elius-learns-to-write - Tumblr blog

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

As It Was

A/N: Hello! I know I've been MIA for a long time. Life has been crazy and going back to college while having a full time job has taken a lot of my time. But I'm hoping to get back to writing on this blog. I've missed it and I have missed everyone so much. I make no promises but I'm going to try.

Summary: Arthur and Y/n have always been super close; but when the boys get back from the war, things have change.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions Arthur's attempt at suicide

Word Count: 2,698

*gif is not mine*

The rumor about the men who came back from the war are not the same men that left; It’s true. No one came back the same after the war. Not a single soul.

But it wasn’t just the soldiers who changed. Those who were stuck at home, waiting for their loved ones to return. They changed too.

Y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she changed. She just remembers one day realizing she’s not the little girl who loved to draw rainbows, horses, and flowers anymore. Or the little girl who taught Finn how to aim at a moving rat, even though their Aunt Polly despised them touching guns. Not even the little girl who would take walks with her favorite brother, Arthur.

Y/n would never say she has a favorite brother aloud, but she knows her family sees how close the oldest brother and youngest sister are. There may be eighteen years difference between them, but they would sometimes act like twins.

Y/n enjoys John’s company and loves his jokes. Finn, she will always protect and care for. Ada, well they clash on fashion and boys, but they would kill for one another. And Tommy, well, the two siblings have never been able to get along. Tommy had big dreams that didn’t include his baby sister. Greta wanted to change the world and wanted Tommy to help her. Y/n wanted Tommy to help take care of the family instead of spending all his time at the docks waiting for the young woman to show up.

Even at a young age, Y/n knew it would always be Tommy who would provide for the family; be their leader. She loves Arthur, but he’s more of a follower than a leader. Tommy has always had ideas and Y/n knew those ideas would help them rise in Small Heath.

So with the boys off fighting in the war, Y/n made sure to follow her brother’s orders on how to run the shop.

Polly was the only one Y/n would let stray from Tommy’s list.

“You’re ten years old, Y/n. You are not the boss and know nothing about bets.” Her aunt admonishes.

“I know enough, Polly. I have Tommy’s list and Arthur’s notes.”

“So now you’re an expert at running betting shops?”

“I wasn’t saying that.” The ten year mumbles.

“Then you’ll do your best to remember who is in charge of the business.”

Y/n knows when to stop when it comes to her aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/n will admit, she learnt a lot from her aunt; not just business, but women’s business.

But now that the war is over, Y/n’s noticed how more involved Tommy is; how he keeps adding to the business.

Arthur is less present when it comes to his baby sister. They don’t go on walks anymore.

The fourteen year old moved into Arthur’s home when they came back. She wanted away from her very controlling brother and closer to the brother she knows best.

Except now, it seems that she understands Tommy more than she does Arthur.

The war may have changed all of her brothers, but something broke in Arthur. His nightmares keep her up at night and the one time she tried to wake him up, he almost choked her to death.

After that, she would either lay in her bed, listening to his screams or she would get John if the screams lasted longer than ten minutes.

“You shouldn’t be at Arthur’s alone.” Tommy tells his sister as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m not alone. Arthur is there.”

“You know what I mean, Y/n. Arthur is struggling and you being around isn’t helping.”

Y/n scoffs. “Actually, I think I help Arthur more than you can ever imagine trying to help him. You just hate that I’m not under your roof and you can’t boss me around.”

Tommy points his lit cigarette at her, his eyebrows raised in warning. “You will do as you're told or I will turn you over my knee.”

Y/n once again scoffs. Tommy has never disciplined her, he wasn’t ever around to take her in hand. That dirty task was left to their aunt. “Not only am I fourteen years old, but you have never raised a hand to me. Why start now?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n.”

Yeah, he’s bluffing, Y/n thinks. She stands to her feet. “Yes sir, Sergeant Major. If that’s all, Sergeant, I would like to finish my studies. Wouldn’t want to show up to school without my work now would we?”

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to keep arguing with his sister. He, instead, waves his hand in a dismissive gesture without even glancing up.

The day Y/n dreaded came. Arthur had tried to commit suicide by hanging himself after he fell for their father’s con. She had found him at their home, raging and destroying the room. She skillfully dodged his swings and shouted at him.

“Arthur! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” She ducks when he throws an ashtray at her head. “It’s Y/n, brother!”

“Y/n?”

The broken voice has Y/n on the verge of tears. “Yes.” She nods her head. “It’s Y/n. I’m here.” She makes her way to her brother as his knees buckle and he lands on the floor. She holds him close, his chin digging into her shoulder as he sobs.

Y/n doesn’t know how long they stay in this position but she loses feeling in her left shoulder and feet.

When Arthur finally is able to compose himself, he stands to his feet, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair.

“Arthur, what happened to your neck?”

The older man covers the deep bruise around his neck. “Nothing.”

Y/n starts to shake her head, the pieces falling together. “No, no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave me here.” She stops talking but her head is still moving side to side; not wanting to accept that her brother, her hero, tried to kill himself.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” She sharply cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I just need a moment to process.” She sits in a chair that he hadn’t flipped yet. “I need to figure out what to do. I need- no you need some of Polly’s ointment, and a drink… yeah, yeah.” She stands to her feet, ignoring the concerned look coming from her brother. “Sit down, Arthur. I’ll pour you some whiskey and get some ointment to help with the bruising.

“Y/n, I don’t- fuck.” Arthur curses when she completely ignores him and heads for the kitchen.

Only a few minutes pass until Y/n comes back. She hands the glass of whiskey to him and starts applying the ointment.

Y/n stayed with her brother until he decided to go to bed. She heads up to her room. In the morning, she’ll tell Polly. Fuck knows what Tommy will say if he hears about this. She never knows if he will help Arthur or make it worse.

In the morning. Y/n told her aunt and she should have known her aunt would tell their fearless leader. So she wasn’t surprised to see him walk in as she hands Arthur a cup of tea.

The look Tommy sends her is clear.

She smiles softly at her eldest brother. “I will be up in my room if you need me.” She tells him, her invitation not extending to the other brother.

She heads upstairs but does not go into her room. She sits on the top step, listening as Tommy belittles their brother. She rolls her eyes. She should’ve known Tommy would never express real feelings.

“Just use a fucking gun, man.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Y/n shouts as she storms down the stairs. “That’s all you have? Next time, use a gun?”

“Leave it be, Y/n.”

Y/n glares at Arthur. “No, Arthur, I can’t just leave it be.” She turns her glare back at the brother she is upset with. “I know it’s hard for you to express feelings now, but I would rather you not say anything at all than talk to our brother that way. He deserves better.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

“Fuck off, Thomas!” She shouts as she steps in his space. “You only care about having Arthur around so he can beat and kill people who piss you off. That’s all that matters to the all powerful Tommy Shelby.”

The slap echoes throughout the whole house, each sibling frozen in their place.

Y/n holds a hand over her now stinging cheek, staring at the man who has never raised a hand to her. Her and Tommy may not get along but she never thought he would physically harm her. Never.

She turns to Arthur, wondering how he will react. To her surprise he’s staring at her in disappointment.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Tommy like that, Y/n. You were out of line.”

“I was out of line?” She snaps. “What am I supposed to do, Arthur, eh? Am I supposed to stand at attention and wait for the sergeant to bark orders? Huh?”

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice still booms, causing his baby sister to flinch, preparing for another blow.

The guilt had already come, but seeing her flinch made Tommy feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n, I-” He reaches out to comfort her but stops when she steps back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. I hate you.” She looks at Arthur. “I hate you both.”

“Let her go, Arthur.” Tommy orders when the eldest Shelby stands to follow Y/n who ran out of the house.

***

For a month, Y/n stays with John and his kids; but as much as she loves her nieces and nephews, she refuses to stay there another night.

Lizzie Stark, who’s been helping her brother with the kids, tells her to go back home, to work it out with Arthur.

“And Tommy?” The fourteen year old asks the older woman.

Lizzie smirks. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Y/n smiles at that. She hopes her brother doesn’t wait too long to give Lizzie the ring he’s been hiding.

Knowing exactly where her brother will be, Y/n heads to the Garrison. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the locked door.

“We’re closed.” Is the muffled response from the barmaid.

“It’s Y/n Shelby.” She knows that’s all she has to say for the doors to open. Grace has been kind to her since she’s started working at the pub, and Y/n appreciates that, but she doesn’t trust the barmaid. She’s not sure why, but she has a hard time believing this Irish woman just decided to move to Birmingham without a real reason.

When the door opens, she smiles politely at Grace before squeezing past her. She heads straight to the back room, knowing her eldest brother will be attempting to balance the books.

She comes to halt mere centimeters from the entrance, her heart racing. What if he really is on Tommy’s side? What if he thinks she really did deserve to be slapped? What if she’s completely lost the only person to ever love her for her?

“Gracie, is that you? You ready to help me with these numbers yet?”

Y/n laughs quietly through the breath she was holding. Who is she kidding? Arthur is one of the kindest, loving people she knows. How could he hate her… right?

“It’s me, Arthur.” She barely gets that short sentence out above a whisper.

“Y/n?”

She steps fully into the room, her arms behind her back. “Hi.”

Arthur just stares at his baby sister, the anger, the pain of not seeing her for days, and the guilt… the guilt that has literally eaten him alive, rises to the surface. His loyalty to his brother clouded his love for his sister and he will hate himself for the rest of his life.

Being a Shelby makes it hard for them to express their emotions through words. No matter the emotion, the words usually fail to spit out, but actions, they’ve never been a problem for a Shelby.

So instead of saying the words, “I’m sorry” Arthur jumps to his feet and pulls the young girl into his arms, holding as tight as he can.

And since Y/n is not only a Shelby but also able to read her brother like a book, Y/n returns the hug and her anger disappears.

“You’re coming back home, ain’t ya?”

Y/n smiles, glad she was right. “My bag is already back in my room.”

Arthur squeezes her one more time, dropping a wet kiss on top of her head before releasing her. “Good.”

Y/n goes to ask him about how he’s been but a familiar voice stops her.

“Arthur, Tommy told me to get you. Family meeting in ten.” Finn turns to his sister, hope in his eyes. “Are you back?”

Y/n had kept in touch with Finn, having him fill her in on everything that was happening while she was gone. Finn didn’t know much, but she was able to fill in the gaps on most of what he told her.

“Yes, I’m back.”

Finn smiles. “Good. Arthur’s been too emotional and Tommy’s about to shoot him if he hears him complain one more time about you not being at the family meetings.”

Y/n laughs at Finn’s blunt statement; laughing harder when Arthur spouts profanities as he takes off after the youngest Shelby. She follows the duo, figuring it’s time for her to show her faceto the rest of the family.

Her smile stays in place as they make their way to Watery Lane, listening to her brother banter back and forth about what to tell and what to keep to yourself. So far, Finn’s winning the argument.

She can feel her smile start to get smaller the closer they get to her old home; and the smile completely disappears when Arthur opens the door for her. She comes to a halt at the threshold of the betting shop, her eyes immediately on the Peaky Blinders leader.

She’s thankful he hasn’t noticed her yet, but that little comfort quickly disappears when her aunt tells him to shut up as she makes her way to her niece.

Y/n easily accepts the hug from her aunt, the woman who practically raised her, but winces when she gets a clip to her ear.

“A month is too damn long, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Polly releases her; a small smile appears when her aunt gently caresses her cheek.

Knowing she needs to face the elephant in the room, or more commonly known as Thomas Shelby, Y/n peels her eyes off her aunt and stares straight into her brother’s eyes, hoping he can’t see the fear in them.

Compared to the other family members, Tommy is a mute when it comes to emotions. The only time words and emotions are mixed together is when he’s angry. He doesn’t say “I love you”, “I need you”, or anything that is remotely tied to emotions.

That said, the man is a master at showing his emotions through actions. One look can tell you so much about the gang leader. You just have to know how to read them; and Y/n is a master at this skill. She’s almost as good as their aunt.

So when she sees the barely noticeable nod of approval, and watches as Tommy pulls out a chair; she knows she has been welcomed back by their fearless leader.

And after she sits, he gently kisses her cheek, the same cheek he hurt a month ago, and she knows he’s asking for forgiveness.

She grasps his hand before he can pull away, giving it one good squeeze, so he knows he’s been forgiven.

They will never have a relationship like her and Arthur, or like him and Ada; but they can coexist together in their family; and that’s enough for them both.

