Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 1 - Feb 14

Jay had only started noticing his hearing getting worse after he left the army. He chalked it up to the unfamiliar environment. He felt like he wasn’t used to everything being so quiet, more used to daily firefights, and explosions. His hearing was completely fine, while getting dull, before the humvee accident. His eardrums were blown, saving Mouse without really being able to hear anything properly. Everything sounded like being underwater with noise cancelling headphones on. After the accident there was always a ringing in his ears. Now he was lying on the ground of an abandoned warehouse after chasing down a serial bomber, hearing that ringing again.

He could feel the heat searing through his skin, pain shooting through his ribs, and blood pouring down his ear and neck. He wiggled his fingers, wincing at the sudden crack of pain, like lightning radiating through his fingers all the way through his spine down to his legs. Ignoring his body, he attempted standing up, trying to mask the agony from himself through deep breaths through his clamped teeth. His hand, stained scarlet from blood seeping out of shrapnel wounds, pushed his body off the ground, being implanted with little pieces of cement, slicing the skin. He would have gone farther if he hadn’t felt the excruciating pain of his broken leg. He had only now looked down, finding his bone sticking right out above his knee, cutting his jeans with a knife of bone. He slid himself down back to the ground, ripping his bulletproof vest on the concrete wall. He hoped he was safe here, beneath the low rumble of the environment around him, flames threatening to engulf him.

He had the bomber right in his sights before the explosion. Now Jay just needed to figure out where he was from here. The vertigo kept him dizzy, his eyes focused, but his mind spinning. Clicking the side of his radio, he called in what he knew. “5021 George, Bomber headed for the west end of the building…” Jay felt the vibrations in his throat, but couldn’t hear the words he spoke, only the grumbles. He clicked the radio again, “I can’t, I’m injured, I need an ambo, I can’t… I’m on the west side of the building… I think..” Jay knew his pain was obvious, he couldn’t hear the groans he was letting escape his mouth, but he knew they were escaping, so they would be heard over the radio, if his calls were even getting through.

Jay took this time to do an injury assessment on himself. He’d been through too many missions with so many injuries, he made up an injury assessment for himself that was somewhat based on the Mankoski scale, and told Will about it too. Now, whenever he had physical, or mental pain, they would go through his assessment. 0-3 being minimal pain and could be masked, 4-7 being pain that he couldn’t ignore, 8-10 being somewhere in the unbearable region, and for mental, this would be equivalent to, “I was back in afghanistan”. While it wasn’t really medically accurate, Will appreciated that Jay was willing to look after himself a little bit.

Jay started with his feet, and wiggled his toes as much as he could in his work boots, they seemed alright, which was surprising for the left leg, considering. Next was his shins and knees. His left leg was fine, but his right knee was in excruciating pain and he couldn't bend it. His breathing was hitched, trying to keep focused, his pelvis seemed alright, slight pain, then he got to his ribs. He felt like he’d been shot 20 times to the vest. It wasn’t the worst of his pain at the moment, but it certainly wasn’t helping, not like any of this situation was. Now it was his arms, he checked his shoulder, not noticing anything too bad, mostly small bits of shrapnel here and there, and it hurt, like he had just fired his weapon, not his hand gun, but a rifle. The rest of his arm was cut and bleeding, explaining why his hands were so wet. He also seemed to have a couple of broken fingers, pointer and middle on his left hand, at least he still had his shooting hand. He took his right hand up to his neck, feeling around for anything, he didn’t notice much until he got to his right ear. There was a piece of metal sticking out slightly, with blood pooling beneath it.

“Fuck..” he gasped.

Pushing on the radio he called out. “Sarge… There’s a piece… of metal in… my neck, below my ear. Gagh, FUCK…”

The pain in his chest suddenly caught up with him and tried to take some breaths between the pain. He wished Voight was there with him, or Will. Maybe even Ruzek. Voight was an ass a lot, but there was some fatherly thing going on from him to the rest of the team. He took injuries seriously, especially when Jay didn’t. All the times Voight dragged him to see Will at the ED after he took a shot to the vest, or got caught in a fist fight, with punches to the head, or even that one time he slipped down the stairs at an offender's house.

“Sarge..?” Jay cried desperately. He could bear the pain to an extent. But it had been a long time since he saw the rest of the team. Hailey and him had split when they started running after they found the guy, was Hailey okay? Was the guy dead? Where was Hailey when the explosion had gone off?

Jay’s breathing stopped when he felt the radio go off. He didn’t know who it was, or what was said, but he felt the vibrations of the words. He smiled slightly, knowing he wasn’t alone, really. But he was alone, with big metal crates around him, and one was bearing his bloody body. It wasn’t really surprising no one had found him yet, in this maze, which had just been exploded, which left metal bits flown every which way. That reminded Jay he hadn’t finished. He moved his hand past his bloody ear, and around his face, nothing there, not until he reached his head, where he felt blood at the back of his head. He could confidently say to Will in his mind.

9.

----- -----

Hailey panted while her feet kicked off the ground. This offender wasn’t getting out so easily. Not with her and Jay around. She curved around the building, getting to the west end. She saw a door, closed, and went through, pointing her gun first. That's when she saw Charlie, who’s their bomber, pointing a gun at Jay in his right hand, a remote in the other. Jay was pointing his gun right back at him, ready to strike when his partner was. She pointed her gun at Charlie, while he smiled with his thumb moving closer to the button.

“Put it down Charlie. Put IT DOWN!” She yelled.

Jay saw his thumb moving and with a swift movement, pulled the trigger on his rifle.

Hailey felt the heat of the bomb push her out of the door, slamming her into the asphalt parking lot. Her ears rang a little, and her head hurt, but otherwise, she was okay. She pointed her gun up at the explosion, out of reflex mostly, but there was nothing left to shoot.

“JAY!” She immediately called out. There were explosive materials in this warehouse, and Jay was now hidden behind flames. She knew protocol, she couldn’t go in there. Besides, she’d kill herself trying to get to him and there was no use. If the explosion threw her that far, who knows where Jay ended up, he was so much closer than she was. Fuck, she thought. She only hoped that he was still alive. He had to be.

Ruzek came running from behind the building with Burgees following through.

“Hailey, you alright?”

“I’m fine, but Jay- Jay’s inside.” She said, stunned, almost on the verge of crying.

“Shit. 5021 Ida, Requesting Ambo and Fire at 5482 Creekstone Road, there was an explosion, officer stuck inside.” Ruzek followed with a couple more swears before asking about the offender. “Is Charlie down?”

“Sui vest. Caused the explosion.” She put her hands around her head, scared for the possibility of what Jay could be going through, or the lack of anything he could be going through. “How didn’t we see it?”

Ruzek pulled her into a hug, comforting her. There wasn’t anything they could have done. They didn’t see the vest, no one did.

“It’s alright, none of us saw it.”

Voights truck turned across the building at high speeds, barely waiting till he stopped before running out to his team. “Who’s inside?” His gravelly voice asked.

“Jay.” Ruzek said calmly. He was calm on the outside, but internally he wanted to scream, run inside, get Jay out, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t risk anything right now.

“Fuck.” he shuttered through his teeth. The kid had been through enough, they were going to be lucky if Jay was still alive. The building was in flames. “5021 Adam, How long until the truck gets here?” Voight demanded over the radio.

“5021 Squad, truck 81 and ambo 61 are three minutes out.” a voice replied. That’s when they heard Jay’s response.

“5021 George, argh, Bomber headed for the west end of the building…I can’t, I’m injured, I need an ambo, I can’t… I’m on the west side of the building… I think..” Once the team heard his voice they all could breathe again.

“He doesn’t remember shooting Charlie.” Hailey mentioned, her eyes wide with fear. “He shot Charlie, because he was holding a gun, and a sui vest controller, he got him, he doesn’t remember?” Hailey was on the verge of a panic attack now, Ruzek there to try and calm her down.

“Jay, you’re going to be okay, rescue is on the way. Report your status.” Voight practically yelled into the radio, pissed. Waiting for a response, Voight tried to search for other ways into the building, mostly to keep his mind busy, and tell Severide quicker ways to get in so Jay could be saved.

The sirens were filling the air, while Jay’s response wasn’t. “Halstead, report status.” Hank yelled again. At this point he wasn’t sure what to think. Hopefully the kid was just passed out from pain, that was one of the better thoughts he had going through his mind right now.

“Sarge, he probably blew his eardrums.” Ruzek added as Squad three pulled in, with the rest of firehouse 51 following behind.

“What’s going on?” Severide called out to the intelligence team.

“There was a suicide bomber, Jay got caught in the explosion, he’s somewhere inside.” Ruzek filled him in, knowing he was the only stable person at the moment, with Hailey panicking, and Voight about to tear someone apart. Calling himself stable was generous at the moment, but at least his head was on as straight as it could be while standing right outside the building his friend could be dying in.

Everyone around intelligence froze when they heard the radio go off again with Jay’s voice.

“Sarge… There’s a piece…gah,.. of metal in… my neck, below my ear. GAH, FUCk…”

Voight froze. Jay’s scream was almost ear piercing, and the whole crew knew Jay didn’t show pain often, so he was in pain. Voight also wasn’t good with anatomy, but he knew that the metal probably hit his artery.

“Sarge..?”

“Halstead, Severide’s coming to get you. You’re going to be okay. I promise you that.”

The silence at this point was haunting. They didn’t know what Jay was going through. They didn't know if he could even hear them, at this point they could only assume. They all waited while their friends from firehouse 51 fought the fire. Gabby and Sylvie were getting anything they might need for Jay ready, especially the pain meds.

“7237, Sergeant Halstead, 3rd battalion, 75th rangers, requesting medivac, my team, I think we ran over an IED.”

Voight turned away from the fire, Jay had said all that mostly perfectly. Clearly, while just earlier he had troubles making a few words. The adrenaline was getting to him, and now so was his PTSD. He couldn’t tell if this was a nightmare, or a blessing. Knowing he’s alive, though not mentally in Chicago. He hadn’t really witnessed Jay’s PTSD first hand, only hearing snippets from what Jay’s told him, and from Will. God, he had to tell Will.

“I can’t hear anything, God dammit. Mouse? Come on Mouse, wake up. When is that backup coming?”

The team all cringed while Jay kept talking over the radio. Ruzek had seen Jay having nightmares before, but none of them have seen it this bad.

“Someone get Mouse to meet us at the hospital.” Ruzek broke the silence.

“AH! Fuck. fuck, dammit.” Jay screamed over the radio.

The fire was practically out at this point, but squad showed no signs of finding Jay yet. Voight at this point was surprised dispatch had let them keep the line so quiet.

“Dawson, I found him, he’s pointing a gun at us, we might need sedation.” Severide's radio call gave a chill to everyone.

“Copy.” Gabby replied calmly, but bitterly. She didn’t want to sedate him, but she knew it might be the only way they could get him to comply, especially since he couldn’t hear anything. She rummaged around the ambo a little before finding what she needed, having it on hand for when they came out.

Everyone now at the scene was in silence. Hoping, wishing, that Jay would come back to Chicago so it wouldn’t be difficult to save him. They all watched the door Squad three went through while everyone on truck fought the fire. Eventually, after strenuous waiting, they all were relieved when Severide, and Mills were holding onto him, Mills holding his feet, Severide holding him by his armpits.

Dawson and Sylvie ran to them, starting their assessment on all the damages as Severide and Mills dropped him on the gurney. They started cutting off his jeans, and started a IV, not watching Jay’s eyes like Voight was. Voight was stuck watching his young detective's face, littered with small wounds from the blast, and eyes angry and confused. His eyes followed the movements of the two paramedics working on him. He just seemed confused and in massive pain. Voight stepped in to help them, taking off Jay’s vest, ripping the Velcro apart. Jay looked at Voight, and his eyes changed from confusion to desperation, or worry.

“Sarge… you’re supposed to be in Chicago, not…” Jay choked between pain, tears and confusion.

“You’re okay Jay.” Voight tried to say clearly enough so hopefully Jay could read his lips. “I’m riding with him, Hailey, take Jay’s Truck, Burgees, lock down the scene with Atwater.”

“Voight, keep his head still, we gotta put a c-collar on.” Dawson demanded respectfully. Jay hated touch and had three people touching him, it was probably best if it was a face he liked.

Voight knew it was going to be a tough ride. He didn’t want anyone else seeing the shit Halstead was going through mentally. He sighed as Dawson and Sylvie put Jay in the truck, Jay keeping his eyes stuck on Voight. Hank made sure to pull out his phone and call Will, and thankfully he picked up.

Voight watched Dawson put two pieces of gauze around the piece of metal in Jay’s neck, while Voight stabilized his neck and Sylvie drove the ambo. They taped the gauze down then put a neck brace on him. Jay was obviously freaked out, and in a lot of pain and all Voight could do was rub the top of his bloody hand. Voight got to take the time of Will taking forever to pick up to actually analyze Jay’s wounds.

