, I don’t know what to do.”

Your thumb caressed his bruised knuckles, and it was another stab in the stomach.

“I should’ve told you before, I know,” you continued, “I should’ve told you when we were bickering over coffee, when you teased me about my tea collection, when you pulled all those pranks on me, when you smile at me, when you laugh until you lose your breath…” you stopped speaking when another uncontrollable sob escaped your lips.

“But I need you to wake up, baby, please, I need you so much. You always said I was strong, that I had armor, but the truth is, I was because of you, because you were always there beside me no matter what happened, you always helped me get up without saying anything and you always did it without making me feel like a burden and now…” you sniffed, your vision now blurry from the tears, “Now look at you… You’re here because of me…”

You slightly leaned forward, your cheek hovering close to his hand while still keeping your gaze on him.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive myself, how I’ll ever live with the fact that you got hurt because of me. You always protected me, and when I should’ve protected you, I failed, and I’m so sorry, baby, I hope you’ll forgive me…”

There was another moment of silence.

“Please come back to me… I can’t live without you, Jay, I don’t know how to be in this world without you… Without you making my life impossible, without you forcing me to watch those stupid action movies only you like, without you making me feel so safe with just a hug. I can’t imagine going to work and not finding you sitting at your desk, with a pre-made donut you saved just for me even though you always say it’s not, without you making fun of my handwriting…” You chuckled bitterly as your mind replayed all those moments, moments you would’ve sold your soul to relive. “So, wake up, Halstead, you understand me? You need to wake up.”

You remained silent for an indefinite time, sitting there next to him for all the hours that followed, even after the sun had risen, even when the others tried to convince you to go and rest, but you refused to move.

The hours passed, sometimes you continued talking to him, other times you simply looked at him, in silence, your hand always in his while your thumb drew imaginary circles on his skin.

At some point, your voice gave out completely.

Your head dropped forward, resting against the edge of the bed, forehead brushing his knuckles. You didn’t even remember falling asleep, you didn’t mean to, you just remembered that exhaustion took over at a certain point, quietly, while your fingers were still intertwined with his.

Pain.

This was what Jay felt when his eyelids opened slightly. He blinked once, twice, three times, trying to adjust to the blinding light in that room.

The events of the previous evening flooded his mind like a raging river, so it didn’t take him long to realize he was in a hospital bed.

He tried to move but couldn’t, not even when he tried to convince his body to do it.

He felt heavy, all his muscles ached, his throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper was rubbing against him.

He tried to lift his hand but couldn’t, and it was only when he looked down at the figure next to him that he understood why he couldn’t.

His heart sank when he saw you curled up in the chair, head resting on his hand, fingers intertwined, eyes closed.

Fuck.

He closed his eyes again and opened them again, before looking back at you, and to his great relief, you were still there.

He wasn’t hallucinating, he wasn’t dreaming, you were really there, next to him.

His fingers twitched weakly against yours, and this simple movement was enough to wake you. Your head snapped up, and he wanted to take a picture of your face again when your eyes met his.

“Oh my god… Oh god! Jay you… Oh god you’re awake!”

“Hey,” he smiled weakly when you jumped to your feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. You carefully grabbed his face, looking at him as if wanting to make sure it was really real.

“You’re awake… Oh fuck… How do you feel? God, you’re really awake.”

He chuckled, every muscle in his body aching. He raised a hand and placed it on yours, caressing it. “I’m fine, a little tired, but I’m fine now.”

And it was true. Even though everything hurt, even though he could barely keep his eyes open, even though even breathing felt like a stab, he truly was fine. Because you were there.

“I thought I lost you… I thought—” you whispered, but you stopped when he grabbed your hand, removing it from his cheek and bringing it to his lips before pressing a kiss.

“It takes more than that to finish me off, baby, you’ll never get rid of me.”

You chuckled through your tears. “Don’t ever do this shit to me ever again, you understand me?”

“Oh yes, ma’am, I’m not planning to get stabbed again, that’s enough,” he replied, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Can you hug me now?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. You won’t hurt me,” he whispered, “I need it, I need to hold you.”

You hesitated for a moment, and it was the cutest and, at the same time, the most painful thing he’d ever seen. He understood your hesitation, but he didn’t want to see it, he never wanted to see you hesitate to hug him.

You finally nodded. He felt the mattress shift when you sat on the edge of the bed, and your hands trembled when you hugged him.

He wrapped his arms around you, his hands clutching your shirt in a fist as if you were his lifeline, completely ignoring the pain in his side. God, holding you and smelling your scent was enough for him to make everything else fade into second place.

He exhaled, all the weight shifting off his shoulders, finally feeling at home.

He was so grateful to be able to hold you again, touch you, hear your voice, look at you.

“Fuck, I missed the way you stink,” he muttered, and his heart exploded when you laughed. Man, he loved the sound of your laughter so much he just wanted to record it so he could listen to it over and over again.

“Yeah, well, look who’s talking,” you replied, pulling away from the embrace, a small smile on your lips.

“Well, I’m justified, I’m hurt, I have the right to stink.”

“God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m so glad to even hear your insults.”

He chuckled. “I’m just getting started.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

The room seemed to fade into the background, the steady beeping of the monitor, the distant footsteps in the hallway, the hum of the machines, none of it mattered.

All Jay could see was you. The way your smile lingered, small and fragile, the way your eyes searched his face, as if you were still afraid he might disappear if you blinked.

He studied you like he had all the time in the world now.

The faint shadows under your eyes told him you hadn’t slept. Your hands were still trembling slightly, even though you were trying to hide it.

Jay lifted his hand, slow and careful, and brushed his thumb just beneath your eye, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed falling.

“Did you mean it?” He then found the courage to ask, his voice so low he couldn’t even hear himself.

Your smile grew a little bigger, letting him know you understood what he was referring to. “What? That I love you?”

His stomach twisted and his heart skipped a beat. He nodded feebly, the courage he’d previously found now completely gone. A second passed, the blink of an eye, but to him it seemed like an eternity.

He was terrified of your answer.

What if you’d backtracked? What if you’d only said it out of concern? In the heat of the moment?

“Yes, I meant it,” you replied, lacing your fingers through his again. “I didn’t mean to tell you then, like that, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, but yes, detective, I really, really love you.”

A treacherous tear fell down his cheek, and in that moment, he realized he’d let himself be stabbed a thousand more times if it meant hearing you say that.

You loved him.

All this time pining away, trying not to ruin your relationship, trying to stay as close to you as possible without letting you know how he truly felt... And you loved him.

God, he felt so stupid.

It was your turn to wipe away his tears this time, your thumb caressing his cheek, looking at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

“I was terrified…” he finally found his voice. “I was afraid of dying and not being able to tell you how much I love you, so much it fucking hurts…”

He let out a breath, now like a raging river. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I feel so stupid now… All this time I tried to convince myself it was all in my head because I was terrified of losing you,” he reached up, cupping your face gently, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, memorizing every line, every tiny freckle, every little scar he’d always noticed but never told you how much they meant to him.

“I’ve been bottling it all in… Every look you gave me, every word, every stupid fight I started just to make you laugh or get a reaction. I’ve loved every second of it, even the pain, because it’s you… God, it’s always been you, and it’ll forever be you,” his voice got lower, more desperate, “and now you’re looking at me like this… Fuck… I can’t—”

Jay’s breath caught when you pressed your lips to his. Just like that, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It took him a few seconds to process what was happening.

You were kissing him.

You.

Were.

Kissing.

Him.

One second, he was drowning in his own thoughts, terrified of expressing his feelings and the next you were kissing him, your lips so warm and soft against his.

His brain short-circuited.

Your hands were cupping his face, your mouth was on his and you were really kissing him.

Holy shit.

His chest tightened so hard it hurt worse than any stab wound would ever.

A shaky breath left him and his hand came up on instinct, fingers curling gently in your hair, letting himself go completely. He kissed you back slowly, like this was something sacred, something he’d dreamed of for so long he’d convinced himself it’d never be real.

It was desperate, but it wasn't rushed, it was everything he’d ever wanted and never thought he’d be allowed to have.

All the time he was close to you, all the times he imagined what it’d be like to kiss you, what it’d feel like, nothing could compare to the explosion he felt.

He could feel you trembling against him, the way you lingered, like you were memorizing him the same way he was memorizing you, the taste and the feel of you, the fact that this was actually happening.

When you pulled back, just barely, you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, breath uneven.

His heart was racing and the monitor expressed it.

There was a moment of silence that you broke, as only you knew how to.

“Wow, your breath really smells like shit.”

Jay burst into laughter but winced when a pang shot through his abdomen. “Fuck it hurts, stop making me laugh,” he said. “And yes baby, keep talking dirty to me.”

You laughed and Jay barely had time to recover from the fact that kiss when the door creaked open.

“Alright,” a familiar gravelly voice said, “I think that’s enough romance for one hospital room.”

Jay sighed, eyes still half-closed, forehead resting against yours. Of course.

You pulled back just in time to turn and see Voight standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable as always. Behind him, the rest of Intelligence hovered like old gossips.