Peaky Blinders: @psychkunox @theshelbyclan @lilymurphy03 @findinghisredrighthand

Forevers: @desiredposion @theseakrakence @simonsbluee

412 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

OMFGGGGGGG IT CAME IT FINALLY CAME! when I tell you I have found that old hag creepy from the start I mean it! And sweet Adam has my heart the little shitbag that he is ♡ I love the way you write it NEVER gets old saying that! Once again a masterpiece that I cannot wait to see pt2 of!

Beware Your Elders | Part 1

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader

Genre: drama, angst, hurt/comfort, romance

Warnings: head injury, held hostage, murder

Word Count: 6154

Summary: When Adam gets assigned to patrol for the day, he is reunited with an academy classmate and friend. Based on Season 1 Episode 8 - “Different Mistakes”

A/N: I have been working on this for a long time, so long I fear I may never finish it if I don't post a 'part 1'. Huge thanks to @elius-learns-to-write for being so patient and helpful by reading this multiple times.

You approach Trudy Platt’s desk with a pep in your step, you felt like you were hitting your stride lately and being at the 21st was a good fit for you.

“Good morning, Sarge.” You offer to the desk sergeant, watching her remain engrossed in what was no doubt a mountain of paperwork that seldom grew any smaller.

Eventually, she pulls her eyes away and looks up, “Mornin’, Y/L/N. What’s got you all chipper today?” She eyes you curiously, but still with a slight smile on her face.

You play up your mood, “Oh nothing, just happy to be here, Sarge, under your tutelage.”

Even though you were hamming it up, the sentiment was indeed true. Trudy Platt was one of the most revered and respected of her generation, and you could understand why. It’s why the 21st was such a coveted placement.

She shakes her head, giving you a dubious look as she checks her list of squad cars available.

On the cusp of making a decision, Trudy spots Alvin Olinsky coming through the door with one Adam Ruzek. She leaves you waiting patiently in exchange for calling the older Detective over.

You give Olinsky a polite and distracted smile, watching briefly as Ruzek heads towards the gated stairs that lead to Intelligence’s bullpen, silently watching someone you used to be so connected with pass through like a stranger.

It irked you that he hadn’t gotten back to the messages you’d sent him since he got picked from the academy to join Intelligence; it felt like a small ‘fuck you’ from Adam - for him to just forget his classmates, to forget you.

You two had been inseparable; forging a true understanding and appreciation of how the other worked. Sometimes it felt like you were soulmates. Whether it was platonic or romantic, you’d never had the chance to figure that part out.

You sigh, glancing at Trudy’s desk to find she’s still talking to Olinsky. The conversation isn’t exactly scintillating, something about non-suit reports, so you take a glance around at the hubbub of the precinct for a distraction from your irritation.

People are coming and going every second, keeping the district ticking over and running as smoothly as Chicago would ever allow.

Passing by are Burgess and Atwater, whom you wave goodbye to as they head out for their day on patrol, they had become good friends and you really liked having them around.

As you’re about to turn your attention back to the desk, you hear the familiar voice of Adam once again. He had apparently stopped to talk to some of your fellow patrolmen, also classmates from the academy.

You watched the three men converse, the patrolmen were fascinated with Adam’s sunglasses and he appeared to be enjoying the awe his very presence seemed to inspire.

You roll your eyes, glancing at Platt and Olinsky, realising that their conversation had come to an end. Now, they were looking at you curiously. Before you can question their staring you see Olinsky divert his attention to Adam and the patrolmen, just as you had.

Tuning into the conversation not even a few metres away, Adam’s words are just about audible as he talks to the guys in uniform, “Yeah I don’t know how it is for the patrolmen here. I mean, I skipped that part.”

Olinsky looks on, his expression changing to one of a disappointed parent, and you find yourself smothering a smirk. Clearly, the senior officer wasn’t too impressed with Adam’s lack of modesty.

You gawk in amazement as Adam continues, glancing at Platt who waves you off so as to let her keep eavesdropping too.

“Yeah, put in your time boys. That’s my advice. Then maybe you too can join us upstairs, right?”

Before you know it Olinksy is on the move towards Adam and you’re giddy at the prospect of Ruzek possibly getting chewed out by his superior.

You can’t hear what Olinksy says next but suddenly the patrolmen are saying their goodbyes and Adam is being ushered in your direction, towards the sergeant’s desk.

Finally, Adam spots you and immediately avoids eye contact, having the good grace to look sheepish as he does everything he can not to acknowledge you standing there.

You internally scoff, cowardice wasn’t a good look on him and you were ready to tell him as such.

You don’t let it sour your mood too much, watching in sheer anticipation as Olinsky has a wry smile on his face, “Say, Sergeant Platt. Ruzek here needs to better appreciate the, uh, the journey, that he, uh, got to bypass.”

You wanted to cackle like a maniac, seeing how Adam looks at Platt in shock, watching your sergeant’s face turn gleeful as she responds, “Oh I’ve been waiting for this day.”

–

From there Ruzek is ushered upstairs to put on some uniform, and you decide to use that moment to try and get your keys. You were ready to get your day started, and you didn’t want to be saddled with babysitting Adam on patrol.

Yet, you fear it’s already too late when you notice your keys still haven’t materialised. Trudy was clearly slow-rolling you, waiting for something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what or who that was.

The look Platt gives you makes you groan, yet you’re unable to protest too much as the sergeant preemptively holds up a shushing finger.

“Don’t. Ruzek needs a partner and you’re free, and one of my best. So don’t make me change my opinion of you, alright?” Her eyebrows go up in a pointed expression, daring you to protest further. You sigh in defeat, watching Platt nod and smile satisfied with your acceptance.

You weren’t one to want to disappoint Sergeant Platt, and it didn’t really feel like you had much choice. Besides, you did know Adam and you knew he was good police, you would just have to put aside your misgivings about his attitude for the day.

You're standing waiting for your 'partner' when you hear the gate open again, turning to see Adam in his patrol blues.

It’s a weird sight given he never got to have this moment when you did, and your whole body fizzles with goosebumps when he catches your gaze again.

“Ruzek.” You greet him, nodding with a smile, emotions imperceptible in your eyes.

“Y/L/N.” Adam smiles, somewhat cautiously, “Good to see you.” He offers.

“And you.” You manage to squeeze the pleasantry out, your swelling wave of feelings not yet washing you out to sea, but close to it.

Your new partner gives Sergeant Platt a small salute, “Catch you later, Sarge. Do you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m all good, unless you see Portillo’s on your travels! Now go ahead, you kids have a good time serving the community.!” She says with a smug smile, all too happy to watch Adam get a taste of patrol life.

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” He answers facetiously, slinging his arm around your shoulder. With that, Trudy shoos you off, and you turn towards the door as you almost immediately start extricating yourself from Adam, walking ahead of him to the parking lot.

He takes a deep breath, knowing he had a lot of explaining to do. So he braces himself for impact, hot on your trail to the car.

You slot yourself into the driver’s side of the patrol car, turning on the radio immediately to check in with dispatch and update your status.

Adam climbs into the passenger side and shuts the door behind him. He desperately wants to be excited about patrol and ask you how it’s going, but there was a walk of fire that stood in his way.

He clears his throat, ready to make a speech, "Y/N, I'm-" But the very notion of him explaining his actions somehow sets you off, you'd been waiting for this moment.

"Sorry? Is that what you were going to say, Adam? Sorry that you left without a word, sorry that you blanked me when I asked if you were okay and if you needed anything? Sorry that you said nothing when I congratulated you and asked if you wanted to celebrate. Is that what you're sorry about?"

You swallow, realising that your outburst was out there now, permeating the air as your heart thundered in your chest. You didn’t realise just how upset it had made you until you were ranting in Adam’s face.

He doesn't flinch, accepting your hurt with a guilty expression.

“Yes, exactly that. I totally ghosted you, and that wasn’t fair or right… There is no good excuse or explanation, other than I got caught up in the excitement of it all, not stopping to think about the people…the person I’d left behind. And I’m sorry that you’re stuck on patrol with me today, I know it’s probably the last thing you want.”

You sigh. Actually, being on patrol with Adam was all you’d thought about at the academy, it was something that you’d ached for when you were finally given your placement but without your right-hand man to accompany you.

Not all the wrongs had been righted, but just knowing Adam felt remorse, knowing that he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind about you… you could feel the storm clouds getting lighter.

“It’s fine… You’ve got some learning to do, and lord knows you need all the help you can get, Mr Intelligence. Being stuck with you is not the worst punishment ever, so long as you’re not expecting me to fawn over those sunglasses and the fact that you work with Voight’s team.” Your mouth upturns into a smug smile as Adam goes quiet, sitting obediently as you pull out of the lot and begin your patrol route.

Adam is sincere the next time he speaks, nodding in agreement with your words. “I definitely could learn from you, Y/N, and I wouldn’t expect you to feed any kind of ego, that’s not your style.”

Your smirk, glancing at your partner, “Definitely not my style.”

There’s another pause between you, and you sigh. You didn’t have it in your heart to maintain that venom. You knew Adam wasn’t inherently selfish or careless, you and he were both young and starting out, so it was partially understandable that he’d gotten caught up in the excitement of everything. “It’s good to be riding with you, Ruze. Let’s just make the most of it, alright? I can chew you out some more and patrol at the same time.”

“Yes ma’am, that sounds like a fair compromise.” Adam smiles genuinely, and your small smile is just as genuine in return. He holds out a fist for you to bump with yours, and you roll your eyes with a shake of your head. It was unreal how easily he could melt you down from being in an icy mood.

You bump your fist with his.

A large portion of your morning is uneventful, between some petty theft incidents and helping CFD on some of their scenes, you and Adam decide to call it time for lunch. It certainly wasn’t the most action you’d seen on patrol, and it definitely wasn’t shaping up to be Adam’s biggest day on the job. You’d even taken to responding to several cases of helping the elderly with their shopping, much to their gratitude.

Adam shrugs off his jacket and tosses it into the back of the patrol car, “Man, it’s October in Chicago, why the hell is it still so warm.”

“The earth is not our biggest fan right now, Ruze.” You huff as the sun beat through the windshield, agreeing with the fact that even the slightest motion in your jacket caused you to overheat at the moment. You decide to join Adam and take off your windbreaker, launching it into the back as you settle into your seat.

Both of you sit in comfortable silence as you listen to the radio chatter coming in, tucking into the grilled sandwiches and shared fries you’d got from the Deli down the street, sipping happily at some iced tea. This felt like old times to you, and it settled the disquiet in your stomach from this morning’s confrontation.

You hoped that you and Adam could actually rekindle the connection you’d forged, that he wouldn’t forget you a second time.

The last bite of your sandwich is taken when the radio crackles to life once more,

“Units on the citywide, reports of a 10-67 and 10-68 at 1655 West Cortez, nearby units please respond.”

You instantly put your wrappers in the door compartment, Adam picking up the radio as you pull the squad car out of the parking spot. “Dispatch, 2113 put us as responding to that call on West Cortez”.

The dispatcher responds once again as you hit your sirens, heading to your new location, “Copy 2113, holding you down as responding.”

Adam adjusts his position in the seat, more upright and ready to prepare himself for whatever you come upon at the scene.

10-67 Person calling for help.

10-68 Call for police made via telephone.

As you pull up to the row of houses on West Cortez, you take note of the uniform build, each house virtually identical to the next, save for some outside embellishments from the residents. The house next to the responding address is for sale.

You pick up your radio as you step out of the patrol car, Adam doing the same as he looks around for any immediate signs of distress.

“2113 to dispatch, we’re a 10-97, please standby.”

“Copy 2113, standing by.”

10-97 Arrived at the scene.

As you approach the front door of 1655 West Cortez to knock and announce your office, one of the construction workers from across the street approaches.

“You here about the screaming, officers?” The older man asks.

“Screaming?” Adam asks, and the man nods.

“Richard Barnes, I’m the foreman on this job." He gestures his thumb behind him to the bustle of men working along scaffolding.

You nod for him to continue.

"I heard it a few nights ago, as I was locking up, it sounded like a big fight at 1655. I headed over there since the old gal that lives there made me and the guys coffee a few times. Sylvia is her name. She answered the door and said it was her and her granddaughter just having a little misunderstanding, I’ve seen the granddaughter a handful of times too - seemed nice enough though. Sylvia apologised for the disturbance and that was that. I didn’t have any other way to prove something was wrong, so I left her to it, teenagers can get stressed out, right? Didn’t seem too weird. Everything seemed alright beyond the arguing. This morning I could hear Sylvia yelling again, only her voice though, and now nobody is answering the door. That’s why I called it in for you guys to take a look.”

“You sure the granddaughter hasn’t left at all?” Adam queries,

“No, sir, I don’t think she has. I have security cameras for the site and equipment, she hasn’t shown up at all the last few footage cycles.”