He saw the blood dripping from his ears, and neck, the bone sticking out of his leg, tiny cuts all over his arms and face, some bigger than others, drawing more blood than the rest. Voight took the vest and put it beside him when Dawson passed it to him, then watched her cut off the bloodied long sleeve Jay had underneath the vest.

Once they had both seen the bruises, taking over his whole chest area, they both winced. Jay was unfazed, well, maybe that’s the wrong word. More like, out of it completely. He was staring at the ambo ceiling, whispering something to himself, breathing heavily through his teeth. They could both see and hear Jay’s breaths, trying to get through the broken ribs and bruising.

Finally Will picked up.

“Will, get the ED ready, Jay was in an explosion, it's pretty bad but he’s conscious, he thought he was in Afghanistan. I’ve been trying to talk to him, but his eardrums have probably ruptured.”

Dawson took the time to call in the ED, making sure Will could hear it too because she would explain the wounds.

“Ambo 61, Incoming to Med, 31 y/o male injured in an explosion, compound fracture on the right femur, bruising on the chest and possible broken ribs, ruptured eardrums, possible concussion, and too many contusions to count, open wound on the back of the head.”

Will stayed silent, only sounds of running could be heard over the phone. “Will, I'll see you in a few.” Voight was about to hang up, when Jay released all the pain he had pent up, letting out an ear splitting scream.

“Pushing morphine!” Dawson called out.

Chapter Text

Day 1 - Feb 14

Voight only heard feeble grunts and groans of pain after the morphine was injected. Dawson could only give so much, until the doctors took over.

“Sarge…” Jay groaned, with hitched breaths. “Sarge, chicago…”

“Yeah Jay, you’re in Chicago, we’re going to Med.” Jay’s eyebrows furrowed, questioning what words Hank was saying, he only saw nodding. Jay’s still bloodied hand moved up to his neck, feeling the neck brace. He tried to adjust himself on the bed, moving his ribs in a more comfortable position, which was a mistake. Jay let out a scream, held behind his clenched teeth, throwing his arms across his chest. Voight gently grabbed onto Jay’s arm, trying to get him to hold still. He couldn’t handle Jay being in pain like this.

“Sarge.. Don’t, don’t let Will worry.” Jay spoke through uneven breaths. “I don’t want- I don’t want him to worry.”

Voight nodded and gave a lighthearted smile. That was about all he could do. Hold him, and nod. There were comforting words he could have given, if that would have helped.

Jay kept looking up, shutting his eyes when his pain ticked up. He kept his jaw clenched, and held one side of the gurney with his right hand, and held Voight's hand with the other. Every time his pain hit more, Jay made sure to let go of Voight, clenching his fist against the gurney. Voight wanted to let him know, he could take it, if he squeezed his hand, but there was no way he could. This was probably the longest ambulance ride of his life, not that he had been in many.

The rest of the ride was silent, besides Jay’s small groans, internally held screams, and small comments on Chicago. Dawson got ready to transport Jay into Med, as they pulled into the ambulance bay.

Voight got off with Dawson, noticing Will right up close, but out of the way. Voight patted Will on the shoulder.

Jay grunted when the gurney came down to the ground with a bump. Voight was somehow glad Jay couldn’t hear the commotion between Dawson and Dr. Choi. Will and Voight walked behind them, worried, but watching. Jay on the other hand was still clenching his teeth and shutting his eyes. There were moments Jay opened his mouth, but only to gasp for air, or let out another scream, which he promptly cut off by shutting his mouth, and closing it tight.

There were too many things being said and Voight was just lost in the medical talk. He stood beside Will the whole time, knowing he knew everything. What injuries he had sustained, what was going to happen, how much Jay was going to hate being in the hospital, and what he would specifically hate the most.

“They’re taking him for a CT scan, before he goes to surgery for his leg, and anything else they find.” Will said quietly, explaining to Voight, and himself. Sure Will knew what was going on, that didn’t mean he was processing it. He was still stuck on the image of Jay’s bone, the c-collar, the cuts everywhere, the bruising. He looked like hell. “He’s- There's nothing life threatening as of right now. That’s- yeah- that’s good.”

Voight nodded to him, noticing the rest of the team piling in from the entrance. Ruzek was the first in, Upton, Burgess and Atwater following behind him. “Sarge!” Ruzek called out.

“Pushing morphine, let him sleep.” Dr. Rhodes said, prompting relief from Voight and Will, both who knew how much pain Jay was in and how much he was trying to cover it up. “Bring him to CT.”

Jay let out one last groan that grew quieter as he drifted off.

Dr. Choi followed behind Dr. Rhodes who was pushing Jay out with April and Maggie. Standing in front of Will and Voight, with the intelligence team slightly off to the left of Voight. “They’re bringing him for a CT scan, then bringing him into surgery to set his leg, and give him a few plates. They’ll splint it till they’re confident the incision site won’t get infected, then they’ll cast it. They’ll also take out the shrapnel, especially the one in his neck. It looks like it did nick the carotid, but it’s not too severe. Other than that, we have to wait on imaging.” Ethan looked at them all who just seemed to be in shock, confused, and angry. It hit him more, knowing Jay was a vet like him. Voight was pissed, but worried. “I’ll let you know when he’s headed into surgery.” Ethan watched them all nod on their own time, giving quiet thanks.

Voight stood with Will a little longer, while the team left to go sit in the waiting room. The bloody bandages, sat on the floor, surrounded around where the gurney stood.

“I’ve seen him shot. Concussions, fights, all that.” Will swallowed. “I’ve, I’ve never seen anything close to what he went through overseas. And, I knew, that I would never fully know, hell, part of me never wanted to know. But, Voight, he, did he really think he was back there? In the humvee?”

Voight sighed. It was odd, knowing that he knew more about Jay than his own brother did. “Yeah. And there was nothing I could do to pull him out of it.” Voight put his hand on the older Halstead’s back. “But Jay is strong, he’s been to hell and back, he’ll be alright. It’ll be okay.”

Will only had the strength to nod. Hoping it would be okay. I mean, he had to be. Who else would be his annoying little brother?

----- -----

Will had been let off shift, Dr. Goodwin knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on the patients if his brother was one. So he had asked Voight to drive him to his apartment, then Jay’s to grab a few things. He would’ve driven himself, if his hands weren’t shaking and his vision wasn’t blurry with tears. Voight had just said no problem. Jay was half an hour into his surgery, and there was still more to go, so they both felt comfortable leaving.

Driving through the busy streets of Chicago, Will couldn’t stand the silence. “I, uh. Just want to say thank you.”

“For what?” Voight spoke, genuinely confused.

“Looking after Jay. He and I, after, you know, our mom died, we grew apart. He had the military and I had med school. When he came back home, he had PTSD, and I just left him. I took out a lot of anger out of him, and his anger came out on me.” Will sighed. His guilt had a strong stain on his mind everyday, but it grew stronger when Jay was hurt. “Jay had every right to not accept me as his brother after that, but he still did. And with you, and the rest of intelligence around, he’s got a good family behind him.”

“Jay’s a good kid. I'm willing to defend him to high hell.” Voight tapped on the steering wheel, taking the next right onto Will’s street. “And, Jay kicked himself for not forgiving you at first. He feels guilty just like you. He wished he had been there for all of you, instead of being overseas. He could have seen more of the good times, not the stress of the cancer.”

Will looked into his lap, where his shaking hands fidgeted. I mean, why wouldn’t he be the only guilty one? He was just at most to blame, for leaving Jay, and Mom, and Dad. Leaving them to witness her final days, while he was away. Sometimes he wondered what her words would have been. Would she had smiled seeing him for the last time? Did she wear that perfume she always wore when she went out, but stopped wearing when she got too tired?

“Don’t stay in your head Will. Jay needs you now.” Voight parked the car, noticing Will zoning out. “You want me to come in with you?”

“What, oh, no, I’ll be alright, just grabbing a change of clothes.”

Voight nodded while Will left the car.

----- -----

Voight and Will had only been gone for probably 45 minutes, but Ruzek was getting antsy beneath the chaos of the waiting room. Burgess had sat beside him, and decided to take a power nap, but Ruzeks bouncing leg was too distracting.

“Adam, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, ah, nothing, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” He gave a sad smile.

“It’s hard to fall asleep in this place anyways. A lot of crying, and talking.”

He chuckled, agreeing, he hated hospitals too, not as much as Jay though, he was sure of that.

“Have Will and Voight been gone for a long time?”

“They’re going to Will's apartment, which is around a twenty drive from here, plus Jay’s is about 10 minutes from Will’s.” Burgess was worried about Adam. I mean, they were all stressed, and scared, he had every right to worry about Voight, and Will. “They’ll be back in probably half an hour. We can call him at any point too Adam.”

Adam sighed. It would be fine. He was worrying too much.

Burgess had fallen asleep against Adam’s shoulder, when Kevin had walked through the bay doors with Platt. Adam looked up from his phone, where he was mostly watching videos, on silent with captions, just to try to distract himself a little. He was pleased to see them, any familiar faces were good ones to see right now.

“Ruzek’s got his own sleeping beauty.” Trudy teased.

“I don’t want to wake her but she's cutting off the circulation in my arm.”

Kevin laughed and hit his other shoulder, not occupied by Burgess.

“Any updates on Halstead?” Trudy questioned, sitting down in the seat next to Ruzek.

“He’s in surgery, that’s about it. Ethan will come with an update when he’s out.” Ruzek sighed. The whole situation was flashing in his head. No one saw the bomb vest. They had tracked down Charlie’s location through a couple CI’s who were involved with the drug and bomb rings in Chicago. Mouse was able to doing some tech stuff and find where Charlie had been sourcing his parts for his bombs. Then they found a video.

A kid, no more than 13, held a bomb. He looked like he was being held at gunpoint, and to an extent, he was. He said “My name is Jack Plecher. Charlie will meet you, at… the warehouse on creekstone. Right, by the rails… at noon, tomorrow… don’t kill me… please.. don’t let me die..” Then the video cut out while the kid sobbed.

Mouse had found a USB drive in his mailbox at home. He was freaked out, called Jay, then watched it with Jay over the phone. Jay then called Voight, keeping Mouse calm. Mouse was also a ranger like Jay, and hell they could both be tortured, beaten through hell, and they would say anything. That didn’t mean watching a kid scared shitless for his life was going to be easy. Mouse and Jay both saw shit overseas. They all knew it, they just didn’t ask. Just listened when the little hints, conversation drops, and drunken memories came to light.

The rest of intelligence was called into the bullpen, and the sweet hour of 11 pm. Jay was sitting on the edge of his desk while Mouse inhabited his chair. Mouse looked like shit. Scared, worried, gone? He seemed like he was weening between a nightmare and real life. Once the rest of the team had watched the video, they understood.

“Adam?” Trudy placed her hand gingerly on Ruzek’s thigh. Patting it once, as a friendly gesture. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m trying to think about how it happened. When we first got to the warehouse, we saw the kid, took him, and then we saw Charlie, and Jay ran after him. We all saw him though, there was no vest, the guy was in a t-shirt and jeans.” Ruzek took his available right hand and pushed his eyeballs with his fingers. “It doesn’t make sense. I’m trying to piece it together, but I can’t figure it out.”

“Adam, he probably had it stashed. On the other side of the building. Jay most likely got lost in the mess of metal crates, and that gave him time to get to it. It was a planned meet, he had hours to set everything up how he wanted.”

Ruzek was confused. His brain hurt for Jay, for his team, for himself. They knew it was going to be a weird takedown. Probably an ambush. But Charlie ran, so Jay ran after him. Hailey went on the left side of the building to cut him off, Ruzek and Burgess took the other side of the building, clearing it and trying to follow Jay and Hailey for backup. Voight and Atwater stayed back with the kid, clearing the rest of the building. Now he had more questions. “Was it a target?”

“We don’t know. Just know what happened at the start from the dash cams of the cars.” Trudy offered as many reassuring words as she could to make Ruzek stop reeling in the take down. In the flashbacks. “We’ll figure it all out once Jay’s out of surgery, alright?”

“Yeah.” Ruzek let out a deep sigh. It would be okay, eventually. It always was. He just had to keep the spirits up, Jay was going to need some comedic asshole to keep him in the present.

Chapter Text

Day 2 - Feb 15

Will was sleeping, reclining himself as much as he could on the chair in Jay’s room. His head was sitting on his right shoulder, a blanket that looked around 20 years old covered his tired body. Jay had still been on the vent. They removed it after the surgery, but as he was coming off, he was struggling to breathe, they didn’t realize how much smoke he actually breathed in. Voight could only stand on the doorway and watch the two Halsteads in their respective slumbers. He had felt like a father to the both of them, more Jay than Will, but still there for them both. He could handle seeing Will asleep, but visibly exhausted. Jay on the other hand, he looked just as exhausted, except there were so many wires and tubes and splints.

