I recently found your account and just blasted through tease me once, wreck me twice holy moly LOL it was so good!!!! I’m already looking forward to the next chapter, whenever that may be! Until then, I think I’ll dive into some of your other stellaride fics heheh
Ahhh, welcome!! 🥹💖 And what an introduction to my little corner of AO3 to pick Tease Me Once, Wreck Me Twice 🙈
The next chapter is definitely in the works, so hopefully it won't be too long! 💖
In the meantime, I hope the rest of my Stellaride fics can keep you entertained. There's plenty of fluff, angst, protective & feral Kelly, and emotional chaos waiting for you over there 😈😏
Thank you so much for reading and for taking the time to send this. I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride! 🧡
THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE the hospital room was crowded when Amy and Erin arrived early the next morning.
Antonio, Kevin, Adam and Alvin stood near the doorway talking quietly with Kim, Sean and a hospital security guard.
Amy's eyes moved briefly over the group as she stepped out of the elevator with Erin beside her. She noticed Kim straighten slightly and caught the way Sean immediately looked toward his partner, but didn't think much of it.
Instead, she walked straight toward the security guard, stopping directly in front of him before pulling out her badge.
"Detective Hughes." She clipped the badge back onto her belt. "Can I see the security footage?"
The moment Sean heard the name, he looked back toward Kim again, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Kim caught it immediately. Without saying anything, she gave him a quick shrug.
Sean looked amused.
The security guard looked slightly caught off guard by the sudden question, but after a second nodded. "Yeah. Of course. I can take you."
Amy gave a short nod. "Thank you." She then turned and followed him down the hallway without another word.
Once in the room, the security guard sat down in front of the computer to find the footage. He pulled up the hospital cameras and scrolled back through the footage until he reached the right timestamp.
The Detective stood behind him and watched the footage.
Ross, the Officer assigned to guard the patient, sat outside the room. A few seconds later, he stood from his chair. Almost immediately, a man appeared behind him and shot him in the head.
The same man, entered the room and did the same with the patient before leaving. He was wearing a cap so they couldn't see his face.
"Horrible," the guard mumbled. "Just horrible."
Amy nodded slightly, but didn't respond. "Can you get me a copy?" She asked instead.
"Absolutely."
The door behind her opened and Amy turned to see Adam standing there. His eyes stayed firmly away from the screen. "Hey." His voice was quiet. "Voight's in the air, on his way back from New York. Wants everybody at the district in two hours."
Amy didn't need more than that.
Once she got the security footage, she headed back to the district. Having worked the case from the beginning, she already knew the players involved. On the whiteboard, she first put up the photos of the suspects they had identified in New York, each one already dead.
She wrote their names above each photo, along with the role they had played in the trafficking ring. Lastly, she pinned up the still image she had pulled from the hospital footage. The face was partially obscured beneath the cap, but for now, he was their best lead.
Amy had just stepped back to look over the board when the gate opened behind her. Hank had returned, along with Jay, Amanda and Nick.
The Sergeant glanced at the whiteboard before speaking. "You all remember Detective Rollins, New York Special Victims." He patted Nick on the back lightly. "This is Detective Amaro. They have full jurisdictional powers here. And together we're gonna end this."
Hank went over to the whiteboard, then turned to face everyone. "All right, this pedophile ring, they're desperate, well-connected and, clearly, they'll do anything to avoid being exposed. We found the body in New York, but the head of the snake is here in Chicago."
Amanda took this as a cue and stepped in. "Okay, so Bob Clinton, he is our middle man from New York. Now, MCMEC tells us that he was getting victims from a youth center in Times Square. Now, a lot of the kids were actually funneled to New York from here in Chicago, and according to our talks with Clinton, there is a higher-up. A true shot-caller."
"Now, Clinton was gonna give us a name, but he didn't make it 24 hours in jail," Nick added. "Got shanked in the showers."
"We like Lewellen for financing the whole thing," Hank said. "Amy, where we at with the shooter?"
"Well, due to the poor quality of the video, there was no match in the face recognition database. Best we got is male, white, around 5'9, dark hair, give or take 170 pounds."
Hank looked over at Kim and Sean. "So, patrol, you turn over every stone you can to get an ID on this guy," he ordered.
Amy grabbed the copy she had made of the killer's face and handed it to Sean. As he took it, he glanced down briefly before noticing the small yellow post-it note stuck near the bottom corner.
Cauliflower ear.
Kim nodded. "You got it, Sergeant." The two started toward the exit as Sean held the photo out for Kim to see.
She leaned slightly closer, reading the note as well, before glancing at her partner with a smile on her face. "I told you she's good." Sean smirked but said nothing.
Hank looked over at Adam as the sound of the gate closing echoed through the bullpen. "Ruzek, Lewellen himself, where we at with that?"
"Got to all his main accounts. Nothing stood out except a payment to an Oak Brook Senior Community. Western suburbs comes in at, like, 5k a month."
"And that's relevant how?" Alvin asked him.
Adam shrugged. "Lewellen had no living relatives."
Hank gave a slight nod. "Right, Ruzek and Amaro, go check out this home." He then saw Platt walk in. They all turned their attention to her.
"Some black badge covers, in honor of Officer McCadden." Platt handed them over to Nadia, who passed them around the room. "Ross was a husband and a father and one of my patrolmen. I assigned him to that hospital protection detail. He was supposed to be off the clock, but he needed the overtime for his daughter's tuition."
Trudy seemed very affected by it. "So when you find the animal that killed him, and for whatever reason, that animal doesn't come back alive, you call me. I'll dig the ditch."
With that, Trudy went back downstairs.
Amy, along with the rest, put the black cover on her police badge. Hank did the same. "All right. Let's hit it."
////
THE BULLPEN HAD gone relatively quiet after the briefing.
Amy sat at her desk, several files spread out in front of her as she continued going through paperwork connected to the trafficking ring. She barely looked up as Jay approached, a cup of coffee in each hand.
Without saying a word, he placed one beside her.
Only then did Amy pause. She looked up briefly, noticing him already walking away toward his own desk with the second cup in hand. "Thanks," she said simply.
Jay glanced back at her for only a second. "Yeah."
Amy didn't say anything else. She immediately went back to work. Jay sat down at his desk and took a sip from his coffee.
A second later, Erin rolled her chair over beside him.
"You know," she started quietly, glancing toward Amy across the room. "I've never seen her move like that before."
Jay looked at her briefly. "Move like what?"
Erin leaned back slightly. "At the hospital." She shrugged. "She walked in and didn't even look at the body. Didn't ask any questions either. Went straight to the security guard and got the footage."
He listened, but didn't say anything. Erin glanced toward Amy again. "She was quick. Focused." She frowned slightly. "More than I've ever seen her."
Jay shrugged. "Amy's always sharp."
"No." Erin shook her head. "This was different." That caught his attention. She crossed her arms. "I don't know." She looked back at him. "I just think there's something more to it."
For a second, Jay said nothing. His eyes drifted back toward Amy. She hadn't touched the coffee. Instead, she was already flipping through another file, pen moving quickly across the page as she wrote something down.
Erin studied him for a moment before pushing herself away from the desk. "Well." She stood up. "Just thought I'd mention it." She rolled her chair back to her desk, sitting down.
Jay gave a slight nod, offering no response.
Nadia got up from her desk and crossed the bullpen. "Sergeant?" She called out to him.
Hank looked up from his desk and stood. "Yeah." He walked out of his office, meeting Nadia halfway.
"Matilda Reeves is an employee with the Department of Children and Family Services."
She handed him the piece of paper before continuing. "I spoke with her boss. She's not at the office and she's not answering her cell." Upon hearing that, Amy and Jay got up, grabbing their jackets.
Nadia gestured to the paper. "This is her home address."
"Beautiful." Hank saw Amy approaching him and handed her the piece of paper.
"On it." Amy was already heading for the stairs, Jay trailing behind her.
Hank looked toward Antonio. "You're with them." The Detective quickly caught up with Amy and Jay.
The drive to the apartment didn't take long. Once there, the Detectives met with the building manager. He was friendly and willing to help.
They followed him down the hall. He had a huge set of keys in his hands, trying to find the one belonging to Matilda. "No pets," he told them. "Always pays the rent on time. Nice lady."
"When was the last time you saw her?" Amy asked as they stopped by Matilda's door.
The building manager had found the key and was ready to unlock the door. He paused. "Maybe three days ago." He glanced between Amy and Antonio when they pulled their guns out. He was taken aback. "Maybe she's just out of town."
"Let's find out," Jay told him, gesturing to the door. He drew his gun.
The building manager unlocked the door, the Detectives ready to move in. Amy motioned for him to move aside, before opening the door and walking in. "Matilda Reeves! CPD!"
Antonio and Jay entered after her, one by one.
