Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey Halstead.” Adam calls as he and Hailey come back from a lunch run. “Come help settle a bet between me and Kev.”

He rolls his eyes but walks over to where the three officers are standing.

“So Kim’s giving you a run for your money but still losing on number of abductions and times getting shot but I’m thinking she’s got you on individual bullets taken. Or at the very least youngest age at being shot since she was only 23 for that booby trap thing.” Adam continues. “Kev thinks you must have taken at least one in Afghanistan to tie it up.”

Jay fixes the officer with a dull look.

Because its a general rule of thumb that he’s not okay with talking about Afghanistan.

“I told him you weren’t gonna want to talk about it.” Kim says, shaking her head.

“Just tell him he’s wrong.” Kev says. “We don’t need details just yes or no. Adam is right or Adam is an idiot.”

“Of course Adam is an idiot.” Jay says, shaking his head.

“But because I’m always an idiot or because I’m wrong about this?” Adam pushes.

“Because I was shot twice in Afghanistan.” Jay snaps, glaring at him. “And I was a lot younger than 23 the first time I got shot.”

“Twice?” Adam flubs. “Damn it. I’m sorry.”

Jay just rolls his eyes, walking back to his own desk. He hears Kim smacking Adam over the head behind him and shakes his head.

“They were both minor.” he adds without looking back. “More or less as bad as the bullet I took chasing Daniel Mendoza. And I was twenty the first time I got shot in Afghanistan.”

He sits down, starting to wake up his computer before the heavy silence alerts him that he’s said too much.

“In Afghanistan?” Hailey demands. “As in you got shot before then?”

“In boot camp?” Kevin asks.

“No.” he grinds out, hoping his tone will be enough to shut this down.

“You enlisted right out of high school.” Kim says.

Of course not. Nothing has convinced them to let this go so far why would that?

“Yep.” he confirms, opening his report on a foot chase the previous day.

“How did you manage to get shot in high school?” Adam asks.

“I didn’t.” he says, skimming what he’d written just before lunch.

“What the hell?” Kevin says.

“I grew up in Canaryville.” he retorts, starting to type.

“So did I.” Adam says. “I made it to eighteen without any extra lead.”

“You aren’t a bullet magnet.” Voight says from the doorway to his office. “And if Jay doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to. I’m sure you all have plenty of work to do.”

That does it.

A tense silence falls back over the room.

“He was eleven.” Voight adds before stepping back into his office.

Jay grimaces as twin ‘what the hell’s sound from Adam and Kevin.

Thanks Voight.

“If you’re gonna throw me under the bus like that,” he calls after the man, “Can you at least get them the incident reports?”

“You think Ruzek is gonna be satisfied with the incident reports?” Voight calls back but there’s a smirk on his face.

The asshole is enjoying this.

“I got taken hostage in a bank robbery gone wrong. It promptly went even more wrong.” Jay says, returning to his report. “Clearly I survived.”

“Today would be far more productive had I not.” he mutters, reaching for his notepad to double check something.

“Come on Jay.” Kevin begs. “You can’t drop this on us and not tell us the story.”

“Says the guy who said no details were necessary, just a yes or a no.” Jay says, finding the information he needs and entering it into his narrative.

He doesn’t hear any more questions or pleas for information but he also doesn’t hear any typing or shuffling papers.

“This is an elite investigative unit not a high school cafeteria.” Voight says a moment later. “You guys can either stop harassing Halstead for a story that he doesn’t want to tell you and accept that you’ll be looking up the incident report later or he can go work in the surveillance room and you can feel even more like assholes later.”

Everyone scrambles to get back to work and Jay breathes an internal sigh of relief.

It’s not over.

Not by a long shot.

But at least they’ve let it go for the time being.

It doesn’t come up again until he’s in the truck with Hailey on their way home that night.

“I don’t need details.” Hailey says. “You know how I feel about this. You can tell me anything or you can tell me nothing and I will love you the same.”

“I thought that was Afghanistan.” Jay says.

“That was you.” she tells him. “Anything you do or don’t want to tell me about you. As long as there isn’t some kind of permanent injury that I should have been watching out for over the last ten six years, I won’t make you talk about it.”

He’s quiet for a long time but she doesn’t push, waiting patiently for him to determine the direction of the conversation.

“I was with my mom.” Jay says finally. “It was during her first battle with cancer.”

Chapter Text

1994

Jay looks around the lobby as they walk into the bank.

“What are we doing here?” he asks his mom.

“I just need to talk to an advisor about some questions with out mortgage.” she tells him. “Hopefully it won’t take long. Can you work on your homework for a little bit?”

“Sure.” he says with a shrug, swinging his backpack off his shoulders.

“Thank you sweetie.” she says, kissing the top of his head.

He squirms away from the kiss and she laughs softly.

“Alright.” she says. “Go get to work then.”

He nods, heading over to a bench by the door and dropping his backpack on the floor.

He pulls out his math worksheets and starts working on the first problem.

But its hard to stay focused. His mom had played it cool but she’s worried.

He keeps glancing over at the glass wall that’s separating them, trying to guess how the conversation is going based on his mom’s facial expressions.

She looks increasingly distressed and he pays less and less attention to the worksheet.

He’s just setting the papers on the bench next to him and standing up when the front doors fly open and two men in dark clothes and masks walk in.

And then a loud bang sounds and he covers his ears with his hands, dropping back to the bench.

“Everybody get on the floor!” one of the men shouts and patrons start scrambling to the ground.

Jay looks over to where his mom has turned toward the lobby.

She’s looking his way as well and their eyes meet, wide with shock.

He stands up again, starting to walk toward her.

“On the ground, kid!”

He looks over to see one of the men walking toward him, his gun pointed directly at him.

“No, I just…” he stammers.

The man twists the gun, slamming the butt into Jay’s stomach and sending him flying across the floor.

He rolls to his stomach, starting to push himself up but suddenly a foot is in his back, pushing him down.

“Stay down.” the man growls and Jay drops to the floor, risking a glance over at his mom who is standing up inside the office, staring at him with wide eyes.

Then the other man is opening the door and ushering his mom and the bank man out into the lobby.

His mom tries to move toward him but is shoved to the ground with another group of hostages while the bank official is taken behind the counter.

Jay tries to inch across the ground, wanting to be closer to his mom, but the foot on his back presses down harder.

“You’re getting on my nerves, kid.” the man standing over him growls.

“I just want to be with my mom.” he whines.

The man glances over at his mom who is staring at them. Jay watches his face twist up in thought.

And then the foot on his back lifts and the man rolls his eyes.

“Go.” he says and Jay scrambles across the ground to get to his mother who drapes an arm over him.

“Are you alright?” she whispers.

He tucks his face into her side and nods.

The man moves away from them pacing around the rest of the hostages.

Jay turns to look at the other man who is harassing the tellers behind the counter, forcing them to shove money into bags.

He’s seen bank robberies on tv before, safely curled up on the couch with his parents and brother.

This is a lot more frightening.

The doors open and before Jay gets the chance to look over his shoulder his mom is being pulled away from him.

He looks up with a startled gasp as she’s pulled to her feet with the gun resting over her shoulder.

“Mom.” he calls out, causing her to glance down at him.

The man doesn’t even look down as he kicks back, his foot slamming into Jay’s side.

Jay cries out, clutching his stomach.

“Chicago PD.”