His head had bandages from the bang to his head that he took. He had a feeding tube down his nose, sticking out and held by tape, and the vent sticking out of his mouth. His neck stood up tall, supported by the blue collar. His chest was exposed, the blanket folded right over his torso, keeping his chest out in the open for everyone in the ICU to see. All the cuts and 2nd degree burns that Jay had sustained from the shrapnel and blast. His right arm was being hugged by a blood pressure cuff, and his left wrist was being held in place by a boxy splint, with his pointer and middle fingers wrapped, connected to the splint. Pillows surrounded Jay, creating a barricade between him, his arms, and the edge of the hospital bed. There were two screens sourcing the only light in the room, one for Jay's vitals, and the other for the vent, Voight assumed. The last piece of Jay’s injury puzzle was his right leg, raised up in a splint, not in a cast yet.

Connor snuck up behind Voight, who was looking into the dark room to see his exhausted friend, and his brother.

“Dr. Goodwin gave Will the next few days off.” Connor spoke gently. “Jay’s CT came back, guaranteed concussion but no bleeding, a broken leg, three broken ribs, three fractured, he’s got a slight fracture in the vertebra in his neck, so we’re keeping the c-collar on. Keeping him on the vent so his lungs have a little time to heal from the smoke inhalation. You can add 45 stitches to Jay’s count too.”

Hank gave a slight chuckle to that. He, Jay and Mouse were probably the only people who actually knew the exact number of stitches Jay had gotten over the years. 78, no, 123 now, through the police department, and 125 in the army. His total tally came up to 248. He probably needed to be awarded a world record for his pain. Most of the stitches were from hand to hand combat, beating down offenders, knife fights and quite a few gunshots for anyone’s liking.

“You should add in two more, just so it's an even number.” Voight joked, knowing Connor didn’t know what he was talking about. Seeing Connors face, he explained. “248. Never got a single stitch till he joined the army. Now he’s at 248.”

Connor nodded silently. He hadn’t really known anything about Jay, but he saw every time he was in the hospital. He saw Will completely destroyed every time he saw his younger brother injured, even when it was just a concussion, or a grazed knife wound. They had both lost their whole family, and Jay was the only person Will had left.

“We’re going to try to take him off the vent in the next couple days. He’ll be on medical leave for a while, then desk duty until his leg and neck are healed, which will take about a month or two if he’s smart about it. Once his leg is healed, they’ll reassess and see if the plates can come out, if not, they’ll stay.”

“He’ll still be miserable, per usual.” Hank was grasping onto any sense of normalcy in this situation. Jay would be miserable, annoyed, and hell bent on getting back to work, and getting Will off his ass. That was probably the best part of their brothership, the whole intelligence team got to see Will smother Jay with love and care, and Jay hated it. They all knew Jay appreciated it, he just sometimes wanted independence, but said independence often went against medical advice, and Will was there to put him straight, well, as straight as he could until Jay wouldn’t back down.

“That’s Jay though.” Connor shrugged with a smirk and moved on, patting Voight on the shoulder before making rounds to his other patients.

----- -----

Voight had gotten permission from one of the nurses to bring in another chair for him to sit on, while Will was still sleeping on the chair already in the room. He pulled the chair up as close to the bed as he comfortably could. At this angle, he could see Jay’s breaths, being assisted by the machine, he saw all the stitches on his arms, littered around like small constellations of trauma.

The white blanket was tucked in tightly around his body, probably done by Will, and came up to his chest, where the wires monitoring his heart rate were stuck in patterns Voight could only assume were random. His leg was exposed, the splint protecting it from movement. The c-collar kept his neck extended, the vent resting off of it.

Voight tried not to look at everything, just see Jay, but he couldn’t when his young detective looked so defeated. Voight saw Jay’s eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids, reeled in whatever medically drugged dreams he could be seeing. Hank gently placed his hand over Jay’s right hand, rubbing the back of Jay’s hand with his thumb. Hank's hands were rough, battered and beat from years of service, handling and trauma. Jay’s were softer, younger, but still, beat.

Somewhere in Voight’s mind, he saw himself in Jay. Passionate, strong, willing, emotional. The one thing that stood as a difference between them was forgiveness. Jay apologized when he didn’t need to, sought forgiveness for acts he shouldn’t be asking for forgiveness for and he forgave for unforgivable acts. Voight was the opposite, he stood strong, ego blocking any forgiveness looking his way. He apologized to those who needed it, not those who wanted it, he only forgave with a good reason, and never seeked forgiveness unless it was imperative. Jay in this aspect was a better detective than Voight. Voight had used his ego, and roughness to get him to all sorts of places in the city of Chicago. While Jay used his heart. When they had a case with a pedophilic rapist, Jay sat with the victims, apologizing for what they went through, just being present with them. Hank promised them he would kill the bastard, or lock him up for a long time, and did just that. But he didn’t take much time to really sit with the victims. Jay was letting them see him as a person that could be trusted. Voight was letting them see him as the hand of justice.

That’s why Voight couldn’t really handle seeing Jay like this. Voight couldn’t be the hand of justice, there wasn’t much they could have done. They canvassed the area, they had no clue what they were walking into, other than the plans of a bomber. There was so much potential in this young detective, riddled with guilt and trauma from his days in the rangers right out of high school, and now the crime ridden streets of Chicago couldn’t fair him any better.

The rest of intelligence was back at the bullpen, trying to catch up on paperwork, just to keep busy. Adam however was now leaning over the nurses desk, watching Voight sit with Jay, and Will sleep in the corner of the room. Adam wanted someone to blame. Some reason for all this. He could blame Charlie all he wanted, but the fact of the matter was, Charlie was dead. And Jay was close behind him. That’s what pissed him off. Jay had been so close to death so many times, Adam was just wondering when the reaper would come for his bounty.

Dr. Charles interrupted Adam's thoughts, standing next to him, and watching the same scene as him.

“Never gets easier seeing Jay in the hospital.” Dr. Charles breathed, taking in the pain swirling around the room and hallway. Ruzek never seemed to think Dr. Charles was close to Jay, or knew much about him. But, then again, last year, when Jay’s PTSD was really kicking up a notch, Voight forced him to talk to someone, and that someone was Dr. Charles. Now Dr. Charles knew the in’s and out’s of Jay's responses, gestures, and ignorances. Jay was his patient, but he still cared for him, especially since Will was a friend of his.

“Sometimes I think he should have a room specifically for him here.” Adam chuckled, trying to waft away any anger.

“You hate to see him here so often.” Dr. Charles remarked. “It’s at least easier when he’s in my office instead of one of these rooms. How are you holding up?”

“Heh, doc, no offense, I'm not in the mood to converse about my feelings, when Jay’s, you know.” Ruzek crossed his arms, not meaning to get defensive.

“I understand. Though wouldn’t this be the best time to talk about it? So that when Jay does come to, you can be there for him, at your fullest? Not keeping any stress on the backburner?”

Dr. Charles made a good point and Adam sighed. He took this as his invitation to speak his mind. “I just, I still don’t get it. How did any of it happen? I mean, one minute Jay is sprinting at full speed through a warehouse, and the next I'm standing beside Hailey, our friend is stuck behind the flames.” Ruzek rubbed his forehead. “I’ve tried to make sense of it, Trudy explained it, but I, I don’t understand how we let it happen.”

Ruzek breathed through the memories. He hadn’t noticed yet that Voight had seen Adam and Dr. Charles, but Voight knew he was going to be okay.

“And then, when we heard him over the radio, we were so relieved, until he said Sergeant Halstead, and his voice was so hoarse but stern.” God, Adam couldn’t imagine what Jay was going through. “He couldn’t hear us, his eardrums blown, so there was nothing we could say to comfort him, bring him back.”

Voight watched the conversation between the two men, Ruzek was on the verge of crying before he walked away from Dr. Charles, nodding to Voight who was holding Jay’s hand in between his own.

----- -----

Day 3 - Feb 16

Ethan stood beside Jay, while Will was on the other side, Voight sitting in the chair in the corner, as if to be there, but not in the way. Jay would want Will first.

They were ready to pull the vent, but they were just waiting for Jay to wake up. He had been healing nicely, as much as he could over the last day and his oxygen levels were looking very promising.

Will was watching intently when Jay's eyes started to flutter, his fingers moving around and cracking his knuckles. That’s when the panic set it. Will and Ethan assumed it was the vent, but he was sitting there, eyes wide open, not moving. He wasn’t scared of the vent, he was scared to hear the status of his team. Will was holding Jay’s hand, talking to him as Ethan slowly brought the vent out of Jay’s throat.

Jay was in obvious discomfort while it was being taken out, anyone would be in the same discomfort if they had a tube stuck in their throat the last day and a half. Once the vent was fully out, Jay sprang forward, where Will held him, and told him he was safe. Jay just coughed, and wheezed.

“Where…” Jay forced out. “Wher’s Mouse…Sherman, Thorpe.. Where..” Jay coughed while waiting for a response.

“You’re in the hospital Jay, you’re okay.” Will looked into his brother's eyes, but didn’t recognize the glaze on them.

“What?” Jays brows furrowed, trying to take in what was being said, but being held behind the fuzziness of his ears. He tried harder to listen, but was overcome with pain radiating from his ribs. His arms shot across his abdomen, in an attempt to protect himself.

Will tried to hold onto his brother, writhing in pain, at least he was breathing. Jay hitched his breath, gasping through his teeth. Ethan got the morphine, and got it ready to administer while Jay was gasping for air through the pain.

“Keep,. K’p em safe…” Jay pleaded as the morphine was rushing through his IV, slowly getting to his body, Will wished it to go faster. “Keep.. them safe…” Jay said, every word weakening as the sweet pain relief coursed through his veins.

Will gently reclined his limp brother onto the bed, then angrily backed up from the bed, slamming his fists on the cold window sill, silently cursing at the world. Voight just sat, stunned. Before, Jay seemed fine, just, asleep, pain free, and when he was woken up, it all came back.

Jay’s pain filled eyes were still open, but barely, while his fingers slowly moved in a pattern Voight recognized. He’d seen it a couple times while driving Jay back from some fire fights with gangs, or that time he was kidnapped for a few hours and saw a kid shot in front of him, he would move his fingers in a specific pattern, keeping him present. Voight left it, but after a while, Jay asked him to start talking to him when he does that, about anything, the hockey game last night, some case long ago, absolutely anything.

Voight stood up, going up to the bed, and came closer to Jay, where Jay could see him. Jay just stared at him, his mind obviously fogged from the drugs. There was something behind his eyes, an ask, a wish, a plea. Maybe to break him out of here, get rid of the pain, save him, save someone else. Voight could only stand there while Jay’s eyes fluttered close and Ethan put an oxygen mask over his face.

Once his blue eyes were covered, Voight pulled out his phone and sent Trudy a text.

----- -----

Mouse hid in his tech corner, finishing a case for a couple of uniform’s when Platt came to the counter.

“What can I do for you sargeant?” Mouse put on a smile for Platt. She never really visited him, but he was always happy to see her. She was probably the second person in the district that helped him through the most shit. Jay being the first.

“Just warning you, Voight’s on the way, probably to bust your balls about not visiting Halstead.” Platt saw the smile fade from Mouse’s face, she knew what was going on and Mouse didn’t need Voight on his ass about it. She tapped the counter before walking away, leaving Mouse with the unsettling news.

Trudy knew why Mouse didn't see Jay. The last time Mouse tried to help Jay in the midst of a PTSD episode like that, he freaked him more than he already was. Jay only saw Mouse as he saw him in the humvee. Broken arm, bleeding leg, face full of blood, screaming out for help. Mouse couldn’t handle Jay being in a state like that. When Jay was having nightmares, flashbacks, or when it came close to the anniversary, Mouse could pull him out, talk about it. But when Jay was already there, feeling like he was there again, Mouse only made it worse.

Now Mouse couldn’t think, Voight could be on his way in right now, be there in 20 minutes or maybe he was an hour away. He couldn’t even defend himself rightfully. He should have been there for Jay. He knows more about Jay than anyone, and he should’ve been there for him. Part of him was making the PTSD an excuse, but Mouse was also terrified. He wasn’t sure how he would react seeing Jay so hurt. Jay’s occasional run in’s punches to the face didn’t really affect him that much anymore, mostly because he got accustomed to it due to his high frequency of run in’s. He used to have panic attacks, taking a break outside when that happened. But Jay was really injured this time. Similar to how he was hurt in the humvee, similar to how Mouse was hurt in the humvee, and Mouse wasn’t sure how much of that he could handle before he slipped back too.

“Gerwitz!” Voight practically yelled right in front of Mouse’s face.

“Yes Sarge?” Mouse fidgeted with his hands, anxious for what Voight was going to say.

“Why haven’t you visited Halstead yet?” Voight kept stern, angry, reasonable, Mouse thought.

At this point, Mouse wasn’t sure if he should play it off as being an asshole friend, which was easier to explain, or tell the truth.

“I've been, uh, really busy at work Sarge, sorry.” Mouse’s leg bounced up and down anxiously, trying to just get through the conversation.