Amy moved ahead, reaching the living room. Her eyes immediately landed on the woman on the floor. She was lying by the couch, bullet wounds on her face, blood staining the carpet around her head.
She was dead.
"Body!" Amy called out, holstering her gun. She grabbed her phone to call Hank. The other Detectives walked in seconds later. "We found Matilda," she said into the phone. "She's dead."
By the time Hank showed up, the crime scene was sealed. A crime scene investigator stood over Matilda's body, snapping photos of her.
The Sergeant turned to the Detectives, who were all wearing gloves, waiting for an update. "We couldn't find any other evidence linking her to Andrew Lewellen," Antonio told him. "But her computer and cell are missing."
Hank crouched next to the body, looking over the wounds.
"George worked at the youth center. Matilda works with the DCFS," Amy pointed out, removing her gloves. "Her electronics are missing, she's murdered. She was definitely involved."
Hank nodded. "Lewellen paid for her mother to stay at the home for almost fifteen years, that's almost as long as she's been working with the DCFS." He stood and turned to Amy. "I'd say you're right."
He stepped aside to make a call.
////
AMY SAT ALONE IN THE BULLPEN, another file open in front of her as she worked through page after page connected to the trafficking ring. Her attention stayed fixed on the paperwork, pen moving quickly as she scribbled something in the margin.
A second later, footsteps came from the hallway.
Erin and Amanda walked into the bullpen, heading toward her desk.
Amy didn't look up right away. It wasn't until they stopped beside her that she finally glanced up.
Erin leaned lightly against the edge of her own desk. "We found something," she said. She held the file loosely in one hand. "We're heading out now." She nodded toward the stairs. "Wanna come?"
Amy didn't ask what they had found or where they were going. She simply pushed her chair back and stood. "Sure." Before either woman could say anything else, Amy reached for her jacket, slipped it on and stepped away from the desk.
The three Detectives drove to the house and Amanda used this time to give Amy all the information on Sam and Jill Whiting and their foster children.
By the time they reached the doorstep, Amy was aware of who the people behind the door were.
Erin knocked on the front door and it opened several seconds later.
A man in his early fifties stood in the doorway, looking between the three women standing in front of him. "Can I help you?"
Amy stood slightly to the left, her eyes immediately moving past him, briefly taking in what little she could see inside the house
Erin reached for her badge and held it up. "Sam Whiting?"
"That's right."
"Chris Sepka and Sara Kleinpass." Erin glanced up at him. "Are they your foster children?"
Sam nodded once. "Yes."
"Are they home?"
"Uh, no." There was a slight pause before he answered. "They're out." Amy stayed quiet, her eyes lingering on Sam for a second longer.
Erin nodded. "Okay." She gave him a polite smile. "We'd like to come in and talk to you."
Sam hesitated, then nodded toward the inside of the house. "Um, let me just put the dog out first."
"Sure," Erin said. Sam stepped back and closed the door, silence taking over.
Amy's eyes remained fixed on the door, then slowly, she leaned in slightly.
Erin frowned. And beside her, Amanda glanced toward Amy as well. Neither of them said anything.
For another second, Amy stayed completely still, then something in her expression changed. It was subtle, but both Erin and Amanda noticed it immediately.
Before either of them could react, Amy reached for her gun and pulled it free.
Erin stared at her. "Amy—"
Amy straightened abruptly, ignoring Erin, and pushed the door open.
Amanda froze in place, visibly startled. "What the hell—"
"There's no dog," Amy said sharply. The moment she stepped inside, her eyes landed on Sam.
He was already on the stairs, moving upward slowly— almost halfway to the second floor.
He froze when he realized she was standing there. For half a second, neither of them moved, then Sam turned and bolted up the remaining stairs.
Amy took off after him immediately. "CPD!" she shouted, racing up the stairs. Behind her, Erin and Amanda hurried inside, both still trying to process what had just happened.
By the time Amy reached the second floor, Sam had disappeared into one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. She followed him without slowing down and entered seconds later.
Sam stood near the far wall, breathing heavily. In one hand, he was holding a handgun, his grip unsteady as he waved it loosely in front of him.
Amy immediately raised her own weapon. "Put it down." Sam barely seemed to hear her.
A second later, Erin and Amanda appeared in the doorway behind Amy, but neither of them reached for their guns. One wrong move and Sam could fire before either of them had a chance.
"I'm sick," Sam muttered, his breathing uneven. His eyes looked unfocused, distant somehow. "I hate that I was made this way." He shook his head violently. "I'm sorry."
"Put the gun down," Amy repeated, her voice firm.
But Sam kept talking, almost like he wasn't hearing her at all. "I'm sick..." He laughed weakly, tears gathering in his eyes. "I can't stop." The gun shifted slightly in his hand.
She knew exactly what he was doing— suicide by cop.
Erin stayed frozen behind her, glancing at Amanda for half a second. Neither of them moved. If either reached for their weapon now, Sam could react instantly.
"Sir, put the gun down," Amanda tried.
Sam's grip tightened. Then slowly, he began raising the weapon higher.
Amy fired.
The shot echoed through the room and Sam cried out as the bullet tore through his shoulder. The gun slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter.
His knees gave out seconds later and he collapsed against the wall, one hand clutching the wound as blood immediately began soaking through his shirt.
Amy moved immediately, crossing the room and kicking the gun out of his reach while keeping hers pointed at him. Without taking her eyes away from the bleeding suspect, she grabbed her radio. "5021 Sierra. We got shots fired, requesting an ambulance to my location."
Behind her, Erin finally moved.
Still trying to shake off what had just happened, she quickly stepped forward and dropped beside Sam. He groaned the second she grabbed his wrists.
She pulled both hands in front of him and cuffed him. Sam barely reacted. His breathing had become shallow now, his face pale from the blood loss.
Amanda stood frozen for another second before turning and stepping out into the hallway, reaching for her phone that was ringing.
Amy put away the radio and holstered her gun. She grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him upright, keeping one hand firmly on him while pressing the other against the gunshot wound.
A moment later, Amanda stepped back into the room. "That was Ruzek. Jill Whiting died nine years ago."
After getting Sam into an ambulance, they returned to the district. Amy didn't waste any time, heading straight to the locker room to wash the blood off her hands.
Jay looked toward the locker room as Amy disappeared inside, before turning to Erin. "What happened?"
She crossed her arms. "Well, we went to talk to Sam and Jill. Amy went into the house after Sam said he was gonna let the dog out. Chased him up the stairs, figured out he wanted suicide by cop—"
Jay stayed quiet for a second. From the way Erin was describing it, Amy had spotted something everyone else missed, reacted before anybody else and somehow managed to keep their only suspect alive.
"And stopped him," he cut in.
Erin stared at him. "That's not the point."
Jay shrugged. "She kept our only suspect alive."
She let out a breath. "You weren't there."
He frowned slightly, replaying what Erin had just said. It sounded aggressive, sure, but nothing about it struck him as unusual. Not for Amy. He had seen her make decisions under pressure before. Fast ones.
His eyes moved briefly toward the locker room, then back to Erin. "Sounds like she did her job." She studied him for a second before shaking her head and walking away.
Hank was standing by the door of his office. "Let's go over what we have so far," he said, upon seeing Amy walk in.
She went to her desk.
"All right," Jay started, standing by the whiteboard. "DCFS employee funnels kids to foster parent," he pointed to Matilda and then Sam, "who, with financial help from Lewellen, funnels kids to New York."
Jay then moved his attention to Bob. "This guy photographs and organizes the abuse." Lastly, the shooter in the hospital. "Now, is this hired muscle? The man in charge?"
"Well, we're still looking for Sara Kleinpass and Chris Sepka— believed to be abducted," Amaro said as he handed the pictures to Jay, who in turn put them on the whiteboard.
Kevin stood by the second whiteboard where they had photos of the DCFS employees. "Well, these are all the people that are in Matilda's office," he informed them. "I already interviewed about half of 'em, but none of them had a clue what she was up to."
"What about the guy Matilda was seeing?" Hank asked. "What, Gary Miller?"
"No, I got her phone records," Adam replied. "There's no calls to a Gary Miller. I checked her cloud. There's nothing there either."
"How about Sam Whiting? What's his deal?"
"He's in surgery," Amy said, leaning on her desk. "I doubt we'll get anything from him. He refused to talk."
Nobody spoke. Hank studied the board, jaw tight. "Unless we get another lead, he doesn't have a choice."
////
WHEN SEAN AND KIM called with an ID on the shooter, it felt like a breath of fresh air. The killer's name was Todd Ledbetter.
Finally.
The unit moved quickly once they had the address. Within minutes, they were outside the narrow brick building, weapons drawn as Hank signaled for them to spread out. "Take the sides," he ordered.
Amy immediately moved left. Jay and Nick followed without hesitation, the three moving quickly along the side of the building.