He’s distracted from the pain by a shout and looks up to see two police officers standing just inside the doors with their weapons drawn.

“Get back or we’ll kill them.” the man in front of him snarls. “Starting with this pretty lady.”

Ice filters through Jay’s veins.

They can’t shoot his mom.

The cops back up, one of them moving back to step through the door and his partner backing through behind him.

Jay doesn’t want to be relieved. Their rescue is backing out of the bank and leaving them alone with the bank robbers.

But as the cops leave, the robber slowly lowers his gun from Jay’s mom’s head and he lets himself fall back to the floor.

“Lock the door, kid.” the robber orders.

When Jay doesn’t move, he snaps.

“Brat!”

Jay jumps, looking up.

“Me?” he squeaks.

“Yeah, you. Idiot.” the man says. “Lock the damn door.”

Jay stumbled to his feet, making his way across the room.

He fumbles with the door locks for a moment before he figures out how to engage them but then he manages.

“Pull the blinds too.” the man orders and he reaches up, pulling down the blinds to cover the open glass doors.

Then he turns back to look at the man.

“Back on the floor.” the man orders.

Jay walks across the room, dropping to his knees and then down to his stomach.

The man shifts the weapon away from his mom and then shoves her to the floor next to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, staring in concern at her pale face.

Usually when his mom looks like this its the day after a treatment.

“Little nauseous.” she admits. “I’m okay, baby.”

He has to get her out of here.

He just doesn’t know how.

Chapter Text

The bank robber is on the phone arguing with the police.

It doesn’t sound like things are going well.

Why won’t the police just give them what they want to protect the hostages trapped inside the bank?

His mom is meant to be at the hospital later today for her next round of chemo. Missing the appointment could decrease her chances of beating the cancer.

He looks over at the clock hanging from the wall.

She only has two hours to get to the hospital.

“Excuse me.” he calls out, ignoring his mother’s attempts to hush him.

“What the hell do you want, punk?” the man calls, shooting a glance at his partner, still on the phone with the police.

The man just shakes his head.

“My mom has a doctor’s appointment.” Jay barrels forward. “She really shouldn’t miss it.”

“Well she’s just going to have to.” the man snarls back at him. “Nobody is going anywhere until the police make some concessions.”

“But she needs to be there.” Jay argues.

“You need to shut the hell -”

The other man cuts him off.

“Get over here, kid.” he orders.

Jay slowly rises to his feet, taking a step forward. His mom reaches for him and he turns back to her.

“It’s okay, mom.” he promises, gently brushing her hand away.

He gets to the counter and the man hands him the phone.

“Tell him about your mom’s appointment.” he orders.

Jay takes the handset with shaking hands.

“My mom needs to get to the doctor.” he says without preamble. “She has an appointment and it’s important.”

“Young man.” someone says. “I understand that and we’re working as fast as we can.”

“You don’t understand.” Jay protests. “She has cancer. If she misses chemo it could… it could be bad. She needs to be there.”

“Alright.” the man says. “I understand. I’ll try to get her there.”

“Don’t try.” Jay snaps. “Make it happen.”

He hands the phone back to the robber.

“Can I go back now?” he asks.

The man just nods, returning to his conversation with the police.

Jay walks back across the room, avoiding the dirty look that the other man gives him as he does.

As he reaches his mom, the man kicks his feet out from under him and sends him crashing back to the floor.

His mom gasps but doesn’t say anything, reaching out to wrap her arm around him and pull him closer to her.

“You aren’t supposed to be the one taking care of me.” she reminds him.

“Why not?” he asks. “I love you. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“Missing one appointment won’t kill me.” she assures him.

“But what if it does?” he asks her. “I had to do it, mom.”

“Well please just try not to upset them any further.” she asks him. “Because I don’t want to lose you either.”

He nods.

The man at the counter hangs up the phone.

“Alright.” he tells his partner, completely ignoring the hostages. “The cops are getting us our money and a car. We’ll take a hostage with us and let them go when we’re in the clear.”

“Do I get to pick the hostage?” the man still standing over Jay asks, looking down at them.

“Why not.” the other man says. “Nobody has managed to piss me off.”

The man smirks down at them and Jay glares back.

“We’re taking the woman.” he tells his partner.

“No!” Jay protests. “No way! She has to get to her appointment!”

“Jay!” his mother hisses but he ignores her.

“Who is holding a gun here?” the man asks, pointing it directly at him.

“The police only gave you what you wanted so she could get to the appointment.” Jay argues. “They’ll never let you take her with you.”

“That wasn’t the agreement we made.” the man says. “And besides, they may not even know until after we’re gone that she’s the woman they bargained for.”

“She’s sick.” Jay says. “If she gets more sick, even if it isn’t your fault, the police will add extra charges.”

He doesn’t even know if it’s true but it sounds good to him.

The man scowls at him but he pushes up, turning to look back at the man’s partner.

“Do you want that?” he demands. “You can’t take her.”

“The brat is right.” the man says, looking at his partner.

“Come on!” he protests.

“You can take me.” Jay says. “I’m the one you’re mad at anyway.”

“No.” his mother protests. “You can’t take him.”

“Again. I’m the one with the gun.” the man says, still pointing it at Jay. “I’ll do what I want.”

“Please don’t hurt my baby.” his mom pleads.

“It’s okay, mom.” Jay says. “I’ll be okay.”

“No.” she says. “I’m your mother. It’s my job to keep you safe, not to let you volunteer yourself as a hostage.”

“For the last time.” the man says, grabbing the back of Jay’s shirt and dragging him roughly to his feet. “I’m the one making this decision.”

He presses the barrel of his gun against Jay’s head as his mom starts to push herself up.

She reluctantly drops back down.

“The kid is coming with us.” he tells her, looking over at the bank manager. “And he’s going to shut the hell up. I’m going to need that tie.”

Chapter Text

Jay is sitting against the counter watching the two robbers pace while they wait for the call confirming that their car has arrived.

After he’d been dragged away from his mom the man holding him had walked him over to the counter.

Forcing the bank manager to give up his tie and pocket square, he’d shoved the piece of fabric into Jay’s mouth, tying the tie around his head to hold it in place.

One of the tellers’ tie had also been confiscated and the man had used it to bind Jay’s hands together in front of him before shoving him to the ground.

The counter is now between him and the other hostages, keeping him from seeing his mom but he knows she must be worried.

She’s also probably mad at him for arguing with the man, for insisting on being taken instead of her. For drawing the men’s attention to himself.

He’ll probably be grounded for a year but as long as his mom is okay it’s worth it.

The floor is cold and hard and he misses his mom’s comforting arm around him. Couldn’t he have sat with her until the police were ready?

The phone rings and he looks over, watching the shorter of the two men, the nicer one, pick up the handset.

“Is the car ready to go?” he snaps.

Jay squirms, twisting his hands in their binding.

He doesn’t want to go with them. The tall man is angry, has been eying him with a cold, calculating look since he’d tied him up.

He hadn’t meant to make the man angry. He just doesn’t want his mom to miss her appointment.

Tall guy kicks him and he falls still, ducking his head with a muffled whimper.

Short guy hangs up the phone, hefting his gun higher.

“Alright.” he says, looking between them. “Time to go.”

Tall guy hauls him to his feet. He sees his mom as he’s led around the counter. She’s been crying and he looks at the floor.

He hadn’t wanted to make her cry.