That revelation makes you wonder. You nod at Barnes, “Thank you for calling us, you did the right thing, we’ll take a look.”

He waves your thanks away, “Of course, holler if you need anything else.”

“We will, thanks again. We might ask you to make another statement once we’re done here, alright?” Adam checks and Richard nods, “Not a problem, officers. We’re gonna be going to lunch soon, but we’ll be back this afternoon, maybe an hour or so.” He gives a small smile goodbye, heading back towards the work site and his crew.

You turn back to the property and to Adam, “Okay, let’s find out what’s up with grandma and granddaughter.”

Adam nods, picking up his radio, “2113 to dispatch, we’ve just had a 10-62A, we’re going to do a knock and talk.”

“Copy 2113, standing by.”

10-62A Take a report from a citizen.

You knock heavily on the pristine white door, glancing around the mostly empty street for signs of anybody who could give extra information. Adam takes a step back to look up at the large windows on the 1st and 2nd floors.

Nothing happens, you both wait. Moving to knock again, your voice loud and clear, “Chicago PD, anybody home? Sylvia?”

In the background, you hear the low chatter of Richard’s workmen and their various trucks starting up as they move off the site to head to lunch.

You look at Adam and he gives a knowing nod back. Calls like this could be nothing, but they also could be something, and it was always better to make sure it wasn’t the latter.

Adam knocks this time, not much louder than you had but you knew he liked to feel like he’d had a go too. With a sigh, Adam’s on the cusp of hammering on the door when you catch a faint shadow of movement on the first floor, the definition of a ‘curtain twitch’.

“Ruze, movement on the first floor.” You announce, keeping your eyes fixed on the window as Adam does try the door a third time. “CHICAGO PD, this is Officer Ruzek and Officer Y/L/N, we would just like a word.”

There’s a lingering moment, then the sound of locks and chains being undone, the door opening a crack to reveal an older woman.

“Can I help you?” The woman’s hair is greying, she is round in the face, a slight blush to her cheeks, shuffling from foot to foot in navy slippers.

“Ma’am we’re with the police department, we’ve had a report of distress being heard at this address. Is your name Sylvia?” Adam asks politely, offering a friendly smile.

If the woman doesn’t like his question she doesn’t show it, offering a small smile back. “Yes, I’m Sylvia Lupp. This is my home, and I told that nice man across the street that there was nothing to worry about, I do hope we haven’t wasted too much of your time.”

Most people would offer a more detailed explanation and some kind of reassurance, but the woman is quick to try and shut the door again, only stopped by Adam’s quick palm at the centre of the door.

The gesture is assertive but not aggressive, just enough to give Adam some extra talking time. You see the woman’s face sour for just a moment before putting back up the kindly expression.

In the motion of the door trying to shut, it had created a draft of air that carried a smell with it. It smelt simultaneously like bleach and off-meat, with a slight odour of faeces. You share a look with your partner, you already knew this wasn’t a call you’d be putting down as “nothing”. So you step forward too, letting her know that you and Adam wouldn’t be dismissed that easily.

“Uh, ma’am, please, it would really ease our minds if we could just check the house out, make sure everything’s as it should be and that both of you are okay. If it’s just a normal family dispute, then we’ll be on our way. Do you mind if we come in?”

At worst this was about to be a crime scene, at best it was going to be a severe case of hoarding and neglect of the property, you steeled your stomach for both. You rest a quick hand on Adam’s shoulder, silently conveying you had his back as the woman reluctantly stepped aside to let you in.

You start looking around at the peeling wallpaper and the damp spots on the walls and ceilings. The smell was much stronger even a metre into the house. You swallow hard, trying to not breathe in too much.

“I have been working on the house, we’ve had some…sanitary issues lately as I’m sure you can see. I don’t move as fast as I used to, but I am working on it. My granddaughter isn’t fond of contributing to the home, that was the reason for our argument.” She didn’t seem nervous, but she did seem like a car salesman trying to convince you of her pitch.

You let Adam take the lead, watching as he followed her into the first room on the ground floor. You used the time to radio dispatch as quickly and as quietly as you could manage.

“2213 to dispatch, we have entered the premises 1655 West Cortez, speaking with Sylvia Lupp. We are now investigating a 10-29h. Be on standby for a Code 8. There is concern for a 10-54 or 10-91D. Might have cause for CFD assistance.”

10-29h Caution - severe hazard potential.

Code 8 Request cover/backup.

10-54 Possible dead body

10-91D Animal, dead

A voice crackles through, “Copy, 2213, on standby for your Code 8, 10-54 and 10-91D. CFD are aware of the call.” You spot Adam and Sylvia coming out of the room again, Adam’s face tells you everything. Sylvia looks from you to the radio in your hand, turning on her heels as she beckons Adam to keep following, you make sure to stay in tow.

You were starting to worry about what you’d find beyond the stacks of yellowed and moulding newspapers, uneven piles of miscellaneous goods, the strewn cans of food, and the almost constant thrum of flies buzzing.

Eventually, you decide to broach the topic, “Sylvia, we’re not here to judge, but we are worried about your safety on the property right now, and your granddaughter’s safety.”

Her head snaps to you, looking affronted, “The house needs some love, that’s all. I wouldn’t pry into how you keep your home, officer.” Adam gives you a terse look, subtly shaking his head, encouraging Sylvia to continue the tour.

You hold your hands up by way of apology, deciding you’d try again once you’d seen more of the house. This would already constitute a hazardous environment by the city’s standards, you wouldn’t be surprised to find complaints from neighbours if you checked the city’s sanitation records.

By the time you make it to the kitchen, you can’t understand how you’ve managed to not lose your lunch all over the floor, the smell had only gotten stronger and one scent, in particular, had you covered in goosebumps.

The smell of death.

Sylvia stops at a door, unlocking it with a gold key she produces from the pocket of her cardigan. The door in front of you is older than the others, wooden and pale from losing its paint finish, scuffs and scratches litter the wood. She gestures to the rickety stairs dimly lit by an overhead orange glow of a lamp on its last legs. “My Luzie lives down here in the basement, spoilt girl gets her own space. She’s not home right now, out at college.”

For the umpteenth time today, you find yourself sharing a sceptical look with Adam, close to suggesting you both turn back and regroup outside.

It played on your mind that Sylvia’s granddaughter, according to Richard from across the street, should absolutely be in the home.

The older woman looked as if she was about to close the door again, but once again Adam stops the motion.

“Ma’am, we really need to inspect the entire property, if you don’t mind.”

Sylvia’s nostrils flare in what you sense is anger and frustration, but she steps aside and gestures dismissively downwards.

You let Adam go downstairs with Sylvia, keeping an eye on her from the top of the stairs, making sure you still had a view down the hall to the front door, just in case anything else or anyone else were to appear.

Then, there’s a crash and several loud thuds.

“Oh, officer, quick! He’s fallen!” Sylvia cries out, sounding frail for the first time since you met her.

Your feet carry you as fast they can down the rickety steps, coming upon the scene of Sylvia crouched over a motionless Adam. You fall to your knees on the cold concrete floor, assessing Adam quickly and methodically.

Adam was out cold but breathing. You take off your CPD gaiter to press to the wound on the side of his head, eliciting a soft groan from him.

“It’s alright, Ruze. I got you, we’ll get an ambo here.” You reassure, only receiving another moan in response. Picking up your radio, “Dispatch, 2213 in need of backup and an ambo to our last location, an officer is injured. A head wound.”

You wait, static is the only answer to your request. So you repeat it again, and again. Your stomach begins to sink with each passing moment. The basement was stopping you from calling for help, and you were stuck down there with someone you didn’t trust.

“What happened?” You ask Sylvia, noting that though she had her hand over her mouth in ‘shock’, her actual face showed no expression at all.

“I-...he just fell, I don’t know, he hit his head on the unit there.” She points to a scuffed, faded, display unit full of old china. However, as you look at the unit you can’t see any blood or any signs that it had been disturbed by the weight of Adam hitting it.

What you do notice is a golden bronze eagle statue laying a few feet across the basement floor from Adam. It was darker in spots, darker as though it had blood on it.

You couldn’t prove anything without taking a closer look, but you also couldn’t afford to let Sylvia know that you were beyond suspicious. You quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your partner once more, his eyes had half opened now.

“Hey, buddy.” You murmur, giving his arm a squeeze. “I need you to keep pressure on that wound for a sec, alright?” You ask, waiting for his confirmation of understanding.

“M’kay… Y/N, she-” He grumbles, you fix him with a look so as to stop him from talking, you figured he was about try and warn you about Sylvia, but you were already there. Instead, your partner returns to lifting a shaking hand to press to his own head with a small hiss. “Good, real good, Ruze. Just gimme a minute, I’ll be right back.”

There were too many variables. You had to make a decision. That decision was to detain Sylvia so you could leave the basement and radio for help.

You push up to full height, “Sylvia, I’m going to need you to stand-” As you turn to face Sylvia you’re cut off by the sound you knew all too well, the cocking of a gun. A gun that was now pointed at you.

Fuck, Y/L/N, you didn’t check for Adam’s weapon.

You stare at Sylvia, all your suspicions were now a reality and you were mad at yourself for not being harder on her, her age had well and truly stalled what would have been immediate caution and apprehension if it had been someone younger.

Your jaw clenches, shifting ever so slightly to stand directly in front of Adam, shielding his prone form on the floor. “Sylvia, I think you and I both know that pointing that gun at me is a big mistake. My partner is injured, and this house is now in our system and flagged, anything you try to do will only make things worse.”

Sylvia waves the gun gesturing downward, “I think you’ll do as you’re told, I’m sure you can guess by now what happens to people in my home who don’t obey the rules and give this house the love it needs. Sit down, officer, by your partner. There’s a good girl.”

You grit your teeth together, deciding you couldn’t risk trying to draw your weapon and giving Sylvia a motive to shoot. So you slowly sit on the cold floor of the basement, glaring as the old woman pushes forward, the gun never leaving the target of your head or your partner’s. Almost instantaneously the concrete makes your muscles tense and shiver, and you hear Adam’s chattering breaths on the ground beside you.

Satisfied you weren’t going to do anything, Sylvia bends awkwardly with her hip to pull your weapon out of its holster. You consider taking your chance to tackle her to the floor. You easily had muscle and speed on her, yet your surroundings did not give you ample opportunity to move or get help if something were to go wrong. You weren’t a fan of the decision, but you couldn’t risk Adam’s life like that.

You choose to instead trust that dispatch would try to check in, then they would contact Platt who would ultimately be pissed you hadn’t returned one of her patrol cars on time and come hunt you down. That, or somebody from Intelligence would notice Adam’s prolonged absence and come looking for him.

For the moment you’re resigned to watching Sylvia totter back up the creaking stairs with both weapons and the key to the door at the top.

Unsurprisingly you hear the door slam, and the clicking of a lock and bolt follow.

The first thing you do once you’re sure Sylvia isn’t coming back down those stairs is turn to Adam who offers you a sheepish smile, still pressing the gaiter firmly to his wound.

You sigh, checking him over as he chuckles with a pained wince, you couldn’t believe how calm he was - maybe he had several brain cells knocked loose.“Seriously, I’ve got us trapped down here and you’re giving me those doe eyes?”

Adams frowns, “Last I checked it was that old gal that got us locked in here. She saw me bending down for this…” Adam fishes in his trousers pocket, producing a gold chain with a pendant attached. “That’s how she got the drop on me.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation, the pendant was marked with an engraved “L”, it seemed a given that the L would stand for “Luzie”, Sylvia’s granddaughter.

You’re about to open your mouth again, but Adam knows what you’re about to ask, “I guess in the excitement of holding officers at gunpoint she forgot why she knocked my peanut loose in the first place.”

Frustration leaves you, kicking the dirt beneath your feet, “I should have been less patient with her, I should have knocked her on her ass. I shouldn’t have let you go down here alone with her.”

Adam scoots closer to you as best he can without letting go of his head, you reach out a hand to steady him, helping him lean against the wall. “Listen to me, you stayed up there where you should have to make sure nobody was coming in or out without our notice, you didn’t hand her that eagle, and you couldn’t have known she’d be so brazen… She already had me before you were even down the stairs, Y/N, so I don’t wanna hear anymore about it being your fault. Alright?”

There’s a pause as the realisation sinks in for Adam, feeling sorry for himself for getting caught off-guard, watching with some amusement as he groans again, “Man, she really got me good.”