“Bullshit Gerwitz.” Voight noticed the body language on Mouse. He was the sergeant of intelligence for God’s sake, he’d be an idiot not to notice Mouse’s anxiety. “Truth.”

Mouse bit his lip, making it bleed. “Sarge, I can't see him right now. When he.. when he’s better, I'll visit him, but I'm gonna trigger him, I can’t, I can’t do that to him.” Mouse looked away from Voight, trying to ignore any sense of disappointment that might have been on his face.

“Mouse, come on, let’s go.” Voight demanded politely. There was a sense of comfort, and famility in his voice.

“Sarge, I told you I’m not going.” Mouse choked slightly, he didn't want to disobey a direct order, but he wanted to stick to his morals.

“God Dammit Mouse, just follow me.” Voight shook his head and scoffed.

----- -----

The drive was only going to be around 15 minutes, but that was enough for Mouse to worry, and be stuck in his head.

“Mouse.” Voight said sternly.

“Mm?” Mouse stopped picking at his fingers.

“Have you thought about using lately?”

“What? Sarge, I-”

“Truth, Gerwitz.” Voight interrupted.

“The day Jay got injured, yeah.” Mouse felt guilty, like he had just been caught red handed. “But Sarge, I promise, I’m not going to use, I can’t go back to that. I’d lose my job.”

“Good.” Voight sighed. He needed to know Mouse was alright. Jay needed that, Voight needed that. “I just want you to talk to Jay. Nothing specific, just talk to him. I’ll be there if either of you need anything.”

“Sarge, what if?” Mouse adjusted in his seat, uncomfortable with everything around him. “What if one of us slips, you know? I mean, I see it every night. And, I call Jay once a week, worrying if he’s alright, but the feeling of the heat, the taste of sand and rocks, the texture of the blood soaking my clothes…”

Voight could sense the nervousness. “Like I said. I’ll be there with you.”

----- -----

Jay gripped his canteen bottle as Thorpe sang some pop song that barely hit the top 100 charts two decades ago, in a key way out of tune, Jay was starting to question if Thorpe was deaf. The rest of the crew in the humvee was enjoying it, and Halstead couldn’t say it was unwelcome, but hell the guy needed to learn to sing.

“If you’re trying to please anyone with that voice Thorpe, you’re going to need a vocal coach!” Halstead pitched in.

“Oh come on Sarge! I don’t need a girl with ears to have a good time!” Sherman hollered at Thorpe's statement while Jay just chuckled and drank his water. The roads were rough, and he probably would’ve spilled his water if he wasn’t used to it.

Mouse just looked out the window, holding his gun in a comfortable position. He was still going over the previous mission in his head, and couldn’t stand Thorpe’s singing.

“You are going to scare them all away though!” Mouse raised his voice over the noise the bumpy roads produced. Thorpe just smiled and shoo’d Mouse away from the seat in front of him, as if he anywhere to leave to.

“You are going to need different songs Thorpe, get them in the right mo-” Sherman chimed in before they were interrupted by an ear shattering blast.

The blast turned the humvee over twice, landing it on its side, the side where Halstead was sitting. Sand and rocks had been kicked around, settling in uncomfortable places, cutting up skin and metal. Broken glass flew from its place in the beige doors, littering all four of the soldiers' skin, slicing little and large wounds in their uniforms. The innocent scarlet pooled around the vehicle, dripping from Halsteads head, Mouse’s leg, and Thorpe's face. There wasn’t anywhere you could have looked that wasn’t splattered in someone's blood.

Jay blinked multiple times, trying to will away the vertigo, which was making him nauseous. He groaned through the pain, someone’s belt knife had come loose, lodging in the side of his thigh. His ears were ringing, he noticed, as he attempted to check his crew. Thorpe had a large piece of glass cut across his face that cut from his left eye to his top left lip, helmet protecting his head, but no part of the injury. The soldier in the front seat passenger let out blood curdling screams due to a large piece of the humvee’s metal planting itself in Thorpe’s right leg, leaving behind trails of red. The IED had struck on Thorpe’s side and the door was gone, showing the bright sun beaming on the missing flesh of Thorpe’s arm. The screaming quickly dissipated, Thorpe relaxing into a forever unconsciousness. Sherman, their driver, had been crushed from the flip. His blood from his head spilling down the seats, viscously dripping in front of Halstead. There was no way he survived that, the roof of the humvee concavely pushed into the drivers side, leaving Sherman’s helmet cracked into multiple pieces, leaving him unrecognizable. Mouse who was sitting beside Halstead, screamed in pain. His leg had been pinned between the middle parting of the humvee, and had a piece of metal stuck in his other arm. Mouse was alive. Mouse was alive.

Jay was stunned, ears ringing, leg in pain, nauseous, but he could still hear Mouse screaming for his life. He unbuckled, slipping more to the ground beneath his left shoulder.

“MOUSE!” Jay called out, adjusting his helmet, and checking his bleeding. He was fine, he needed to get to Mouse.

“Sarge! Sarge..” Mouse choked on the pain.

“Stay awake Mouse! That’s an order!” Someone was shaking Jay, but he had to help Mouse. They needed to make it out alive.

The shaking persisted while Jay took off his belt to tie off Mouse’s arm. The gash made from the metal stuck in his arm was bleeding too much, like if you had let a faucet open on half speed.

“Jay? Come on, wake up.” Jay blinked at Mouse's blurry words.

“Mouse, it's going to be okay.” He responded, his words slurred. He kept swallowing down any pain he had. Mouse was only a year younger than him, but always thought of him as one of the kids of the group. Jay wasn’t sure how he got in charge and was bossing Mouse around.

“Jay, you’re in chicago.” Mouse looked at him, no longer in pain, and holding his hand.

Jay's eyes shot open, and his body flung up with them, his body going as far as he could, when his splint jabbed him in the thigh, and the c-collar kept his neck from any movement.

“Mouse?” His voice cracked. “God, I thought- Mouse, fuck… you’re okay.” Jay gripped onto Mouse's arms which were holding Jay steady.

“Yeah, we both are.”

“Thorpe and Sherman.” Mouse reclined Jay back to a lying position while Jay dragged his hands down his face, rubbing his eyes on the way down. He could still see the guts spilt on his combat boots, he could feel the blood drying on his arm, soaked through his uniform.

“14 years next week.”

“Fuck.” Jay leaned back, situating himself back in the comfort of his pillows. “God Greg, I gotta get out of here. It’s just making everything worse.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Mouse mumbled and recalled their time at the base medical center. Jay had stayed with Mouse until he was out of his coma, 20 days. Waking up from vivid nightmares, Jay would often accidentally attack doctors because he thought they were Taliban, trying to get Mouse. Jay was always there to protect him. “I don’t even want to be here and I’m visiting. Voight forced me here anyway.”

Jay looked at Mouse with confusion. Mouse kept looking down and though Jay’s hearing was healing, some words were still slipping. Mouse looking in the other direction, or mumbling didn’t help. He couldn’t get any of whatever Mouse said after he laughed.

“Say it again.”

“V---ht ------ -- -- -- ----?” (Voight forced me to be here?) Jay tried focusing but there was no point. He dropped his head in defeat on his pillow. He could tell it was something about Voight.

“I can’t fucking hear Mouse.” Jay gestured to his ear. “I can’t fucking hear.”

There was a slight bit of panic in Jay's voice that he bit back. He didn’t want to seem weak, and besides it was probably just his eardrums, or so he thought.

Mouse grabbed onto Jay's hand, flipping it over so he had the back of Jay’s hand. He paused for a moment, as Jay watched him intently, before Mouse started tapping.

- . -- .--. --- .-. .- .-. -.-- ..--.. (temporary?) Mouse watched Jay, as his lips quivered behind the thoughts.

“I don’t know.” There was an expression on Jay’s face that Mouse could place easily. Worry. It was an expression not easily found on the detective's face. When they had missions overseas, Jay only made that face when he was really worried about a mission. It was an expression you didn’t want to see.

Mouse walked out of Jay’s sights for a moment, to grab the plastic chair that had been left off to the side. He lifted it up to move it closer to the bed, adjusting his placement so he could hold onto Jay’s hand to communicate.

-.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / .- / .... . .- .-. .. -. --. / - . ... - / .- .--. .--. - (do you have a hearing test appt)

“I don’t know.” Jay could feel the tears threatening his eyes. He was so out of control of everything, Will was taking care of everything, and not really keeping Jay in the loop. Jay hated not knowing. “Greg, I don’t, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

.. .-.. .-.. / .- ... -.- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .- -... --- ..- - / - .... . / .... . .- .-. .. -. --. / - . ... - / -.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / ... .-.. . . .--. (I’ll ask Will about the hearing test, you should sleep)

“I- Mouse, can you stay?”

.- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / .- -.. / .... --- -. --- .-. . -- (always ad honorem)

Mouse leaned back in his chair, watching Jay nodding his head slightly, just barely perceivable. A wash of pain came over Jay, and he shut his eyes.

“Hurts.”

Mouse managed to call over a nurse, and watched as she administered something into his IV. Situating himself beside Jay again, he held his hand, watching him drift off into what he hoped would be a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Day 4 - Feb 17

Jay gasped, waking up from his dream. While groggily waking up, he forgot what the dream was about. He saw Mouse’s face, then Voights, then he saw Will. He cursed under his breath, when the pain finally set in. His throat was still hoarse, only getting extubated yesterday. He coughed, and that’s when he noticed Voight, who was bringing him a cup of water. One of those crappy paper cups was brought to his mouth, slowly pouring in a stream of cold water to relieve some of the scratchiness in his throat.

“Thanks.” He managed out after he swallowed.

Voight just shrugged and smiled at him, going back to his plastic chair sat beside the bed.

Jay stared at Voight now, taking in his presence. Voight was always there when one of his team members was in the hospital, but he usually visited, checked in, and left, to go work on the case. That’s why Jay was confused why he was here. They still had to get Charlie.

“Why aren’t you working on the case?” He rasped.

Voight gave him a look, before pulling the clipboard off the side table that Ethan had given them, for some sort of communication while Jay’s eardrums healed. Voight scribbled down intently. Jay waited semi-impatiently, watching Voight's rough hands write on the paper. He had dark eyebags, which haven’t been that dark since Justin died.

When Voight was done, he held the clipboard in front of Jay’s eyes which he read over three times trying to understand it.

Charlie killed himself and almost killed you in the process. We have no case anymore.

Jay brought his left hand up to his right shoulder, the kickback from the shot he took on Charlie searing in his mind. Jay shook his head, trying not to believe it.

“No, sarge, I saw him running, he left the building. He left before the explosion, we gotta go get him before he tries something again.”

Voight wrote down more words while Jay was staring at the ceiling. Then held the clipboard up again..

He's dead, Jay. You shot him.

Jay sat in silence, reading the writing. He couldn’t believe it, as much as he wanted to. He was chasing after Charlie, but then he ran out the back door leaving the bomb in front of him. He never discharged his weapon. Or at least that's what he wanted to think. He couldn’t think straight anymore.

His mind now kept getting brought back to that little girl he killed. He didn’t know why either, he had buried those memories a long time ago. Shot her by accident, it was a mistake. But the other little girl wasn’t. Chicago was a mistake. Afghanistan was on purpose.

“Sarge… I didn’t kill her on purpose.. I swear, I..” Jay started crying. Voight was confused now, they were talking about charlie, when did he start thinking about the little girl? “It was a hostage situation, I couldn’t do anything, I shot her, I shot her,.. Fuck sarge you gotta believe me.”

Voight stood up, holding Jay's hands and running a hand through his hair, trying to calm him down. He called for a nurse, shook at Jay’s state.

A nurse came running in, her bright pink scrubs not quite fitting with the mood right now.

“Sarge, don’t let me go to jail, I can’t go to leavenworth, I didn’t mean to do it.. I didn’t mean to…” Jay pleaded, pulling on Voights hands, tears streaming down the young detective's face.

“I’m sedating him.” The nurse said, pushing some liquid down Jay’s IV. Quickly, Jay looked tired, holding onto Voight’s hands as tight as he could until he couldn’t hold onto consciousness any longer. “his temp is rising, he might be getting a fever.”

“Get Dr. Choi and Dr. Charles.” Voight demanded. “Fuck Halstead…” He sighed, seating himself back in his plastic chair, still holding onto Jay’s right hand, his other hand now situated by his side.

----- -----

Will stood at the foot of the bed, watching the large bandage get taken off Jay’s thigh. He wasn’t sure how ready he was to see what was underneath.

Dr. Choi looked at Will, watching him reeling in his own thoughts, probably biting back bile with that look on his face too. He’d seen plenty of infections, which they were assuming this was, but Will wasn’t ready to see his brother with an infection.

The bandage was carefully peeled off, revealing the yellow liquid surrounding the surgical site.

Will winced and Dr. Choi sighed. He ordered a round of antibiotics to fight the infection, while he got started on cleaning it. The alcohol hit Jay’s nose, and Will’s, waking Jay up.