Tall guy pulls him to a stop by the doors, handing his gun off to his shorter partner.

Jay can’t help the startled squeak he makes when the man lifts him off the floor, pulling his bound arms up to loop over the man’s head.

He ends up half hanging off the man, an arm curling around his waist to press him back against him and his tied arms cutting off any thought of trying to pull away or ducking once they get outside.

The man adjust his hold, knocking Jay’s head back against his chest before reaching out to take his weapon back. It seems impossible for the man to hold the rifle to Jay’s head like this and the man seems to agree, slinging the weapon over his neck and letting it hang over Jay.

Then he retrieves a knife, pressing the blade against Jay’s throat.

He whimpers but doesn’t struggle against the man’s hold. The shorter man’ pushes the door open and they step out of the bank.

Cop cars fill the street and Jay is somewhat frightened by the number of uniformed men hiding behind them with their weapons drawn and pointed at the bank.

Pointed at him.

“Where is the car?” the shorter man calls from where he’s standing behind them.

“That’s it, right there on the street in front of you.” the response projects from a bullhorn. “Why don’t you let the kid go?”

“So you can just arrest us?” the man holding him shouts, digging the knife against the tender flesh at his throat. “The kid’s coming with. We’ll let him go when we’re convinced you aren’t following us anymore.”

“Alright.” the officer responds. “Can you at least lower the knife? You’re scaring him.”

“Punk should be scared.” the man snarls. “He’s a royal pain in my ass. I almost hope you asswipes try something so I can slit his throat.”

The man’s grip is slipping, Jay sliding lower down his chest and he drops the knife a few inches so that he can jerk him back up, earning a frightened squeak from Jay as he’s jostled.

And the knife hadn’t been lowered enough, the blade nicks him during the adjustment and he whimpers.

He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He just wants to go home and watch a hockey game with Will.

He wants his mom.

“Sir. If you hurt him again we will have no choice but to shoot you.” the officer calls.

“Through my human shield?” the man taunts. “You can’t shoot me without hitting the kid. I’m done with this. We’re leaving.”

Jay closes his eyes as they start moving forward. He can feel himself slipping again and he desperately hopes the man doesn’t try to adjust.

His throat already hurts and he doesn’t want to get cut again.

They don’t move very quickly. The knife is still too close to his throat for the man to take long steps without risking cutting him.

They finally reach the car and the shorter man ducks around them to get behind the wheel. But when he tries to start the car, the engine splutters and then dies.

The knife is suddenly digging into his skin again as the tall man steps back.

“What kind of trick is this?” he snarls. “You give us a car that doesn’t work!”

Jay cries out.

“Congratulations copper.” the man calls out. “You just got a little kid killed.”

He tries to press back against the man, getting as far away from the knife as he can, but the blade is still cutting into his skin.

He doesn’t want to die.

Then a loud bang cuts through the air and both he and the man are tumbling to the ground, fire burning through his stomach.

Chapter Text

Marjorie Halstead doesn’t hesitate to fly off the floor when she hears the explosive bang of a gunshot outside.

“No.” she whispers, flying toward the door. “Jay!”

She throws the doors of the bank open, ignoring the calls of startled cops as she runs toward her son.

Jay is lying on his back with a pair of uniformed officers kneeling over him.

“Jay!” she screams.

One of the officers looks up at her as she slides to her knees next to him but she ignores him, focusing on her son who’s tear filled eyes swivel over to her.

“Momma?” he sobs.

“I’m here sweetheart.” she says, taking his hand and stroking the fingers of her other hand through his hair. “I’m here and you’re going to be okay.”

The paramedics reach them and the officers back out to let them have access. She glances down to see them pressing gauze against his bleeding stomach and the laceration on his throat.

What the hell had happened to him?

“It… it - hurts.” he whimpers between gasped breaths.

“I know.” she says, squeezing his hand. “Just try to relax and keep breathing, darling. And squeeze my hand as tight as you need to.”

He nods, his grip tightening.

“‘m sorry -I - made - you - cry.” he says.

“I just didn’t want to see you hurt.” she tells him. “I didn’t want something like this to happen.”

Jay screams as the paramedic cinches the pressure bandage around his abdomen.

“Sorry kid.” the paramedic says. “You’re doing great.”

“S’kay.” Jay whispers, eyes screwed tightly closed.

“You’re losing a lot of blood.” the paramedic tells him. “We need to get you on the stretcher and can’t wait until the pain meds we just gave you take effect.”

He nods, squeezing his mom’s hand.

The two paramedics adjust their positioning in preparation of lifting him, nodding to Marjorie when they’re ready.

She brushing her finger through his hair and then they lift him.

He screams again, writhing in their hold.

“Easy baby.” his mom soothes. “It’s okay.”

He’s clutching her hand with a fiercely tight grip and tears well up in her eyes.

Her baby is in so much pain because he wanted to protect her.

He’s still breathing hard as they get him settled into place on the backboard and then lift him up onto the stretcher.

Once he’s been strapped down they immediately start moving toward the ambulance.

As Marjorie starts to follow them one of the police officers tries to stop her.

“Ma’am. We need to get a statement and your contact information before you leave the scene.” he says.

“Excuse me?” she says, eyes going wide.

“We, uh, I.” the officer, clearly a young rookie, stammers.

“Go with your son.” Another officer cuts him off. “Officer Travis, we will get her statement at the hospital. Later.”

She shakes her head and hurries to catch up with the stretcher.

“They’ll type and cross match at the hospital, of course.” the paramedic says as she gets to them, “But do you know your son’s blood type?”

“He’s O neg.” she tells him.

“Great, thanks.” the paramedic says. “We’ll take him to the Gaffney Medical Center, they’ll get him all patched up. Is there someone we can call for you?”

“I need to call my husband.” she says, glancing at her watch. “And I have an appointment at the Gaffney in twenty minutes.”

“Oh?” the paramedic asks.

“Yeah.” she says, turning her attention to Jay who still has his eyes closed, trying to breathe through the pain. “Chemo.”

“Oh.” the man says slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” she says, shaking her head. “Just take care of my baby. Please.”

“Of course.” he promises. “If you tell me your husband’s name, I can have an officer pick him up and bring him to the hospital.”

Jay whimpers, hand moving in search of her and she reaches out, taking hold of his hand again.

“Patrick Halstead.” she tells him before turning back to her son, squeezing his hand. “I’m here, sweetie. I’m still here.”

“Momma?” he mumbles.

He’s fading, slipping away from her due to the blood loss.

“Can you open your eyes?” she begs as she sits on the bench next to him, the ambulance pulling away.

It takes him a minute and a couple of false starts but his eyes flicker open.

“Momma.” he repeats, weakly squeezing her hand. “‘m sl’py.”

“I need you to stay awake, sweetheart.” she tells him. “Just keep talking to me. Why don’t you tell me about the hockey game you and your brother are planning to watch tonight?”

“Hawks playin’ F’yrs.” he says. “D’b’nsky might be back.”

“He’s been out with a leg injury.” she guesses, trying to remember.

“Back.” he says with a small grin.

“Right.” she agrees, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. “Are you excited that he’s back?”

“Yeah.” he agrees. “B’g’d.”

“How’s the pain?” she asks him.

“S’b’t’r.” He slurs, blinking slowly.

“Jay.” she says, reaching for his face. “Stay awake, baby.”

“M’ma?” he slurs, sounding confused and his eyes slipping closed.