You squeeze your arm around him gently, “I think she would have found a way no matter what, Ruze, don’t take it to heart, alright? How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got whacked in the head.” Adam retorts, meeting your unimpressed face he relents with an apologetic look, he knew you were worried for him.

“Sorry, it smarts but nothin’ I can’t handle.” The warmth of Adam’s hand on your arm makes your stomach flip, his reassuring hold burns through your shirt sleeve before he lets go again.

You try not to draw attention to your surprise at the contact, pushing yourself up to stand. “Well, for as long as you’re able to make your smart comments, I’m gonna see if there’s a way to get our radios to reach out of this godforsaken basement, or a way for me to go and get us help. Stay put.”

Adam wants to laugh at your lack of a request but rather an order, except laughing would hurt his brain, so he settles for a wry smile. “Yes, officer.” He quips, tickled by the roll of your eyes as you turn to start checking the walls of the basement for a window or alternate access point.

Adam’s starting to really feel the chill of the basement as he watches you move boxes and old bits of furniture away from the walls, he studies you with a pained expression, wishing he would stop feeling so dizzy so he could get up and help too.

“You okay over there?” Adam asks, trying to shimmy on his ass to not let his back and shoulders go to sleep, his butt already well past numb from the cold of the concrete.

You sigh, trying to not be annoyed by his concern, it was sweet and you know it was hard for him to keep still, “For the 4th time, I am absolutely fine, Ruze.”

He sighs, “Right.” Simmering in his own soup of thoughts until he feels compelled to open his mouth some more, “Y/N, I’m really sorry for everything, you know that right? I got so caught up with Intelligence, then I felt like I’d abandoned you, I didn’t know what to do with that, more time passed, and it just became this whole awkward thing.”

You stop your rummaging and periodical checking of your radio, something you were also surprised that Sylvia had forgotten to take - then again, people didn’t always consider everything when they were acting in a moment of rash behaviour.

With hands on your hips, you face your partner with an incredulous expression, “Adam, I have been trying to talk to you about this for weeks, and being trapped in a basement is the time you choose to circle back to it?”

Adam shrugs, “No time like the present, figured before we freeze or starve to death, I’d let you know that I know I’ve been a jerk.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, searching for the calm to not whack Adam yourself. “Please, pretty please can you just save for this for when we’re out? We’re not going to starve or freeze down here… God, even when you’re hurt you still find a way to be a little shit.”

Adam does smile now, gesturing nonchalantly with his free hand, “It’s why you love me, Y/N. Let’s not pretend it doesn’t charm you.”

You sigh, “Oh yeah, I love you because it’s really fun when you make things more difficult.”

Adam snorts, ignoring the stab of pain in his skull, “Ah, so you do love me then, didn’t deny that bit.”

The statement goes without an answer in return, falling back into ‘comfortable’ silence as you resume your hopeful task of finding something that will get you and Adam out of this. Finally settling at a tall storage unit, one that was somehow producing a particularly cold draught from behind it.

You brush your fingers behind the heavy mahogany, feeling the cold bite at your fingertips your heart picks up the pace. It certainly felt like something was concealed by the display unit, an open space to be precise.

“Adam, I think there’s something behind here.” You say it almost to yourself, afraid to declare it to the room should it lead nowhere.

“You need me to…?” Adam gestures in your direction, already trying to get to his feet with a slight grunt of surprise at just how unsteady he was.

“Will you please sit back down before you fall?” You chastise, taking quick strides to slip your arms around Adam and put him back on the ground.

“I know you want to help, but the best thing you can do is stay here and let me just worry about one thing at a time, alright?” Your voice loses its irritation, face softening as you can see the frustration on Adam’s face. Granted your irritation was because you were worried about him but you didn’t need to give him the attitude.

Your partner lets out a slight huff, “Okay, Y/N, yeah, I can do that. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, man. I know it’s not a great situation, I’d be pissed off too.”

Adam hums in acknowledgement, letting you wander back toward the display unit. It takes you a second to get your stance right, putting your weight into the side of the heavy wood as you push. Your boots crunch bits of concrete and gravel underfoot as you force the unit to one side with a noise of upheaval, revealing a blue door, metallic and rusting - the stench of death was stronger now.

End of Part 1 of /?

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch

#one chicago #adam ruzek x reader #chicago pd #beware your elders #chicago pd x reader #one chicago x reader

89 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

Figures

Fandom: Chicago Med

Characters: Halstead!Sister, Jay Halstead, Will Halstead

Genre: hurt/comfort, illness, fluff

Warnings: seizures, hospitals, injections

Word Count: 1897

Summary: The reader has a rough day of seizures, they are reluctant to go to Med until they have no choice. - but things are always easier with two big brothers by your side.

Requested By chrisevansdaughter: [...] could it be possible for you to do a halstead! Sibling reader where she has seizures, because of previous problems with low blood sugar and she had one whilst they are at home after not feeling the best, but she has to take a trip to lex because they don’t let up but she hates the hospital so it’s just fluff and comfort from a personal experience.

A/N: Thank you so much to @elius-learns-to-write for convincing me this wasn't total garbage. Sorry, it's shorter than usual, I am having a confidence crisis, but I'm working on it! I hope my research on this subject made this more readable.

The first thing that registers is the sharp throb of a headache that radiates throughout your forehead, intense biting stabs that make you wince even in the haze of your semi-consciousness.

The second thing you notice is the heaviness in your limbs, your eyes feel sensitive to the light and your absolute reluctance to move is the giveaway that you hadn’t fallen asleep on the couch in a natural or peaceful way.

Soon the memory of your intense nausea and shaking came back to you. There are vague memories of you trying to make it to the couch but not quite managing it - slumping into the arms of your brother, Jay, who luckily happened to be heading to the kitchen.

Your blood sugar must have been in the tank, causing you to pass out. You started seizing soon after, leaving Jay to holler out to Will who was in his bedroom to bring the emergency kit that he kept for when you stayed over.

The third thing that comes to you is that the ‘pillow’ beneath your head was not a pillow at all, but rather the muscular cushion of someone’s leg.

There's a hushed murmur of conversation that you can't quite concentrate on when a clearer voice reaches you, “Come back to us, kiddo, open those eyes.”

A gentle hand cards through your hair, brushing stray strands away from the clamminess on your forehead - it sparks a flurry of warm memories of being cared for, of being protected, from childhood right to the very present.

The owner of the voice was simultaneously irritating for asking that you wake up, but also soothing upon registering it to be the voice of your brother Will.

“Mngh, no. Hurts.” You mumble, turning yourself to face the back of the sofa, trying to somehow make Will’s leg comfier to rest your head on.

Your brother chuckles, squeezing your shoulder, “I know, I know it does, but I need to make sure the glucagon is doing its job.” Ah, yes, the magic of glucagon, the thing in charge of keeping your blood sugar in check, especially after a seizure.

“You finished napping yet?” Another voice comes from the direction of the kitchen, and you huff, playfully punching Will in the knee.

Will sulks as he pays for Jay’s teasing remark, “Hey! What was that for? I’m not the one accusing you of napping.”

You groan as you try and sit up, squeezing your eyes shut as the headache zings behind your eyes. “Mh, you’re closer, otherwise he’d get it.”

“He deserves it more anyway, he’s the one that stabbed you.” The voice is closer to you, on the couch, by your other side. Jay makes yet another joke as he tries to keep the mood light, wrapping an arm around you to steady you in your newly upright position.

“How are we doing, sweetheart?” He asks softly, being more sincere now that he was taking a look at you. You were groggy and in discomfort - seizures often took it out of you.

“Peachy.” You grunt, opening a weary eye to see Jay offering you a sandwich and a bottle of water. Something with carbs was always advised after a seizure, and Jay was usually the one to take care of that department, he always made the best sandwiches. ‘Thanks, Jay.” You murmur, sitting still as you slowly snack on your recovery food taking sips in between.

Jay's warm palm moving in small circles on your back is a safety blanket for you, feeling the tension between your shoulders and at the base of your neck begin to melt away.

You answer Will’s questions as you let him take the new readings with a finger-prick test, the method he swore by due to the delay in a glucose monitor reading.

Jay had taken that time to focus on looking out the window, moving his view away from the needle.

Will does what he needs to do with the lancet, pricking you for a sample of blood.

Like a well-practised dance, Will takes the test strip with your blood and inserts it into the meter, waiting for it to provide a reading, whilst you hold a small piece of gauze to the prick on your finger.

Will sighs, humming in concern.

“These levels aren’t what I’d like, Y/N, if it gets worse or you start to feel like you’re gonna seize again, we’re going to Med.”

Jay turns back to you at those words, a grimace on his face, knowing that your reaction to Will’s decision would be emphatically in opposition.

“Will, seriously? No way, I hate that place, I’ll be fine!” You try and stand up to prove your point, only to feel the world swim and your legs fail to cooperate.

“Woah, hey.” Jay is quick off the mark, hooking his arm around you to bring you back down to the couch.

You glance at Will who’s got his hands out to steady you too, you involuntarily scowl at his “Told you so.” expression.

“A little backup would be nice.” Will addresses Jay, scratching at his head as he wonders whether he should just take you to Med now, not missing the way you try to act like you’re not moments away from passing out again.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the doctor and the bad cop in this situation, I get to be the good cop when it comes to medical emergencies.” Jay seems rather smug and it makes you laugh half-heartedly despite your exhaustion and shakiness, both you and he shared a deep disdain for Will’s place of work.

You’re trying to get up again, not really sure where you want to go or what you want to do. A fog of confusion shimmers in your mind, and before you know it Will is grasping your shoulders, looking at Jay.

“Lay her down on the floor.” Will commands, and Jay wastes not a second in obeying. He shifts to support your head and gently encourages you to lie down on the floor, giving you one of those stern yet loving looks as you try and resist. He’s watching worriedly as your eyes wander erratically, knowing you’re trying to fight what’s coming.

“It’s alright, Y/N, just-” Jay’s about to encourage you to let it happen, to let them take care of you when your whole body goes limp. Jay holds you steady, turning you on your side as you begin to convulse again.

Will moves back to his kit, preparing a secondary dose of glucagon, there’s little Jay can do but stop you from hurting yourself as you ride it out.

Your brothers share a look as Will injects you in your upper arm, there’s an unspoken agreement that there is no choice but to take you to Med now, they needed to get this under control in a secure environment with additional solutions available - even if that meant you’d be in a sour mood later, they would take it.

The second you consciously smell the air after waking up you let out a disgruntled groan, you knew exactly where you were - and it wasn’t Will's apartment anymore.

You were indeed at Chicago Med, and more specifically in the diabetic clinic on the third floor - a space you were unfortunately all too familiar with.

“Hey kiddo, you with us?” A gentle voice pulls you to open your eyes properly, scanning the room briefly your gaze settles on Jay sitting on the chair beside your bed, smiling at the sight of you finally awake.

He had his detective badge around his neck.

Observant as he was trained to be, he clocks the question on your lips, and speaks before you can ask, “Visting hours were over a few hours ago, so was shift change - so I may or may not have implied it was a police matter of importance that I was here with you.”

You laugh groggily, but then it falters into a frown, softly chastising your brother. “Jay, I shouldn’t get special treatment.”

Jay chuckles too, you were always conscious of not using his job nor Will’s to get any kind of tenuous form of preferential care. Your self-awareness was something he admired about you.

“I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart…” Jay pauses, scratching at the back of his head. “But uh, Will got called in downstairs, and I couldn’t sit at home alone knowing you were up here alone too… You worried me today, Y/N.” There’s a somberness in Jay’s eyes, he didn’t do well with not being able to have control over a situation, and not being able to help fully was one of his biggest struggles.

Your eyes soften, carefully reaching out a hand to hold Jay’s. “Big brother, I’m alright, they’re really great at what they do here, I’m sure they’re gonna figure out how to keep me on a safer track with all this. I’m feeling better, I promise.”

Jay shakes his head with a smile, despite your disdain for the hospital you had always done better than him. “When did you get so wise?” He teases, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’ve always been wise, thank you very much.” You snipe jokingly, taking mock offence to the idea that you hadn’t always been of sound logic and optimism.

“Yes you have, you definitely get that from me though, not this guy.” Will’s voice catches your attention, he was now in scrubs and had you giggling a little more as he poked fun at Jay.

Your other brother studies you with his medical eyes and then his worried sibling ones, approaching the free side of your bed. He smoothes out the flyaway hairs atop your head, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “How are we doing, kiddo?”

A yawn escapes you, still holding Jay’s hand as you shrug, reaching for Will’s hand too, “Much better. I’m sorry I caused such a fuss. Do they know what’s going on?”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” Will reassures, “They think you might have overdone it this week with the extra shifts you took on after school, your body couldn’t keep up.”