The alley was narrow, fenced in by neighboring houses and cluttered with trash bins. Amy was in front.
A second later, something scraped above them. Her head snapped upward. "He's on the roof!" She shouted.
Above them, Todd was running on the roof. Jay reached for his radio immediately.
"Squad, this is George 5021. We're chasing an offender through the 300 blocks of Leavitt. He's running west, along the roofs."
The three Detectives sprinted down the narrow stretch between the houses, eyes fixed upward as Todd jumped down on a car, before his feet hit the pavement and he picked up his pace again.
He sprinted down the street away from them.
Amy pushed harder. The distance between them wasn't closing. "Split up!" she shouted without looking back.
Nick broke right immediately and Jay veered off with him. She kept running straight ahead.
She holstered her weapon mid-stride as Todd reached the first fence and vaulted over it.
Without slowing down, Amy jumped after him and kept running.
Several yards ahead, he reached the side of another building and immediately grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder. She was only seconds behind.
Amy caught the bottom rung and pulled herself upward, climbing after him. Behind her, footsteps echoed below.
Jay and Adam had caught up.
She kept climbing. By the time she reached the roof, Todd was already running again.
Ahead of them, another rooftop stretched several feet away. The gap between the buildings was bigger than any Todd had crossed so far.
Still running at full speed, Todd pushed off. For a second, it looked like he had misjudged it. His feet hit the far ledge awkwardly, his balance giving out instantly as his body pitched forward.
Both hands shot out and caught the edge. He desperately tried to hang on.
Amy never slowed. Behind her, Jay reached the roof and immediately saw what was ahead, his eyes widening.
She didn't hesitate, pushing harder. Then she jumped.
Behind her, Jay stopped so abruptly the gravel shifted beneath his boots.
"What the hell—" Adam muttered beside him, equally stunned.
Jay and Adam rushed forward again just as Amy hit the far rooftop on her feet. The force of the landing threw her forward and she instinctively tucked into a roll, her right shoulder hitting the ground before she pushed herself back up almost immediately.
Todd was still hanging on, but his fingers were slipping.
Amy ran toward the edge, but just as she reached him, Todd slipped and fell. She looked down and for a split second, her mind convinced her he had landed on his feet and was already running.
"Amy!"
Her head snapped up, her eyes landing on her coworkers. "Are you okay?" Jay asked her. Adam looked worried too, but mostly stunned.
She nodded, a bit confused. "I'm good!" When Amy looked down again, Todd was lying motionless on the pavement below.
Another dead end.
Amy turned and headed for the fire escape.
As soon as she reached for the metal railing, a sharp pain suddenly shot through her right shoulder. She paused for half a second, her jaw tightening as the familiar ache settled into the joint.
The landing.
Ignoring it, she started making her way down.
By the time Amy reached the ground, Hank, Alvin and Nick were already standing near Todd's body. All three briefly looked toward her as she stepped off the ladder.
Hank shook his head in disappointment, his eyes on the body. With Todd dead, they could search his house. Hopefully that would get them closer to closing this case.
Jay and Adam joined them moments later.
Jay's eyes immediately found Amy.
She flexed her right shoulder once, irritation flashing briefly across her face before she let her arm fall back to her side.
He noticed it immediately. For the first time that day, he looked genuinely worried.
////
AMY STOOD IN THE BREAK ROOM. She poured herself a cup of coffee, ignoring the pain on her shoulder.
"Hey." Jay approached her. Once he saw the cup off coffee, he reached out and grabbed it from her, confusing her. "I think you've had enough."
She eyed him. "Excuse me?"
He let out a sigh. "We don't have to talk about it now, but what happened on that roof scared me."
"What? Why? We found one of the victims and Teddy is gonna help us." She shrugged lightly, immediately regretting it. Trying not to wince, she continued. "We're gonna close this case."
Jay shook his head. "I'm not worried about the case." He looked directly at her. "I'm worried about you."
She frowned. "You don't have to worry about me, Jay."
Jay looked at her for a moment, before speaking again. "I talked to Voight. We're off the case. We're going home."
Amy shook her head. "There's still another kid out there."
"They got it, okay? Trust me."
"I do." Jay studied her for a long moment. The problem was, he knew she meant it— she trusted him.
But standing there, watching the way her eyes kept drifting back toward the bullpen, he also knew one thing. She still wasn't hearing him.
He nodded slightly. "Let's go."
After leaving the district, Jay drove them to his apartment.
As she sat in the passenger seat and watched the city go by, Amy could feel the adrenaline leave her body. Her shoulder was aching and it was dawning on her how tired she actually was.
The silence lingered, allowing her to think about the day they had. Her mind drifted back to the case, to Sam, to Todd.
Slowly, she turned to Jay, eyes slightly wider. "I jumped after him."
For a second, Jay kept his eyes on the road. Then quietly, he answered. "Yeah." Amy stared at him and he finally glanced at her. "You scared the hell out of me."
Silence filled the car again. This time, she didn't know what to say. Her eyes moved to the road again as she leaned back against the seat.
The rest of the drive passed quietly.
By the time Jay pulled into the parking lot outside his building, Amy could feel exhaustion settling deeper into her body. Her shoulder had gone from aching to throbbing steadily.
Neither of them spoke as they headed upstairs.
Once inside the apartment, Jay disappeared down the hallway while Amy stayed by the kitchen counter, absently rubbing at her shoulder.
She reached down, removing her gun, badge and handcuffs— placing them on the counter.
A minute later, he came back holding one of his t-shirts, holding it out toward her. "Here. You can wear this."
"Thanks," she muttered, taking the shirt. He watched as she went into the bathroom, closing the door.
Once Amy stood in front of the mirror, she could see how tired she looked. Slowly, she changed into the t shirt that Jay gave her.
It reached her mid thighs and it was comfortable. Amy took off her jeans, before folding her clothes and leaving them on top of the washing machine.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she found Jay sitting by the kitchen counter. Her eyes immediately landed on the elastic bandages in front of him.
There was a hint of curiosity in her eyes as she approached him. "I got them just in case," he explained, getting up. "Take a seat."
"You don't have to help me."
Amy sat down, pulling up her sleeve. Jay looked right at her. "I want to." For a second, Amy forgot about the pain in her shoulder.
There was something in the way he said it— simple, quiet, but certain. It caught her off guard.
She lifted her arm slightly and let him put the elastic bandages on. "I wanted to try to use them less." A soft chuckle left her lips. "Big mistake, obviously."
A small smile pulled at his lips, glancing at her face briefly. "Does it hurt?"
"I've had worse."
He gave her a stern look. "That's not comforting."
Her eyes stayed on him. "It hurts a bit, but it's fine. It gets better. I just have to take it slow."
"I'm gonna make sure you do." Just as he finished wrapping the elastic bandages, he turned to her and he went still for a moment, before he pulled away. "All done."
Amy pulled her sleeve down. "Thank you."
He gave her a slight now. "How about you get some rest? You can take my bed." Jay started off in the direction of his bedroom.
She followed him. "Are you sure? I feel like I'm overstepping. You really don't have to do all this." Amy let out a small chuckle.
Jay stopped by his bedroom door before he turned to face her. "Overstep? Not possible." He opened the door, letting her walk past him. "I'll be out here, in the living room."
Amy turned to him again, nodding. "Okay." She inched closer to the bed as the door closed behind her.
Slowly she got under the covers, lowering her head into the pillow. For a moment, Amy just laid there, looking up at the ceiling.
Slowly, her body started to relax, her eyes closing. It didn't take long until she was asleep.
////
WHEN AMY OPENED HER EYES, it took her a second to remember where she was. Turning her head, her eyes landed on the window. It was getting dark out.
She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she guessed for hours. The first thing she wondered was if the case had been close.
Slowly she got out of bed, feeling rested.
Amy went to the door, not caring about how messy her short ponytail was, she wanted to talk to Jay and ask him about the case.
It didn't take her long to find him.
He was sitting in the living room, watching the TV at a low volum. His back was turned to her and hadn't noticed that she was up.
She walked up to him. And only when she was by the couch, did he notice her. "Oh, hey." He was surprised by her sudden appearance.
"Hey," she said back, shooting him a smile. Amy sat on the couch, pulling her knees against her chest.
Jay turned to face her, his eyes studying her— the loose hairs, messy ponytail, sleepy smile. "You sleep well?" He teased her, with a small grin.
Amy nodded, her smile widening. "I did, yeah."
He turned to the TV again. "I can finally turn the volume on." He grabbed the remote. "Guessing what each person was saying got boring."
She chuckled slightly as he turned the volume up— not too much. Amy let out a sigh, suddenly remembering the case again. "What happened with the case?"
"Uh, they solved it." He glanced at her. "Sam finally opened up and helped. Matilda's boss was arrested."