“Jay!” she exclaims, fighting to resist the urge to shake or slap him.

“Two minutes out.” the paramedic announces as he glances over at the monitors and reaches for a cabinet.

Jay’s heart rate is climbing and his blood pressure falling rapidly.

His hand goes limp around hers.

“Jay.” she says. “Sweetheart stay with me.”

He doesn’t respond and the monitors start to alarm.

“Jay please.” she begs.

Chapter Text

His racing heart rate begins to slow and Marjorie feels her own heart stopping.

“Please.” she begs the paramedic. “Please, there has to be something that you can do.”

“I’ve done everything I can.” he tells her regretfully. “He needs an OR and a surgeon. I can only hope that he hangs on long enough to get him to one.”

She runs her free hand through her hair before returning it to her son’s face.

“Hang on, sweetie.” she begs, brushing her fingers over the soft hair at his temples. “Just a little bit longer.”

As the ambulance is screeching to a halt in the ambulance bay she hears the beeping transition to a single, solid wail.

She’s jolted into a realisation of what is happening as the paramedic leans over the stretcher, a single braced hand pressing rhythmically into her son’s too small chest.

“C’mon kid.” he mutters. “We’re here. We’re here.”

The doors are flung open and the stretcher is pulled out, the man staying right alongside it until the moment that it’s steady on the ground and then he flings himself on top, straddling her son as he continues compressions.

She is pushed back as the medical team fly into the emergency department and watches in silent horror as they disappear into a treatment room.

Her baby’s heart isn’t beating.

A nurse approaches her, guiding her over by the desk.

“It’s okay, Maggie.” she whispers. “They’ll do everything they can.”

But her world doesn’t move again until they roll back out of the treatment room and towards the double doors leading to the OR.

The machine is beeping again, showing a slow but steady heart rate.

A man in scrubs falls back as the others rush the stretcher forward.

“He’s still fighting, Maggie.” he promises her. “We’ll do everything we can. But you need to get upstairs, I know where to find you if we have updates.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond before he turns and jogs after his team.

She’s spent a lot of time in this hospital, plenty of it in this very ER, since her cancer diagnosis and she knows these people well.

The nurse gently turns her toward the elevator.

“Let’s get you upstairs.” she tells her and she doesn’t fight.

This appointment had meant everything to Jay. He’d been willing to sacrifice anything to see to it that she got there. She can’t insult him, insult the price he’d paid by missing it.

The IV of toxic drugs has been running for only a few minutes when her husband rushes into the room.

“Maggie.” he exclaims, pulling her into a hug. “Are you alright?”

And that’s what finally breaks through her walls.

“It’s not me who was hurt.” she sobs, leaning into him. “They shot my baby, Patrick. They shot him.”

He pulls her closer, doing his best to comfort her as she falls apart, wailing desolately in his arms.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there, him offering comfort and her unable able to truly accept it but eventually her tears dry up.

He pulls back slightly but keeps hold of her hand as she sniffles quietly.

“I had accepted that this cancer might kill me.” she whispers. “But I never thought it might kill my little boy.”

“Maggie.” he says. “Love, this is not your fault, not the cancer’s fault. There are a million reasons that you might have been at the bank.”

“But it is.” she insists. “We never would have been there if i hadn’t needed to beg with the manager for lenience on the mortgage. And he… he was so focused on getting me to this appointment and he kept making the robbers angry because of it. And he… he made them take him with them instead of me.”

Her husband shakes his head.

“He’s just a kid.” he manages.

“He was so brave.” she cries. “So protective and I… I was so proud of him and so angry with him all at the same time.”

“That sounds like my son.” he says with a small smile.

“Where’s Will?” she asks.

“He’s still at school.” he tells her. “He doesn’t finish up with tutoring for another hour. I’ll call Trevor’s mom and ask if he can go home with them.”

“He’ll want to be here.” she says.

“Should he be?” he says gently. “He doesn’t know what’s happened. Why not let him have a little more ignorance? Tell him what’s happening when Jay is out of surgery.”

“What if he doesn’t…” she trails off, unable to put words to her question.

What if Will needs to say goodbye to his little brother?

“I’ll ask Shannon to bring him here.” he promises, kissing her forehead. “You just rest. I know you don’t feel well.”

“I hate chemo.” she mutters. “I want to be in that waiting room.”

“I know you do.” he tells her. “They know you’re here. They’ll come find you when they have information.”

“I need him to be okay.” she whimpers, more tears welling up in her eyes. “I just need my baby to be okay.”

Chapter Text

His dad is waiting in the hospital lobby when his friend’s mom drops him off and Will rushes up to him, his hair already in wild disarray from running his hands through it.

“Dad what happened?” he exclaims. “Was there a problem with chemo? Is she okay?”

His dad frowns, putting a hand up.

“Your mom is fine.” he says. “Tired, nauseous but nothing unusual about her chemo today.”

“Then why didn’t you pick me up from school?” he asks. “Why ask Mrs. Thompson to bring me here?”

“Will.” his dad says, running a hand through his own hair and swallowing hard. “It’s Jay.”

What? Did his mom not have time to drop his little brother at home between the bank and her appointment? And now they want him to sit with his brother until she finishes? But then why hadn’t his father just picked Jay up on his way to get Will from tutoring?

“What about him?”

“There was a robbery at the bank.” his dad explains. “Your brother got hurt.”

“What?” he exclaims. “Is he okay? Where is he? I need to see him!”

“We all do.” his dad says tiredly. “He’s in surgery right now.”

“Surgery?” Will demands. “What happened?”

“Your brother was shot.” his dad says. “He lost a lot of blood before they got him here but we haven’t heard anything in a while.”

Shot?

Will’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times but he can’t figure out what to say about that. How did a trip to the bank turn into his eleven year old brother getting shot?

His dad just sighs.

“Come on, kiddo.” he says, slinging an arm across Will’s shoulders. “Your mom needs to see you.”

He nods dumbly and follows his dad upstairs. It’s a familiar path, he’s accompanied his mom to a few of her chemo sessions, but nothing about it feels familiar today.

His little brother is in surgery.

He pulls away from his dad the second he sees his mom’s tear streaked face, running to her side.

She throws an arm around him and he lets her pull him close, carefully avoiding her central line.

“It’s okay mom.” he whispers as he feels hot tears dripping onto his shoulder. “He’s going to be okay.”

He ends up climbing onto the bed next to her, letting her keep him pressed against his side while they wait for news.

The nurses come in to disconnect the IV line from her port, cleaning up and smoothing a dressing over it.

She shakes her head with a frown when his mom asks if there’s any news on his brother.

“I can go ask but they know you’re anxiously waiting for news so I’m sure they would have sent word if there was any.” she says slowly.

His mom nods, holding Will just a little bit tighter but he doesn’t complain, knowing that she needs to have one of her boys close right now.

“We’ve arranged for you to stay here while you wait.” the nurse tells her. “I know you’d like to be in the waiting room but I also know that normally you’d go home and go to bed after chemo so it’s probably easier for you to rest here.”

His mom nods, sniffling and Will leans closer.

“Dad and I will stay here with you, mom.” he promises.

“But who will stay with Jay?”

It’s another three hours before the door opens and the surgeon steps in.

The front of his scrubs are covered in blood but his face doesn’t seem to suggest bad news.

At least Will hopes he’s interpreting that correctly.