Ruzek was the first to step in after Voight. “Damn, man,” he said, eyes flickering between the two of you. “You look like shit.”

Jay smiled. “Good to see you too, Adam.”

Burgess followed, softer, relief written all over her face. “We’re really glad you’re okay, Jay.”

“Yeah,” Atwater added, nodding. “You scared the hell out of us.”

And then there was Antonio, trying, and failing, to hide a grin as his gaze kept going back and fort between you and Jay. His eyes lingered on the way your hand was still tangled in Jay’s, like neither of you had even noticed it.

Jay noticed but he didn’t let go.

“Did we interrupt something lovebirds?” Antonio smirked.

“No.” “Actually yes.” You and Jay answered at the same time.

Voight cleared his throat. “Doctor says you’re going to be fine. Couple weeks of rest, no heroics.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s optional.”

Voight’s mouth twitched, just barely.

There was a beat of silence.

“Now kids,” Voight said, talking to the others, and raised his hands, palms facing up. “You know what to do.”

You and Jay exchanged a confused look as the rest of the team snorted, starting to pull out some money and placing it in Voight’s hands.

Jay stared. “What the hell is happening?”

Voight took the money calmly, like this was the most normal thing in the world and tucked it into his coat pocket.

Ruzek rubbed the back of his neck. “So. Uh. We had a bet.”

Jay groaned. “Of course you did.”

“A bet?” you repeated slowly. “About what?”

Kim winced apologetically. “About whether you two were ever going to end up together.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

Antonio shook his head. “Nope,” then added, “I said six months. Ruzek said never. Kim said you’d figure it out on your own.”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “And Voight?”

He met Jay’s gaze evenly and then looked at you. “I said it’d only happen if one of you almost died.”

Silence.

You stared at him. Jay stared at him. The heart monitor filled the space with its steady beeping.

“Oh…” Jay said weakly, “that’s fucked up.”

Voight shrugged. “I know my detectives.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “You’re all unbelievable.”

“Get some rest, Halstead.” Voight said and then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “And try not to get stabbed again. I’m not betting on round two.”

Voight walked out of the room and the rest of the team took turns hugging Jay.

You sat next to him, fingers intertwined as your teammates gave both you and Jay shit.

And for the first time in a very long time, he felt like that—despite what happened—everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

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[sande5098]

This is soooooo good!!!

[sande5098]

Could you do a Jay Halstead!daughter/Will Halstead!neice with the plot of Chicago fire 7x02 and med 4x02 where instead of pat being stuck in the building then going to med and dying it’s the reader

Fine line

Relations: Jay Halstead!daughter, Will Halstead!niece Warnings: fire, near death experience, injury, swearing, Use of Y/n Requested: Yes, by anon - Thank you for your request and sorry it took so long to complete it. Word count: 2.6k Gif not mine - credits to the owner

————

When Jay first heard about the fire on the TV playing in the background of the intelligence unit he had to rewind it to make sure he heard right. Adam, Kim and Kevin looked up from their paper work too and it was at that moment that Voight came out from his office. “Go on Halstead. Someone will pick up your paperwork.” Jay just nodded and ran off, just about remembering to grap his car keys. The first person he called was Pat; no answer. Y/n was next; again, no answer. Lights and sirens on he just gripped the wheel tighter as he demanded that Siri call Will, who couldn’t even get a word out as soon as he picked up the phone, “have you heard from Dad or Y/n?” Will took a second to catch up but quickly answered, “no no I haven’t, what’s wrong?” “There’s a fire at Dad’s apartment building, Y/n’s school was off so I dropped her off at Dad’s this morning. I’m on my way now, just call me if you hear anything.” Jay hung up the phone and stepped on the accelerator. God, if anything happened… No. He couldn’t think like that, not about Y/n. By the time he got to the scene there were at least 7 fire engines and 12 ambulances, he didn’t talk to anyone, just showed his badge and went on through. No one would stop him if they knew what was good for them. All he could hear were screams of desperation, people shouting for their loved ones and crowds, he pushed past some and tried to avoid those who looked frailer. There were firefighters everywhere and in the middle of all the action was Chief Boden, just the one he was looking to see. “Chief, my Dad and daughter are somewhere in the building, I need to find them, none of them are answering their phones.” Boden nodded, “what apartment are they in?” “23C, my dad just had bypass surgery a month ago and I can’t loose Y/n, she’s my whole world.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Boden, “we’ll find them.”

Jay was acutely aware that he didn’t mention anything about them being alive and it set his nerves alight. He watched as Boden radioed ahead to Casey who radioed back that they were just clearing the floor below and then would be right up to check. Easing little of Jay’s nerves, he asked if he could help in any way and was thankful to be given the job of crowd control; at least he could get out some of his anger at entitled residents complaining about their stuff being lost and trying to go back for it. He quickly took up the role, although his mind didn't once leave the thought of his daughter.

————

About 15 minutes later, he was found by Boden, who was also looking apprehensive about the news that was possibly going to be heard. “Good news, we found Mr Halstead and he’s on his way down with an escort. We’ll have the paramedics assess him when he gets down.” The crackle of the radio came to life; it was Casey's voice. Jay could feel his heart in his throat, a massive lump gathered there, and he couldn’t breathe, let alone talk.

“What of Y/n Halstead? Is she there?” Boden stepped in for him, for which he was thankful. This was the worst feeling in the world. Y/n still wasn’t answering his or Will’s phone calls. Why of all days did this have to happen today when his sweet girl was in the tower? Pat could handle himself; he knew that, but his child must be so scared. Jay could feel the tears threatening to fall. She had to be in there, please. Someone had to find her.

“Are you sure she was here at the time of the fire?” Jay pulled a hand over his face, no he didn’t but why would she be out? “No, but she would’ve went out with Pat for his walk in the morning and got back by now. She wasn’t going to meet friends today.” His mind kept racing, he felt tears slip down his face but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I need to talk to Dad and call Will to update him but if I hear anything I’ll let you know.” Boden nodded, “We’ll find her Jay, even if it’s the last thing we do. We’ll get her back to you.” Jay couldn’t bring himself to talk, he gave the fire chief a tight smile and curt nod.

Calling Will, he updated him on the situation that they had found Pat but no sign of Y/n in the apartment. Will felt his heart break for Jay, who he knew was struggling over the phone. “I can come over and see if I can help. Goodwin has offered..” The offer stood, but it wasn’t answered; the phone just hung up. Will sighed. He knew Jay didn’t want any pity, but it was hard when he was worried too.

————

Y/n spluttered. It was getting harder to breathe, and her 13 year old body was struggling to push the old man up out of his apartment, which was not the least bit wheelchair accessible. Poor Mr Strouce was still waiting for a ground floor apartment. “Honey, you need to get going; the smoke is starting to get too thick up here.” The older man advised, he gave you a concerned look “I’ll be fine Mr Strouce, we need to get you outta here too” You smiled at the older man as you struggled to push the wheelchair closer to the door, you could no longer tell if the sparks that flew around your vision were from the fire or lack of oxygen; you hoped it was neither. Closing your eyes to clear your head was such a relief, so much so that they stayed closed.

————

Jay caught up with Pat who was in a good enough state to be able to tell him we’re Y/n is; in the building on the 25th floor, or “at least that’s where she said she was going” Jay ran a stressed hand over his hair as he tried to make a dash for the stairs before he was stopped by Boden, naturally, he failed and was told that there wouldn’t be a cop dying at his fire site. “She’s in 25C with a wheelchair bound man, someone needs to check there. Please.” Boden radioed yet again and all Jay could do was pace. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his father, with that attitude how the hell did he think it would be safe enough to leave Y/n with him?

Heart palpitations, sweaty hands and shakiness were all that accompanied Jay Halstead as he sat on the kerb waiting for news of his daughter. As firemen and women rushed by him, he looked up to see if his daughter was with them, and when she wasn’t, his heart hurt even more. He had started crying long ago and quite frankly, didn’t even care; he just wanted his little girl.

He found that he couldn't sit still any longer and began pacing, checking his watch every 30 or so seconds. That’s when he heard the radio again, “I have Y/n and Mr Strouce, we're bringing them down now. Y/n doesn't look to be in a good condition." Jay's mouth went completely dry almost as if he had been blasting hot air into his mouth with a hairdryer. Unable to comprehend what he had just heard he turned and before he could do anything a pain went through his hand, he opened his eyes to see a whole in the wall the same size as his fist. the gut-wrenching blow which went through and through just like a bullet, leaving the feeling that he was bleeding out.

It felt like forever until he saw Stella and Hermann racing down the stairs with an unconscious female, he was in flight mode, he made his way after the two firefighters shouting at people in the way to move so they could get her to the ambulance faster.

Jay was silent on the way to med, he’d called ahead to Will to tell him that they were coming and that you weren’t in the best condition. Jay held your hand, just like he always did when you were younger. He watched through blurry vision as tears dropped silently onto the gurney; he couldn’t bear to remove his hands from yours to wipe them.