Amy nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
He hummed. Jay turned the TV off and faced her. "Are we gonna talk about it?"
The conversation she dreaded, but at the same time, she had told him everything about her. This was just another conversation for her. "I may have pushed myself too hard."
He raised an eyebrow. "May have?"
"I definitely did." Amy let out a sigh. "But it wasn't just that, it wasn't just the lack of sleep, it was New York, the apartment, Frank."
"What do you mean?"
She knew what that meant and she knew this wasn't gonna be just a conversation anymore. Nodding softly to herself, Amy tried to accept it. She had kept it to herself for so long, it made sense to tell Jay.
"Uhh... the rangers." Amy noticed how Jay went still for a moment as he processed her words. Of course, neither of them talked about their time overseas. "I'm gonna tell you."
Jay could see the nervousness and shook his head. "Not if you're not ready."
She nodded. "I want to tell you."
He could tell she had made up her mind. "Alright."
Amy let out a breath before starting. "I'm gonna try to keep it short and not go into too much detail. After your discharge, our unit was ambushed. We were taken and held captive, for two weeks."
Her eyes couldn't help but move away from Jay, not being able to look at him as she shared the story. She knew he would look at her with pity and she didn't want that.
"During those two weeks, I was bound, tortured, starved and they didn't let me sleep." Jay stared back at her, his jaw clenched, shocked by what he was hearing. "They played loud noises over and over. They took me to see my unit. They were laid on the ground, next to each other, their throats cut."
Amy tried to stick to the facts, like she was going over a case, but it was difficult. "A guy got behind me. He cut the rope and then... he cut my throat."
She cleared her throat, trying to focus. "I used the blindfold that they kept on me. I pulled it up and tightened it to stop the bleeding. I fought my way out and I was saved."
Once the story was out in the open, Amy leaned slightly back. It was over. She told it and didn't have to think about it anymore.
What worried her was Jay's reaction. She waited for the pity and the sympathy. That what was she got when people found out about her parents. This was much worse so she didn't expect any less.
Jay was still processing the story. He wanted to get over the shock and then respond, but he didn't know how to. So he didn't wait.
Slowly, he got up and crouched in front of her, his hands moving to her shoulders.
Amy's eyes moved to meet his and then she saw it— his expression. Besides the slight shock, it hadn't changed. He was looking at her like he had before— with admiration, with respect.
"I told you that scar was badass."
Those were the first words out of his mouth and she felt relieved— like a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.
He was still looking at her exactly the same way he always had. And for some reason, that mattered more than it should have.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
No.
Slowly, Amy became aware of the way his hands were still resting on her shoulders. The warmth of them. The closeness. The fact that all she could focus on right now was him.
( law and order: svu ; season sixteen episode seven )
season two episode seven / part one
masterlist
ONCE AMY ENTERED THE apartment, it somehow felt colder than the last time she had been there. Her body had made it back to New York, but part of her still felt stranded thousands of miles away.
She shut the door behind her and stepped into the living room, dropping her bag onto the couch. Looking up, her eyes caught on the mirror across the room, immediately landing on the white bandage wrapped around her neck.
This place was supposed to feel like home. It didn't.
She wasn't sure she remembered what home was supposed to feel like anymore.
Five years later, she stepped through that same door again.
Jay came in after her, quietly shutting the door behind him as his eyes moved over the small living room. The walls were white, but nothing on them. There was barely any furniture, and cardboard boxes sat stacked in the corner.
"We're gonna have to share the couch." Amy dropped her bag on the floor.
He looked at the small couch, then back at her, amusement flickering across his face. "That's a sacrifice I am willing to make."
She turned to him, shooting him a look. "It's a pull out."
"I can be too."
Amy walked past him, giving him a push as she let out a small chuckle. Jay laughed quietly. "I just hope I still have pillows."
He watched her head toward the back of the tiny apartment. While Amy searched through the closet for pillows, Jay found himself looking at the cardboard boxes stacked in the corner again.
"What's in the boxes?"
She glanced at him. "Rangers stuff." Amy grabbed two pillows and walked back over, dropping them onto the couch.
He nodded slightly, deciding not to push any further. Jay couldn't help but look around the apartment again. "You really weren't kidding when you said the place was small."
She hummed. "I just needed to get out of that house, so it didn't matter."
"I get that, but did you decorate it at gunpoint?" He gestured around the living room.
Amy let out a quiet scoff. "We've slept in dirt, Jay. Suddenly you care about interior design?"
He shrugged in response. "I'm just saying, I've seen interrogation rooms with more warmth."
She crossed her arms. "You can still go pay for a hotel."
Jay shook his head. "Nah. This has character.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. She stepped forward to grab her bag by the couch, brushing past him in the process. "You have terrible taste."
Jay chuckled quietly behind her. "I've been told worse."
Without another word, Amy headed toward the bathroom, bag in hand.
Once inside, she closed and locked the door, immediately reminded of just how little space there actually was. The washing machine sat crammed beside the sink, leaving barely enough room to move.
She dropped her bag on top of the washing machine. She tried not to think about how dirty it was, since they would be only staying a few days— three at most.
Unzipping her bag, Amy grabbed a pair of red plaid pyjamas pants and an oversized black t-shirt.
After changing, Amy folded her clothes and set them back inside the bag. Looking up, her eyes caught on the mirror above the sink.
For a brief moment, her fingers moved automatically to the pale scar stretching across her throat before dropping again.
A second later, she unlocked the door and stepped back out. Her eyes immediately landed on the couch.
Jay had pulled it out and set everything up, the pillows resting neatly at one end while the blankets had already been spread out.
She raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing over at him.
He looked up from where he stood beside the couch, catching the expression on her face immediately.
"Don't look too surprised."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips. "You know how to follow instructions. Impressive."
He grabbed his own bag from the floor. "Careful. Keep complimenting me like that and I'll start expecting it."
He nodded toward the bathroom before walking past her. "Try not to steal all the blankets." Once Jay disappeared into the bathroom, Amy let out a quiet breath and sat down on the edge of the pull-out.
For a moment, she simply stared ahead before lowering herself onto the couch and getting under the blanket. Her head rested on the pillow, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
It felt strange.
She knew every inch of this apartment by memory, yet lying here now felt no different than sleeping somewhere entirely new.
As she stared at the white ceiling, she remembered being in this exact position once before.
Amy sat against the couch cushions, her back pressed into the fabric as her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above.
The white bandage wrapped tightly around her throat felt suffocating. She focused on the slow rhythm of her breathing instead, forcing herself to stay grounded.
The sound of movement coming from the kitchen broke the silence a moment later. Her aunt stepped into the living room carrying a glass of water, carefully placing it on the coffee table in front of her. "You should drink something."
Amy slowly shifted her gaze away from the ceiling, but didn't move otherwise.
Her aunt studied her quietly for a moment before her eyes drifted toward the thick white bandage wrapped around Amy's throat.
"They didn't tell me much." She sat down carefully beside her. "They just said you were injured during an operation. Was there an accident? What happened?"
Only then did Amy move. She straightened up and grabbed the glass of water, taking a long sip, which burned her throat.
Her aunt watched her carefully. "Amelia?"
Amy lowered the glass slowly, staring at the water still inside for a few quiet seconds. She then leaned back, her eyes moving to the ceiling again.
Her aunt went and grabbed a notepad and a pen, placing them on the table.
Amy shifted onto her side, pulling the blanket higher as the memory faded. The expression on her aunt's face felt strangely familiar.
She had seen it countless times at the district whenever someone's eyes lingered too long on the scar across her throat.
Curiosity. Everyone wanted to know where it came from.
A minute later, Jay stepped back into the living room.
He expected some smart comment the second he walked out— a joke about how long he had taken or a complaint about stealing all the hot water.
Nothing.
His eyes shifted toward the couch. Quietly, he lowered himself beside her, his forearm brushing lightly against her back as he pulled the blanket over himself. "You okay?"
Amy stayed still for a moment longer. "Yeah, just thinking," she murmured finally. A beat passed. "You took forever."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Better." Reaching over, Jay switched off the lamp beside them. Darkness immediately settled over the apartment.
Sleep didn't come easily. It rarely ever did. Several minutes passed before Amy finally let out a quiet breath and shifted beneath the blanket.
Jay was already asleep. She turned slightly, her eyes adjusting enough to make out his features in the darkness.
Watching him there, completely unaware, she felt some of the restless energy leave her body.
Strange.
It had been a long time since simply being near someone had made her feel at ease. A few minutes later, sleep finally came.
The following morning, Jay woke slowly, his eyes adjusting to the faint early light filtering in through the window.
Out of habit, he started to shift, only to pause when he felt something warm against his arm.
Glancing down, his eyes landed on Amy's hand resting loosely against his bicep, her fingers curled lightly against the fabric of his shirt.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze. She was still asleep.