“He’s going to be fine.” he assures them. “He lost quite a bit of blood and we had to remove a portion of his liver. He’ll have a hard time for a few months but we were able to salvage enough of it and it will regenerate.”

His mom is squeezing his hand tightly but he can’t bring himself to care.

His little brother is going to be okay.

“When can we see him?” she asks.

“He’ll be settled in a room soon enough.” he tells them. “I can take you there now to wait.”

His mom doesn’t hesitate to scramble off the bed, Will jumping up to help her.

His dad joins them, tucking himself under her arm to support her as they follow the doctor through the halls.

They reach the small room, his dad helping his mom into a chair by the window. Will examines all the equipment around the edges of the room. He’s familiar with some of it because of his mom’s treatments but they’ve always fascinated him.

Then he hears the rattling of wheels moving toward them. The door opens and a bed is pushed into the room.

His little brother is deathly pale, a fine sheen of sweat over his face and his usually light, fluffy hair is soaked in it and lying flat against his head.

The doctor had said that he would be fine but he doesn’t look fine.

He doesn’t look fine at all.

“Hey buddy.” he says, taking his little brother’s hand. “We’re all here now, okay. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Chapter Text

Pat makes his way down the hall looking for the break room that the nurse had told him about.

As he walks he sees a wheelchair being pushed toward him. The man sitting in it has been handcuffed to the arms and is being escorted by a pair of cops.

At first he wonders if the man is an inmate from the nearby prison, brought over for a routine medical procedure, and is irritated that the man is anywhere near his son’s room.

Then he sees the man’s hand hover over his stomach, just below his ribs and remembers what his wife had told him.

And sees red.

“You son of a bitch!” he shouts, storming toward the man. “He’s eleven years old you fucking asshole!”

The cops step forward, moving in front of the man.

“Sir.” one of them says. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay away from the prisoner.”

“He hurt my son.” he growls even as he comes to a stop.

“Should have taught your brat not to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.” the prisoner says from behind the cops.

Pat throws himself forward but both cops grab him, pushing him back.

He’s shoved against the wall, held in place by one of the men while the other returns to the prisoner.

“Sir!” the officer holding him shouts. “I understand that you’re angry but I must insist that you stand back.”

“My little boy is in a room down the hall unconscious with a slice in his throat and a hole in his stomach.” Pat says, fighting against the man. “I owe him a black eye and a broken jaw. At the least.”

“And I would have to agree with you, Mr. Halstead.” the man tells him. “But I’m afraid that the law doesn’t agree with you and I wouldn’t like to arrest you with your son down the hall.”

Pat closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Of course.” he says, going limp. “I understand.”

“We’re all pulling for your son.” the man tells him, stepping back and offering his hand. “I’ve heard that he was quite brave at the bank and hope that he makes a quick recovery.”

Pat shakes the man’s hand.

“Thank you.” he tells him, shooting one final glare at their prisoner. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that bastard away from my son’s room.”

“Of course.” the man promises.

Pat watches as they push the wheelchair down the hallway and then continues on to the break room. He needs something a lot stronger to drink than he’s likely to find there but he’ll take what he can get.

Maggie and Will are sitting on either side of Jay when he returns to the room, Maggie stroking her hand gently through his damp hair.

“What was the that in the hallway?” she asks, looking up at him. “You sounded angry.”

“Ran into the bastard who tried to slit his throat on my way to the break room.” he mutters. “Cops had to stop me from taking a little justice of my own.”

“Oh Patrick.” she says, but he can see the slight smile on his face.

She may be glad that he didn’t get the chance to hit the man but she’s also glad to hear that he wanted to.

“Wasn’t expecting to see him.” he growls. “Then he said Jay was a brat who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. Guess I lost my cool a little bit.”

She reaches out to take his hand.

“He’s going to be alright.” she tells him. “He’s been through hell but he’s going to be okay.”

“He’s so small.” he says, reaching out to put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I never… I thought I could protect him longer than this.”

“The hardest part of having children.” she says. “Accepting that you can’t protect them forever.”

“I never wanted forever.” he says. “Just… longer than this.”

“Jay’s good at attracting trouble.” Will says with a grin.

“Will.” Pat scolds lightly.

“It’s true.” Will grumbles. “I’m not saying I don’t love him but he is.”

Jay shifts slightly, whimpering and all of their attention is suddenly on him. Pat’s hand leaves his shoulder, allowing his arm to curl around his wife’s shoulders.

Will squeezes his brother’s hand and leans forward.

“Jay?” he asks. “You with us, buddy?”

“Can you squeeze my hand, sweetheart?” Maggie asks.

Jay’s hand tighten slightly and the two share a look.

“He’s waking up.” Maggie says, her eyes watering.

“Momma?” Jay whispers.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” she says, stroking her hand over his hair. “I’m here.”

His eyes blink open, instantly searching for her and she gently turns his head until they find her.

“Yer ‘pointm’t?”

“I made it.” she tells him, shaking her head. “Now stop worrying about me, please. How do you feel?”

“C’ld.” he whispers.

“Will.” she says, looking over him. “Can you go ask the nurses for another blanket for your brother? And tell them we need the doctor.”

“Sure mom.” he agrees, jumping out of his chair. “Glad you’re awake, Jay.”

“It hurts.” Jay whimpers.

“I know darling.” she tells him, stroking her fingers over his hair. “Hopefully the doctor can give you something when he gets here.”

He nods, eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry darling.” she says, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I wish I could make this better but I can’t.”

His grip on her hand tightens and she continues stroking his hair.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” she repeats. “I’m here.”

Chapter Text

He looks up from where he’s lying on the floor on the bank.

The man is pacing around the hostages, pointing his gun around wildly. He’s angry and that anger has been directed pretty solidly at him.

He scoots closer to his mom, looking up at the spot on the wall where he’d seen the clock earlier but it’s gone. How long until his mom’s appointment? They need to get out of here.

He looks over at the doors, trying to make out movement beyond them. What are the police doing? Why haven’t they gotten them out of here? Why won’t they save them?

Then the man is looming over them and grabbing his mother’s arm, dragging her to her feet.

“No!” Jay cries out, grabbing for her arm.

A foot connects with his stomach, sending a wave of pain through him and sending him flying back to the floor.

“Jay!” his mother screams.

He sits up, looking down to see a patch of blood spreading across the front of his shirt.

“Mom!” he screams, pressing his hand against the wound as he stares after her as she’s drug toward the doors. “Let her go!”

He scrambles to his feet, running after them. As he exits the bank a shot rings out and he watches his mother drop.

“Mom!” he screams, running faster.

He skids to his knees next to her, eyes widening at the sight of the blood welling up over her right shoulder.

He presses his hands into the injury.

“Mom.” he begs. “Momma don’t go. Please.”

Her hand falls shakily over his.

“At least you’re safe.” she tells him. “Jay. Wake up.”

“What?”

“Wake up Jay!”

His eyes snap open and he looks around, seeing a darkened hospital room. His dad is leaning over him, hands pressed onto his shoulders to hold him down.

“Dad?” he asks, blinking and looking around as he tries to sit up. “Where’s mom?”

“I convinced her to go home and get some sleep.” his dad says. “Don’t you remember? She talked to you before she left.”

Jay frowns. Does he remember that?

“Would you lie still?” his dad snaps. “You managed to pop some stitches, thrashing around like that.”