————

It has all happened so fast, between getting into hospital and you being rushed into surgery. Will had long forgotten his job to be there for his brother as he tried so hard to remain strong himself. It was literal hours before Jay and Will both got news about Y/n's surgery and when they did, it was the best news that they could have hoped for. Y/n was alive and relatively stable for the most part although her surgery was pretty extensive as they had to fix the damage which she had done to her heart under the stress of the fire.

Being able to finally see his Daughter in the PICU was a relief to him, although having to see her in a hospital bed, asleep, had not been the plan. With her asleep for a few days with no sign of waking up, even after the withdrawal of the anaesthetic from her system, she should have been awake by now. Jay had only left to get changed and catch a couple of hours of sleep. Will and the intelligence team and Stella Kidd, who had been moved to the respiratory wing after her lung operation, had come to watch over the sleeping girl. Will was busy trying to help his father find a new place to stay, and currently, the man was living with him and driving him up the wall. It didn't help that the doctors had told him to stay off his feet; as a result of that, Will's house now smelt of cigarette smoke, which he was more than delighted about.

Jay found he couldn't care less about Will's woes, not when he was still waiting for his child to wake up.

When Jay came back to the hospital, after Hank and Hailey had sent him home to clean up and have some proper sleep, which there wasn't much of, from the nightmares over the last couple of days. Jay was alarmed at the fact that there was another doctor in his little girl's room with Will, running some sort of test. "What's going on, Will?" He asked cautiously, moving to take the seat beside his daughter.

Will looked to his brother nervously, "Jay, I'm concerned why Y/n hasn't woken up yet, so I called a neurology friend of mine in to consult." Will began, only to receive a dubious look from Dr. Abrams at the mention of the word 'Friends'. The room was silent once again, and the tension was so thick that you could practically cut it with a knife. Jay could feel the annoyance grip his voice, "And?" he snapped. He didn't have the time for this; he just wanted to be with his little girl, hoping that she would open her beautiful eyes sometime soon. Sam took over from explaining what Will was attempting to, seeing as it had gotten stuck in his throat. "Mr Halstead, due to the reduction of brain activity, it's quite likely that Y/n is brain dead."

Jay felt his breath catch in his throat; There was no chance, no way that had just came out of this random doctor's mouth. "Get him outta here, Will." "Jay-" "Now!" He could feel himself shaking in fury; the beeping of the machines drifted into the background as the tears started to fall. Grasping his daughter’s hand tightly in his, he cried; cried for all of the memories that they never got to share, cried for the fact he might never see her grow up, cried that he wouldn't get to walk her down the aisle.

It was Hailey who came back to sit with him; Will must’ve caught her up on everything because she didn’t talk, just hugged Jay from behind. He could feel her tears staining his shirt, and just like any other time, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

————

It was a couple of weeks after the fire before Jay returned to work, against Voight’s advice but he couldn’t bear to sit by his daughter’s bedside any longer wishing and hoping that her condition would get better. He needed to catch the bastard stupid enough to start the bloody fire; at least then he would be able to get some kind of retribution for her.

Although he went to see her every day and every time he saw her, his hope of her waking up again drained. More recent EEGs showed a little more brain activity, but not nearly enough to be viable.

Jay gave a tight smile to Kevin as they left the station for the night. Chicago was starting to get cold with winter coming. Jay’s car wasn’t much warmer than outside, although he was thankful to be out of the way of the wind that was blistering its way through the city, making tree branches shake in the wind. He rubbed his hands together and breathed hot air into them in a lazy attempt to warm himself up. It was almost 9pm, there wasn’t much time to go see Y/n, and he debated skipping going tonight; it was late, and he was so tired. But something wouldn’t let him, no matter how much he felt like it. A mix of a sigh and a yawn, Jay turned the key in the ignition and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before starting the fifteen minute drive to med.

He entered med through the main doors, avoiding the E.D completely. He hadn’t seen Will for quite some time, although his brother still did visit his niece most days, just not when he was there.

It seemed almost like Jay was on autopilot. He knew what to expect: go sit in your room, hold your hand, tell you to hurry up and come back to him and then leave after visiting hours were over. The same everyday for the last month. There were little changes to Yn's EEG's in the right direction, although Sam had told him to not get hopeful; that they might not mean anything or lead to her waking up.

As he got closer to his daughter's room, he could hear his brother's voice... and Natalie's. But then there was a laugh, it was yours. Jay added a quip to his step and peered around the corner, scared that this was all in his head and not real life. Maybe he was just having a bad dream and it was all a lie.

Jay could feel the water in his eyes before he even comprehended the scene in front of him. Will and Natalie were both in the room with his daughter, who was sitting up, awake and laughing lightly. Before he could stop himself, he ran down the corridor and into the room, "Sunshine?"

He swallowed the sob that threatened to overcome him as his green eyes met hers. "Dad!" Y/n pushed herself further up the bed as Jay rushed closer to give his little girl a hug. The best hug he'd ever gotten.

[sande5098]

Hi can you please write more Ava Becker x daughter, I really like them.

School meeting

Ava Bekker x Daughter!Reader

Requested: Yes, by anon - I hope you like it. Sorry it took so long to get to, I got (Badly) sidetracked. Synopsis: Ava is called by her daughter's principal to come in for a meeting about her daughter's 'disrespectful' behaviour. Warnings: Probably badly used isiXhosa. Fluff and general cuteness. Both Ava and Reader being badasses, etc, etc. Word count: 1.8k Gif is not mine, credit to the creator.

-------

Ava pressed the red hang-up button on her phone, and her hands went to run through her hair, which she had taken down at the start of her lunch break. Connor looked up from his lunch, concern in his eyes, "Is everything okay?"

Ava snored, shaking her head. "That was Y/n's school. They want me to come in for a meeting about her behaviour after school." She stabbed her fork into the salad leaves in the box in front of her.

Connor raised an eyebrow, "Her behaviour? That's not like her. She's a good kid, a bit sharp tongued maybe, but she's just like her mom." Connor gave Ava a cheesy grin, causing her to playfully slap him with her hand lightly. Only making them both laugh and continue their lunch.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Connor asked, the seriousness returning to their previous conversation. Ava shook her head, her blonde, wavy hair obscuring her eyes briefly. "No, we should be fine. I have a feeling that I might get to use that sharp tongue of mine, however." Ava found herself grinning, using Connor's previous comment. They both finished their lunch before having to inevitably go back to their jobs.

---------

As Ava pulled up to the school, scrubs still on, knowing that she would have to go back to the hospital after this meeting. Thankfully, Miss Goodwin had approved the next couple of hours off since the majority of her patients were mostly stable.

Chicago was warm this time of year, so much so that she knew that her car was going to be baking after this meeting. The car park and collection areas were mostly empty, with it being forty five minutes after pick up time.

Stepping into the high school was weird to say the least, it had been years since she had been to school, and it certainly was not one of this size or had an entrance hall of this grandeur.

Clearing her throat, she approached the office desk, where there was two members of staff working at desks. "Excuse me, I have a meeting with Principal Evers about my daughter, Y/n Bekker. I was informed of an incident of disrespectful behaviour."

One of the women looked up and smiled at her, "Of course, he has been expecting you. Miss Bekker is already in the room with him and the teacher who reported the behaviour. Principal Evers' office is that door on the right and then the 2nd door on the left."

Ava smiled at the woman and turned to walk to the door, which was pointed out to her. The office that she stepped into was filled with a various amount of trophies and awards that the school had earned over the last several years. Looking ahead, however, there was Principal Evers, her daughter and a somewhat frustrated looking teacher.

The man, principal Evers stood up and greeted Ava with a firm handshake. “You must be Mrs Bekker, please take a seat.”

“It’s Dr Bekker actually, for the record.” Ava smiled tightly as the man shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his tie nervously as he looked to the embroidered writing in her hospital scrubs.

“Right, I apologise.” Ava nodded, “it’s an easy misconception to make.” Principal Evers motioned for her to take the seat beside her daughter.

Ava looked to her daughter, matching brown eyes glinted back at her, her daughter’s lip bit from attempting to hold back her laughter.

Taking her seat, Ava sat straight, the same way it had been drilled into her as a young child. Her expression was neutral, yet not bored. It was uncanny the way both mother and daughter looked to be each other’s mirror.

“We appreciate you taking time out of your day to meet with us. I am sure you can understand how Miss Bekker's behaviour was disruptive to the rest of the class’s learning.” Principal Evers began, his hands pressed together, sitting in front of him on the desk.

“Of course,” Ava inclined her head, shooting a curious look in her daughter’s directions.

“Your daughter interrupted the lesson by speaking out of turn, contradicting a teacher and afterwards, refusing to apologise.” Ava nodded thoughtfully and took a moment before turning to her daughter, “is this true?”

Y/n answered almost immediately, “Yes, but-” she started but pauses when her mother holds up a finger, silencing her. It wasn’t a reprimand but Y/n let her voice died in her throat.

“Before we discuss the consequences of Y/n’s actions, I would like to clarify this situation.” Ava had turned her attention back to Principal Evers, “Of course.”

Ava cleared her throat, “so you are saying that my daughter interrupted a lesson. What task was being completed when she disrupted the class?”