You sigh with an understanding nod, it didn’t surprise you that was the cause of your problems, “I thought I was doing a good job of keeping up, guess not.”

Will gives you a reassuring smile, “Hey, it’s alright, sometimes we can’t always get it right. You know you can always ask me or Jay to help you keep track or reassess, it’s not a bother.”

“Never a bother. It’s not even a question.” Jay chimes in, squeezing your hand gently.

Listening to their reassurance made you feel more relaxed for the first time in a few days, knowing that it was okay to take it easy and rely on your brothers a little more than you had been lately. “Thanks, guys. I guess you are pretty good brothers after all, even if you did stab me with needles and drag me here.”

The two of them laugh at your slight pout, Will looks at you with that smug face, “Sweetheart, sorry to say but we’d do it again and again if it meant getting you better.”

“And I carried you, actually, there was no dragging.” Jay corrects, feeling smug.

You huff, but you’re smiling too, slapping at both of their arms playfully, “Figures.”

Fin.

tags: @chrisevansdaughter - @elius-learns-to-write - @resanoona - @dumb-fawkin-bitch

597 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

Chasing Shadows Away

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

Warnings: Horror, violence, murder

Word Count: 3220

Summary: The reader dreams of their worst fears, and Jay is there to chase them away.

A/N: This is part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Hurt/Comfort" square!

My dreams are nothing if not good for writing fuel, ha!

[Dream]

You’re trailing behind Jay in the crowd, receiving stares as you pierce your way through the waves of bodies with hollers of his name. You can’t seem to keep up, his hand having been disconnected from yours, which happened several clusters of people ago.

There’s jostling and a frenetic blur of conversations, some of which you’re sure are about you and the commotion you’re making. You don’t care, however, the only thing on your mind is to keep tabs on the black [POLICE] vest on Jay’s back.

Anxiety coils around your stomach like a python, squeezing the more you try and free yourself of the sensation. To your dismay, your hand is met with thin air as you reach for your radio on your own vest.

Where the hell had your radio gone?

Fuck.

Paranoia in your line of work was generally a good thing, it kept you alert and tuned in to your surroundings. However, as you meet the eyes of judging civilians, who seem to move toward you in a silent threatening waltz, it does nothing but make your hairs stand on end.

You didn’t know why you felt so scared and so out of control, but you don’t know how to tame it anymore.

All the while your eyes haven’t left the back of Jay’s head for longer than a second, anger fizzing out of you as you watch your boyfriend and partner take a left and head for the elevator. You would surely lose him by the time you made up the distance between you.

You had no evidence for your next thought but as true as the sky is blue you know in your soul that to lose Jay to the elevator would mean disaster. Whether that disaster was for you or for him, you couldn’t be sure.

“Jay! For god’s sake!” You holler with abandon, with no concern about the scene you’re making.

A gap opens up in the shifting bodies ahead of you and you break into a sprint, thwacking shoulder to shoulder with faceless silhouettes as you keep moving.

It’s too late, however, the elevator doors begin to close just as you round the corner and you watch the back of Jay disappear.

You stand there breathless, the hum of activity behind you makes you grab at the back of your neck, trying to find some feeling of safety and security. The elevator ascends into the heights of the arched building, bright lights and a glass ceiling loom overhead, making you feel small.

Why wasn’t the team here? Why did Jay never look back for you?

You scrub your hands at your face, trying to collect your thoughts. You lift your eyes to the panel above the elevator entrance, there should be numbers there to tell you where Jay was going but there was nothing. Yet another jab at your gut.

With little option but to climb the stairs and go looking for signs of trouble that’s exactly what you start doing. You’re taking the stairs with speed as you make it to the first floor, another floor that seems to be full of people whose dark eyes are drawn to you, you felt that you were most certainly an unwelcome intrusion. Though you were used to that when on duty.

This time the floor is littered with couches, red plush velvet upholstery with canoodling couples and threesomes dressed in opulent gowns and suits, indulging in platters of food and flowing taps of alcohol. The air is thick with a pleasant-smelling smoke, it almost has an orange haze to it. You knew this place was somewhere for the rich and the elite, unsurprisingly insidious and almost cult-like in nature.

It feels as though you’ve fallen into an alternate dimension as you whip your head around, looking for glimpses of Jay. You’re avoiding the gaze of the watchers as best you can, inching forward to the next stairwell whilst keeping a distance from the silent pandemonium around you.

Suddenly in front of you, a sour-faced individual appears, feminine in appearance they align themselves with you, stopping you from moving further ahead. There are eyes are vividly green, serpent-like, their lips blood red. Those same lips are pursed as they point sharply in the direction of a small glass balcony that hung over the edge of the floor you were on, looking down onto the ground floor concourse.

For some reason, there are no words exchanged, and you can’t even bring yourself to ask for clarification, it’s like you instantly know that Jay is in that direction. There is no other choice but to go over there and see what awaits.

You nod at the strange figure, watching as they turn on their heels and strut away - catching briefly the couch-dwellers staring at you again. You could feel the inky black of their eyes, only pinpoints of white in their pupils.

The sooner you could get Jay and get the fuck out of here, the better.

Mindful of the fact that you didn’t know what was on the other side of the thick, long, velvet curtains that concealed the balcony, you keep a hand close to your weapon but your heart feels increasingly close to your vest, pounding relentlessly.

You couldn’t afford to act in a rash panic to get to Jay.

Inching forward you try and keep an ear out for signs of movement or voices, the crowd behind you seems to fade out as a sharp ringing tone pierces your ears, and you wince at the sensation. It felt as though you’d been caught in an explosion, something you had experienced on multiple occasions.

Of course, this was different, you knew that. You were certain you were actually in the undercurrent of a panic attack. Heart pounding, a sickly feeling in your throat, you feel the cold of your anxiety ripple through your adrenaline.

Still, no sound or movement in front of you as you come to a standstill in front of the curtains, balancing your posture to not fidget or jostle your vest too much.

You’re still processing how to handle what comes next when you hear the unmistakable metal whistle of a blade being unsheathed. Your heart leaps into your mouth, a shaking hand grasping the fabric of the curtain as you pry them open just a fraction, trying to see what the hell was happening.

“Oh my god.” You breathe out, and the sight in front of you is incomprehensible.

Jay is now stripped of his clothes, and his weapon and vest are discarded along with everything else. Tears and sweat stain his cheeks, mixing in with the blood that drips from his nose, drying into a rusty colour on his mouth. Angry red marks litter his skin, marks which look to be made with a blunt object. You suspected that blunt object was one of the many candelabras sitting at various heights on the ledge of the balcony.

Your boyfriend’s face is stoic, his nostrils flare in defiant anger, but you can see the fine tremor in his muscles as he tries to remain still, trying not to provoke more of what they'd already done to him.

They.

They were hooded figures, in black robes with gold trim, and black gloves to conceal anything that might show you who they were.

Your blood is rushing in your ears, the confined space of the balcony left you without a vantage point to attack from another angle or use the element of surprise.

“Time.” A deep voice utters, taking you by surprise. It doesn’t sound as though it came from any individual at all, but rather an omniscient presence from above, ethereal and intangible, surrounding you completely.

Between that last thought and your next breath, the sickening sound of metal slicing into flesh brings the world rushing back to burn you.

A stunned gasp escapes Jay's mouth, a grunt of unregistered agony as his brain fights to protect his pain reception.

The dagger in the gloved leather hand is pressed to its hilt in Jay’s abdomen, seated beneath his chest.

You watch in horror as Jay’s glassy eyes meet yours, weak hands trying to push away the stranger’s hands, you’re trying to move forward, your voice screaming hoarsely with no sound to speak of. The curtains move no further, unrelenting as they hold together with some unseen force.

Your boyfriend’s life fades in front of you, trapped in his glass prison as concealed robed heads turn to watch you, unrepentant as they make you watch your love slip away.

Your fists pound against the barrier, screaming Jay’s name in disbelief, willing him to keep his eyes open and look at you.

[Dream jump]

“Detective, this came for you.” One of Platt’s officers hands you a reasonably large box as you thank them and let them leave.

It’s a black box with no label or card attached, suddenly you’re confused as to how the officer knew it was for you. Realistically you knew you shouldn’t open it, it could have very well been something dangerous, but your feel compelled as you move on instinct, undoing the large gold ribbon wrapped around it.

The more you undo the knot in the ribbon, the worse the trembling in your hands gets, it was as though you already knew what was inside without seeing.

Lifting the lid may as well have been lifting a solid block of stone, discarding the top onto the floor as you peel away black sheets of paper.

The sight makes you gag.

Without hesitation, you knew that the pristinely cleaned and catalogued skeletal remains were Jay’s, returned from that incomprehensible and soulless place where they had taken his life in front of your eyes.

In your terror, your anger and your despair there is nothing left to do except scream, or at least try to. Throat-shredding gasps and squeaks tear at your vocal cords as you try and release your grief, fists clenched until–

[End of dream sequence]

You wake up still screaming, scrambling upright in the bed, thrashing around as that chasm of darkness swipes its claws at your consciousness, trying to pull you back in.

A warm hand on your bare shoulder makes you flinch, pulling away from it until you're almost falling off the edge of the bed. You whip your head around to the hand's source.

Concerned green eyes meet your wide, panicked, ones.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, it’s me. It’s Jay. You’re awake, everything is okay, and you’re safe with me. Breathe for me, honey.” Jay keeps his grip on you, gentle to not alarm you further but secure enough to prevent you from hurting yourself.

The longer the heat of his palm and fingers seeps into your skin, the easier it gets to breathe, the familiarity of his touch, the cadence in his voice, the smell of his aftershave, the quiet of your bedroom - it all grounds you.

That bliss of recognition relaxes your muscles, your eyes blinking against the sting of sleep and fear, tears that brim fall down in silent tracks on your cheeks. You know you’re safe, but the sensation of powerlessness and loss makes you feel like you’re dropping from a height, your stomach still giving involuntary flips of anxiousness.

“Jay.” It’s a broken whisper that makes your boyfriend’s heart ache, opening his arms up as you scramble back towards him, practically settling yourself into his lap as you wrap yourself tightly around him.

You kiss his neck, inhaling him as you steady your breathing further, slow and deliberate as you follow his guiding rhythm. Squeezing your eyes shut to get away from the tortured images, only to open them again as you see your greatest fears in that darkness.

Hands moving on instinct to feel every bit of him, stroking through his bed head, pulling back so you can look at him. His eyes search yours, trying to understand what you need, but it’s clear as you begin to trace the features on his face. His expression softens, nuzzling into your hand as you caress his jaw, chasing your hand to kiss your palm.

You study him again, cupping his face to press a slow kiss to his lips, he feels you shivering in his arms, the adrenaline and the chill of the room rattling your very being.

Wordlessly he lifts the duvet up and over your shoulders, cocooning you between him and the weighted, warm, material.

It’s not hard to guess what the nightmare was about, the way you watch him like he would disappear at any moment makes it all too clear. He takes your face in his hands like you had with him, reassuring you with certainty.

“I got you. You got me. I’m okay, I’m not leaving and nobody is taking me. Alright?” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, to your cheeks, then back to your lips - he takes your focus away from the “What if”, letting you hear, feel and see him from second to second.

You simply nod, resting your head back on his shoulder as he holds you, gently rocking you as you sigh. Your heart races still, but not in the gallop that it had been. You feel fingertips tenderly massaging at your scalp, trailing over your neck to rub your back.

Focusing on the heat of Jay’s skin, the softness of his breaths, and listening to his gentle words as he occasionally encourages and soothes.

After a while you feel yourself truly come out of the alarmed stupor, croaking out a “Thank you.” with your dry throat.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. This is what I’m here for.” He gently encourages you to look at him, making sure you see his sincerity.

You smile, rubbing your thumb over the bridge of his nose.

“Want to talk about it?” He tests, running his hands up and down your arms.

You think about the question, not sure if you were ready to relive the moments of losing him just yet. Perhaps it would be a morning thing, where the sun could shine on both of you over breakfast and keep those shadows away, only existing in the story you would tell.

You shake your head, smiling weakly. “In the morning?” You suggest, to which your boyfriend nods without hesitation. “Of course.”

You glance at the clock, it reads 2am and you hum in thought. Sometimes, you and Jay would go to the kitchen to make a hot chocolate, then settle on the couch to watch something mindless and relaxing on the tv - it was a ritual that usually worked if either one of you was struggling, but you didn’t want to keep Jay awake. Despite the day off both of you had ahead of you, it was late and the case you’d been on this past week had been an energy wipeout.