“They shot mom.” Jay says, eyes filling with tears though he does stop trying to get up.

His dad’s face softens.

“It was just a dream.” he says gently. “Not surprising that you’d have nightmares after a day like today. But your mom is fine. She didn’t get hurt today, thanks to you. You did good, Jay.”

“Are you sure?” Jay asks.

“She’s at home in bed, Jay.” his dad promises. “She’ll be back in the morning to sit with you.”

“My stomach hurts.” Jay whispers.

“You going to be okay while I grab a nurse?” his dad asks. “They need to repair the stitches that broke during the nightmare and then they’ll get you something for the pain.”

Jay nods shakily and his dad run his hand over his hair.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” he tells him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

His dad returns with the doctor in tow and the man adjusts the hospital gown, peeling back the bandages to get a good look at the injury.

“Looks like three stitches have broken.” he says, glancing up at them. “I’ll numb the area with lidocaine and redo them.”

“What about pain medication?” his dad asks.

“Of course.” the man says, turning back to the tray that he’d brought with him.

He injects medication into Jay’s IV.

“Just give that a moment to kick in.” he tells him. “And you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Thanks.” Jay whispers.

“And now for the less pleasant part.” the doctor says reluctantly.

“S’okay.” Jay whispers and the man inserts the second needle into his stomach.

He grimaces but doesn’t move as the man injects fluid into several places around the incision from his surgery.

Once the area has fully numbed up the man quickly replaces the broken stitches before re-bandaging his stomach.

He steps back, allowing Jay’s dad to step forward and help Jay readjust the hospital gown and his blankets.

Neither of his parents have tucked him in for years, his dad even longer than his mom, but something about the way his dad tucks the blankets around him is soothing.

Now that the medication has taken effect, a heavy lethargy has settled over him and he closes his eyes, breathing out slowly.

“Get some sleep, buddy.” his dad says, stroking a hand over his hair. “Your mom should be back by the time you wake up.”

“She’s really okay?” Jay asks.

“She’s just fine.” his dad soothes. “Other than the minor heart attack you gave her.”

“Didn’ mean t’scare’er.” Jay mumbles.

“She knows.” his dad tells him. “She’s not angry with you. Though you might be grounded until you're eighteen. No more banks for you.”

Jay grins sleepily.

“K.” he agrees. “Was boring anyway.”

“Sleep.” his dad repeats with a laugh. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that promise ringing in his ears, Jay allows himself to drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Jay starts thrashing around again at half past eight and Pat sighs, sitting forward.

“Jay.” he says, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo, you need to wake up.”

“Mom, no.” Jay says, tossing frantically from side to side, his legs kicking under the blankets.

“Jay!” he repeats. “Snap out of it, buddy!”

When Jay doesn’t respond, continuing to fight and cry out in his sleep he stands up and places his free hand on his son’s hip, gently pushing him down.

“You’ll never heal if you keep popping stitches.” he says desperately. “Please wake up, kiddo.”

Jay screams, his flailing arm slamming into Pat’s stomach and he grunts, losing his hold on his son and stumbling back.

“Good punch, kid.” he grumbles, rubbing his stomach for a moment before stepping forward to pin his son down again.

“Jay please.” he begs. “Wake up.”

Then Jay screams again, eyes snapping open as he looks anxiously from side to side.

“No. Mom.” he gasps. “She – I – but she…”

“Your mom’s okay.” Pat assures him, releasing his restraining hold to stroke his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Visiting hours open in about *he checks his watch* twenty seven minutes and she will be here the moment she can. Probably early if she can.”

Jay’s still looking around in confusion and Pat strokes through his hair again.

“Mom.” he repeats.

“Hey.” Pat says, his hand drifting down to redirect his son’s face toward his own. “Just a dream, Jay.”

He blinks.

“Dad?”

“I know.” Pat says, offering him a small smirk. “Not the parent you want. She’ll be here soon.”

Jay’s hand comes up to rest on his father’s arm and his face twists in pain.

Pat hates that his son is still in so much pain. Hates that the doctors can’t seem to find the proper balance and dosage of pain medication to keep him out of pain.

“Just a second, kiddo.” he says, gently removing his son’s hand and then stepping over to the door to stick his head into the hall.

He manages to wave down a nurse who hurries to page the doctor.

When the man arrives he’s carrying a syringe and has a frown on his face.

“I do apologize.” he says. “Your son seems to have a higher tolerance for pain medication than normal.”

“Just give him something.” Pat growls and the man nods, injecting the medication into Jay’s IV.

But unlike the last time, the pain doesn’t leave Jay’s eyes. In fact is seems to be worse and Pat glares at the doctor as his son starts to writhe in pain.

“You’re meant to be helping him.” he snarls.

“Something is wrong.” the man says, stepping forward and taking Jay’s wrist.

Pat glances up at the monitor, the reading of Jay’s heart rate. Why is the man checking his son’s pulse if the rate is right there?

Jay screams, ripping his arm away from the man to fold his arms folding over his stomach.

“Pulse is getting weaker.” the doctor says, glancing up at the monitor himself. “And faster. His blood pressure is dropping. He must be bleeding internally. Nurse!”

A young woman sticks her head in the door.

“Doctor?”

“I need an ultrasound machine.” he orders. “Quickly.”

She hurries off and Pat looks between the man and his son.

“What in the hell is going on?” he demands, rubbing his thumb over his son’s shoulder as Jay curls toward him, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I thought you repaired the bleeding.”

“We got the major ones.” the man says. “There must have been something smaller that we missed.”

“That you missed?” Pat explodes and Jay whimpers.

“Dad.” he begs. “Dad please make it stop.”

Pat clenches his jaw.

“We’re going to.” he promises. “Just hang on, kiddo.”

A nurse pushes a machine into the room and the doctor scrambles to take hold of the wand. Pat helps him coax Jay to lie flat and watches the image take shape, wishing he knew what they were looking for.

“There’s a pocket of blood.” the doctor says, shaking his head. “We need to get him back into surgery, now.”

Pat’s hand is jerked from his son’s shoulder as the brakes on the bed are deactivated and it’s pushed away from the wall.

“Dad?” Jay says, sounded frightened as he looks around frantically.

“Hey.” Pat says, moving after the bed. “He’s scared. I’m coming with you.”

The doctor starts to protest but Jay’s hand latches around his father’s and he sighs.

“I’ll let you accompany us as far as I can.” he says finally.

Pat ignores him, turning his attention to Jay.

“They’ll get you taken care of.” he promises. “It’s going to be fine, Jay.”

“I’m scared, dad.” Jay whimpers. “I don’t want to go to sleep. What if I don’t wake up?”

“That won’t happen.” Pat assures him. “You’re going to be just fine and your mom and I will be there when you wake up.”

Jay squeezes his hand tightly and he squeezes back.

“Right here, buddy.” he promises. “I’m here.”

They make it to the OR and the doctor reluctantly allows Pat to stay while they hastily prep Jay for surgery.

It’s only one the boy is finally under that he puts his foot down.

“You’ll have to leave now.” he insists. “He’s out and you’ll be back with him before he wakes up, I promise.”

Pat reluctantly allows a nurse to usher him from the room and then wanders back toward the room.

He hears her before he sees her.

Maggie is panicked, begging the nurses to tell her where Jay is and he hurries around the corner.

“Maggie.” he calls. “Maggie!”

“Pat!” she gasps as she turns toward him. “Where is he? Where is my baby?”