The principal furrows his eyebrows, trying to make sense relevance of the situation. Looking back to the teacher and turning back to Ava, “ I do believe it was during a reading exercise.”

Ava nodded thoughtfully, was silent for a moment and when the principal went to continue what he was saying before Ava spoke before him, “which student was reading?”

The principal looked towards the teacher who shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of her boss and Ava, she glowered slightly when she noticed Y/n’s smirk, which was gone from her face before anyone else could notice, clearing her throat, “it was one of the weaker readers.”

Ava’s eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted to the right, “weaker by which metric?” Ava remained composed as she asked the questions, instead of this being a meeting about her daughter’s behaviour, it was being turned on its heels. The teacher hesitated under Ava’s dark, piercing eyes, “he struggles.”

Ava sits forward, curious, “In what metric? Is it fluency? Comprehension? Decoding?” She’s asked mildly, a frown taking over her face and having to repeat herself.

The room was thick with silence, the teacher opening and closing her mouth like a fish before coming up with an answer, “all of the above.”

Ava nods but the frown doesn’t leave her face, she glances over to Y/n. Her daughter was sitting there, eyes alight at watching her teacher squirm. She cleared her throat and gave her daughter a pointed look. Y/n’s gaze fell to look at her hands in her lap.

“How many times was the student asked to read aloud?” Ava pushed.

“I can't recall the exact number.”

Ava sits back in her chair slightly, relaxing, she had control of this conversation. “A range then. Was it twice, five times, seven?”

The teacher was quiet for a little before replying, “…several.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “and when he was struggling, what intervention did you provide?”

“Well I encouraged him of course. As any good teacher would.”

“In what way?” Ava asked.

“Dr Bekker, I fail to see why this information is important. This meeting is to discuss your daughter’s behaviour and use of language.” The principal interjects, an attempt to regain control of the conversation.

Ava smiled, placating the man, “I agree. However I am establishing context.”

The teacher, who was already tense from the interaction, stiffened even more, “There was some disruption from the other students.”

“I’m assuming laughter, mocking behaviours.” Ava suggested and the teacher nodded, unable to speak. “And was it corrected?”

“Yes, I attempted to correct it.” The teacher replied tersely.

“And did my daughter join in with this behaviour?”

“No.”

Ava nods again, relaxing back into the chair. Her voice calm, if not bored. “So the environment had already deteriorated before my daughter questioned your methods.”

The principal interjected again, “Regardless of the context of the situation, challenging a teacher using language like Miss Bekker done is unacceptable.”

Ava met his gaze, “I agree. However, I am interested in why the situation required a public correction at all.”

She was met with silence that stretched for a long time, smiling tightly she turned to her daughter. “What did you say, verbatim.”

Y/n raised her eyes to meet her mothers, “I said, ‘You should stop, it’s not helping him.’”

“And?” She raised an eyebrow.

“When that didn’t resolve it I said, ‘you’re being cruel.’” Y/n lowered her gaze at the end of the sentence, Ava frowned thoughtfully. “We will talk about this in the car.” She turned her attention back to the principal, “that word seemed to be the tipping point.”

“Yes.”

Ava nodded thoughtfully, “was the behaviour itself addressed? Or was it the language used to describe it.”

The principal pressed his lips together, looking tense in his own right, “both, however the language was inexcusable.”

“Then our thoughts are aligned.” She stated, “my daughter used an imprecise forum, not an inaccurate assessment.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, so shocked that she had to stop herself from whipping her head up to not give herself whiplash.

The principal must have sensed he was fighting a losing battle and firmly addressed his next words, “we’re issuing a written warning and a the rest of the week with internal exclusion. Miss Bekker will still come to school but will be placed in a classroom without her classmates and will do her school work and have her recess independently.”

Ava smiled coyly, “that is appropriate. Rules must be upheld.”

The teacher relaxes, knowing the meeting was coming to an end, although a bit too soon. Ava spoke again. “I would recommend, however, that intervention strategies within the classroom for struggling readers be revised. It will prevent future disruptions.”

The principal replies, his voice now stiff. “We will take that into consideration.”

Ava nodded in reply, “Let us go, Y/n. I need to get back to work and you should be doing your homework.”

——————

Sitting in the car was the next time Ava spoke on the drive home. “Did you see what I did?”

Y/n nodded slowly, “you had them define the problem for themselves.”

Her mother nodded, “Yes. They are more likely to change their methods, if spoken to calmly.”

“And you act like you know better.” Y/n muttered, grinning shyly at her mum who rolled her eyes.

“You made them uncomfortable.” She stated, Ava nodded, “That was not my intention, I wanted them to be precise.” Ava smiled slightly, “Their discomfort was merely a byproduct of their own making.”

Y/n smiled to herself before letting it drop, “so I shouldn’t have said ‘cruel’.”

“Like I said, your assessment was not wrong, however you voiced it wrong.”

Y/n found herself smiling despite herself. Silence fell between the two of them, enjoying the sound of the Chicago traffic around them. As Ava stopped outside their apartment building, dropping Y/n off home. Ava stopped her daughter before she closed the car door. “for the record, I am proud of what you did today.”

Ava smiled kindly at her daughter, proudness reflecting in her eyes. Y/n grinned back. “Ndiyakuthanda mama.”

As Ava was driving back to the hospital, she couldn’t help how proud she was of her daughter. She couldn’t condone her daughter sticking up to something which wasn’t ethically correct.

She also couldn’t wait to tell Connor about the laughable reason she was called into Y/n’s school for.

[sande5098]

Can you do one with Connor Rhodes x Reader? They are both married and have a kid together. The kid is sick and is very clingy and wants to be with both parents but Connor has to go to work.

Damn - this really shows how long I've been off Tumblr for... I really should check my requests more often. This one will be short, but hopefully it's good enough. I haven't written in a good year at least.

I have a few posts I need to get through and hopefully I will have them all up to date in the next couple of months.

Sneaking out

Connor Rhodes x Wife!Reader

Summary: When a clingy toddler gets sick, it's almost harder to sneak out than when they were teenagers sneaking off to parties.

Requested: Yes, by anon

warnings: Talk of being sick, slight fluff, implied female reader

word count: 815 words

Gif not mine - credit to the owner

---------

Connor scrunched his eyes up together; the dreadful blaring of his alarm was going off. Rolling over to turn it off, he realised just how easy the covers moved with him. Come to think of it, he was cold, colder than he usually was. Opening his eyes to the empty side of the bed opposite him, where you usually slept, made Connor briefly close his eyes again. His lack of getting to cuddle you usually meant that the day was not going to be a good one.

He forced himself up out of bed and put on his scrubs before stepping into the hallway opposite their son's door, which was open, curtains open, light on and bed stripped. The TV in the living room was playing cartoons, and there were only a couple of things that would mean that their four year old was up and awake and the bed stripped. Either he had an accident, a nightmare or was sick and judging by the washing, the amount of coffee cups by the sink and the 'sick basin' was sitting on the floor beside the sofa.

Connor looked over at the sofa, watching his wife and son cuddle on the sofa under a teddy bear fleece blanket. "Good morning, how are my angels today." The child with a mop of dark hair turned his head, "Daddy!" he sprang up from the sofa and ran to give his dad a big hug, "Hey buddy, are you not feeling well?" Connor frowned, putting the back of his hand against his son's forehead, it was fiery warm, and his cheeks were flushed. Connor could feel the child shake his head against his leg.

Looking up to is wife, she shook her head, bags heavy under her e/c eyes, Connor could feel a bit of pity creeping its way into his face. "He's been up since 2:30, been sick... five times." She stopped to mentally count how many times.

"Jesus, why didn't you wake me. I would have stayed up with him just so you could get some sleep. I don't like seeing my girl tired." Connor said, lifting Theo, the son, back onto the sofa. Theo snuggled his way in between his Mum and Dad, holding onto both of them tightly.

"You have work today, surgeries booked. I already called the nursery to say Theo wouldn't be coming in and took the day off work." Y/n spoke, stopping to yawn midway through the sentence, "Besides, you have tomorrow off, so it'll be your turn tomorrow." She couldn't keep the giggle out of her voice as Connor rolled his eyes in reply. "Fair enough, love."

Connor sat there for five minutes, enjoying the peaceful time with his family, not something that happened often with both of them having full time jobs, looking at the clock on the wall, he sighed, "well, I best be on my way to work. I'll see you both later. Connor leaned over to kiss his wife's h/l h/c hair, and they shared an equally tired smile that wished each other luck for the day, both of them were going to need it.

Connor ruffled Theo's hair, "I'll be back later for dinner, buddy, you be good for mommy." As Connor went to get up, Theo clung to him; the weight was enough to pull Connor back onto the sofa. "Daddy stay," came a mumbled toddler voice. Y/n couldn't help but smile softly at their son's attempt to keep his dad home. "Theo, Buddy, Daddy needs to go work to help people feel better. He can't do that if he is home with you, can he?" Connor's voice was slightly pleading; he needed to go or else he would be late, and he was sure Dr Latham would have his guts.