For once, her face looked completely relaxed, free of the tension he had grown so used to seeing. Jay stayed still for a quiet moment before letting his head sink back into the pillow again.
It was still early. He could stay there a little longer.
////
SOON AFTER ARRIVING at the district, Amy and Jay were sent out again to talk to Jocelyn— a friend of Erin's half brother, Teddy. They were quick to catch up with the investigation and had all the information before they reached the school.
Jay had a photo of Jocelyn on his phone and they stood and waited for her to exit the building. He kept glancing between the door and the screen, until his eyes landed on a familiar face. "There she is."
The two Detectives walked up to the young woman. She was carrying books, a bag hanging from her shoulder. "Jocelyn Cerpaski?"
She stopped when she heard Amy say her name. "Yes?"
Amy flashed her badge. "Detectives Hughes and Halstead. We need to ask you a few questions."
Jocelyn glanced between them, somewhat nervously, before nodding. "Okay."
Jay flipped his phone, showing her a photo. "Do you recognize him?"
"Yes. That's Teddy."
"You know him?"
"That was another life ago." Jocelyn looked down to avoid eye contact and pushed past them.
The Detectives trailed behind her. "Which is a good thing," Amy stated. "Ms. Bagley at the youth center said that you were doing great."
"I'm gonna graduate high school this year. Go to college."
"So the last thing you need is a friend like Teddy." Jay's words made her stop in her tracks.
Jocelyn turned to face the Detectives. "He's not exactly a friend." She pulled the books closer to her chest. "I knew him from the life."
She turned to look at Amy. "Did Ms. Bagley tell you why I was at the youth center?"
Amy shook her head. "She didn't."
"But you checked my record," Jocelyn concluded. When she got a nod back, she scoffed. "You're not talking to a 14 year old prostitute. You're talking to someone who's gonna be a teacher."
"No one is judging you," Amy told the defensive young woman. "We are looking for Teddy and we were hoping you could help us with that."
"He's not in trouble," Jay added.
"Okay," Jocelyn muttered, letting out a sigh, her gaze lowering again. "Last I heard, little Teddy's still working the piers."
"Alright. Thank you." Jocelyn gave them a nod before she turned and walked away.
Amy remained silent as Jocelyn walked away. It wasn't the defensiveness that caught her attention. It was the fear hiding underneath it.
Jay had already started walking before noticing she hadn't moved. He stopped and glanced back at her. "Talk to me."
Once Jocelyn was out of view, Amy turned to face her partner. "I don't know yet, but there's something there."
They started walking, as Jay grabbed his phone again. "I'm gonna text Erin. Let her know about the pier, tell her to meet us there."
"It's too early," Amy told him. "If Teddy still works there, he'll be there at around midnight."
He nodded slightly. "Just the part about him working there."
Amy hummed. "Let's grab something to eat. I know a place not too far from here." She picked up her pace before he could respond.
Jay slipped his phone back into his pocket and fell into step beside her. He couldn't explain it, but for the first time since arriving in New York, something about her felt... different. Softer somehow.
They walked for a few minutes before they reached a small diner— Moretti's.
Amy pushed the door open.
The small bell above the door chimed softly as she stepped inside, Jay following right behind her. The familiar scent of coffee and fried food immediately filled the air. A few customers sat scattered across the booths, quiet conversations blending with the low sound of a radio playing somewhere behind the counter.
Behind the register, an older man looked up absentmindedly. The second his eyes landed on Amy, he froze. "No way."
Amy instinctively slowed. The man stared at her for all of half a second before a grin spread across his face. "Amelia."
Before Jay could even process what was happening, the man had already stepped out from behind the counter. "What are you doing here, kid?"
Amy barely had time to react before Frank pulled her into a tight hug. To Jay's complete surprise, she laughed quietly and wrapped her arms around him in return. "Work. It's good to see you too, Frank."
Frank finally pulled back, his hands still resting on her shoulders for a second before his eyes shifted past her. He pointed toward Jay. "And who's this?"
Amy glanced over her shoulder. "My friend, Jay. We work together."
He looked between them for exactly one second. "Friend, huh?"
She sighed immediately. "Frank."
Jay smiled at the interaction. "It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand.
"You too." Frank shook his hand. He looked at Jay for a moment, his hand dropping to his side. His expression shifted as he put two and two together. "Wait. Jay. Halstead?"
The Detective blinked. "Yeah, that's right."
Frank let out a chuckle. "Your name came up once or twice." Jay turned to Amy, surprise written on his face.
Amy let out a quiet sigh. "I liked you better thirty seconds ago, Frank."
The older man laughed at her response before motioning toward the booths near the corner. "Let me show you to your table."
Amy followed after him without hesitation. Jay stayed where he was for a second longer, glancing toward her with faint amusement still lingering on his face before finally following behind them.
"Let me know when you're ready to order." Frank left to give them privacy. The menus were on the table.
As Amy slid into the booth across from him, Jay's eyes drifted around the diner. They stopped on a bulletin board hanging near the register.
Among old photographs and newspaper clippings, one image immediately stood out.
Amy.
Younger. Dressed in an NYPD uniform.
Jay let his gaze linger on the clipping a moment longer before finally looking back at her. "Frank seems pretty proud of you."
She turned to see what he had been looking at. "Oh, God," Amy mumbled. "That's still there."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Frank likes collecting newspaper clippings?"
She let out a quiet sigh. "Anything involving people he cares about." Amy grabbed one of the menus, finding the lunch options.
"So, my name came up?" He teased, a small grin growing on his face. "What was it? Once or twice?"
Amy didn't look up from the menu, a hint of amusement on her face. "Yeah, we're so not talking about that."
"You don't have to be embarrassed," he continued, ignoring her. "It makes sense. I am memorable."
She slowly lowered the menu just enough to look at him. "You're enjoying this way too much." He nodded, the grin still there.
A quiet second passed before his expression softened slightly. "So, how long have you known Frank?"
Amy paused for a second, as she thought back. "Ever since I was a teenager." She put the menu down. "Uh, like, a year before my parents were killed, this diner was robbed. Frank was beaten up pretty badly. My dad was on the case and caught the guys. Frank invited us and offered a free meal as a thanks."
"And you kept coming back?"
She nodded. "Yes. Everyday after school, after the academy, after I made Detective."
"After the rangers?"
Amy went still for a second, her gaze lowering toward the table. The humor disappeared from his face the second he noticed her hesitation. "First place I went when I finally left the apartment."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Jay studied her quietly, the weight behind those words settling in faster than he expected. "I'm glad you came here."
"Me too."
Amy's eyes drifted past him absentmindedly.
Behind Jay, a man stood up from his booth. As he moved, the silver chain around his neck slipped free from beneath the collar of his shirt.
Dog tags.
She froze, suddenly remembering the weight of her own resting in her palm five years earlier.
Just days after returning home, Amy had finally worked up the courage to unpack her bag. There, among the rest of her gear, sat the pair she had worn for years. Holding them now felt strangely unfamiliar.
After a long moment, she set them down beside her and reached back into the bag.
A neatly folded uniform came next. Then another. Socks. Shirts. Spare magazines. Toiletries.
One by one, she placed everything into small piles across the floor, her movements quiet and methodical. She focused on the routine of it. Anything to avoid thinking.
Her hand reached into the bag again, fingers brushing against something softer.
Frowning faintly, Amy pulled it free.
A black woven bracelet rested loosely in her palm. The sight of it made her chest tighten instantly.
Jay had made it for her months earlier, during one of the rare quiet nights overseas when the entire unit had somehow found themselves with nothing to do.
For a long moment, she simply stared at it. Suddenly, the silence inside the apartment felt unbearable.
There should have been voices. Laughter coming from the next room. Someone complaining about the flight home. Boots hitting the floor. Bags being dropped beside hers.
There should have been others unpacking too. Instead, she was alone.
Her fingers curled tightly around the bracelet as her breathing suddenly hitched. The first tear slipped down her cheek. Then another.
A broken sob escaped her before she doubled forward, clutching the bracelet tightly against her chest.
////
THE DETECTIVES ARRIVED at Christopher Street Pier just before midnight and split up to cover more ground.
Amy and Jay headed down the boardwalk together, blending in with the scattered groups lingering near the waterfront. Music drifted faintly through the night air while conversations and laughter echoed from somewhere farther down the pier.
"There used to be more people here at midnight." She pulled out her flashlight, sweeping it briefly ahead of them. "Probably has something to do with the condos across the street. They weren't here a year ago."
Jay glanced toward the row of buildings visible across the street. "You really know this city better than I thought."
"I've run surveillance here a few times." She shined her flashlight at the two people ahead to see their faces.
A young woman stood near a tree, next to her a taller man in feminine clothes. This part of the pier had long been a place where homeless teens and LGBT runaways tended to gather. "Hey, Rizzoli and Isles, turn that off," he retorted.