“They had to take him back to surgery.” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It looks like they missed a bleed yesterday but he’ll be okay. They’ll bring him back as soon as they can.”

“Surgery?” she says, looking around frantically as if they’ll wheel Jay around the corner.

“A minor bleed he said.” he tells her, pulling her into a tight hug. “He’ll be okay.”

She buries her face in his shoulder and he can feel moisture soaking into the front of his shirt.

He buries his fingers in her hair.

“He’ll be okay, darling.” he repeats.

Chapter Text

Maggie is pacing the room, wringing her hands anxiously, when they push the bed back into the room.

It’s like time has been turned back to the previous day with his son just as sickly looking as he had been after his first surgery.

Possibly even more so.

“He’s running a fever.” Pat says, running a hand over his son’s sweaty hair.

“The second bleed was a perforation to his intestine.” the doctor tells them. “He’s developing an infection.”

“And what are we doing about it?” Pat demands.

“We’ve started him on antibiotics.” the doctor assures him. “It should clear up soon.”

Pat glares.

He isn’t sure he trusts this man with his son’s care but it isn’t like he has better options.

“Have you figured out pain medication?” he asks. “I don’t want him to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“I read an article recently that individuals with red hair have been shown to burn through pain medication more quickly. He does have the genes based on your older son and he's certainly burning through them faster than I would expect.” the doctor says. “Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as giving him more medication. I have to try to assess the rate at which he burns through it to determine how to increase his dosing schedule.”

“Do you have enough information yet?” Pat growls.

“He wasn’t awake enough yesterday to give the answers I would have liked but I have made some adjustments so hopefully it will improve.” the doctor says calmly as the nurses maneuver the bed into place and start to hook up the monitors.

Maggie steps up next to the bed, taking her son’s hand.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” she asks.

“We tried to bring him around in PACU.” the man confesses. “He didn’t respond but I wanted to give the anesthesia a little longer to clear from his system.”

She nods, carding her fingers through Jay’s sweaty hair. Pat just stares at the man.

He’s lying, Pat doesn’t know why but he is.

When the doctor turns to leave, Pat nods to his wife and then follows him.

He waits until they’re a safe distance from the room, until hopefully Maggie won’t overhear the conversation, before asking.

“I know you’re lying. What’s going on?”

The man sighs.

“Red haired individuals are also known to need more anesthesia.” he admits. “Your son already demonstrated this during his first surgery yesterday. He woke up twice during the surgery.”

Pat feels his eyes go wide and almost screams at the man but he raises his hand.

“Not fully.” he assures. “We got him under again before he was lucid but he was coming around. The point is, we shouldn’t have had any trouble waking him up in PACU.”

“Then why did he?” Pat demands.

“A reaction to the anesthetic.” the doctor says. “His vitals are stable and brain waves were good when we hooked up the EEG. He’s stable. He just… needs a little more time.”

Pat glares at him.

“He wouldn’t have been put under again if you hadn’t missed that bleed the first time.” he growls.

“And I apologize for that.” the man says calmly. “I’ve gone back over his scans from the first surgery and it doesn’t show up.”

“What are you saying then?”

“I think it was something small and minor that would have healed on it’s own without any problems if it wasn’t for the nightmares that he’s been having.” the doctor explains.

Pat nods sullenly.

He’s still angry. His little boy is unconscious with no idea when he might wake up.

His wife is already anxious and stressed which is the last thing that she needs right now and he can only imagine that it will get worse the longer Jay stays asleep.

He’s supposed to pick Will up from school in about six hours and bring him to see his little brother and it’s hard to guess how the boy will react to the updates.

And much as he’d rather stay here with his son forever, he can’t afford to take much more time off work. He has enough time off saved up for the time he missed yesterday, today and probably tomorrow but then he’ll have to head back.

He’d really like to have his son properly on the mend by the time he does. Possibly even home where his mother can care for him more easily.

Though that looks unlikely at this point.

Without another word to the man he turns and walks back to his son’s room.

Maggie looks up as he steps in with a frown on her face.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asks quietly. “More than just needing a little time.”

He sighs.

Should have known nothing could slip past his wife’s attention, especially not when it pertained to her boys.

“He said it looks like a reaction to the anesthesia. He’s not worried yet.” Pat says, coming round to stand next to her as they watch their son shift fitfully in his sleep.

Because that’s what this is, Jay is just sleeping. And heaven knows he deserves a little more of it after what had happened and the rotten night’s sleep he’d gotten.

He’s getting a little rest so that he can beat this infection and heal from the damage caused by a bullet ripping it’s way through his stomach.

And from nearly having his throat cut.

It’s been forgotten largely in consideration of the bullet wound but Pat can’t help but stare at the bandages wrapped around his little boy’s neck.

He isn’t crazy about the fact that the police had shot the hostage they were supposed to be rescuing. Surely, even with Jay as a human shield there was another shot they could have taken.

But that asshole bank robber had been slitting Jay’s throat. Without intervention, his little boy would have died a horrifically gruesome death right there on the street.

Maggie reaches up to grab his hand where it rests on her shoulder.

“He’s going to be okay.” she insists, her voice strong enough that he almost believes that she believes it.

“Course he will.” he replies, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “He’s tough. He’s our son.”

His stubbornness mixed with Maggie’s resilience will carry their boy through anything.

Chapter Text

He’d rode the bus to the hospital the day before yesterday only to find his little brother unconscious.

His parents had told him that the younger boy was sleeping and he’d taken it at face value, setting up by the window to get started on his homework.

But when Jay hadn’t opened his eyes for even a moment by the time his dad was packing things up to take him home while his mom spent the night with his little brother he’d gotten a little suspicious.

Which was when they’d finally broken down and told him that his brother had been raced back to surgery this morning and that he still hadn’t woken up.

Admitted that some kind of reaction to the anesthesia was suspected and that they didn’t know when he would wake up.

If he would wake up hangs heavily over the room but nobody is willing to put it to words.

Will had tried to convince them to let him stay the night, had even made a play for being allowed to skip school the next day but his father had put his foot down and he’d reluctantly squeezed Jay’s hand, whispering a promise to see him tomorrow before hugging his mom and then following his dad out of the room.

But when he’d reached the hospital after school the next day Jay had still been unconscious and he’d found it impossible to focus on his homework, instead staring unblinking at the younger boy.

His eyes had watered, brimming with tears that he refused to let fall, when his dad had told him that it was time to go home.

“Goodnight, little brother.” he’d whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. “I miss you.”

His mom had been openly crying when he’d hugged her goodnight and his dad hadn’t said anything when he’d held on just a little tighter and for a little longer than usual.

The next morning he’d refused to go to school and his dad had sighed before giving up and dropping him off at the hospital on his way to work.

If his mom had been surprised to see him, she hadn’t said anything, just motioned him to come over and squeeze into the recliner next to her, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“He’ll be okay.” she says and he chooses not to mention the way her voice is shaking.

“I’m scared mom.” he whispers.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” she says, kissing the top of his head. “I am too. But it’s important to stay optimistic.”

“I dreamt last night that the doctor told us he wasn’t going to wake up.” Will admits. “I just couldn’t go to school today.”

“I understand.” she tells him. “You boys can help each other catch up when he’s feeling better.”

“Think he’ll do my homework for me when he wakes up?” Will asks.