Theo shook his head, "But I want you and Mommy to stay home with me. pleaseee." Theo looked to both of them with huge puppy dog eyes that almost broke Connor. Y/n interrupted Theo's pleading, "How about we put on another movie you want to watch... what about Paw Patrol?" Theo's eyes lit up, "I'll go find it!" The toddler jumped up from the sofa and dashed to his room, determined to find the Paw Patrol DVD. y/n and Connor laughed lightly. It was almost like Theo wasn't even sick anymore.

They both shared a small smile, Connor leaning close and pressing his and Y/n's lips together to share a small kiss. "Go before he comes back, Con," She whispered, pressing her lips to his once more. "Call me if you need anything, babe." he reminded her as he lifted himself off the sofa for the second time before sneaking to the door, lifting his keys on the way out, making sure to close the front door to their apartment as quietly as possible.

[enretrogue]

𝗙𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟮)

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

ONE CHICAGO:

Antonio Dawson

Hotheaded — @marshmallows2345

Spicy Sweet — ^

Messed Up — @bullet-prooflove

Leather and Cuffs — @poisonedjoinery

Baby Fever — @iamasimpingh0e

Crockett Marcel

The Box — @bullet-prooflove

Got a million numbers and they’re filling up your phone, boy — ^

Together — ^

The fire’s out, but it still burns — ^

One Day — ^

Bruises ⎢ Ch. 1 ⎢ Ch. 2 ⎢ Ch. 3 ⎢ Ch. 4 ⎢ Ch. 5 — @wellimaginethat

Little Green Monster — ^

Overdue — ^

Reckless — @sande5098

Not Happy To See Me? — ^

FBI Meets ED — @shelby-love

Finally — ^

Only Mine — @pumpkincandlesoup

Guilty Pleasure (Blurb) — @shelsgovroomvroom

Jealous Much? — @thebookreader12345

Jay Halstead

Melt — @starlost97

Kevin Atwater

Flawless Communication — @darqchilddaydreamz ༝༚༝༚

Will Halstead

I’d Do It Again — @kiddbegins

Aching — ^

Closed Off — ^

Sick Days — ^

Napping — ^

Laughing — ^

He Won’t Stop Staring — ^

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Alfie Solomons

Say It Dirty — @darklydeliciousdesires

Alfie w/ a Younger Wife HCs — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Thomas Shelby

Oh god, if you only knew the things I'd do for you. — @writeroutoftime

TRIPLE FRONTIER:

Multi-Character

I Got Your Six ⎢ Ch. 1-5 (Benny, Frankie, Santi, Will + Tom) — @l00na24

Benny Miller

Favorite Headcanon — @bullet-prooflove

Frankie “Catfish” Morales

All My Dreamin’ — @tightjeansjavi

Time of the Month — @endlessthxxghts

Hold Fast — @jeewrites

[sande5098]

Thank you so much for putting some of my fics on the list!!

[cantstoptheimagines]

attention all writers! tumblr is rolling out a new feature that allows our work to be used in ai training processes!

be sure to opt out of this in your visibility settings immediately! and remember, you have to opt out for each blog, not just your main!

go to your blogs’ settings (again, you have to do these steps for each blog, not just your main blog)

scroll until you see “visibility” and choose that

in your visibility settings, choose “prevent third-party sharing for (blog name)”

you may opted out already but we don’t take chances with ai around these parts *insert angry cowboy*

tagging some mutuals to get the word out — @multifandomsimagine @pegxcarter @moremaybank @gladerscake @goldenroutledge @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @tangledinlove @rafeandonlyrafe @mvybanks

[imtryingbuck]

Tagging everyone I follow; some may already know about this but just to be safe.

@buckys-wintersoldier @disasterofastory @mushies-stories @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @1800jjbarnes @witchywithwhiskey @veltana @angrythingstarlight @navybrat817 @shurisneakers @bjornswoman @dreamwritesimagines @sunshine-on-my-mind @it-was-too-cold-always @highonmarvel @sergeantbarnessdoll @deliciousangelfestival @samodivaa @hotreadingwitch @secretswiftymarvelfan @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @rookthorne @cosmicbucky @urdepressedslut @nicoline1998enilocin @missvelvetsstuff @kayhi808 @tuiccim @kittybeansbarnes @writing-for-marvel @espinosaurusrexex @pellucid-constellations @holylulusworld @sweetpeapod

[espinosaurusrexex]

❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️❕❗️

Tagging everyone I didn’t see up there ♥️

@buckyalpine @onsunnyside @subwaysurf45 @wkemeup @bbyboybucket @nickfowlerrr @sinner-as-saint @adrinktostopyourthirst @pedrito-friskito @delaber @buckysbabygorl @redgillan @rassvetsky @assembletheimagines @cinebration @aries-writingblog @wonderbreadbucky @kinanabinks @foreverindreamlandd

[cinebration]

@writeroutoftime @stardancerluv @lucy-sky @bubblyani

I am definitely forgetting people, but maybe they’ll see this or get tagged by the others above.

[sande5098]

Finally a place to call home

Ava/Connor fic??

Relationship: Connor Rhodes x Ava Bekker

Warnings: swearing, injury

Word count: 1.6k words

----

Cwtch - A welsh word meaning more than a hug or a cuddle. When you give someone a cwtch you give them a safe place.

Ava couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, the air leaving her lungs let the heavy weight of stress fall from her. Between work and having to pack up her apartment and finding a new place to live was beginning to get too stressful for her liking. Coming home to a house filled with boxes only seemed to make her feel like she was back at work. She sucked in a breath and ran her hands through her hair, an action that she felt she'd done a lot over the past few weeks.

At least tomorrow she had the day off. Maybe she could do some apartment viewing... Ava shook her head, she couldn't even rest when she came home now. She pushed herself off of the sofa and walked towards the kitchen to make herself a mug of coffee. boiling the kettle was the early part, she could feel her legs shaking from beneath her, struggling to hold her weight. God, she really needed to lay down and sleep.

Once the kettle had finished boiling she lifted the heavy weighted item and it shook as she tried to pour herself a mug of coffee. "Fuck!" she whispered, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Ava practically dropped the kettle on the counter as she rushed to the sink to turn the cold water tap on. The scald burned and sizzled under the cold water and she sucked wind through her teeth. She was way too tired for this, she just needed her bed, screw dinner and screw coffee. She found herself getting lost in her own thoughts as she held her hand under the water before a knock at the door shook her out of her thoughts. That was when she remembered her off the cuff night in with Connor that they'd organised earlier that day when Ava still felt up for human company and completely forgot about the mess of her apartment.

Hyping herself up as she turned off the tap and gently dried her tender wound with a rough towel which she internally winced at as she turned the door knob. Connors smiling face at the other end of the door holding up takeaway bags made her forget all her worries for that moment. So much so that she nearly cried with absolute joy when she saw the man she loved, Connor's eyebrows furrowed and Ava realised she hadn't let him in, smiling sheepishly she stood out of his way and he walked into the apartment. "Hey, are you going somewhere?" Connor asked as he looked around at all of the boxes sitting in no particular order all over the room. Ava nodded from the kitchen where she had went to put the towel back, her hand still burning, looking down at it, it was still a bright red raw colour with small bumps forming which she internally cringed at. "Uhh yeah, my landlord's increased the lease and I just can't afford it anymore so I'm moving out in the next three weeks." she called from the kitchen as she went to grab forks, only to realise that she had already packet them away, "For gods sakes," she muttered angrily as she now had to go searching through a tonne of boxes that she really didn't want to do. "Have you found a new place yet?" Connor asked, he could hear the tension in her voice.

“Uhh not yet, I’m planning on going to view a few places tomorrow.” Ava said, distracted by the pain of the burn brushing up against stuff in the moving boxes. In the end she resorted to just looking with one hand. She found them fairly quickly after that and held them to the burn which sent a chill throughout her body, Ava met Connor with a quick kiss "What did you bring tonight?" Connor smiled as he pressed another kiss to her lips, soft and sweet, "mhm Chinese, your favourite." Ava couldn't help but get excited at the prospect at getting to eat chicken chow mein takeaway and could feel her mouth watering at the prospect, "Let's have it before it gets cold?" she giggled and Connor nodded before they sat down together. "American housewife?" Connor laughed, "you know it." Ava found herself getting lost in the comfort of a relaxing night in with her boyfriend. They'd been together for almost 6 months and it was all perfect, although Ava didn't know if this was because they were in the honeymoon stage of dating or if this was going to be an all time thing.

Connor had finished his Chinese, chicken satay and went to hold Ava's hand, she pulled it away quickly. "sorry, scalded it earlier. It's still a little tender." Connor's face grew in concern, he turned to Ava, ignoring the show. "Let me see it love." "Connor..." "Avey." His voice was serious and Ava begrudgingly gave in and huffed out a breath just turning her attention to the program that just happened to go on a break right at the worst moment, now she had to pay attention to Connor.