His eyes fluttered open, waking up slowly, until the sting of the alcohol hit his nerves, sobering him up completely.

“What the hell?” Jay sprung up, Dr. Choi stopped him before he went too far. Jay stared at his exposed leg. He hadn’t gotten a chance to actually see the damage till now. The incision went from just above his knee to halfway up his thigh, covered in yellow liquid, with a bit of puss in some areas. Jay already wanted to throw up because of his concussion, now he really wanted to throw up.

Dr. Choi noticed his face, and brought out a kidney basin for him to hold.

Ethan pointed at the clipboard while talking to Will, and all Jay could do was watch Will write down something while he fought with his stomach.

It’s going to sting, but we have to clean it. You’re getting an infection, and a fever due to it. Putting you on meds to fight it.

Jay rolled his eyes, and lied back down, fighting back a lot of things. His stomach, his mind, the pain, and the urge not to laugh at Will’s handwriting. Jay raised his left hand, and lied it over his eyes, closing it into a fist like he always did when he had a headache.

The lights were always super bright when he had a headache, so he used his arm as a makeshift eye mask, and put pressure on his face, elevating some of the pain. Will knew this from the years of being his older brother, and rubbed Jay’s arm as they cleaned the wound.

Jay winced when it hurt, and clamped his fist more, biting back any urge to fight Ethan to stop.

Eventually it was done and Jay gave a massive side eye to Ethan while he put the new bandage on. Will lightly hit his arm, giving his silent older brother ‘knock it off’ talk. Ethan pushed new meds into Jay’s IV.

Will used the only sign he knew to tell Jay to rest. Point, and use his hands as a pretend pillow.

Jay’s face scrunched up with pain before shutting his eyes, fighting off all the pain in his body. It came in waves now, sometimes he was okay, in a lot of pain, but he could manage, other times, he couldn’t. This was the time he couldn’t. There were needles of pain all over his body, especially his ribs, and his vision was being swarmed with light.

Will had panicked, seeing his brother like this, and ran to push pain meds. When the meds finally reached Jay’s body, Will watched Jay’s body relax. Sleep threatening to take over, Jay fought, his eyes staying at half mast, blinking with every thought, eventually the young Halstead lost.

The older brother had fought off sleep while watching the younger doze off in a painless bliss. Will had made it his mission to empty Jay’s catheter when he was asleep, so once Jay finally dozed off, he did that.

He knew Jay would feel shame, though he didn’t exactly have the ability to get up and go to the washroom himself, so he shouldn’t have. But it was in the situation currently, so Will dealt with it. If Jay asked, maybe it would bring him a bit more peace knowing his urine was dealt with by his brother, rather than a random nurse, who did it all the time, but, maybe this was Will trying to help where he could. Will couldn’t really figure it out.

----- -----

“Daniel.” Voight nodded, standing in the doorway of his office. It was a small space on the psych floor, but it was cozy. He had a small lamp on the corner of his wooden desk, lit with a warm tone of orange. There were pictures that patients had drawn for him, pinned up to the corkboard that sat on the wall next to his desk.

“Detective Voight, come on in. What would you like to talk about?”

“Jay.” Voight sat, biting his lip. “This morning, he got an infection, caused a fever and delirium nurse said.”

“Fever can cause all sorts of hallucinations.”

“I was talking to him about the guy he killed. Serial bomber. We were trying to apprehend him at the warehouse. Jay went after him, got him, shot him, but he had a dead man’s switch. Went off.” Voight took a breath. “I was telling him that he got him. Jay shot him, Charlie was dead. There was no case to pursue right now. Then he started talking about how he killed a little girl, and he didn’t mean it. He didn’t want to go to Leavenworth. Hostage situation.”

“Well, from the recent events, and his new infection causing a fever, old memories getting brought up is normal.”

“It was just sudden.” Voight clenched his fist against the wooden chair rest. “And I thought he was talking about the little girl he shot here, it was a fluke, we fixed it. But then I find out there was another kid. I want to protect Jay, and then something like this happens and I realize he’s not a kid.”

“Maybe you’re realizing Jay’s more like your son than you want him to be.”

Voight stayed silent. He wanted to come here to get Jay help, not rant to Daniel and talk about Justin.

“Justin didn’t go off to war.”

“But he still had secrets he didn’t want to tell you, yes?”

Voight bit his lip. Dr. Daniel Charles hitting the right buttons and the right time.

“Jay’s going to need a lot of help, and he’s not going to be willing to just accept it. And there’s going to be things that none of you know about, that might get brought back up.”

“But we’re going to be here for him. I’ll be by his side.”

“That’s good. He does need that, but he’ll also want to be alone, or need someone to talk about his time in the military with someone who understands it.”

“Mouse.”

“He could be one person, yes. A veterans group would also be good. He just needs people he can connect with. That understands what he went through. The police force is similar to the military, but he saw a lot of different things overseas that to him, you don’t understand.”

“Should we increase his sessions to twice a week?”

“I think that could be beneficial, but we will have to wait till the infection passes to really assess where he’s at. The infection is really messing with his body, which in turn messes with his mind.”

Voight sighed and stood up. He was done here, he needed to go see Halstead again. “Alright, thanks doc.”

“No problem, and Voight, my doors always open.” Dr. Charles gave a warm smile.

Voight couldn’t stand shrinks. Only when he was in the chair though. Dr. Charles was a great guy and Voight actually liked him, but he saw Dr Charles as Jay's doctor more than someone he could go to. That's why he went to Dr Charles about Jay. He needed someone to help his son.

Chapter Text

Will kept guard of Jay's room when Ruzek visited again. He’d been here a couple times since the first day, but never really stuck around for Jay to wake. Mouse had also been in and out, going for smoke breaks every now and again, Will didn’t even know Mouse smoked.

Jay had been burning up recently, in light of his infection. And was now surrounded by cooling pads, but beads of sweat still littered his face.

Will couldn’t stand it. He wanted to scoop up his little brother like how he did when they were kids and hold him tight. Rock him back and forth and tell him everything would be okay.

Ruzek noticed how tired Will looked.

“How’s our worst patient doing?” Adam tried to joke.

“He’s got a fever, fighting off nightmares and an infection.” Will yawned, resting his head on the edge of the chairs back. “102.”

Ruzek could only nod, unsure what to say. Jay's face crinkled with pain, or concern, while Ruzek stood in the dark.

“I can sit with him so you can sleep.”

“Voight...” Will fought the tiredness. “I’m just waiting for Voight to come back.. I don’t mean leave, I just mean, Voight will be back..”

“I’ll wait for him, you sleep Halstead.” Ruzek stepped closer to Jay, keeping his hands in his jacket pocket, unsure which brother to look at.

Will dozed off as the dim lights shone on Voight, lurking behind Ruzek.

“He’s going to be alright Adam.”

Ruzek looked behind him, slightly startled by his boss's presence.

“Yeah, no I know Sarge.” Ruzek scratched his face. “I just can’t help but think we did something wrong. We missed something. If we did something different he wouldn’t be here, with half his body broken, and his mind in the same condition.”

“Adam,” Voight placed a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “We did what we could. Jay took the shot at the right time. Everyone did it by the books. It was just a bad situation.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.” Ruzek shook his head. “There was nothing we could do, it was a bad situation, it’s going to be alright. But why am I the only one who seems pissed? Will is sitting here, worried, but he’s not angry, you’re not angry, Hailey’s not even angry, she’s just sad and worried and working through it at her desk. I am the only one pissed off and I'm pissed about that.”

“You have every right to be angry Adam.”

“Yeah but so do you. So why aren’t you?”

“I was.“ Voight sighed, taking a sip of the stale cafeteria coffee.

“My wife was in the hospital for weeks, months. Chemo, surgery, all the treatments for her cancer. I was angry, I was pissed and taking it out on the doctors, on my friends, on Al. Camille was angry with me, because I was angry. She just needed comfort. So I'm done being angry. I am upset with the situation, but Halstead needs us now. He doesn’t need our outbursts.” Voight swallowed. Slightly regretting opening so much of his past up to his officer.

Adam sighed. Voight was right. But he was still pissed.

“Fuck man.” Adam muttered under his breath as he left the small hospital room.

----- -----

Day 5 - Feb 18

Jay had opened his eyes slightly, the light shining in from the hallway searing his eyes. He felt cold, but compact, like someone had tucked him in. There was a cold cloth on his forehead that was slightly dripping water down his head, but he didn’t mind it. He could feel someone holding his right hand, their thumb rubbing the top of his hand gently. He tried moving his head over to look at the person but was limited by the neck collar. Gaining more consciousness Jay panicked, realizing how little movement he actually had. His hands had been restrained against the bed, his neck was stuck in a c-collar, and his leg was in a split of some sort.

His panic prompted the machines to beep rapidly, but faintly for Jay. The hand holding his, started taping.

Morse code. Jay stared at the ceiling as the bodies multiplied around him, moving around him. He could see Mouse, Dr. Choi, and his brother. Mouse was the one holding onto his hand, tapping a pattern he recognized immediately.

.- -.. / .... --- -. --- .-. . --

Ad Honorem

For the honor.

It was a saying Mouse picked up from his dad. Mouse had changed the meaning, and used it to spite his dad through every action. So before they went on missions, Mouse would say ad honorem. To spite everything his dad was against. It was the first thing Jay said to Mouse when he woke from his coma. Jay would still say it to this day if he saw Mouse before a bust. He would often text him the saying to Mouse so he knew he was going out.

The tapping calmed him. Realizing Mouse was there, he could relax. Mouse wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Ad Honorem.

Jay gripped onto Mouse’s hand while the faces swayed above him. The tapping continued, the same saying over and over, bringing Jay peace and comfort.

“Heart rate’s back to normal.” Dr. Choi released his breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “His temp is still high, but it’s dropping.”

“Not out of the woods yet.” Will sighed.

“Not yet.” Ethan removed his latex gloves and threw them out on his way out.

Mouse sat back down, tapping the back of Jay’s hand, which was slowly relaxing.

“When can the restraints come off?”

“When the fever is gone. Until then, we can’t guarantee that he won’t hurt anyone over hallucinations.” Will ran his fingers through his ginger hair that needed to be washed. “I don’t want them there either-”

“But it’s necessary, yeah.” Mouse cut in angrily. “It’s always necessary with vets.”

“Mouse-”

“Don’t, Will. I get it.” Mouse wanted to get up and leave. Run out, and get a breath of fresh air. Being in the hospital, whether as a patient or a visitor made his lungs feel constricted. Like his chest was being sat on, like his ribs were suddenly made of tight rubber bands. He couldn’t leave now though, Jay needed him. He was the only thing keeping Jay calm right now. He never should’ve come, he thought.

Will stood for a few moments before deciding to leave the two soldiers alone. There was a bond there that Will would never understand, and he didn’t need to.

Finally, Mouse could have some privacy. His leg started shaking, bouncing up and down, trying to release all the anxiety he had pent up. With one hand in Jay’s, he used his other elbow to hold up his arm which propped his head up, bouncing with the movement of his leg.

“M’se.” Jay rasped. “Mouse.”

.... . .-. . (Here), Mouse tapped, still bouncing his leg.

“It’s okay.” Jay coughed slightly. “I’m okay.”

.-- --- .-. .-. .. . -.. (worried)

“You, you can leave when you need to Greg.” Jay’s breaths were heavy. “I don’t mind. I know.”

-.-. .- -. - / .-.. . .- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / -.-- --- ..- / -.. .. -.. -. - / .-.. . .- ...- . / -- . (can't leave you, you didn't leave me)

“I didn’t listen, to my body, or mind, when you were asleep Greg. I should’ve- I should’ve taken breaks but I didn’t. And I didn’t eat, or sleep, I paid for that.”

The two stayed silent.

.. .-.. .-.. / -.-. --- -- . / -... .- -.-. -.- / .. / .--. .-. --- -- .. ... . / .- -.. / .... --- -. --- .-. . -- (i'll come back I promise ad honorem).

Mouse tapped the back of Jay’s hand one more time before patting his hand.

“Ad Honorem.”

----- -----

Jay was barely awake when Will came back. Mouse was asleep in the chair beside his bed, and Voight had left to go back to work, paperwork needed to get done.

“M’m” Jay whispered. “I miss you.”

“Jay?” Will perked up, forgetting the lack of sound Jay could hear.

Will watched his brother's tired eyes, that sat at half mast, looking towards the window, reaching his right arm out towards it, seemingly ignoring Mouse’s presence in front of him. A small tear dripped down his right eye, sliding down his freckled cheeks.

Will stood up and walked up to Jay, to hold his hand. He was obviously having hallucinations, but he couldn’t help. Not medically, or mentally. He was just his brother who knew nothing about him.

“Mom, don’t leave…” Jay whimpered. “We need you…”

Will watched his younger brother plead to their dead mother, and all he could do is sit there.

“He’s been doing that on and off all day.” Mouse spoke up, adjusting his position in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “He keeps talking to her, asking her to keep him safe, not to leave. At one point he said that he wanted her to meet me.” Mouse just yawned and leaned his head on the back of the chair.