Once the Detectives got closer, they lowered their flashlights and noticed they were smoking. "We don't care about the weed," Amy told them. "We are looking for someone."
"This kid." Jay showed them a photo of Teddy on his phone. "You seen him?"
"He's cute," the man said, looking at the image. "If you find him, let me know."
Jay's expression hardened slightly, but he slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Thanks." The Detectives kept moving, stopping every person they passed and showing them the photo.
Every answer was the same. Nobody had seen him. As they got closer to the water, Amy slowed suddenly.
About twenty feet ahead, two figures stood near the railing, talking quietly between themselves. One of them had his back turned, making it impossible to see his face.
Jay noticed her stop. "What?"
Her eyes stayed fixed ahead. "Maybe we just got lucky." The two walked up to the men, their flashlights on them. "Excuse me."
The man turned to face them.
He was young, they could tell. "One at a time," he told them, glancing between them. "Take a number. There's plenty for everybody." It was clear that he was trying to flirt, but his voice sounded snappy.
The older man put his hands up, a slight smile on his face. "Hands up. Don't shoot."
Amy waved him off with her flashlight. "Go away." The older man turned and left, as she took his spot.
"You two look like you're looking to party." Teddy kept stumbling. He had taken something or had too much to drink.
As Amy moved behind him, her eyes landed on the tattoo inked across his upper back— a star. "Well, maybe we can work something out," Teddy told Jay in a flirty voice and attempted to get closer.
Jay had to push him back. "Back up."
Amy went and stood next to him again, Teddy's eyes moving between them again. "You, me and her." He removed his jacket.
Jay glanced at Amy instinctively. She hadn't reacted outwardly, but he caught the subtle tension settling across her shoulders. She had already figured out what he was only now beginning to understand.
"Well, I can be the bread," Teddy clapped his hands together, "the meat," he did a spin, "or the spread."
Amy's eyes stayed fixed on Teddy, the tension in her jaw growing harder with every word. Jay put his flashlight down. "Let's go." He grabbed Teddy's arm and pulled him along.
After bringing Teddy back to the district, Amy sat alone in the break room, a stack of files spread across the table. Jay stopped short as he was walking by and popped his head in. "Hey, what's up?"
"I keep thinking about Jocelyn." Jay pushed the door open and walked in. "It was her behavior."
"What about it?"
"I've seen it before." Amy reached into her pocket and grabbed the apartment key. "Right, you're gonna need this."
Jay held his hand up, stopping her, as he stepped closer. "If you're staying, so am I."
Her hand lowered slowly. "Jay, you don't have to."
"I'm your partner."
She sighed, putting the key back. "Fine."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Jay pulled out the chair across from her and sat down while Amy leaned back slightly, her eyes drifting toward the stack of files in front of her.
"When we talked to Jocelyn earlier, she was defensive," she began quietly. "But I saw something else too."
His brow furrowed slightly. "What did you see?"
She was quiet for a second, replaying the conversation in her head. "Fear," she said finally. "Not fear of us. Fear of something getting out."
Jay leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table. "You think she's hiding something."
"I know she is." Amy reached for one of the folders and flipped it open. "I worked a case here a few years ago. Young woman, twenty-three. Witness in a homicide investigation."
She scanned the first page absently. "Every Detective on the case thought she was holding back because she knew more than she was saying."
"But?" Jay asked.
Amy's eyes stayed on the file. "She wasn't protecting information." Her fingers tapped lightly against the paper. "She was protecting herself."
He stayed quiet, letting her continue. "She'd been abused for years." Amy turned another page. "She thought if anyone found out, it would ruin everything she'd spent years trying to build for herself."
Jay sat back slightly, piecing it together. "You think Jocelyn's doing the same thing."
Amy nodded. "I think whatever happened to her, she's more scared of people finding out than she is of the people who hurt her."
Jay stayed quiet for a moment, letting her words settle. He reached across the table and grabbed the nearest file.
Amy watched him for a second. "You really don't have to do this."
He opened the folder without looking up. "I know."
Something about the simplicity of that answer made her smile faintly. A few minutes later, both of them were buried in paperwork, the quiet hum of the district carrying on around them as the hours slowly slipped by.
Hours passed in a blur of case files, handwritten notes and quiet conversation as the two compared reports spread across the table between them.
Every file told the same story.
Fear. Silence. Withdrawal. Victims hiding pieces of themselves long after the abuse had ended.
Somewhere around three in the morning, Jay stopped contributing altogether, his eyes lingering on the same page for far too long. Amy looked up from the notes in front of her.
"Couch."
He frowned. "I'm fine."
She didn't even look at him. "Jay."
He stared at her for a second longer before finally standing. "You know I hate when you're right."
"You hate a lot of things." He shook his head and dropped onto the small couch against the far wall. Within minutes, he was asleep. Amy kept going.
By morning, the district had started filling again. Officers moved through the bullpen outside while fresh coffee replaced the stale smell that had settled overnight.
Jay had only been awake for a few minutes when Amy walked over and handed him a cup of coffee, already halfway through her own.
"I talked to Jocelyn," she said, taking a seat by the round table. "She agreed to meet us in an hour.
"That's good," Jay muttered, taking another sip of coffee. He got up and joined her at the table, his leg brushing against hers.
An hour later, Amy and Jay stood outside the small coffee shop Jocelyn had picked, watching through the window as she sat alone at one of the tables near the back.
Her leg bounced restlessly beneath the chair, fingers tightening around the paper cup sitting untouched in front of her.
Jay glanced sideways at Amy. "You ready?"
Amy's eyes stayed fixed on Jocelyn. "Yeah."
The second they sat down, Jocelyn looked between them nervously. "What's going on?"
Jay leaned forward slightly. "We found Teddy last night." Relief flashed across her face for exactly half a second. Then he continued. "He's connected to a sex trafficking operation."
Jocelyn froze. The color drained from her face so quickly it was impossible to miss. Her breathing caught sharply before she looked away.
Amy leaned back slightly, keeping her voice calm. "A few years ago, when I was still working in New York, I caught a homicide case. There was a witness. Twenty-three years old."
She folded her hands together on the table and continued. "Every Detective on the case thought she was hiding information. She reacted exactly the way you did yesterday. Everyone thought she was protecting someone." Amy shook her head slightly. "She wasn't. She was protecting herself."
Her eyes never left Jocelyn, who shifted slightly under the intensity of her gaze. "That woman had spent years building a life for herself after what happened to her. And she was terrified the truth coming out would destroy everything she had worked for."
Amy slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. "Listen to me." She placed the card on the table between them. "I don't need to know what happened to you. If whatever you're hiding doesn't help us find the people responsible, then we don't need to hear it. We just need to know who is responsible and where it happened. Call me when you're ready."
Jocelyn didn't respond. She just slowly took the card before getting up and leaving.
Amy watched through the window as she disappeared down the sidewalk. "You think she'll call?" Jay asked.
She stayed quiet for another second. "Yeah." She finally nodded. "I think so."
////
THE BULLPEN HAD barely settled back into its usual chaos when Erin pushed through the interrogation room doors.
Amy immediately looked up from where she had been leaning against the desk. Olivia stepped out behind Erin, her expression unreadable.
"We got something," Erin said.
Jay glanced between the two women. "From Teddy?"
Erin nodded once. "He finally opened up."
Amy stepped closer. "What did he say?"
"George Turner."
A beat passed. Then Amy's eyes narrowed. "Security at the youth center."
"Yeah." Erin gestured to Amy and Jay. "Let's go. We need to talk to George."
The three Detectives arrived at the youth center a short while later and stepped inside. A woman stood behind the desk and watched as Amy pulled out her badge. "We are with the police. We're looking for George Turner."
"What's this about?"
"Teddy."
Amy watched as her expression faltered, as realization dawned on her. The woman was quick to put two and two together. "He's involved?"
Erin nodded. "We think so, yes." She was visibly shaken by the case, especially since her brother was involved.
The woman had a hard time wrapping her head around it. "George? Our security guard? He's been with us for years."
"It makes sense," Amy responded. "This is a good place to recruit."
"He likes the kids. He talks to them all the time."
"Still?" Erin muttered, shocked that George had been working there for years.
Jay stood next to her with his arms crossed. "He been talking to any boys lately?"
The woman paused to think, as Amy grabbed her phone. "Oh, God," she mumbled. "One. Henry. George said he ran away a week ago."
"Is this him?" Amy turned her phone and showed the woman the photo, who could only nod is return. "Where is he now?"
The woman glanced behind them, at the TV against the wall. The Detectives turned and looked at the security footage. In the corner, they saw him.
George.
He was already heading for the exit.
The three Detectives rushed for the door, Erin pushing through it a second ahead of the others. Jay was right behind her, Amy following close after.