"Avey, this is a second degree scald, what happened?" Connor said, quickly rising from the sofa to grab the first aid kit, "Connor, I don't need you fussing over me." Ava said, although her tone was verging on whining. "Ava, Its a second degree burn, Its weeping and badly blistered. You're glad I'm not making you go to hospital." Connor lightly scolded, Ava just rolled her eyes. "If you're looking for the cling film (Plastic wrap), It's in the top cupboard on the left."

Connor returned to Ava on the sofa and began to gently wrap her hand, "Ava, what's going on? You know how important it is to wrap a burn of any type." Ava looked up to meet Connors stone blue eyes and could feel herself spilling all that was bothering her. Her asshole of a landlord, not having a place to go to, she felt the annoying urge of tears coming to her eyes and she hurried to brush them away. "Ava, you can talk to me about anything you know? I'm not going to judge you." Connor moved his hand to her shoulder and she ducked her head. Connor didn't need to see her cry, "talk to me love, what's going on?"

"I.. I just don't know what to do anymore. My landlords raised my rent so much so that I can't afford it and now I have to find a new place to live in 3 weeks." Ava felt the oxygen escape her lungs and she couldn't get it back no matter how much she tried, "I'm not used to being unprepared, I, I don't know what I'm doing anymore." Connor pulled Ava to him gently as she sobbed, just holding her. It hurt him to see his girl under so much stress and her not turning to him hurt too. She knew that she could rely on him so why didn't she? He knew that Ava was strong, the strongest woman which he had ever met, aside from his mom, but even then, did he really know her. Connor planted a soft kiss onto of her head, "You know that we'll work something out, we always do. Together." Ava unburied herself from Connors torso, eyes red and puffy, she gave him a shaky, weak smile. "Together?" she whispered, "together. Forever and always." Ava grinned at Connor and hugged him as tight as she could. "I love you Connor Rhodes." Connor smiled down at his girl, beautiful in all ways, "and I love you too Ava Bekker."

----

It was Connor who woke up first the next morning. Somehow, Ava and he must've fell asleep on the sofa last night, although he couldn’t say he was disappointed. Ava was cuddled up beside him, her hair messy and covering her features. He smiled wistfully, wishing that this moment could last forever. He turned his attention to the tv which had made its way onto standby sometime in the middle of the night. Connor yawned and used his free hand which he didn’t have wrapped around Ava to push her hair behind her ears, she looked so peaceful like she had no worries in the world, although he knew differently.

Not wanting to wake her, he lay still gently playing with strands of her hair. That was what Ava woke up to, her boyfriend playing with her hair, plaiting it. “Connor..” her voice was groggy, still filled with sleep as she spoke his name. “Good morning to you too Ava,” Connor replied, stretching as Ava lifted herself off of him.

“I was thinking-” Connor started before Ava cut him off, “uhoh that’s a dangerous pastime Connor” She smiled. Connor just looked at her and Ava rolled her eyes, “alright I’ll keep the cometary at bay for now.” “Thank you” Connor replied holding his nose up in the air “as I was saying before I was RUDELY interrupted…” Ava gently hit Connor on the shoulder, who rubbed it, acting as if it was the worst pain in the world. Clearing his throat, he continued. “If you, Ava Bekker, wanted to move in with me?”

Ava was too stunned to speak, instead she just stared at Connor dumbly, lips parted open in pure shock. “You want me to move in with you?” She clarified, wanting to make sure she wasn’t hearing things. Connor just smiled at her, “yeah that’s the general idea.” Connor got worried when Ava didn’t answer straight away but when she smiled and said yes, jumping into his arms and kissing him furiously he knew that she was the one for him. He was glad she was moving in with him, they could finally make their house into a home.

[sande5098]

If you don't mind Whould you write me a imagine Fanfic Oneshot of about me and Will Halstead pliss? 🥺🥺❤️❤️

In the Rain

Characters: Fem. Reader x Will Halstead

Requested: Yes, by @zaidatorcuatomorgado I really hope you enjoy this🩷

Prompt: "Dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist."

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, just will being an absolute sweetheart ♡🥰

word count: 1.1K

----

You sat at bar swirling what was left of your whiskey, after a long day at home and an even longer day at work you were ready for the weekend. Praying that no disasters caused a last minute call in to work. Currently, you'd had enough of the world and the dried tear tracks showed that, Timothy, your fiancé had just broken up with you well, ex-fiancé, and now, you didn't have it in yourself to go home. Too many raw emotions and memories. And there was no point in crying over a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream tonight, besides if you found someone else whose bed you could get into, even better.

"Hey can I have 2 of what the woman beside me's drinking" You raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything to the red head as he took the bar stool beside you. Frowning a bit when you had another whiskey neat passed towards you. "Thanks" "you looked like you needed it." he replied easily shrugging his shoulders. "Jez, a ‘no problem’ or ‘you're welcome’ would've been fine" rolling your eyes, you finished off the last of your whiskey before moving on to the one the stranger beside you had so kindly bought you.

"Is everything okay? You look like you're going through something." the redhead asked you. You snorted a little, "Who are you, my therapist?" The man chuckled, "Close enough, I'm a doctor." You nodded at that, half expecting the answer to be some form of healthcare professional. "Y/n L/n" you turned and smiled at him. He done the same. "Will Halstead." "It's nice to meet you doctor Halstead" you purred quietly to him, you could see a tinge of red rising to Will's face, It clashed horribly with his hair but at the same time you thought it looked quite cute. Drinking the last of your whiskey, you saw Will's drink go largely untouched. "You not a fan?" Will gave you a tight smile, "No I'm more of a spirits guy myself do you want it?" He relied easily. Without another word you picked up the drink and drank half of the glass.

"Did you just order what I ordered to try to pick me up." Raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk playing on your lips. "Is it working? Because if it is, that's a yes." You felt a hand slide from your middle spine to your lower spine, sitting on the curve, sending a shiver through your body. "Maybe..." Your left hand reached for his thigh. You felt the strong muscles flex beneath your touch. Making you want to shiver but you refused the urge. You could feel the effect of the past three or four shots on your stomach, you knew your head was clouded but at the same time you couldn’t bring yourself to care much. “What do you want to drink?” Will gave you a curious look, “just a vodka and coke.” You nodded and finished the shot of whiskey and asked the bartender for a shot of vodka and a vodka and coke. You were slightly glad for Will’s hand on the small of your back. You knew that you probably would’ve fell off the stool by now otherwise, and you didn’t feel particularly like ending up in the E.R for a cracked open skull.

"You're wondering what's got me drinking so heavily? My fiancé dumped me." You said, shrugging your shoulders, your eyes drifted away from his sorrowful soft expression, you didn't want people to feel sorry for you. Things like this happened to people all the time, it wasn't worth crying over Timothy anymore. "Im sorry to hear that, you must be taking it quite harshly." he motioned to the drink, "Speaking of, how much have you had to drink in the last hour?” Will asked as you suddenly downed the next shot as soon as it was set in front of you. You squeezed your eyes shut at the taste “about 5 ish now" you shrugged, not really caring. He gave you an 'are you serious look, making you giggle. "Come on, I'll take you home" Will handed his card over to the bartender, telling him to close both of your tabs out before helping you stand up.

As soon as you were on both of your feet the world started spinning around you, you could barely put a foot in front of the other without stumbling. At least Will was there to save you from making a fool of yourself by falling flat on your face, for that you were glad. The dizziness got a little better the longer you stood and you could at least walk without stumbling now in a somewhat decent straight line.

"Ugh it's raining, just amazing." you complained, Will smiled down softly at you, "Come on, It's not that bad right?" Looking up at him you had to pull your gaze away as you felt your cheeks get flushed. "Here, take my coat." The red head said as he placed the coat over your shoulders, the heat from it made you shudder and bury the remainder of your body into the coat which drowned you, reaching halfway down your calfs. "Thanks" you mumbled as you could feel your eyes burning, trying to kid yourself into the fact that the rain managed to get into your eyes and that they were just watering was no use, especially when you tried to hide it.

Will looked down at you as you sneakily tried to wipe your eyes, he captured your chin and tilted your head so your e/c eyes and his light brown eyes met. Using his other hand, he wiped away the remaining tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. "Just dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist." he whispered, upon recognising the slow dance that could be heard from the jukebox within the bar. "In the rain? You'll get a chill without anything to keep you dry." you laughed lightly as more rain dripped onto your face, except this time it was from Will's hair. "Why not?" He took his hands and placed them on your waist, you moved yours to around his neck and he started to move, guiding your steps.

The traffic of the wet Chicago night really just set the right scene for this, the occasional honk of a car horn in the distance, the muffled, yet beautiful melody playing from the jukebox, even the rain played its part as you apologised yet again for stepping on Will's feet again as he just laughed at you.

As the song came to an end, he brought you to his car to give you that ride that he had offered. He even left his number on your kitchen counter for when you woke up the next morning and you couldn't help but smile at the cute post-it note that contained a phone number and a little smiley face with curly hair.

[annieradcliff]

This is adorable! This is absolutely something Will would have done. Forever our sweet, caring ginger physician!