“I hope the meds kick in soon.” Will let go of Jay’s hand, that never held his hand back. He shook his head, and roughed up his greasy hair, he needed a shower desperately.

“Dr. Choi said the meds are working, slowly, albeit, but they are working. Jay’s tough.” Mouse talked, with his eyes closed, almost sensing Will's anxiety in the air.

“I mean, I know that, it’s just, I’ve never seen him like this before. I’ve seen him shot before, I've seen concussions, but this. Mouse, this is different.” Will scratched his forehead, noticing one of Mouse’s eyes open, with an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Nothin’” Mouse shook his head lightly, closing his one open eye. “Just not surprised at how little you know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Will, forget it.” Mouse waved his hand out in front of him, before crossing his arms, seemingly protecting himself.

“No, Mouse, you don’t get to do that.”

“Do what Will? I don’t owe you anything.” Mouse opened his eyes and sat up, upset with Will. “You can ask Jay when he’s awake, and he might tell you because he’s your brother, but I am your brother's friend. That’s all I am to you, so I don’t owe you anything.”

Will scoffed, watching Jay’s vitals again. It seemed to be the only thing grounding him in this situation. Having the visual reminder that Jay was okay. That he was alive.

“Maybe it isn’t about owing me something, maybe I just deserve to know.” Will fixed his gaze on Mouse sternly. “Think of all the times you shut me out of Jay’s life after you two came home. You threw me out of my own brother's life, so maybe I deserve something here, Mouse.”

Mouse clenched his fist. He did not once owe any Halstead anything, other than Jay. Mouse was trying to protect Jay from his family and vice versa after they came home. It was the least he could do when he owed Jay his life and more.

“You shut me out Mouse. Not Jay. You.”

“You don’t get it Will.” Mouse whispered, watching Voight come up to the doorway, leaning on the metal frame. “Sarge.”

“Hey Mouse.”

“We’re not done.” Will growled at Mouse, pushing past Voight.

“What’s up with him?”

Mouse leaned his head on the back of the chair, staring up to the ceiling. “Just said something stupid and he’s pissed I won’t elaborate.”

“Is it about Halstead?”

“Yeah, he was saying how this is the first time he’s seen Jay like this, I made a face, slipped up. Will never saw the outcome of his tours. All he’s seen are healed scars.”

“Hm.” Voight tapped his thumb on the phone occupying his jean pocket. “Will pushes, and Jay’s a brick wall.”

“Yeah.” Mouse bit his lip, a tic he started doing when he started getting clean. If he felt urges, he’d bite his lip, often till it bled.

Voight watched the kid fidget in his small chair. Sometimes he was surprised Mouse had been to war. He just seemed like a lost kid.

“He tried to make me feel bad. And y’know Sarge, I don’t think he’s entirely wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Voight watched Mouse’s leg start to bounce, and his Adam apple bob, under the nervous swallowing.

“When me and Jay got back, we got our apartment, and he was helping me with the physio, and the, y’know, drugs and shit.” Mouse rubbed his fingers together, trying to figure out how to put it all into words. “I thought, the least I could do is keep his brother away. Will left him. He just left, through the darkest shitiest time of Jay’s life. and then we were both struggling, barely holding onto reality, and Jay didn’t need Will. It was one of the last things he needed.”

His hands were shaking, usually when he felt emotions like this, he’d walk down the streets on a cold chicago night and find some dealer who’d sell him anything. After that he’d find himself in his bed, Jay with a cold beer sat in front of him. Then they’d talk about it. Nowadays, he’d find himself in his bed, drinking, or crying, Jay would hear and come in, and lay in his bed. He’d scoop him up into his grasp, and hug him, letting his breathing soothe the soldier to sleep.

“Sometimes I’m just so frustrated with Will. They had a pretty good situation going on and Will dropped the ball, hoping it would come rolling back to him. And I think I stood in front of that ball.”

“That’s a lot of metaphors.” Voight jokes, listening to Mouse’s words, identifying every voice crack, and every break of eye contact.

“Yeah.” Mouse chuckled. “I just- Sarge, maybe I stepped in too much. Protected both of them too much. Will wouldn’t see the PTSD, and Jay wouldn’t have to deal with his family. That’s how I reasoned it.”

“Sounds like you were just being a friend.” Voight shrugged. “Sometimes you protect people, and they only get angry because they don’t know how bad it could have been.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“This is something for the Halstead’s to figure out, not you. You did your part, Mouse.”

“Yeah.” Rubbing his eyes, Mouse watched Jay's chest, steadily moving up and down. “I need a smoke, i’ll be back.” he started pushing himself off the chair, when Voight stood in front of Mouse, holding out his hand.

“No, no. Give me those.” The rough hand was still extended, as Mouse fiddled with the box in his coat pocket.

“I have money, I can buy more.”

Voight gave him a stern look, as if to say, I dare you to try, and Mouse wouldn’t bite. The small white box was handed over, leaving Mouse’s pocket feeling empty.

Voight was right to take them away, it was his substitute for alcohol, or something stronger. Once he was able to get home, he’d have a beer, and tell himself “just the one” but he’d be lying to himself. He’d have another, and maybe take an Advil for his headache he was going to give himself from crying. He’d wait for Jay to come in and lie with him, knowing he wouldn’t cause he’s stuck in the hospital. Or maybe he would stay here, where Voight could keep an eye on him.

“Mouse, I’m going to head home, get some rest before we go to work tomorrow. Let’s go.”

“Sarge, I think I’m gonna stay here.”

“You’re not going to get any sleep sitting in that plastic chair, come on Mouse.”

The two men started walking, and Mouse tapped Jay’s hand before he left, making sure, whether awake or not, he was going to be back.

Jogging up to Voight, who hadn’t waited for him to say his temporary goodbye, Mouse watched the nightly silence of the hospital halls. “Voight, do you think you could drop me off?”

“No.” Voight responded semi bitterly. “Mouse, you’re coming to my house. Jay asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh.” Mouse bit the inside of his cheek.

“And no midnight runs, okay?”

Mouse smirked. “How much did Jay warn you?”

“Bring Mouse home, let him sleep on the couch, no alcohol, or knives, let him do a sweep, no lighters, and he might go on a run.” Voight listed off, leaving out the groans and whispers of his fever. “And make sure you eat something.”

“Sounds about right.”

“So, what do you want for-” Voight checked his old watch, telling him it was past 11pm now. “a very late dinner?”

Mouse just shrugged. “I’m allergic to fish. But I'll eat just about anything.”

“Fish?”

“I would’ve picked peanuts if I had the choice, I hate peanuts, can’t stand peanut butter. Love fish though. Once, when my epi-pen was going to expire, we went out and bought some gourmet fish, like Michelin tier stuff. Sat outside the hospital and ate it out of the take out box.” Mouse chuckled at the fond memory. He left out the part about it being his birthday, and it being a bad anniversary for him, because he liked to think of it as a happier time in his life. “Jay stabbed me with the epi, and we stayed the night at the hospital, because I'm prone to biphasic reactions, but yeah. Killer fish man. Jay had to finish it cause I couldn’t, not being able to breathe and all.”

“You two are some dumbasses.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mouse smirked as the two got into the black truck.

----- -----

Mouse did an initial sweep of the house, in and outside, just to ease his nerves. It was nearing midnight at this point, and they decided to get dinner out, a random fast food chain on the way to Voight’s house. Once he was satisfied, he kicked off his shoes by the door and gently laid down on the beige couch, resting his head on the arm rest. There was a fireplace that sat in front of him, and an old TV from the 80’s sitting in the corner.

“Do you want a blanket, change of clothes, water?” Voight asked, hanging up his leather jacket in the entrance.

“Uh, yeah sure, I'll take a blanket.” Mouse observed the rest of the home. Above the unused fireplace, there was a mantle, full of picture frames, most of them with two kids, one he recognized as Erin, and a woman. He assumed it was Voight’s wife, who he had heard nothing about, other than the fact that she passed away. Each photo seemed quite happy, especially the old one, of a wedding. Voight in a suit, you didn’t see that often, nor did you see a young Voight with longer hair.

He saw the young boys photos from a baby, up to his adult life, while Erin’s photos started when she was in her teens it seemed. Mouse wondered what it felt like to have a family who cared about photos, and memories like Voight did.

The creaking of the steps drew Mouse out of his thoughts, accepting the blanket held out to him.

“I know Jay said you’d want to take the couch, but Erin's room is upstairs, door at the very end of the hall. If you want a bed.”

“Thanks Sarge.”

Voight paused, wondering if he should tell Mouse that they’re not at work, but decided against it. If he was anything like Halstead, It’d be a battle to get him to just call him Voight, instead of “Sarge”. So calling him by a first name was most likely out of the question.

“No problem kid. Bathroom is just down the hall to the right.” Voight pointed down the kitchen hallway.

Mouse just nodded and looked back at the photos for a minute before laying down. Voight watched the young man's breaths, moving his body up and down steadily, which somehow reminded him to put the knives away. He had the safe in the basement, so he moved the large kitchen block to the safe downstairs, bringing the few bottles of scotch he had with them, opting to leave the beer because he only had a six pack, of which there were only 3 left. His gun wasn’t put away yet, clinging close to his waist, waiting to be put in the smaller safe next to his bed.

Making it back up the basement stairs, Mouse was laying still in the same position.

“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, Mouse.”

“Mhm.” Is the only response he got so he decided to go upstairs and get some sleep.

He felt odd about having a member of his unit in his house, though he supposed, Mouse wasn’t in his unit, just in the district. He had Trudy over plenty of times, but he never had a subordinate in his house other than Erin, which was different, and Halstead, once.

He could only smirk at that, because the whole experience was really weird. Worse for Halstead than Voight, but weird nonetheless.

And now Jay was asking Voight to take Mouse under for the night, which, usually he would reject. This time was different, it felt like when Al would visit. Nervous, calm, jittery, and collected all at once. Like a ball of energy seemingly perfectly calm on the outside.

Mouse, nor Jay was Al, and Voight knew that, but he couldn’t help but make the comparison. Once Al was back, Voight needed to check in with him and tell him about the boys.

———

Mouse had slept for 2 hours, making it to 3 am. His nightmare, vivid and gut wrenching, left him with a headache, and feeling nauseous. He searched around the kitchen, checking the fridge, clanking around different bottles, where he found some beer. Beer was beer, one couldn’t hurt.

He couldn’t find any Advil, so he took the beer and the blanket Voight left him, to go sit on the front porch.

The old lightbulb lit the small porch that had two chairs and a glass table looking over the driveway and street. It kind of reminded him of his Dad’s house, and the countless nights he found himself sitting on the front porch with an ice pack or bandages and a beer late at night. Sometimes it was the only chance he got to breathe.

Opening the bottle with the edge of the table, Mouse fidgeted with the bottle cap, letting the scent of beer linger around the air, before inevitably taking a sip.

The liquid danced around his taste buds as he swished it around his mouth, leaning his head back and swallowing, feeling the cheap alcohol coat his throat with a thick lining of guilt.

The screen door creaked open, with Voight standing, his rough physique dully lit by the porch light.

“A little early for beer.” Voight said, taking a seat in the vacant chair.

“Not too early for nightmares.” Mouse muttered, taking another sip.

Voight watched Mouse’s mouth, which hadn’t swallowed the beer yet.

“Nightmare wake you up?”

Mouse looked down the street, somewhat hoping Jay would swoosh in and save him from the difficult conversation to come.

“Usually.” Is the only response he felt like giving.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mouse subtly shook his head, then cocked it slightly, unsure of his own feelings. “Yes and no.”

“Yes you want to talk about it, but no, not with me?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Mouse fingered the rim of the bottle in his hand. “I don’t know, it’s hard to talk about it with anyone other than Jay.”

Voight leaned back into the metal chair, his butt being cushioned with the chair cushions his wife made him years ago. “That’s understandable. I don’t know what you went through over there. I can only listen.”

“There’s more to it than just listening. There’s an understanding that you just don’t have. Chicago and over there are the same, black and white, good and bad, type situations that ground me. But, over there, there’s the little experiences that you don’t get.”

Mouse adjusted the blanket he placed in his lap. “You know what it’s like to kill, but you don’t know You don’t know the inside jokes, or the MRE’s, or the pissing in a hole in the ground, or the feeling when you and your buddies are laughing their asses off because we almost got hit by an RPG.”

Mouse shook his head. He could talk, but he couldn’t, talk, if that makes sense.

“I know what it’s like to kill.” Voight repeated. “Philosophical.”

“Sorry.” Mouse felt like he needed to apologize. He didn’t know why.

“Don’t be.” Voight played with the bottle resting on the glass table. “You’re right, that we both know what it’s like to kill. And you’ll never understand my side, and I’ll never understand yours. But we understand each other. We understand that guilt.”

Mouse nodded. He didn't share as much as he’d like to, but he knew it would be a mistake if he shared anything more than he did.