“I think as smart as your brother is that you may not want him to do your English homework.” she says and Will laughs.

“We can make a trade.” he suggests. “He can do my math homework and I’ll do his English.”

“And I’ll pretend I don’t know anything about it.” she says with a smile. “Do you want to run up to the cafeteria for some ice cream?”

“I don’t really want to leave him.” he says, reaching out to take his little brother’s hand.

Jay’s fingers twitch slightly around his and squeezes his hand.

“It’s okay, Jay.” he whispers. “I’m here, okay? You’ve been through a lot so if you need to get some rest that’s okay just know what I’m here waiting for you to wake up when you’re ready.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead next to their joined hands, shoulder shaking with repressed sobs.

“I was so mean to him.” he cries. “But I thought he was going to be okay, thought we’d get to talk the next day or I wouldn’t have called him a twerp on my way out, I swear.”

“Will.” his mom soothes, rubbing his back. “He knows you love him. He knows. Just like he knows he’s your twerp little brother. And he knows you didn’t mean it to hurt him anymore than he does when he calls you a nerd.”

“What if he doesn’t?” he asks her. “I never tell him that he’s important to me. Just that he’s annoying me. What if he doesn’t know?”

“Sweetheart.” she says, her voice stern enough the he lifts his head, turning to look at her. “He knows. He knows because he talks to you the same way but he loves you more than anything.”

Will nods but he still can’t seem to stop crying.

“Will?” a tired voice asks and he looks over with wide eyes to see his little brother’s eyes open as Jay stares at him in exhausted confusion. “You K?”

“I am now.” Will breathes, squeezing his little brother’s hand. “You scared me buddy.”

“Sorry.” Jay says, blinking and looking past Will to their mom. “Not tryin’ to. You or mom.”

“Of course not.” Will soothes, thumb rubbing over the back of Jay’s hand. “Hey. You… you know I love you, right?”

The confusion on Jay’s face deepens.

“Yeah?” he says, glancing past Will to their mother. “Course. I love you too.”

“Is… something wrong?” he asks when neither one of them say anything.

“You’ve been asleep for a couple days.” their mom says, running her fingers through his hair as she stands up. “I should probably go find the doctor.”

Jay blinks again as she squeezes past Will.

“Days?” he asks.

“I told you you scared us.” Will says with a small shrug. “But it’s okay. You’re fine now. Don’t worry about it.”

Jay doesn’t look completely convinced but he nods, choosing to trust his older brother.

Chapter Text

The doctor seems convinced that Jay is finally out of the woods.

Maggie is even starting to believe him.

Her baby’s color is improving and they’ve finally found a balance of pain medication that’s keeping him comfortable.

In fact, he’s starting to get bored.

Someone had come by from the school, dropping off his work so that he could start catching up when he felt up for it. They’d also brought what Will had missed that day.

But Jay’s having a little difficulty focusing on math worksheets and spelling word lists and Maggie doesn’t have it in her to be strict with him.

So right now he’s drumming a pencil against his papers while he stares at the television which is playing some cartoon movie.

“I want to go home.” he whines, looking over at her.

“So you can be bored there instead?” she asks gently.

“I don’t like hospitals.” he says looking over at her. “And you should be home.”

“Throwing up is throwing up no matter where I am.” she tells him gently. “I needed to be with my baby.”

“Would have been okay.” he tells her.

“Maybe I’m here for me.” she says with a small smile. “Now focus on your homework, young man.”

He grins, looking down at the page in front of him, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure out the numbers.

A tap on the door offers him a reprieve and they both look up to see a man in jeans and a worn flannel standing there.

“Can I help you?” Maggie says, standing up and moving around the bed, placing herself between the man and her son.

“My name is Aaron Randle.” he says, gritting his teeth. “I’m a SWAT sniper and I… I shot your son.”

Her eyes widen briefly but then she softens, offering him a smile.

“You saved my baby’s life.” she tells him.

“I had the go ahead to take the shot if he started to hurt him and I was searching, hoping for a better shot. But when he started cutting I … I took what I had.”

“It was the right choice.” she tells him, stepping back. “He’s going to be fine. You saved him.”

He steps forward, meeting Jay’s eyes.

“Hey kiddo.” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Jay says. “Thank you. That man, he… he wanted to kill me, before we even stepped out of the bank. And if you hadn’t have stopped him, he would have.”

“You’re a tough kid.” Aaron says, reaching out his hand for Jay to shake. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

Jay’s shakes his hand.

“Any chance you want to save me from my math homework next?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“No can do.” Aaron says with a chuckle, looking over at Maggie. “One hell of a kid you’ve got there.”

“Yeah.” she agrees, smiling at her son who ducks his head, the tops of his ears turning red.

“I’ll let you get back to that homework.” Aaron says.

“See ya.” Jay says, making a face at the math worksheet on his lap.

2024

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Hailey says, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “And that the kids brought it up.”

He offers her a small smile.

“They couldn’t have known.” he tells her.

“They knew they were pushing buttons.” she says, shaking her head. “And they didn’t seem to care.”

“Curiosity is insidious.” he says with a shrug.

“I can’t believe you got shot by a cop.” she says. “Is he still with the force?”

“Yeah.” he says with a chuckle. “We uh, actually crossed paths with him last year. Remember that bomb threat we handled that ended up in a full SWAT mobilization?”

“Yeah.” she says. “Is that was you and Commander Randle were talking about?”

He nods.

“I ran into him six months after I joined the force.” he says. “He could not believe that I grew up to be a cop.”

“Really?” she asks. “Cause everything about that story just tells me that you, sir, were born to be a cop.”

“Yeah, I was kidding.” he says with a laugh. “He wasn’t surprised in the slightest.”

“Did Will really skip school because he was so worried that you weren’t waking up?” she asks.

“Yeah.” he confirms. “We were really close until something like his Junior year of high school. Started to drift apart after that but when we were kids we were thick as thieves.”

“You guys are Irish twins right?” she asks.

“Eleven months apart.” he confirms.

“He’s a good big brother.” she says and he nods.

“Yeah.” he agrees. “He hates being reminded about this as much as anyone.”

“Your dad was really nice though.” she comments.

“Yeah.” he says. “We were actually pretty close when I was younger. I mean he didn’t coddle me, that was mom’s thing but he wasn’t above a little assurance from time to time. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that we started to clash. They got my mom into remission when I was twelve but it came back just a few weeks after I turned fifteen. He had his way of handling things and I had mine. And we did not see things the same way. We butted heads constantly and there was so much bad blood between the two of us by the time I left for boot camp. And he was so pissed at me for going.”

“Because he didn’t approve of the Army?” she asks.

“Initially.” he says. “But uh, mom’s third round with cancer started during my first deployment. Started and uh, just about finished. I made it back for the last eight weeks of her life. And his disapproval with our career choices just rolled into his anger that neither of us was there for her. And I was pissed because he was here but he still wasn’t there for her. Add to that the PTSD I was dealing at the time, not that I acknowledged it, an already tense relationship went downhill fast.”

He takes a deep breath.

“But he was there for me that week. Talked me through a pretty rough night, held my hand all the way into my second emergency surgery because I was scared.” he continues with small smile. “I miss them.”

She snuggles into his side.

“I know.” she tells him. “But they raised a couple of damn good kids. One of whom I like more than the other. But don’t tell Will that.”

He kisses the top of her head.

“I love you.” he whispers.

“I love you too.”