[sande5098]

Aww thank you so much 🥰🥰

[sande5098]

If you don't mind Whould you write me a imagine Fanfic Oneshot of about me and Will Halstead pliss? 🥺🥺❤️❤️

In the Rain

Characters: Fem. Reader x Will Halstead

Requested: Yes, by @zaidatorcuatomorgado I really hope you enjoy this🩷

Prompt: "Dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist."

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, just will being an absolute sweetheart ♡🥰

word count: 1.1K

----

You sat at bar swirling what was left of your whiskey, after a long day at home and an even longer day at work you were ready for the weekend. Praying that no disasters caused a last minute call in to work. Currently, you'd had enough of the world and the dried tear tracks showed that, Timothy, your fiancé had just broken up with you well, ex-fiancé, and now, you didn't have it in yourself to go home. Too many raw emotions and memories. And there was no point in crying over a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream tonight, besides if you found someone else whose bed you could get into, even better.

"Hey can I have 2 of what the woman beside me's drinking" You raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything to the red head as he took the bar stool beside you. Frowning a bit when you had another whiskey neat passed towards you. "Thanks" "you looked like you needed it." he replied easily shrugging his shoulders. "Jez, a ‘no problem’ or ‘you're welcome’ would've been fine" rolling your eyes, you finished off the last of your whiskey before moving on to the one the stranger beside you had so kindly bought you.

"Is everything okay? You look like you're going through something." the redhead asked you. You snorted a little, "Who are you, my therapist?" The man chuckled, "Close enough, I'm a doctor." You nodded at that, half expecting the answer to be some form of healthcare professional. "Y/n L/n" you turned and smiled at him. He done the same. "Will Halstead." "It's nice to meet you doctor Halstead" you purred quietly to him, you could see a tinge of red rising to Will's face, It clashed horribly with his hair but at the same time you thought it looked quite cute. Drinking the last of your whiskey, you saw Will's drink go largely untouched. "You not a fan?" Will gave you a tight smile, "No I'm more of a spirits guy myself do you want it?" He relied easily. Without another word you picked up the drink and drank half of the glass.

"Did you just order what I ordered to try to pick me up." Raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk playing on your lips. "Is it working? Because if it is, that's a yes." You felt a hand slide from your middle spine to your lower spine, sitting on the curve, sending a shiver through your body. "Maybe..." Your left hand reached for his thigh. You felt the strong muscles flex beneath your touch. Making you want to shiver but you refused the urge. You could feel the effect of the past three or four shots on your stomach, you knew your head was clouded but at the same time you couldn’t bring yourself to care much. “What do you want to drink?” Will gave you a curious look, “just a vodka and coke.” You nodded and finished the shot of whiskey and asked the bartender for a shot of vodka and a vodka and coke. You were slightly glad for Will’s hand on the small of your back. You knew that you probably would’ve fell off the stool by now otherwise, and you didn’t feel particularly like ending up in the E.R for a cracked open skull.

"You're wondering what's got me drinking so heavily? My fiancé dumped me." You said, shrugging your shoulders, your eyes drifted away from his sorrowful soft expression, you didn't want people to feel sorry for you. Things like this happened to people all the time, it wasn't worth crying over Timothy anymore. "Im sorry to hear that, you must be taking it quite harshly." he motioned to the drink, "Speaking of, how much have you had to drink in the last hour?” Will asked as you suddenly downed the next shot as soon as it was set in front of you. You squeezed your eyes shut at the taste “about 5 ish now" you shrugged, not really caring. He gave you an 'are you serious look, making you giggle. "Come on, I'll take you home" Will handed his card over to the bartender, telling him to close both of your tabs out before helping you stand up.

As soon as you were on both of your feet the world started spinning around you, you could barely put a foot in front of the other without stumbling. At least Will was there to save you from making a fool of yourself by falling flat on your face, for that you were glad. The dizziness got a little better the longer you stood and you could at least walk without stumbling now in a somewhat decent straight line.

"Ugh it's raining, just amazing." you complained, Will smiled down softly at you, "Come on, It's not that bad right?" Looking up at him you had to pull your gaze away as you felt your cheeks get flushed. "Here, take my coat." The red head said as he placed the coat over your shoulders, the heat from it made you shudder and bury the remainder of your body into the coat which drowned you, reaching halfway down your calfs. "Thanks" you mumbled as you could feel your eyes burning, trying to kid yourself into the fact that the rain managed to get into your eyes and that they were just watering was no use, especially when you tried to hide it.

Will looked down at you as you sneakily tried to wipe your eyes, he captured your chin and tilted your head so your e/c eyes and his light brown eyes met. Using his other hand, he wiped away the remaining tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. "Just dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist." he whispered, upon recognising the slow dance that could be heard from the jukebox within the bar. "In the rain? You'll get a chill without anything to keep you dry." you laughed lightly as more rain dripped onto your face, except this time it was from Will's hair. "Why not?" He took his hands and placed them on your waist, you moved yours to around his neck and he started to move, guiding your steps.

The traffic of the wet Chicago night really just set the right scene for this, the occasional honk of a car horn in the distance, the muffled, yet beautiful melody playing from the jukebox, even the rain played its part as you apologised yet again for stepping on Will's feet again as he just laughed at you.

As the song came to an end, he brought you to his car to give you that ride that he had offered. He even left his number on your kitchen counter for when you woke up the next morning and you couldn't help but smile at the cute post-it note that contained a phone number and a little smiley face with curly hair.

[janetfraiser]

reblog to give the person you reblogged it from a good night’s sleep (maybe)(please)(I’m begging the universe)

[sande5098]

Sleep well tonight 😴💤

[sande5098]

Hello! Could you write Ava Bekker x Fem reader is could literally be anything with fluff smut and angst.:D

In the Aftermaths

Requested: Yes, by anon

Description: Ava's death ate you up and spat you back out

ships: Ava Bekker x Fem. Reader

Warnings: suicide, mental illness, distress, (If you're struggling with your mental health, please talk to someone in order to get the proper help you need).

Word count: 800

----

The call that came from Mrs Goodwin as soon as you heard about Ava was definitely the start of the end of it all. You'd done so much for her, to help her get better. You had known exactly why she had murdered herself, although it didn't make it any easier for you. When the funeral came around, not even Connor Rhodes was there, or hardly anyone from med, Adam, Kim and Kevin were there to accompany you. You knew that it was mostly because they felt bad for you but you couldn't bring yourself to care, not now, not anymore.

Weeks after the funeral, you found yourself still not back at work. The team dropped by every so often, tried to get you to come back to work or go out for drinks but you wouldn't hear of it. Instead you stayed in bed, crying. You had found Ava's diary it had the most awful of things in it, but it also talked about how much she wanted to be with Connor. Y/n knew that Ava had an unhealthy obsession with the man, probably loving him more than she did her, which was true by the way. She had also found that in her diary. It was that moment that she broke, she couldn't keep anything of Ava's anymore.

----

"911, what's the emergency?"

"Hi, I uhh think that there's been a break in in my neighbours apartment?"

"Alright, and what's the address."

"Apartment 33C on -----" (A/N: Make up your own street name. I live in NI and have no clue of US street names)

"Do you know if the homeowners home?"

"I would assume so, she's hardly left after her partner died about a month ago."

"Alright, we have units dispatched to the address"

----

"Units in the 21st and citywide, we have reports of a possible robbery at apartment 33c on -----" It was Kim who picked up the radio to reply, immediately recognising the home address. "5021 Eddie and 5021 Ida responding, be advised plain clothes officers responding."

Kim gave Adam an apprehensive look as the started the car to Y/n's apartment. "Should we loop in the others?" Adam kept staring at the road, unresponsive for a minute before finally saying no. Kim nodded and stared out the road, it wasn't long to get to Y/n's apartment and as soon as they did they could hear the commotion from outside, glass and ceramic shattering. Adam nodded to Kim as they went inside and up the flights of stairs, ushering civilians back into their homes.

Once they reached her apartment door, they knocked... no answer though it did go silent. "Y/n, It's Adam and Kim. We were called to come check up on you. Let us in please." Adam shouted in at her, another crash came from inside and that was the last straw, Kim kicked the door down and cautiously walked into the room, both of them had their guns drew. What was once a clean and homely apartment had been well and truly trashed "Y/n? are you here?" Kim asked.

"Here" a shaky voice called from behind the sofa. Kim looked back at Adam and put her weapon away before rushing to her friends side, spitting on shattered and cracked glass on her way over. "Hey N/n, what happened sweetheart?" Kim asked as she grabbed Y/n's hands, they were covered in blood, but the rest of her looked fine.

"I...I She... She never loved me Kim, she didn't love me!" Y/n practically shouted and Kim immediately pulled her in for a tight hug, tears streaming down the broken girl's face, "She never loved me and I thought she did. I'm so fucking stupid." "Y/n shhhh please, It's okay, she'd not here anymore. You can get over her, we'll be here to help you, right Adam?" "uhh yeah of course, we'll always be here for you hon."

Adam was observing the room, It was clear that Y/n must've had some sort of mental break. But who could blame her, she had lost the love of her life only to find out that the woman she loved with all of her heart never really loved her in the first place. "I don't think I can do this anymore," Y/n cried. Adam was the first to react, "No don't say that Y/n, ever. Come on, let's get you out of here."