By the time they stepped onto the sidewalk, George had already made it halfway down the block. Instantly, all three Detectives broke into a run after him.
The street was packed. Pedestrians moved in every direction, forcing them to weave around tourists, commuters and people spilling out from nearby stores.
Erin kept the lead, pushing past people as she tried closing the distance between herself and George. Jay stayed only a few feet behind her.
Amy was falling behind. She reached for the radio at her side, slowing her pace just enough to call it in. "Detectives working with SVU in pursuit. White male, forties, southbound on 11th heading toward 24th."
Ahead of her, the crowd had finally started thinning. Without pedestrians blocking their path, George picked up speed and pushed harder toward the intersection ahead.
Erin stayed right on him, refusing to let the distance grow. Jay was only a step behind her now. George suddenly veered left and sprinted straight into the street.
"Stop!" She shouted, immediately following after him.
Jay ran out after them.
A taxi came speeding toward the intersection from the right. The driver slammed on the brakes hard, tires screeching against the pavement. Jay instinctively threw both hands out, catching himself against the hood with a sharp grunt.
At the same moment, Erin stepped into the bike lane. A bicyclist came flying straight toward her. Neither of them had time to react. The collision sent Erin crashing hard onto the pavement, the bike skidding sideways across the street beside her.
Jay barely glanced at the cab. "Erin!" He immediately dropped beside her, one hand gripping her shoulder as the bicyclist scrambled backward, still dazed from the collision.
Amy ran past them without slowing, her eyes fixed ahead. The sound of sirens suddenly filled the street.
Two patrol cars came racing around the corner, lights flashing as they cut sharply in front of George.
Forced to stop, he stumbled backward a step.
He turned and came face to face with Amy. His eyes flickered over her for only a second. Whatever calculation he made, she saw it immediately.
George lunged first, swinging hard toward her face.
Amy stepped sideways at the last second, letting the punch cut through empty air.
Before George could recover, she grabbed his wrist, pivoted sharply and used his own momentum against him. His body slammed violently against the pavement.
George groaned, trying to push himself up.
Amy dropped a knee into his back and yanked both arms behind him. The cuffs snapped shut around his wrists.
"Don't move." She lifted her head toward the sidewalk. Jay had helped Erin back onto her feet.
Erin reached toward the back of her head instinctively, fingers disappearing into her hair. When she pulled her hand away, there was blood. Amy saw the confusion flash across Erin's face.
"Jay..." Her knees suddenly buckled beneath her. He caught her instantly, wrapping an arm around her before lowering her carefully to the pavement.
Amy reached for her radio again. "Need an ambulance. Now."
Nearly thirty minutes later, Amy and Jay sat in the waiting room at the hospital, the chaos from the chase long replaced by an uneasy silence.
Paramedics had taken Erin straight into the emergency room the second the ambulance arrived. Since then, neither of them had heard anything.
Amy found herself staring at the emergency room doors for a moment longer than necessary. She remembered being here five years ago.
The thought disappeared as quickly as it came.
Beside her, Jay sat hunched forward in the plastic chair, his elbows resting against his knees as he stared absently at the floor beneath them.
For the first time all day, neither of them were moving.
"She looked pretty out of it," Jay muttered quietly after several long minutes, breaking the silence.
Amy turned her head slightly toward him. "She'll be fine." Jay ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He didn't have to say a word, because she knew that guilty expression. He was an open book.
She reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "There was nothing that you could have done to prevent that." Her voice carried enough certainty that, for a moment, Jay almost let himself believe it.
Suddenly, her phone began vibrating in her jacket pocket. Amy frowned slightly and pulled it out, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar number on the screen.
A second later, recognition settled across her face. "Jocelyn," she muttered quietly.
Jay immediately straightened in his chair, turning to her. Amy brought the phone to her ear. "Hughes."
For several seconds, she stayed quiet, listening carefully. Her expression didn't change.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll see you there." She ended the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket before pushing herself up from the chair.
Jay stood immediately. "I'm coming with you."
Amy shook her head. "No."
His brow furrowed. "Ames—"
"Jay." Her tone stayed calm, but firm enough that he stopped talking. "Someone needs to stay here until Sergeant Voight gets here." She glanced at her watch. "In about two hours."
Jay was conflicted. He wanted to make sure Erin was okay, but he also wanted to be with his partner. Seeing the hesitation, Amy stepped closer, not breaking eye contact. "Jocelyn and I are just gonna sit and talk. It'll be fine. We catch up later."
He nodded. "Alright."
After leaving the hospital, Amy took a cab downtown, arriving nearly twenty minutes later outside a small diner tucked between two apartment buildings.
The evening crowd had already started thinning, leaving only a handful of people scattered near the windows and along the counter inside.
Amy stepped through the door and immediately spotted Jocelyn sitting alone in the back corner, nervously turning a coffee mug between both hands.
She looked up the second Amy approached. For a brief moment, neither of them said anything
Amy slid into the booth across from her. "You called."
Jocelyn nodded, though she still looked uneasy. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier." She was hesitant, but pushed through. "I can't bear the thought of someone else going through what I went through."
The Detective nodded slowly. "A little boy is going through that now. If I show you a photo, do you think you'll be able to recognize the room he's in?"
The younger woman paused for a brief moment, before nodding. She watched as Amy pulled out her phone, looking for the photo. When Jocelyn saw it, she couldn't help but flinch.
At the boy who was tied up to the bed, but also the familiar room. She had been there before.
Jocelyn nodded, trying not to tear up. "I recognize it."
Amy put her phone down. "What do you remember about it?"
"I remember being taken there. We had to cross a bridge. A long bridge." She sighed, closing her eyes as she tried to remember. "I was blindfolded, but I remember the tires on metal."
"You remember the room, so I assume the blindfold was removed." Jocelyn nodded. "What did the man look like?"
"Uhh... he was white, middle aged, forties or fifties. I'm not sure."
"Would you recognize his voice if you were to hear it again?"
Jocelyn stilled for a moment. She didn't think she would have to see the photo, but listening to the man's voice? She wasn't sure if she could do that. Amy saw the hesitation. "You don't have to watch the video, just listen to his voice for a second. Maybe whoever hurt you is hurting this boy."
The younger woman finally nodded. "Okay." She grew anxious, waiting for Amy to find the video.
The Detective held the screen away from Jocelyn and pressed play. She watched the younger woman. She saw the way her eyes widened upon hearing the male voice.
She recognized it.
"You know that voice." Amy pressed pause on the video, putting the phone down. "It's the same guy, isn't it?"
Jocelyn nodded. "Bob."
"Do you know his last name?"
"Uhhh... a president." Amy frowned slightly. "He had a president's last name. I can't put my finger on it."
"Bush?" The younger woman shook her head. "Clinton, Reagan, Carter, Ford, Nixon, Johnson, Kennedy—"
"Hold on," Jocelyn cut her off. It took her a few seconds, but she got it. "Clinton."
"You're sure?"
She nodded rapidly. "I'm sure."
"Thank you for your help." Amy got up and headed toward the exit, already dialing Olivia's number. She held her phone against her ear and waited for the Sergeant to answer. "Hey. I got a name. Bob Clinton."
////
A FEW HOURS LATER, the Special Victims Unit bullpen had turned chaotic again. Detectives moved quickly between desks while Officers rushed in and out as the investigation continued moving forward.
Across the room, Olivia, Fin and Nick were already gearing up, checking vests and weapons while final details came through from patrol.
Amy sat near one of the desks, her eyes fixed on the laptop in front of her as live updates from the operation continued coming in. Jay stood beside her while Amanda leaned against the edge of the desk nearby, watching the room move around them.
Hank stepped away from the others and walked over toward her. All six eyes turned to him. "The doctors informed us that Erin can't fly."
She nodded once. Erin had told them as much after getting back from the hospital.
Hank slipped his hands into his pockets briefly before continuing. "I was wondering..." He glanced over toward Erin for half a second. "Would it be alright if she rode back to Chicago with you?"
Amy didn't hesitate. "Yes. Of course."
Hank gave a small nod.
"I wanna get her back as soon as possible." His eyes shifted briefly toward Olivia and the others getting ready near the doors. "If we get Clinton..." He looked back at her. "You two leave tonight."
After glancing at her watch, Amy nodded. "Alright."
Then Hank straightened and gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. "I appreciate it."
Olivia then called from across the room. "Sergeant Voight, we're moving."
Hank turned immediately. Without another word, he joined Olivia, Fin and Nick as the four of them headed straight for the elevator.
The bullpen suddenly felt quieter once they were gone. Amanda exhaled softly and leaned back against the desk. "Now we wait."
Amy stared at the laptop screen for another few seconds before finally pushing herself up from the chair. "I'm getting coffee."