“Jays deaf.” The realization came to Mouse. “Fuck, man.” He brung the bottle up to his head, resting his forehead against the cold bottle.

“He just blew his eardrums, they’ll heal, Mouse.”

“No, Sarge. They’re fucked this time. It all caught up with him, he can’t hear shit.” Mouse gripped the bottle tighter.

“I’ll talk to Will.” Voight could only really offer his services. “He’ll get through this Mouse.”

“I know, he always does, but this is a lot. If this is permanent?”

“Hey, Mouse, look at me, one step at a time, okay? We’ll have his back, like we always do.”

Mouse just nodded and bit his lip after taking another sip of his beer. Eventually the two had sat out there long enough that Mouse had fallen asleep, but Voight watched over him as the dark blue sky turned a light blue into pinks and oranges, the clouds looking like strokes of a painting.

They’d figure it out, they’d figure it all out, and Voight would protect them, as much as he could.

Chapter Text

Day 6

Mouse found himself following behind Voight again, making their way to Jay’s hospital room. It was around 9 am, and Will texted Voight that Jay’s infection was clearing up, so they were pretty confident he could get his cast on soon, and get out in the next few days. Mouse was skeptical, but he also had only been awake for about a half hour.

“Morning.” Will looked at Voight, and avoided contact with Mouse. “Jays temp is down to 98. Had a nightmare, but he’s fine. They’re going to assess his leg today, and then probably put a cast on tomorrow, or late tonight.”

“Thanks Will.” Voight nodded, watching Mouse stare off away from Will.

“Yeah. I also got him an audiologist appointment for tomorrow.”

Both men watched as Will left with his bag over his shoulder, most likely headed home. Mouse rolled his eyes, and walked into the room, sitting in the same plastic chair he was in last night. Voight sat outside the door, conversing with Dr Choi, who had just come to check up on Jay.

“I know you can’t hear me, Sarge, but...” Mouse swallowed. “You really scared me there.”

Mouse laughed to himself, in the sterile air. Biting his lip, he grabbed ahold of Jay's hand, tapping Ad Honorem in his palm.

“Mouse.” Jay breathed as he woke. “You gotta get me out of here.” Jay chuckled, before the pain shuddered through his chest.

-. --- / -.-. .- -. / -.. --- (no can do)

“Eh, once I get out of here, I’m going to fight you.” Jay smirked, keeping his eyes shut, his concussion symptoms still raging.

.-- .... . -. / .- -. -.. / .-- .... . .-. . (when and where) Mouse tapped into Jay's palm, wiping off the leftover sweat from his fever the last couple of days. Jay sat silent, wanting to talk more, but unsure what to say.

.... . .- .-. .. -. --. / .- .--. - / - --- -- -- --- .-. --- .-- (hearing apt tomorrow)

“What happens-” Jay choked. “What happens if I’m too deaf? I won’t be a cop.”

Mouse perked up, and decided to pull the clipboard from the side table to write instead of ranting to Jay through taps.

Finishing his scribbles, Mouse tapped Jay's hand, passing the clipboard to Jay.

Don’t go there. We don’t know anything yet. Just wait till tomorrow, then we’ll know. Okay?

Jay nodded, his hair scratching on the pillow under his head.

“You know, Mouse. I keep having nightmares, and- all I can hear- is- is your screams.” Jay brought his hand up to the c-collar that kept his neck stiff. “I hear your screams- and- and I wake up- and I still hear them. I rely a lot on the sounds to ground me, but now I can’t do that Greg.”

Mouse sat still, he remembered what it was like when they got stateside after the humvee accident. They had a two bedroom apartment, but slept in the same bed, so that when Jay woke up from nightmares, he could hug Mouse tight and have the physical reminder that he was safe, they both were.

“You know how it was when we got our apartment. I would put my fingers on your neck, so I could feel your pulse, and I would listen to you breathe, just to make sure you were alive.” Jay opened his eyes and watched Mouse’s expressions twitch under the dimmed lighting. “I don’t have that here. I don’t have anything, except that beeping, that I can just barely hear. And when I focus enough, I can hear the nurses talk when they come in, but I can’t really make out what they’re saying. Mouse, I just need, I need something, I don’t know.”

Searching for someway to ground Jay, Mouse scooted closer to the bed, pinning his legs between the bed and the chair. Mouse reached up and gently yanked Jay’s arm over the side of the bed, fumbling with his hand to pull his fingers up, pressing them against his neck. He let Jay adjust the position of his fingers, searching for his pulse. Mouse closed his eyes, gripping onto Jay’s hand and feeling his artery pump against the pressure.

Mouse kept his eyes closed, finding comfort in the pressure against his neck, its familiarity calming him.

“Mouse, could you come here?” Jay patted the slight empty space beside him on the bed. “I can move over.”

Mouse looked at Jay, almost with a longing for his touch. He felt so worried, and scared, and he didn’t really know why. Sleeping next to Jay was exactly what he wanted but he didn’t want to cause any trouble, or worse, hurt Jay.

Jay could sense the uneasiness of Mouse, considering there was no response.

“You don’t- only if you want to.” Jay struggled with his thoughts. Part of him was feeling guilty, as if he just committed a deep sin, but it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before.

After a few moments, Mouse went to the other side of the bed, and climbed in, gently pushing Jay over slightly, so he could make room for himself.

There wasn’t much space, but he made just enough so that he could lay on his side, and wrap his arm around Jay’s chest.

Jay’s breathing seemed to calm as Mouse rubbed Jay's ribs with his thumb, and the two slowly dozed off.

----- -----

Will wasn’t sure if Jay had noticed that his pain was mostly gone while he was awake. Maybe Jay thought he was getting better. He didn’t know, but Will did know he was putting pain meds in Jay’s IV when he was starting to wake up. The morphine pump was useless to Jay, as he avoided using it unless he was about to throw up in pain. So Dr. Choi and Will talked and thought it best for them to decide when to give him meds. Will was his medical proxy, he thought, but Jay was awake, so he felt bad doing it as a doctor, but not as a brother.

Jay had just started to wake, squirming slightly around Mouse’s body, finding himself comfortable and settling again.

Will sat in the chair in the corner for a few minutes, eating his lunch while Jay and Mouse slept.

It was kind of cute, he thought. Two army rangers sleeping in bed together after being horrifically brought back to Afghanistan mentally. And he swore he could hear Jay whispering something to Mouse every now and again. Or it was his ears making something out of the beeping in the room.

Will finished his salad, as Dr. Choi came in to check on Jay.

“Will.” Ethan gave him a look. “You know this is against hospital policy.”

“Hey, I'm here as a brother, not a doctor. I’m on my break.” Will smiled, clicking the container lid down and putting it back in his bag.

“How am I supposed to get him out of the bed?”

“You could always wait till they wake up. Jay was stirring earlier, but fell back asleep.” Will walked up to the door, where Ethan stood, ready to get back to the ED. “Don’t forcefully wake them up though. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Halstead you’re not helping!” Ethan yelled down the hall as Will walked away, and started jogging when Ethan yelled.

Ethan did find it funny though. The way Mouse’s leg was intertwined with Jays uninjured one, slightly resting against the edge of Jay’s splint. Mouse’s head was snuggled into the crook of Jay’s armpit, and Jay's arms held Mouse tight. Mouse only took up around a fourth of the bed, Jay using the rest. He knew Adam and Trudy would want to take a memento of this moment, so Ethan did his due diligence and took a photo, sending it to Trudy.

Update on Halstead. He’s doing alright. :)

Trudy laughed when she got the photo. She was glad Jay and Mouse finally sorted their stuff out. Nothing was against them, but their PTSD. The hurdle wasn’t fully overcome, but they were getting there.

----- -----

Day 8

Jay held onto the clipboard, holding a blank piece of white paper. A pen stuck out of the clip, ready to be used when needed. His pain was still there, just reduced enough that he could bite it back, and no one would really know. He needed people to stop looking at him like he was a wounded puppy, with worry and guilt staining all parts of their faces.

He had a drug pump by his side, just in case he needed more meds, but anyone who knew Jay, knew he really wasn’t going to use it, so Will would come in every now and again when Jay looked in discomfort and put Jay’s hand on the button, making sure he knew he had the option. Jay at this moment actually did want to push the button. His pain wasn’t unbearable, but this conversation was. The audiologist was sitting beside Jay, mostly talking to Voight and Will, but writing everything down so Jay could be somewhat a part of the conversation. Everything wasn’t as underwater anymore, more like, distant, quiet. That’s what this was about. Hearing loss, brought on by years and years of trauma to his ears. Fire fights, bombs, concussions, hits to the ears, and this last explosion was just a trigger to bring it all tumbling down. Voight had often noticed himself repeating things to Halstead before and now he knew that the deepness of his voice was just hard for him to catch sometimes.

“We can easily solve this with hearing aids. Learning sign language is also an option.” The doctor explained, writing it down as well, then passing the sheet to Jay.

“Can I still be a cop?” Jay spoke. He was deaf at this point, not mute, and it surprised everyone when he did talk. He had been so silent, basking in pain, and anxiety over the thought of losing his job.

“I’ll be able to tell you after you’ve done the hearing test. Currently, the standards are if you have more than 40 db of hearing loss, considered mild hearing loss, it's difficult to be in the first responder career. There is a possibility that your hearing is worse than it actually is, due to the blast. I suggest we do another hearing test in a few weeks to test that. If you do turn out to have moderate hearing loss, I still believe you could be in the job you are now, with hearing aids. There may be a legal battle, I’m not sure.” Dr. Gresoft tried to explain lightly, but there were just some things she wasn’t sure of. Most of her clients could continue living a semi-normal life with hearing aids, and if Jay Halstead was in the right range of hearing loss, he’d be living a semi-normal life, with the assistance of hearing aids. But if he wasn’t, this man's life as he knows it is over for him, his job would shun him away, medically discharged.

“Hearing aids will assist with boosting the sound, acting like a speaker in your ear. I would recommend you and your team learn ASL so that if your hearing aids were to come off you would still have a method of communication.”

Voight was just taking it all in. Will as well, stunned by the words. They both knew there was nothing wrong with Jay being hard of hearing, he was already on the path, and was dealing with it. But now it had just suddenly caught up.

“I’d like to do a hearing test when you are able to, then we can plan from there.” The doctor smiled, and wrote to Jay nodding and smiling before saying to the older men standing by Jay. “Let me know.”

Jay bent his head back, pressing back down on the pillow. Voight tapped his thigh that had been splinted and covered in bandages and its own blanket, grabbing his attention.

“What.” Jay perked his head up slightly, looking for what Voight wanted to say. He was frustrated. He just wanted to hear normally. Half of him was glad that he couldn’t hear the beeping of the heart monitor, that was about all he was grateful for in this situation. He wanted to walk outside and hear the birds again. They’d be growing more and more distant as the years went on. He wanted to be in a conversation without missing half of what the person said when they turned away.

When Jay was honorably discharged from the military, he had a friend who did a hearing test for him before he left, telling him that his hearing was significantly less than when he joined up, which made sense, but he could function fine, so he ignored it. Now years went on, and when Jay joined intelligence Voights voice was the easiest to hear, Atwater's and Dawson’s on that list too, but Hailey and Burgess weren’t as easy, Mouse was probably the only one that he was right on the fence about. Often needing to try and watch lips that he couldn’t read, or pick up on whatever the men said so he understood. Trudy was the voice Jay heard the best out of the women, her booming voice was at the best volume for his ears, though still difficult to hear at times.

Now he couldn’t hear anything really. He heard when Voight talked, but he didn’t really hear it, he heard the movement, the gravel, but that was it. He couldn’t make out the words, but he could hear glimpses. When the explosion first happened, it was all ringing, that's it. When he woke up after surgery, he could hear Ethan's voice, but not quite the words, he only made out his own name. Jay. Now days later it was still around the same. He could hear the voices, but it was all kind of mumbled, if they weren’t talking right at him at a louder level than usual, he wouldn’t catch all of it, probably 60% of it. That one time Jay was half asleep and Will came up to his ear to say I love you, Jay heard it perfectly.

Do the hearing test. After that, we’ll figure it out, okay? Voight wrote down.

“I’m just frustrated. I can’t do anything except sleep, and when I'm not sleeping I'm in pain, or just watching people move around in my room, trying to talk to me when I can’t hear you guys. I mean, I hear it, I hear the voices, but the words are lost and blurry, between the beeping machines and the business outside, I can't make out most of the words anymore. And even when I am asleep, all I can hear.. “ Jay choked, not wanting to explain the nightmares. “I’m going to do the hearing test, but after that I'm signing out AMA, I can’t stand it here anymore.”

Jay ranted on, tears welling in his eyes, but never releasing. Will obviously didn’t think he should leave. He was still in a lot of pain, and forcing it down. It had only been little over a week since the explosion, but there was no reason for Jay to stay in the hospital. They were just giving him morphine and monitoring him. He had oxygen, but he was breathing fine on his own now. He had a catheter, but he could go to the bathroom fine, he just wasn’t allowed to get out of bed. The only reason he was here now was for the hearing test and morphine.