[abbotsmohan]

What else you got for me?

[sande5098]

I absolutely love this dynamic

[sande5098]

I was wondering if you could do one where you're Ava Bekkers daughter, and you're around 14, and the episode when there's a shooting at the park you're there and you get shot, so when you get rushed into the hospital they immediately know who you're, unfortunately you're in critical condition and you do flat line but Dr Rhodes gose against code and starts doing chest compressions to save you and you do come back and you call out for your mum and he tells you that they'll get you to her, so when you wake up you're all bandaged up and you see Ava waiting for you to wake up, and she reassures you everything is alright and you scoot over letting her sit beside you in bed before you rest your head on her chest, and she promises to get ice cream and you two joke around before you both fall asleep together, and when Connor comes to check on you both he sees you both cuddled up so he leaves you both alone. Sorry it that's a long request.

Critical Condition

A/N: so sorry this took so long, let’s just say that A-Levels are a bitch and my psychology teacher is very unhelpful. I know that the millennium park shooting does take place on a Saturday but for the minute it’s a Friday

Requested: Yes, By anonymous.

Characters: Reader, Connor Rhodes, Ava Bekker

word count: 1.9K

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You hadn’t wanted to go to school that day, most of your friends were either sick or away on a school trip and without them there to keep you company, school would practically be hell. Instead, you headed for Millennium Park at least, you could get some food there or even just chill out and attempt to do your schoolwork which had been emailed to you after you phoned in sick for yourself.

Your mum was going to be at work until 6pm so you had plenty of time to relax for a little. Either way you went to the bean statue and sat at one of the empty park benches, it was till early, almost 9 o’clock meaning that there was hardly anyone there since practically all children were at school and the majority of people there with families with young family’s or children with their babysitters.

As you put your bag on the ground and took out your laptop to open up YouTube on a tab and play some music through your wired earbuds you smiled as some young children ran by you with their slightly unstable legs which struggled to keep up with the rest of their bodies. You looked back at your laptop and quickly opened up your emails to see what work teachers had given you, most of it was easy enough: Biology Chemistry, Geography, English, Maths and Computer science. While you had a lot of your harder subjects today, at least you could do the work outside of a stuffy, noisy classroom.

You settled down into your work, occasionally taking a sip of the coffee you brought with you in a flask. Distraction didn’t come easy to you, and raven after the obnoxious school bell went off at the end of each class, your friends still had to shake you out of your school work trance. You were shocked that after you had made it to 11:35 and had almost completed all your school work that your attention was dragged away from your laptop. Looking up you could see a stampede of people running towards you, many carrying toddlers, and then you heard it. The distinct sound of gun shots you felt your eyes widen and your throat constrict with your heart practically in your mouth as you closed your laptop and started to run with the crowd.

You were shocked that after you had made it to 11:35 and had almost completed all your school work, your attention was dragged away from your laptop. Looking up, you could see a stampede of people running towards you, many carrying toddlers, and then you heard it. The distinct sound of gun shots, you felt your eyes widen and your throat constrict with your heart practically in your mouth as you closed your laptop and started to run with the crowd.

You could feel yourself slowing down, stamina was never your strong suit and the crowds where pushing each other out of the way trying to get to safety. It was at that moment that your footing fell from beneath you and you fell face first onto the ground, smacking your head hard, a sickening crack had brought tears to your eyes as you stumbled to get back onto your feet again; forgetting your laptop that had flown across the ground.

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You started running again, tears clouding your vision and blood in your mouth from your heavily bleeding nose. Gun shots were still flying everywhere, the sound of people screaming and falling behind you and in front of you haunting your thoughts as you begged whatever entity who was out there to spare you today, that you would never skip school again, that you could go home and see your mum today. You were too busy in your own thoughts until you felt blood oozing down your back as you fell for the second time. Not having the strength to scream anymore you just lay there, slowly drifting off into the darkness…

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The first thing which you remembered was the sirens, all of a sudden it was loud and busy. There were multiple people standing over you in some form of uniform, your eyes wide open and you pulse racing, you could feel it everywhere. Were you… Panicking? As you thought back in your memories, noting was really coming to mind, suddenly there was an agonising sharp pain in your abdomen, crying out in terror and fear, you tried to sit up, only to be unable to. There were shushing sounds all around you, telling you it was all going to be okay. From what little you took in you could see it was red… blood? A shooting. It was all coming back to you now.

You properly looked at the people in front of you, they’re wearing blue and black with white writing, police officers were the most likely, why not paramedics? Was the shooter still there? Your breathing hitched and you could feel yourself starting to panic again. One of them lifted you into their arms and you gripped on tightly to them, trying to speak to him, he stopped, trying to listen to you. Your voice came out ragged and weak, even surprising yourself. "Tell my mum, I’m sorry". He smiled, "You will be able to tell her yourself." He said back… With that you drifted back into a dose, still accompanied by pain, screaming, sirens and beeping.

You recognised the hospital you were being rolled into on the stretcher even from the bleariness of your eyes as they squinted open. 'No no no no no... this was not were you wanted to be.' Although it didn't really matter, your mother would have found you eventually but you knew just how deep a load of shit you would be in for skipping school. As you looked around yourself you could see blood everywhere, the crimson red starting to haunt the insides of your eyelids, even if you didn't think it was there it was.

That was when you looked up at the man overhead of you, you could briefly make out Connor Rhodes, your mother's current off and on partner; although she didn't realise that you knew that. "Don't tell mum please" was all you could whisper out hoarsely before coughing up more blood, a nurse handed you a sick dish which all the blood dripped into. "We'll do what we can, Y/n". You smiled briefly but before you could thank him you felt yourself drifting off into another sleep before you could stop yourself, the shouting for a crash cart didn't even allow you to open your eyes again.

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"She's coding! Get me a crash cart!" Connor desperately shouted as he immediately lowered the gurney and threw the pillow to one side before starting chest compressions. Even though Ava and he had their spats he couldn't bring himself to obey protocol in that moment. This child was the light of Ava's life and who knows what would happen if she weren't to make it. He had to blink the tears back from his eyes as he was instructed to stand clear of the defibrillator thankfully, it only took one shock to get her back, and before he have time to think he immediately ordered that they take her to surgery to remove the bullet and sort out the internal bleeding before Dr Lanik even had the chance to berate him for breaking the protocol.

"I want my mum," he heard a faint whisper of the words and looked down at the 14 year old who looked like she was about to cry. He smiled as reassuring as he could at he, "She'll be here with you when you wake up but we've got to remove the bullet for you." The young girl nodded before the anatheisa took hold and she closed her eyes yet again... now the real work started.

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Connor watched as the E.D started to get back to normal well, whatever normal meant several hours later. The place was an absolute mess, blood even managed to find its way onto the ceiling, which he had found it hard to believe. Connor had yet to even find Ava, his colleague was so busy that they had been separated to do their own surgeries. Walking into the break room again, which had mostly been cleaned up he saw Ava. The usual happy blonde woman was collecting her stuff, getting ready to leave after getting changed out of her bloody scrubs. She had an extremely tired look on her face. "Ava?" She turned to look at him, "I'm not in the mood Connor, I want to get some sleep. I'm going home." She replied, attempting to walk out past him. He stepped in front of heralding her forearm. "Ava, Y/N is here. She was involved in the shooting."

Ava stopped and looked up at Connor searching his eyes for any type of deception, "No... No you're lying, where is she?" Connor swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth, "She's in the ICU, room 4" Ava felt her heart constrict as she pulled herself from Connors grip and ran for the stairs up to the ICU. She had never ran the four flights of stairs so quickly, the tears were in her eyes, as they ran down her cheeks and dropped onto the floor causing a slipping hazard if others weren't careful enough.

Reaching that room and looking through that window to see a child wearing her daughters features with tubes sticking out from all over. She carefully entered the room setting down her bags and pulling the chair in the room over to her daughters bedside, picking up the girl's limp, cold hand and holding it in her own. She felt like it had been hours she had been sitting there for when her daughter opened her eyes for the first time. "Y/N/N, Honey, shhhh you're okay. I'm here with you. There's no need to be frightened anymore." Ava softly hushed her, wiping away her daughters unshed tears, glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"Mom? I'm so so sorry, all my friends were going to be away and I didn't want to go to school so I went to the park.. I'm so so sorry." Ava hushed her daughter once again. "It's all right, Honey, we'll talk about it later."

You shuffled yourself over on the bed a little, wincing as you done so, looking over at your mom, she gave you a disapproving look which you chose to ignore as patted the bed for her to join you. Ava pushed herself from the chair and settled beside Y/n on the bed, "Sleep my love, we'll talk later over Ice-cream alright?" You nodded and felt yourself drifting back to sleep surrounded by your mothers love. Ava was not long behind her. It had been a very long day after all.

Connor watched in through the window and smiled softly at the mother and child who he was both deeply fond of. Just another day of work and keeping families together, including the woman who he loved.