In the silent weighing of your thoughts, Jay’s voice brings you back, you notice he’s got that knowing smile on his face, hands settled on your waist. “Hot chocolate and whatever’s on tv?” He asks, but really he knows it’s a sure thing.

You let out a small laugh, kissing his cheek. “If that’s okay? I don’t want you to lose sleep over this.” You frown, still not sure if you should just lay back down and try to sleep.

Jay shakes his head, “Babe, when do we ever just cut this short and force ourselves back to sleep when we’re not ready? I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you’re not feeling totally safe and totally relaxed. You wouldn’t want that for me either, would you?”

You of course shake your head too, there would be no way you’d let Jay just suck it up and not do everything you could to help him wind back down. You had countless nights of dealing with his nightmares and helping him calm down to show for it, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Jay kisses your forehead, “That’s settled then. Gimme a second.”

In a swift motion, he extricates himself from the warmth of you, rooting around in a drawer for one of your sleep shirts, some fluffy socks and the fluffy dressing gown that hung on the back of the door.

Then he returns to you and begins to put the shirt over your head, helping you get your arms in before pulling your legs carefully to the edge of the bed, making you laugh at the military-like execution of this routine.

“Cosy?” He asks, and you nod, shimmying off the bed to stand. “Cosy.” You confirm, immediately putting your arms through your gown as he holds it open for you, trying the belt securely as the soft material instantly eases the tension in your body.

You watch as Jay grabs his own shirt, some sweatpants and some socks, patiently waiting for him to get dressed too. Then you’re reaching for the hand he holds out to you as you both wander down the hall to the kitchen and lounge.

The sound of the simmering milk on the stove and the smell of the cocoa being stirred in has become one of your most cherished things with Jay, watching him put everything together and take such care of you only ever makes your heart grow fonder.

It was times like this that unquestionably reaffirm that you wanted him to be your husband one day, hopefully, one not too far away.

The lights are dimmed low, the curtains are drawn and the air is warm, you feel safe in your world with Jay, and your nightmare is all but forgotten for now.

With a pour of some caramel and a sprinkle of marshmallows onto the swirl of cream, Jay brings two steaming mugs over and hands one to you, holding the hot bottom of the mug to make sure you can take the cool handle.

“Thank you, honey.” You smile, making sure he’s got room to settle next to you - using your free hand to hold the blanket up so he can climb under.

Settled against Jay’s side, you sip at your hot chocolate, the ever-present weight of his arm around your shoulder lulls you into serenity as you watch the opening scenes of Our Great National Parks.

You lift your head, looking up at Jay, “This is how it should be forever.”, you muse, following up with words that you want him to hear as many times as you can say it. “I love you.”

Jay leans in, knocking his head gently against yours, “Y/N, this can be forever, you don’t have to doubt that. I love you too.”

Taking the last sips of your drink, you set the empty mug on the coffee table, pulling your legs back up to remain in the heat under the comforter, slipping your arms around Jay as you pillow yourself back against him, feeling the vibrations of his gentle laughter - he loved how assertive you could be about your cuddling.

“Good?” He asks, checking in with you one last time.

“Good.” You confirm as stretches of beach and forest are shown in rich colour and wondrous sound - letting your mind wander unafraid, secure in the knowledge that Jay is right where he’s meant to be.

Fin.

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch - @enchantedblackrose

192 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

GUYS LOOK WHO POSTED

Free Will

Fandom: Chicago Med

Pairing: Will Halstead x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance

Word Count: 6462

Summary: Will makes a decision that throws everything the reader thought they knew into question. Where will the road take them?

A/N: This is part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Hurt Feelings" square! Thank you so much @resanoona for reading, suggesting and correcting my tired ramblings!

I'm so sorry it took me literally two weeks to get this fic done, but hopefully, the size makes up for it! Happy reading!

Sometimes it’s easy to convince yourself of something until reality so starkly and irrefutably proves otherwise. So the night you see Will kissing Nina Shore from pathology, in the middle of Molly’s, it hurts possibly more than you thought it could.

There had never been an official relationship between you and Will, but the both of you had become closer of late - a shared routine, the hangouts on off-days, the conversations you would share in quiet moments on shift, and the post-work drinks at various bars around the city had started to feel a lot like dating.

A year’s worth of getting to know each other beyond colleagues and now you weren't sure what you had to show for it.

You weren’t naive to the fact that a close friendship could be just that and nothing more. In some ways, you were okay with its platonic nature, yet Will always looked at you with such intensity and interest that you could have sworn it to be something else.

In fact, that night at Molly’s Bar was going to be the night. After multiple consultations with Maggie, April and even Connor who had chipped in with his encouragement, you felt ready to ask Will whether there was actually a chance of more.

Sometimes you considered asking Jay, Will’s brother, for his input on the situation but you were always afraid of the answer. There was always the possibility that Jay could tell Will and you hadn’t been ready for that complication either.

So, you were in the bar, wandering off from the large gathering of Med, Fire and PD friends, who had pushed tables together. They were well into their merriment of earned rest and you had decided it was time to visit Herrmann at the bar - liquid courage was definitely needed for what was coming next.

You smile brightly at the older man who gives you a wink, grinning at the sight of your familiar and friendly face. You were happy to wait patiently for him to be free to serve you, he had always been a source of wisdom and encouragement for you - one of the kindest people you knew.

Eventually, Chris makes it to you, a bar towel slung over his shoulder, “What’s up, Y/N, what can I get ya?” He waits for an answer, tilting his head curiously as you smile sheepishly. You're tapping your fingers on the counter as you measure your words.

“Hey Chris, can I get whatever will get me buzzed the fastest?”

Chris laughs, nodding, “Sure, Y/N, can I ask why?”

You knew that question was coming, and you cleared your throat.

Feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks, casting a brief look back at the table where everybody was sitting, laughing and engrossed in different conversations. You could see Nina shimmying her way around Connor to sit where you had sat next to Will.

Watching the scene with a jolt of irritation, you see her pressing up close to him. The conversation already seems intimate, and you can’t look away. Only brought back by Herrmann’s gentle call of your name.

“Sorry, Herrmann…Um, I was going to, uh, ask Will something important, I need something to quieten the nerves before I chicken out.” The words come out, but you can already feel your mind changing direction, the urge to abort the plan was growing fast.

Herrmann nods, holding his hands up in understanding, “Say no more. Good luck to you, kiddo.” Grinning as he pours you a few shots, he always was a champion for the romantic.

You hold out the shots to Chris in a ‘cheers’ gesture before knocking them back one after the other, feeling the liquid burn as it makes its way down your throat, a heat beginning to thrum in your veins. This was exactly what you needed, for better or for worse.

With the shots down and the confidence blooming in your chest, you say your farewell to Chris and start to shimmy through the crowd back to your table. You’re just passing where Matt Casey and Kelly Severide are sitting when your eyes lock onto an unwanted sight ahead of you.

Nina’s arm is looped snugly around Will’s waist, and he is the same in kind. You watch as he leans down to listen to something she’s saying, concentrating on her words over the hubbub of the bar, it makes him turn to smile at her.

From your position, you can even see the mischievous twinkle in Will’s eyes, and like a slow-mo car crash you feel your stomach drop as Nina leans up and Will leans into a kiss.

You’re frozen. Your trance was only broken by Casey’s concerned call of your name.

You blink, willing yourself away from the sight of your best friend making out with someone else. Turning to see Matt and Kelly watching you carefully like you were going to disintegrate at any moment.

“You alright, Y/N?” Kelly asks, standing from his chair to move closer to you.

There’s a ringing in your ears, and the full rush of embarrassment threatens to consume you, even if nobody else knew what you were thinking or how you felt. You felt transparent.

Eventually, you bring yourself to answer the firefighters, pushing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I’m good, guys. Sorry, I just remembered I’m late for something else. Tell the others I’m sorry I had to go?” You ask hopefully, not at all in the mood to show your face again at your corner of the large gathering.

They nod, wishing you a good evening, and telling you to be safe. To which you nod back, reassuring them that you would be fine and that you would see them soon.

Ducking your head as you turn around toward the door out of Molly’s, offering Herrmann a half-hearted smile as he watches you leave, feeling sad that he would know your plan had gone awry.

Then, you were gone.

Unbeknownst to you, Will had not been pleased when he discovered your absence through Casey and Severide. It wasn't annoyance, but rather concern.

He got a sinking feeling when he found out you’d gone home, in the back of his mind he started to worry that you’d seen the kiss between him and Nina. On paper, he had no reason to fear that possibility, and yet it nagged at him.

You'd never expressed an interest in Will, and he had been desperate to not be too forward with you, he never wanted to give you the impression that you were a rebound or a distraction after Natalie.

If pressed, he would admit that his thoughts on being with Nina weren’t the soundest or most logical, yet he didn’t know what else to do. With Nina there was something to the dynamic that never got too deep, it never scared Will as it did when he thought about having something with you.

He knows it’s not fair to you or Nina to think that way, yet here he was. There was too much to lose by asking to date you, your friendship was cherished by him and it had to be protected.

Will messages later that night, asking if everything was okay. He wasn’t sure if you would answer at all, but the “Yeah, all good. Just forget I had something I needed to do. See you Monday!” went some way to quiet his worry.

Even if the seeds of doubt continued to grow.

[5 Months Later]

It had been an extra layer of sucky when you discovered Will was not only dating Nina but also moving in with her. Ever since that night at Molly’s, you had done your resolute best to act normal, to not freeze Will out or feel resentful.

He had asked a few times if something was wrong or if something had happened, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth - what point would there be to hearing him tell you he wasn’t interested in you like that? It was easier to play it as cool as you could, being happy for Will like a good friend should.

Being invited to the housewarming was a real test of your resolve, however.

It was gone 7am at Med, the 7:30 shift was due to start rolling in at any moment, and you were wrapping up your patient notes from the night before.

Maggie was hovering beside you, she had come to investigate whether you were going to the Halstead-Shore housewarming, to which you’d pulled a face and she understood.

“Did you ever ask him if it was something more?” Maggie asks cautiously, trying to help you not feel so utterly rejected by someone who apparently didn’t even know they were rejecting you.

“No…I didn’t…but, oh Maggie, I’m still in shock at how I’ve got this so wrong.”

“Honey, you’re not an idiot, there must have been something there, alright? That man is like a brother to me, and I more than know his capability to charm. I've been trying to steer him right for years, but his dating game and communication skills aren’t always to the standard of his doctoring finesse.” Maggie smiles sympathetically, wrapping an arm around you with a small squeeze.

The charge nurse had offered to intervene a few times, but you didn't think it was fair to drop that on Will just because you didn't want someone else to have him.

You sigh, resting your head on her shoulder. Watching discreetly from behind the pillar at the nurses' station, Will passes Nina her coffee and kisses her cheek, no doubt promising to share lunch with her later.

You resist the juvenile urge to make a gagging sound and gesture with your fingers in your mouth.

Then, Will turns to move in the direction of the nurses’ station to get to the on-call room. You hastily disperse from Maggie’s comforting embrace and busy yourself with a computer, pulling up your last patient’s records, scrutinising them as if your life depended on it.

Breath held, eyes downcast, you dare not look as you feel Will’s approach, his fiery copper hair visible from the corner of your eye.

You type some sporadic notes at the bottom of your patient’s file, making a mental note to yourself that under no circumstances would you save the incoherent spiel once you were done avoiding the redhead.

Yet, there’s no such passing of the moment, Will makes a direct approach to you, a smile on his face as he watches you “concentrate.” His palm is warm on your back as he greets you, a cheerful tone to salt your wounds, “Good mornin’, Y/N.”

There’s a battle within to avoid sighing too loudly, you search for composure as you lift your head with a painted smile. “Morning, Will.”

“You’re here early?” Will queries, apparently convinced by your performance.

“Late, actually. I got called in to cover a shift, now my cover is a no-show, so now I’m taking my one.” Will frowns with a nod, knowing what was coming next.

He hadn’t been totally oblivious to the change in your mood lately, he just wished you’d get mad or say something, the silence was worse.

The more time passed, the more the sense of a moment missed weighed on him. He wished he could have put aside his fear and come right out and said “I love you!” all those months ago, but then after that night at Molly’s things had taken an altogether different turn.

With Dr Shore it was different, she had been a friend and a colleague too, but if Will was being honest, he knew it didn't ground him or scare him like his relationship with you did.

Between him and Nina, they understood the casual and mutually beneficial nature of being together, of sharing an apartment, and they had both agreed that they would take it as easy as possible.

You grimace, looking for absolution. “I’m really sorry, Will, I won’t be able to make it for your housewarming, I’m gonna need some shut-eye once this day is over.”