Voight just nodded and said okay. That was about the only word Jay could lip read.

----- -----

Will was on his break now, taking as many days that Dr. Goodwin would offer him, but his time was up. Using up his 30 minute break, he went with Jay, who was stuck in a wheelchair with his IV and morphine on a pole behind him. His clipboard for responses was in lap, where his hands fidgeted, picking at the splints on his left hand, or when he was in pain, his hands served as a pressure for his ribs.

Will pressed the elevator button, staying behind his brother, waiting for the doors to open. Will was at a loss right now. He wanted to talk to his brother, who was stuck in his own world.

The elevator ride up was bland, and quiet. They reached the audiology floor, and Will wheeled Jay down the hall to get his test done. He sat in the booth, staying in the dull wheelchair he was already in. Dr. Gresoft explained everything through the sheet of paper.

You’re going to put the headphones on, and all you have to do is press the button when you hear a sound. They’ll be short frequencies and words after.

From his days in the army, he didn't need the explanation. Hearing tests came with every physical. He just didn’t want to be doing this again. He begrudgingly put the headphones on, waiting for a sound, and a few came. He heard the high pitch shit that hurt his ears, feeling like he had just been shot in the ear with imaginary icicles or something. The wince from the sound came with a wince from his ribs, curling back in on himself. Will rubbed Jay’s back, while Jay kept doing the test, from a bent over position in his chair. He just needed this to be done.

Will took off the headphones when it was over, only able to rub Jays back as comfort.

“You have Moderately Severe Sensorineural Hearing Loss. This means that your inner ear, due to the repetitive trauma to your ear, is injured, your ears cannot process the same sound as before, they need to be louder for you to hear it. The moderately severe part, means that you can hear in the 55-70 decibel range, but certain frequencies are harder than others. I do believe that after maybe a month, your hearing will heal more, but we will have to do a test in a month or so to confirm." That wasn’t too hard for Jay to process, but now came the process of making the molds before actually getting the hearing aid and programming it.

“I do suggest getting hearing aids for this amount of hearing aids, if your hearing does heal throughout the month, they can be reprogrammed to a lower volume essentially to fit your needs. Would you like to get a hearing aid?” she wrote down on her computer, letting Jay read the screen.

Jay nodded after processing the words. He wasn’t prepared for all the different options and processes

“There are different types of hearing aids, but for your job, I would highly suggest the behind the ear, as it would sit in your ear, molded to the shape of your ear. This would prevent possibly losing it due to high activity and movement. With this type of hearing aid, the microphone would not be directed towards the person in front of you, it would be pointed behind, and beside you. If you think you’d rather change the direction of the microphone, separate microphones are available.”

Jay was getting stressed. He just wanted the hearing aid, put it on and be cured. He didn’t want to go through the in’s and out’s of every type of hearing aid there was. For the first time he actually wanted to be back in his hospital bed, doing nothing, worrying about only nightmares and Mouse. Jay stopped paying attention, Will knew this, besides he couldn’t hear it, and he probably felt out of the conversation, ignoring everything being written down for him. Jay scratched his head, bent over to elevate some of the pain in his ribs.

Picking up on Jay’s emotional distance from the conversation, she directed the conversation to just Will. “In terms of external microphones, I would suggest a clip on, or a necklace type, due to his job, it would be imperative to be careful with it. He also has the option of batteries, or having a rechargeable aid. After that, it’s just colors he gets to choose. He can choose to go with nude and natural colors to stay slightly concealed, or he can choose other colors.”

Jay sat there in pain, nauseous. He really didn’t have the energy to deal with all this, but he knew Will would do it for him. That’s what big brothers were for. Will would explain it all in a way Jay could digest, with small bites, leaving out the options and explanations that he didn’t need.

“One last thing with the behind the ear, if he choses to get them, he would need to get new molds each year. He would also need to come in once a year to get the hearing aids reprogrammed, which is the same for them all.”

Will nodded, and asked if she could write all these down so Jay and him could talk about it later.

“I think it's best if he does the behind the ear, that way you can just do the molds now and we can deal with the rest later, if that's alright?”

“Yep! If you don’t choose a color now, that’s alright, but I do have to wait till you choose a color to order them.”

Will nodded, looking at Jay who was sitting slightly diagonally in the chair, trying to rest his head on the edge of the wheelchair seat, with his arms wrapped around his chest. His face seemed to be in pain, and all Jay was doing was watching. He didn’t say anything, just watched, focused on breathing.

“Do I get to choose colors?” Jay hitched up one side of his lips, in slight pain.

Will wrote down, yes, she’s going to do the molds in your ears, and she’ll give us the colors for you to choose.

Some of Jay wanted to just get nude. Match his hair and skin tone. Then it would be hidden, as hidden as it could be. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain it like that. Picking nude colors just seemed to be pushing it further away. Ignoring it. Jay wasn’t sure if he wanted to ignore it.

Jay sat uncomfortably while the cotton ball was pressed into his ear. It didn’t affect a whole lot of his hearing, just drowning out more of what was already drowned. Now there was just the silicone left. Dr. Gresoft held a weird caulking gun shaped tool. It was cold, and Jay hated the consistency of it. He squirmed slightly in his wheelchair, while the other ear was filled. Now Jay just needed to sit in complete silence for around five minutes. He was actually fine with the drowned noises. It annoyed him not being able to make out words, but there was at least some noise. He could hear commotion, but not whispers, but there was sound. Right now this impression was taking away any sound at all from getting into his ear and he hated it. Dr. Gresoft picked up on his uncomfort, showing him the sheet of colors for his mould, the case, and the tube.

Jay ended up choosing clear for his mold, black for the case. Jay actually smiled a little, while he and Will chose colors. Will had joked about getting him a set that was neon pink, and Jay shot him a look, like “I know where you live” and Will laughed at him.

----- -----

Jay was asleep again, probably his last time sleeping in the hospital for now. Will had done everything needed for Jay’s hearing aids that would show up in a week or two. Now they just needed to get Jay home and situated. Will was worried. Jay was going to hide his pain, ignore it, and suffer, even though there were plenty of people around who care about him. Now he was hard of hearing. He could voice what he needed, he just couldn’t hear the responses that came after. Not unless they were physical, or written down. Will wished they had learned sign earlier in life, but that came with wishing he could assume this was going to happen. He knew he was throwing himself into bullshit trying to make it easier. They would learn to sign together, for when Jay needed it. They would start with simple signs like shower, food, medication, pain, ect, so that they could communicate Jay’s needs to him. That would be the start.

For now Will watched his younger brother sleep, underneath the darkness of the room, only having a slim shine of the hallway luminescence glowing on his abdomen.

----- -----

Severide slammed the squad truck door closed after he hopped out of it. The smoke from the fire they had just been to was painting his face in different patches that he tried to wipe away with his hand, failing.

Pushing open the doors to the 21st district, Severide pushed between the crowds of uniforms and random people to the front desk to see Trudy Platt.

“Hey Trudy.”

“Kelly! Why are you here?”

“Looking for Voight, gotta talk to him about Jay. Seen him around?” Severide patted the front desk.

“He should be around, I can call him.” Trudy looked at Severide with a slight bit of concern.

“Thanks Trudy.” Severide gave her a wave while he waited. He watched the officers walk back and forth, wandering from one person to another, or out the door.

Around 5 minutes passed when Voight finally walked down the bullpen stairs and called Severide over.

“Severide, come on up.” Voight waved Severide over, letting him up the stairs to the bullpen.

When he got up the stairs it was completely empty. The desks were still filled with papers, pictures and messes from their previous case, but it was silent, filled with no one. He could see Kevin Atwater in the coffee room, looking out the window while sipping his coffee, but other than Atwater and Voight, everyone was probably out on cases, or at the hospital.

“I wanted to talk to you about Jay, when we found him at the explosion.” Severide explained.

“Sure, close the door, and sit.” Voight showed him into his office, which had a comforting vibe, but he could also see why it would be intimidating.

“When we found him he was just sitting there, breathing through the pain, with his radio up to his mouth.” Severide went through the memory from last week. It had freaked a lot of them out, especially him, since he knew Jay a little more than the rest of them. “He looked at me and at Mills then pulled his gun on us. I don’t know where he thought he was, but he was yelling something in some other language, until he realized we were who we are. Then he just told us to help Mouse.”

Voight looked at the photo of his team on his desk. Jay Hasltead, decorated war vet, decorated intelligence detective for the Chicago police department. Two tours in Afghanistan, saw his mother die in front of him, saw six of his friends get killed in action. Been kidnapped and tortured, in-country and overseas. Shot too many people. The kid had seen too much.

“Look, I know this probably isn’t that helpful, and probably hurts you guys more, but Jay thought we were going to kill him. He thought we were whoever he was fighting overseas. We ran what he said through a translator, he was telling us to put the guns down and raise our hands. And with the injuries he had, you’d expect there to be some tiredness to his voice, some pain but no, he was just full on yelling. Full force. Some of my guys are still shaken up about it, Mills especially. Some of them have never met Jay, nor have had guns be involved with a call. Never really seen PTSD.”

“I don’t know what I'm really trying to do with this conversation, but my guys haven’t talked about it to anyone, only me. Dawson talked to Antonio about it, but she wasn't in there, so she could only talk about the ambo ride, which you know how that went better than me. I guess I want to explain to them what they saw, but I don’t want to overstep. I mean, they all know what they saw, but they don’t understand.”

Voight just sat there staring at the picture nodding his head. He didn’t know what to tell Severide honestly. His chair creaked as he shifted.

“Tell them the truth. I’m going to protect Jay as much as I can. But I don’t want your guys to be confused, or scared of Jay. He’s a good cop. A good cop who also has PTSD. It wasn’t a good situation, but your boys handled it well.” Voight sighed. He couldn’t protect Jay, and Jay wasn’t a kid who needed Voight to protect him from every little inconvenience. “Tell them why, just don’t go into all the details, Jay deserves some privacy. Just don’t let them be afraid of him.”

“Alright. Thanks Voight. How is Jay doing by the way?” Severide wasn’t sure what he was trying to get out of this conversation, but he did get something out of it. He could reassure Mills that it was a one time thing, for the most part. It’s kind of a hazard of the job, interacting with people with PTSD. They just didn’t expect that person to be close to them.

“Getting better. I’ll try to get him to stop by the firehouse when he’s out of the hospital. If that’s alright with your guys.”

“No problem, we’d like Jay to come around, just make sure he brings some of those donuts you stash around here.”

“Alright get out of here hot head.” Voight jokes, throwing a crumbled up sticky note at him while he left the room.

Severide headed out of the district, saying goodbye to Trudy on the way out, telling her to keep the firehouse updated. Once he got outside, the sun glared in his eyes while he got back in the squad truck.

“What’d you do in there Lieutenant?” Mills inquired from the back seats.

“Talked to Voight. We all gotta talk about what happened at the warehouse explosion.” Severide explained while the squad truck started up.

----- -----

Mouse sat in the uncomfortable chair again, watching Jay furrow his eyebrows at Choi, who was talking to Will with a clipboard in his hand.

Jay had been given his paperwork to get signed out AMA, and was relaying all the information to Will. Mouse listened too, taking note of medical words he didn’t know.

-.-- --- ..- / --- -.- .- -.-- (you okay) Mouse tapped Jay's hand, watching his eyes drift.

“I just want to go home.” Jay whispered.

The next few moments were annoying. Jay watched as Choi removed his catheter, and changed out all of the bandages and pads of gauze. He double checked his leg cast, and his wrist cast before checking his ribs, which still hurt like hell, but Jay wouldn’t say that.

For the most part, he was okay. He just needed to rest, and heal. Choi was skeptical that Jay could do that alone at home, knowing what it’s like to be a vet.

Mouse stood, watching protectively while Will had left some time ago to grab his things. He watched as Choi brought the wheelchair around, and he helped Jay off the bed and onto the chair.

For a moment, Mouse could breathe, and take in the fresh air of the outdoors, and think to himself, it was all okay.

Jay was safe, and Will was by his side, and they were like a little group, who would weather this storm coming up as much as they could.

The drive over in Wills' car was long, as Jay sat in the passenger seat only because his car was too small for Jay to sit comfortably with the cast. Mouse watched Jays head bob against the headrest as he slept, the neck collar still extending his head up.

Once they got to the apartment, which had no elevator, the two men helped Jay up the few flights of stairs before finally getting to his apartment.

Mouse had cleaned it up a few days ago, and hid the things he knew Jay would want, or potentially want depending on his mental state. Jay laid on the couch, with Mouse’s assistance as Will went back down to the car to grab his stuff and Jay’s new crutches.

For now this was their norm that they would survive, and Mouse could watch Jay intently from the recliner just adjacent to the couch. He sat, watching Jay's steady breaths, moving his chest up and down.

He exhaled.

They were safe.