Neither of them looked surprised. Jay nodded slightly. "Grab me one?"
Amy glanced at him briefly. "Sure." Without another word, she turned and disappeared toward the break room.
For a moment, silence settled over the desk again. Amanda shifted slightly, watching Amy disappear around the corner before turning her attention toward Jay. "You two seem close."
Jay looked over at her, caught slightly off guard. "We're partners."
Amanda nodded slowly. "Erin mentioned you served together."
"Yeah." Jay shifted his weight slightly against the desk. "Army Rangers."
"That explains it."
He frowned. "Explains what?"
Amanda gestured vaguely toward the break room Amy had disappeared into. "The way you look at her."
The words hit harder than Jay expected. For half a second, he said nothing. Instinctively, his mind drifted backward.
Dust.
Heat.
Afghanistan.
Amy laughing quietly beside him late at night after a fourteen-hour patrol.
The first time he realized he was paying more attention to her than he should have. The first time he knew he was in trouble. He had buried those feelings when everything fell apart.
Or at least he thought he had.
Then she had walked back into his life in Chicago...
...and nothing had changed.
Jay forced himself back to the present and looked at Amanda. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Amanda studied him for another second. She didn't look convinced. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Okay."
Before Jay could respond, Amy returned carrying two cups of coffee. She walked over and handed one to him.
Amanda glanced briefly between the two of them. Then she simply took a step back and folded her arms. Still smiling faintly.
Before Jay could say anything, her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket.
The Detective pulled it out and quickly glanced at the screen. The amusement immediately disappeared from her face.
"Fin," she muttered, already slipping the phone away. She looked toward the laptop sitting on the desk. "They found the location. They're moving in now."
Instantly, all three of them turned their attention toward the screen.
Henry was sitting on the bed, as he had been all day. The man moved toward him with his back to the camera, as the young boy attempted to move away from him, scared.
Amy slowly set her own coffee down on the desk without taking a sip. Jay stepped closer beside her, his shoulder brushing lightly against hers as all three Detectives watched the operation unfold in complete silence.
Just then, a loud bang could be heard.
"Freeze! Turn around! Get your hands up!" The man was forced to turn, revealing his face. The camera fell and they watched as Hank forced the man down, cuffing him.
////
THE APARTMENT WAS SILENT when Amy stepped inside later that night. For a moment, she stayed by the door, listening to nothing but the faint hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen.
After everything that had happened that day, the sudden quiet felt strange.
She pulled the door shut behind her and slowly let her eyes wander across the apartment.
Then they landed in the far corner of the living room. The boxes. And she remembered that day like it was yesterday.
The day she decided to pack everything away. The apartment looked exactly the same. Only then, the silence had felt heavier.
Amy knelt on the floor in front of an open cardboard box, methodically folding pieces of her old life away one by one.
A uniform. Combat boots. A weathered patrol cap. A faded Ranger patch.
She placed each item inside carefully, her movements slow and deliberate. Not once letting herself stop long enough to think.
Another box sat open beside her.
Photographs. Field notebooks. Dog tags resting against the hardwood floor beside her knee. She reached for the roll of tape beside her and pulled a strip across the top of the first box.
The sharp sound cut through the apartment.
Then another strip.
And another.
Until it was sealed shut. Hidden away.
One box after another, each taped shut and pushed to the side.
Amy blinked once, the memory disappearing as quickly as it had come. For another moment, she simply stood there.
Then she crossed the room.
Without hesitation, she crouched down and gripped the first box firmly in both hands. It was heavier than she remembered. She carried it toward the door.
Then came back for the second.
And the third.
Several trips later, the trunk of her car stood open in the parking lot below.
Amy carefully set the final box inside and stood there for a second, staring down at everything she had spent years pretending didn't exist.
Then quietly, she closed the trunk.
A few minutes later, headlights cut through the empty New York streets as Amy pulled away from the apartment building for what would likely be the last time.
Erin sat in the passenger seat beside her, noticeably quieter than usual, the bandage near the back of her head still visible beneath strands of brown hair.
Neither of them spoke during the drive.
Ten minutes later, Amy slowed the car to a stop outside a familiar building tucked between two dark storefronts.
Moretti's.
She killed the engine and reached for the door handle. Erin frowned slightly. "Be right back," Amy told her before stepping out and closing the door, disappearing into the diner.
The bell above the door chimed softly as Amy stepped inside, alerting Frank, who stood behind the counter. Looking around, the Detective noticed there were barely any people.
Frank looked up immediately from where he had been wiping down the counter. "Well, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight." He looked tired, most likely having worked all day.
Amy walked over, reaching into her pocket. "I need a favor." Without hesitation, she set her apartment key on the counter between them.
Frank looked down at it. She nodded toward the street outside. "I'm leaving tonight. That's the key to my apartment. I was hoping you could hold onto them for me."
The older man nodded, giving her a soft smile. "Of course, Amelia." He grabbed the key, slipping it into the pocket on his apron. "Let me pack you and your friend something for the road."
Amy was about to decline the offer, but stopped when Frank held his hand up. "It's the least I can do." She didn't respond, watching him grab two sandwiches. "Are you coming back?"
"I don't know," she answered quietly after a brief pause.
He put the sandwiches into a plastic bag, handing it to her. "You're always welcome here."
She gave him a nod, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Thanks, Frank." Amy was ready to turn and leave, but something pulled her back. It didn't feel right.
She reached out and pulled the older man into a hug. Frank didn't hesitate and wrapped his arms around her, almost protectively. As they pulled away, Amy gave him one last smile before turning away and leaving.
She slid back behind the wheel and handed the bag to Erin before starting the engine again. "Eat."
Erin glanced down at the bag, then back at her. "I'm not hungry."
Amy pulled away from the curb, eyes fixed on the road ahead. For several quiet seconds, she said nothing. "Yes, you are."
Erin frowned. "How would you know?"
Amy's voice stayed calm. "Because I know what hunger looks like." The answer came so quickly, so matter-of-factly, that Erin went completely still.
Something about the way Amy had said it made it impossible to argue.
No irritation.
No teasing.
No casual observation.
Just certainty.
Erin slowly looked back down at the bag sitting in her lap. After a moment, she opened it. Beside her, Amy said nothing.
Outside, the lights of New York slowly disappeared behind them as the highway stretched ahead into the darkness.
And without another word, Amy began the long drive back to Chicago.
Sarah had moved on from being a widow. It wasn't her choice when she was a kid and after James had woken her up, after the last battle with the Avengers, Sarah now used her hands to heal instead of hurt...in Chicago. Not New York. New York hurt to much after loosing Natasha. Despite James and Yelena both being in New York (it was still so weird that her big sister and the man who raised her were still working together.)
But Maggie didn't know Sarah avoided the city like the plague, and had volunteered the brunette, April, and herself to go help Bellevue when Goodwin asked.
So that's how she wound up in New York when Spider-Man was brought in by a man all dressed in black. With a bullet wound and very nearly on his death bed. April and Maggie didn't quite understand why Sarah sat vigil beside the man who introduced himself as Frank, who only let her sit when she had finally convinced him that she knew Spider-Man. Nor did she really. At least not until they had to cut him out of the suit and she saw it was a kid, that couldn't be more than twenty-three.
Looking at his curly hair and young face, in her head, she saw another image of him, bruised and battered that she knew had to be from the battle with Thanos. She heard an even younger voice say: "Hi, I'm Peter Parker."
Instantly her memories came rushing back to her. She knew Peter. She had helped him and his aunt get back on their feet after the snap, even helped out with F.E.A.S.T from time to time. (and if he needed it in extreme cases backed him up in the field as the Black Widow. But those were extreme, extreme circumstances. After all, she was retired. ) But where had he been for the last five years? Sarah couldn't remember. But wait that wasn't right because she remembered Spider-Man being around. But shouldn't she also have memories of Peter too?
Her answers came when he woke up. After she scolded him for taking off his oxygen mask, with wide eyes, he gasped out:
"You remember me?"
"The way you say that...makes me wonder if my memories of you, not Spider-Man, the last five years being non exsistent, isn't just a me problem." Sarah said with a raised eyebrow. Like a little brother with his hand caught in the cookie jar, Peter's eyes dropped to his hands.
"Dr. Strange had to cast a spell to make everyone forget me," He said sounding ever bit as small as the teenager he was when they met.
Hands clenched into fists where Peter couldn't see them, Sarah asked, "Why would he do that?"
"People had to forget Peter Parker." He said quietly.
Long story short, Sarah fought the urge to come out of retirement and go down to the Wizard's sanctum, and kick him in the face.
The new chapter of Made Your Mark on Me is coming. I just…got some really bad news and experienced a block when writing. So if anyone has a fluffy prompts for Rheese? Send them my way bc I still want to write, I just can’t write anything to heavy rn.