It’s the best excuse to not go to your nice new place and watch you be domestic and loved up with someone who isn’t me. You think to yourself, smiling apologetically.

“It’s alright, Y/N, it can’t be helped, we’ll miss you though.” He smiles too, a sadness settles in his eyes and you do feel a slight pang of guilt. It was for the best though, you decided.

He could spend the evening with his girlfriend and enjoy himself, and you could be spared from that. Your eyes struggle to steel themselves into an expression of unbothered and normal, Will catches a flash of it.

He squeezes your shoulder, trying to ignore the mantra of his own internal voice, the one that told him he had a mistake with you and, consequently, a mistake with Nina.

He couldn’t afford to think that now, not even if he wanted to.

“I better, you know…” He gestures to the on-call room, needing to put his stuff away and change into scrubs.

“Of course, yeah, you go ahead. See you in a bit.” You shoo him away, watching with a gnawing sensation in your gut. You couldn’t avoid this forever, you would have to face it head-on at some point.

However, as cruel fate would have it, as it often does, your replacement chose that moment to announce themselves. Dr Kumari had resolved their engine troubles with the help of a passerby, so here they were to relieve you of your double shift.

You had tried to somehow find a way to prevent Will from finding out, but that was impossible as soon as Dr Kumari had made themselves known and he had seen you with your coat and bag.

“Oh sweet, that’s great. Get some rest and we’ll see you later?” Will asks, hopefulness renewed. Maggie glances at you from across the nurses’ station, that sympathetic look was back as she offered an encouraging thumbs up.

You wanted so badly to find another way of squirming out of the obligation, but you weren’t looking to be an utter asshole to Will, he clearly valued your presence at this housewarming and, after all, you were still friends.

“Yeah, for sure! See you later, 7pm right?” You check, ignoring the cold thrum of anxiety that had started to tingle in your veins.

“Yep, 7pm, let me know if you get stuck finding us, our street is a little weird.” Will smiled, Cinderella could go to the ball and Will was elated to hear it.

You nod in acknowledgement of what he was saying, saying one more goodbye before turning towards the exit, letting yourself walk a considerable way out of Will’s eye line before exhaling defeatedly.

Now you’d need to buy some wine or a plant.

Despite your reluctance to even go to the housewarming, you had meandered into an ‘oddities and thrift’ store on your way home and found some gifts for Will and Nina. The store’s name ‘The Past and The Curious: Chicago Thrift’ had totally tickled you.

After being in danger of spending a whole shift’s worth of time in the three-storey building full of trinkets and history, you had stumbled across a few items that you thought would be cool to give them.

One was an old 50s dartboard that had both a traditional format on one side and a baseball format on the other; you knew that Will enjoyed a game of darts, and you were pretty sure you’d seen Nina outdoing a fair few colleagues at the bar on several occasions.

As an extra, you had found a vintage Cubs pennant you thought would make for good decor. Satisfied with your treasures you settle up with the elderly woman who sat at a counter that looked like something out of the Wild West.

Letting yourself into your apartment, you’re grateful to take off your layers of cold-weather clothing, placing your items on the kitchen table where you could arrange them in a gift bag later. For now, you are ready to eat, nap and then take a shower.

However, once you’d had some soup and put on your comfy clothes, the initial excitement over your purchases started to fade. As you roll over in bed, eyeing the red numbers displaying 11am, you feel the knots in your stomach ache in the background.

Exhaling frustratedly you shift again under the covers, desperate to find slumber in the plumpness of your pillows.

It’s Jay that answers the door at Will’s new apartment, apparently, he had taken on the role of security but also cloakroom clerk. Offering to hang up your jacket, take your gift bag and find you a drink.

“How’s it going, Y/N?” Jay asks casually.

With a swallow of the urge to spill your lovesickness to him, you smile, “All good, thanks, Jay. How about you?”

Jay lets out a small laugh, one that seems full of knowledge and scepticism with regard to your answer. “I’m good, Y/N, business as usual for me.” Jay doesn’t say anything else, but he’s looking at you differently, speaking without saying a damn thing.

You sometimes hated that Halstead smugness, it was clearly a genetic trait both boys shared. You were now sure he knew something about this whole debacle, but you didn’t know what.

You follow Jay through the small hallway into the front room where familiar faces are already gathered in different pockets of conversation. You spot Maggie and Sharon on the couches, with Will and Nina hovering nearby, and you spot Connor in the process of joining their group.

Jay sidles up to you with an extra beer in hand, seemingly getting it from thin air as he nods in Will’s direction.

The detective takes a sip of his own drink, again with that glint in his eye that makes you want to push him into the obnoxiously large cactus in the corner of the room. “Are you gonna say hey, or are we keeping a safe distance for the evening?”

You glance at Jay, a glare flashes across your features, settling into a frown and a half smile. You could tell Jay, for all his teasing, was actually looking out for you. He must definitely know how you feel about his brother.

A sigh escapes you, taking a swig of your beer. “Who told you, and why?” You ask, slightly disappointed that Maggie might have spilt to Jay of all people.

Jay chuckles softly, patting your shoulder. “Y/N, I got eyes. I see how you look at my pain in the ass, romantically challenged, brother.”

You’re about to say something when Jay continues, his face a little more sympathetic, maybe even sad, as he speaks. “And I saw you that night when they started canoodling, you looked pretty damn crushed. I had had my suspicions before then, but that night I knew. I wanted so badly to smack that idiot upside the head, but I didn’t know how you wanted to play it out. So I left it, and I want to apologise for not saying anything, but I figured you’d do what you wanted to do.” Jay shrugs, a grimace as he waits for your reaction, taking another swig to distract from the brief silence between you.

“Jay…” You start, your heart racing, and you half expect yourself to start crying but your brain protects you in front of all the people that could spot you break down. Surprising yourself as you remain composed.

“First and foremost, I’m not upset with you, why would I be? You didn’t know what I was thinking, and I had no idea you even knew as much as you do… I figured I’d let it be, who am I to stop him from doing what he wants? He seems happy, and we were long friends before we could be anything else, I don’t want to lose that.”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a comforting squeeze.

Jay is ready to continue, “Listen, I know he’s off with Nina, but you should know-” But Will’s voice bursts your private bubble and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Jay, you can’t use her as a shield from socialising with everyone.” Will approaches with a big smile, clearly glad to see you’d not abandoned ship at the last moment.

“Sorry, brother, just didn’t want you to bore her to death with the speech about where you got that cactus and the guy you got it from.” Jay grins, and Will rolls his eyes, steering you away from his brother towards Nina, Sharon and April.

You half-heartedly wave ‘bye’ to Jay, feeling the uptick in your nerves as Will’s hand stays on your back. “Glad you made it, Y/N, thanks for coming.” Your neck tingles with the softness in Will’s tone.

“Of course, Will, you got it.” You smile, internally cringing at your chipper tone. Your stomach flip flops at the slight brush of Will’s thumb on your back as he lets go, arriving at a stop next to Nina as you greet everyone.

The evening continues without incident, you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would. Nina turns out to be a good cook, having made a good proportion of the nibbles and snacks on offer from scratch. You even manage to have a few conversations with her, without feeling like you were suffocating under the secret you kept to your chest.

Will had kept a subtle eye on you throughout too, you had caught him a few times looking in your direction but for the most part, you weren’t tuned in to the way he worried about whether you were having a good time or not.

He also hadn’t missed the way you and Jay were talking earlier, he was itching to know what you were discussing but he didn’t want to intrude - the thought crossed his mind to pry it from Jay at a later date, which wouldn’t be easy.

Will was happy to have his friends around, and he really did think Nina was a great person, yet he couldn’t shake the gnawing wrongness in his stomach - the best way he could describe the sensation was “cold feet”. He sighs, refilling the ice box in the kitchen as he idly listens to the hubbub and music in the lounge, tuning in to the call of his brother requesting he hurries up in the kitchen

You’re sitting on a dining chair near the couch, next to Maggie as she squeezes you. You nod to reassure her that you were doing good, smiling as she keeps a comforting hold on your arm.

Nina and Jay stand at the front of the gathering, a natural aisle down the middle had formed to allow Will back into the room and to the ‘centre stage’.

Will sets down the ice bucket back on the refreshments table and faces his friends who are still chattering to each other, waiting for the speech to be made, a blush on his cheeks as Nina clanks her glass.

Will catches your eye for just a split second, you take a swig of your second drink of the night, a smile and a small silent cheers gesture to him before you look away and focus on something else.

Nina smiles brightly at the hush as she begins to speak, “Hey everybody. Um, thank you so much for coming. Celebrating with the people who know me and Will best, it means a lot…”

That was strike one for you, your stomach tensed in readiness for what else Nina was going to say.

“...But there is something that most of you may not know about Will. He’s still got a lot of Med School debt, but he paid part of his way through it by singing at Irish weddings.”

There’s a gasp in the crowd, a titter of excitement as Jay picks up Will’s guitar. You and Maggie look at each other, and Maggie is grinning, eyebrows raised in excitement. Neither of you knew you were getting food and a show tonight.

“What?” You hear Will exclaim, and you snorted as you took another swig of your drink. This was going to be good.

Ah, that was right. He’d left his guitar out earlier, forgetting to put it back in the case and stow it away.

He was going to kill Jay.

Will half-heartedly protests, but Jay thrusts the instrument at his brother with that same shit-eating grin you’d seen many a time before, along with a quip about needing to pay rent.

Sharon even pipes up, and it’s sweet to see Will almost immediately agree. Like a mother asking her son to play, he wasn’t going to be the one to decline now. Only further encouraged by Nina and the cheer of the group in front of him, including you, he takes the guitar in his hands.

The hush from before settles around the room, listening intently as Will begins to sing and play the strings beneath his fingers.

“Baby

It's been a long day, baby

Things ain't been going my way

You know I need you here

To ease my mind

All the time”

At first, you’re stifling your giggles of excitement, because Will had a great voice that you’d never heard before. Not only that, but you knew Will would totally smack Jay upside the head for making him play in front of everyone, and it tickled you to no end.

“And baby

The way you move me, it's crazy

It's like you see right through me

And make it easier

You please me, you don't even have to try”

However, with that excitement came the deepest urge to cry. An urge that you smothered by drinking your beer and squeezing the napkin you had in your other hand in a vice grip. Maggie’s grip on you had tightened too.

Jay was watching his brother, and that glint of pride in his eyes wasn’t hard to miss, despite Jay’s hesitation on the whole moving-in situation, he didn’t want to butt in on Will’s life, Will seemed to be happy.

You watched the man you admired and loved play with ease, his voice was somehow soothing and shattering as you watched Nina look at him the way you do when he isn’t paying attention.

A tidal wave of emotions that you’d managed to suppress since that night at Molly’s came crashing over you with each word of the song, feeling your heart stutter wildly as Will’s eyes focus briefly on yours.

You can’t look away, not even if you wanted to, the tears that you had so doggedly fought against now spilt silently over and down your cheeks. Quickly wiping them away lest somebody, that wasn’t Maggie or Will, notice.

“Oh, because

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing)

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing, baby)

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing, ooh)

Ever happened to me”

Will’s eyes glisten too, his heart thundering in his eyes as he plays on autopilot for the rest of the song. In the surreal moment of everyone else’s joy, the doting look on Nina’s face, he is crushed to see the look of grief on yours.

Listening to his head and his heart, louder and clearer than he had in all those times of fear and doubt, Will knows now without question he’s made a mistake. A mistake that will certainly hurt Nina going forward, but there’s also a mistake that’s already hurt you.

The latter is something that Will can’t live with.

It feels like an eternity as you try to calmly get up from your seat next to Maggie, hushed murmurs between the both of you as you quickly and quietly tell her that you need to get going. She can see the anguish on your face enough to not try and convince you to stay, offering a sad smile and an encouraging squeeze as she promises to text later.

You dare not glance back at Will, only offering a polite smile and nod to Jay as you squeeze past him between the clusters of people who had resumed their chattering and merriment. He doesn’t push now, the teasing at the start of this evening now makes him feel somewhat dickish as he sees the pain in your face.

Unbeknownst to you, Will can’t tear his eyes away from watching you leave, the prickly heat of worry and dread spreads across his skin. The desire to go after you was clear on his features, lost in his own moment of realisation, too caught up in the tumbling down of his own walls to realise Nina was witness to it as well.

She had never been clueless about your connection to her boyfriend, but to your credit, you had never overstepped or even tried to enforce your place in his life. However, now, as she watches the silent revelation play out in front of her, it’s hard to ignore the sourness in her throat. Her new chapter of life had been closed as quickly as it had started.

After the last of the guests say their goodbyes, a heavy silence begins to fill the air of the apartment, replacing the lights and the laughter with a stillness that sits like dark, weighted, rain clouds that threaten a downpour.

Will puts almost entirely too much focus on clearing away scraps of food, crumpled napkins and used plastic champagne flutes for there not to be something so obviously wrong.

Nina glances at him from time to time, the energy coursing through her body going into putting the furniture back with haste. She can feel her hurt and anger building, but there’s also a resignation, she just wishes Will had opened his mouth sooner.

Eventually, she can’t take it, straightening up the dining table, she can’t help thinking about the fact that it’s a huge mercy that their landlord had included a 7-day grace period in their rental agreement.

“Are you gonna say something? Or do I have to do that for you too, even at the very end?” Her first shot is fired into the thick air, which makes Will’s shoulders tense. A slow lift of his head from the fascinating sight of the garbage bag in his hands to the woman he was about to let down.

“Nina, I-” The look on Will’s face already has her jaw clenching, he was about to try and soften the situation somehow, something she didn’t want or need. She only needed the truth.

“Will, I suggest you think very clearly about what comes out of your mouth next. Just be clear and be honest with me.”

Will pressed his lips together, recalculating his sentence now that he could see this was really happening, it was now or never to face up to the reality of his feelings.

“Nina? I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone as committed to you as you are to him, and I haven’t been that person.”

Nina inhales a sharp breath, hearing it aloud stings, but at least it’s the truth. “It’s always been Y/N, hasn’t it?”

Will blinks, swallowing, staring his transgressions in the face.

“You messed me around. You acted as if I could be the only person you’d want this future with, but all along you knew the truth. You knew deep down that Y/N was who you really wanted, and you let us go through all of this - in front of our friends too.” Nina’s rage is the quiet kind, the kind that doesn’t need screaming or erratic behaviour to convey the gravity of its source.

“I didn’t know she had feelings for me, not for sure, not until tonight… I-... I’m sorry, Nina. I have feelings for her, and I shouldn’t have ignored them. I should have been honest from the start, from that kiss at Molly’s. I shouldn’t have let myself pretend.”

“Oh well, I’m so glad you’ve seen the light tonight, no more pretending, huh? Wow.”

Will’s eyes shuttered closed for a second, there was no getting around the mess he’d made for Nina and for you.

“Nina, I care about what happens to you, I-”

Nina held her hand up, shaking her head. She didn’t need to hear any more about how much Will loved you or how sorry he was that he still wasn’t going to pick her. “Please just go, Will. Get what you need tonight, we can arrange our stuff at some point. I just need you to go, please. Now.”

Will nods, picking up his phone from the coffee table as he silently heads to the bedroom to pack some things. He would be reacquainting himself with Jay’s couch tonight.

You were more than thankful that the following day was a day off for you. You could very well put your personal feelings aside for the sake of the job, but it was a relief to be allowed to cry in your apartment under a duvet and mindlessly watch episode after episode of Mythbusters.

Even though your eyes were staring at the laptop screen, your mind couldn’t be further from focusing on what was in front of you. You couldn’t stop replaying over and over the way Will had really seen you last night, he knew the truth now and you would have to live with that reality - whatever that might mean for your friendship.

So much was your melancholic reverie that the texts you’d received from not only Maggie but Jay and Will had all gone unnoticed and unread. Each passing hour was just as lovesick as the one before it until you felt like you were climbing the walls.

At around 2pm you decide to take a shower, put on some real clothes, open the curtains and take yourself out for a walk to get some food and some sunshine on your skin.

You’re just checking the lock on your front door when noise from further down the corridor grabs your attention, you figured that when you turned it would be one of your neighbours going back to their apartment. However, when you register the figure in front of you, you almost wish you could unlock the door and hustle back inside without being spotted.

Will was approaching you, a look of concern on his face that you’d rarely ever seen unless there was a serious emergency in the ED. As he gets closer his exhaustion is apparent, with hair that was unkempt and redness in his eyes that spoke of little to no sleep.

You were confused, to say the least, last night should have been a great night for him and he should have gone to bed with Nina to forget all about you.

As you stand frozen on the spot, pondering what could have possibly happened to have Will so stressed out, you almost jump when Will comes to a stop in front of you. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands deep in his jean pockets to stop them from fidgeting or rubbing nervously at his neck.

“Hi.” He murmurs, his voice gruff from a dry throat.

“Hi.” You utter, voice tight. It now occurs to you that your face probably doesn’t look too much better, even the shower wouldn’t have magically erased the bags from tossing and turning, and the redness from crying.

“What are you doing here?” You ask curiously, trying not to sound too blunt or rude.

“Can we talk?” He asks carefully, waiting for you to be upset with him as Nina had been.

You swallow, stomach flip-flopping with the gurgles of hunger to accompany it.

“Sure…I, uh, I was going to take a walk and get lunch. Wanna come?”

Will nods, taking a breath. “Sounds good.”

It’s not even 5 minutes into your walk until the silence between you almost becomes unbearable. The idea of breaking that silence seems to occur to you both at the same time.

“Will, I-”

“I broke up with Nina.”

You stare at each other as the words sit in your brain, coming to a halt tucked to the side of the sidewalk.

“You broke up with Nina? The Nina who you’re sharing a new home with?” You don’t mean for the sentence to be so blunt, but you’re stunned at this turn of events.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Will gives a pained and sheepish smile.

You’re frozen for a moment, trying to figure out if it was because of you without seeming too self-absorbed. Will seems to pick up on your thoughts, however, pacing slightly in front of you and as the words tumble past his lips, hands gesturing wildly as he tries to get his feelings across.

“And it is because I care about you, Y/N. I haven’t acted right at all, and I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready for anything. Hell, I don’t even expect you to want to be friends anymore, but I couldn’t lie to myself, and I couldn’t pretend like losing you wouldn’t be the biggest regret of my life. I shouldn’t have hurt you or Nina the way that I did, and I’m truly, deeply, sorry… I love you, Y/N.”

It’s surreal to think that this is happening in the middle of the street, whilst the world bustles around you. You look into the wild, soft, brown eyes of Will Halstead and you’re met with the truth now. You can see it there, the same sense of fear, grief and hope that had burned so strongly last night as he played the guitar and watched you cry.

You expected to fling yourself into his arms and kiss him senseless, but in reality, you nestle in close to wrap your arms tightly around him, your head tucked into his chest as you sniffle.

The warmth of his hand cradling the back of you makes you feel safe, his lips gentle as they press to the top of your head. A strong hold on your waist as you sniff rather pitifully, full of relief and shock, speaking quietly as though any louder would shatter some sort of illusion, “Please, please don’t change your mind.”

Will’s laughter rumbles through his chest, planting more kisses on your face as you look at him, laughter pulled from you too as you see your own joy mirrored on him.

“That was a one-time thing, sweetheart. I won’t be changing anything for as long as you want me to be here.”

Fin.

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch

200 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

BABE HAPPY BLOG BIRTHDAYY!!! UOU DESERVE ALL THE FOLLOWERS AND LOVE IN THE WORLD! SIMPLY THE BEST!

It's this blog's 1st birthday, and I am so thankful for the 1000+ followers who have engaged in some way with all the stories I've managed to write this past year, thank you to every single one of you!

Here are some stats for the year:

Stories Published: 54

Words Written: 264,775

Followers: 1,106

Special thanks to @resanoona and @elius-learns-to-write for helping me work through plots, problems and proofreading - you've helped so many stories make it to the light of day.

There are so many others that I see in my reblogs, mentions and comments but I am deathly afraid of missing someone, just know that I see you and appreciate you!

20 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Note

the links in your master list don't work

Just fixed it! I'd been meaning to do that for literal ages thanks!

1 note · View note

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Note

This was really kind thank you!

All you wonderful people 💛

@peakywitch @funsized-mimi @sheetsonfire @gaitwae @resanoona @theaudacitytowrite @platonic-tony-stark @multifandomwriter56

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🧡

these are the ones off the top of my head:

@saphiraprince22 @azrielhours @azsazz @eddiemunsons-girl @athena-writes-i-guess @ashwhowrites @bookish-whore @oliviajdjarin @ellievickstar @moonfawnx

257 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

God bestie have I told your recently how fabulous you are? This is literally everything and more! I adore the caring kelly we all know and love and the way everything was so accurate is incredible! It shows just how much time and care you out into your writing! Keep being amazing bestie!

In Sickness and In Health

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x GN!Reader

Genre: romance, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 2368

Warnings: just mentions asthma, taking an inhaler

Summary: The reader is having an asthma flare, and their husband Kelly Severide is there for them.

A/N: This is part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Sick/Illness" square!

You feel the strain on your upper body as you carry on coughing for what feels like an eternity, the sharp throb in the back of your head is a reminder of how much stress your body is under - as if you didn’t know already. Your eyes water as the muscles in your face and throat tense under the assault of hacks and wheezes.

A small gasp escapes you as the cough dies off and you can intake oxygen fully, trying to control your breathing and get in as much air as you could get before another round of coughing finds you. You could tell this wasn’t a full-blown emergency, but it was definitely a strenuous episode that was testing your patience.

Taking the opportunity to have a drink of water from the bottle you kept tucked next to you at all times. Cautious sips are followed by your weary body sinking against the mountain of pillows on the couch, Kelly had put them there before he left for work yesterday morning.

Your back aches from the jolting of everything with each cough that wracked you, and you couldn’t wait to feel your husband’s hands massaging away every painful knot. You try and roll out the pressure in your shoulders, mindful to keep breathing as evenly and slowly as possible.

When you think the window of opportunity is still open, you pick up your inhaler, puffing once as you deeply inhale the medication. Your eyes close in relief, feeling your chest respond almost instantly as you exhale, steadying yourself for a second puff.

You’re taking the second puff with an inhale as you hear a key in the front door to the apartment, your stomach fluttering happily as you realise Kelly was finally home from his long shift.

Carrying on with the inhale, you turn your head to Kelly, watching him put his bag by the kitchen island and something on the counter as he clocks you on the couch. You offer a small wave with your free hand, relief plastered over your face. Between the salbutamol and Kelly Severide, you feel your morning taking a turn for the better.

Your husband bends down to press a kiss to your forehead, a gentle hand already rubbing up and down your sore back. “Good morning, baby.” He murmurs, studying your face to see just how bad the coughing had been. Your eyes were a little sunken with bags, clearly tired from the night’s coughing and this morning’s continuation, he could see the tiny burst vessels in your cheeks from the pressure.

“Good morning, my love.” You smile, reaching up a hand to caress his face, studying his kind features, those sincere and intense blue eyes made your whole world come to a standstill. You run a gentle hand through that salt and pepper hair you adored so much, glad to see him home and okay.

“How are we doing?” He queries, coming to sit beside you and open up an arm for you to sidle in close against him, wrapping yourself around his body like the koala you were.

You hum, nuzzling into his neck with soft lips that move to trail across his jawline. Mumbling against his skin, craving the warmth of the skin-to-skin contact. “Doing okay, it’s been rough but nothing we haven’t dealt with before. Glad you’re here though, missed you a lot. How was shift?”

He smiles at your words and your affections, resuming the gentle massage of your lower back, working his way up to between your shoulder blades and back down again. “Shift was… a little tough, a few too many homes in trouble this time of year. It's cold out and people will use whatever they can for heat, some of it is dangerous. Hell, you know how the Chief met Donna.”

You nod with a pang of sadness, it was horrible to think people were endangering themselves in other ways because using their heating wasn’t an option. You bring your hands to Kelly’s face, holding him gently as you kiss him. You knew he took these things to heart, he hated to see people hurting and this was definitely a sore point. People had the right to be warm in the dead of winter and not risk burning down their homes to survive.

He looks at you for a good moment, and the anguish swims in his gaze, you were all too ready and willing to be his tether when things felt a little stormy. You softly bump your forehead to his, “You do everything you can for them, Kelly, and then some. I know that, and they know it too.”

He nods in acknowledgement of your words, smiling thankfully as he wraps his arms around you, tugging you onto his lap to hold you closer than you already were.

“Thank you.” He whispers, simply rocking you ever so slightly as he keeps you in his embrace.

“Nothing to thank me for, honey. Just the truth.” You whisper back, about to ask him if he wanted breakfast, to do anything today, or if he was ready to go straight to bed and catch up on sleep.

Except your chest has other plans when you open your mouth, a slight catch of air in your throat sends you into another round of coughs that make you push quickly up and off of Kelly as you try not to splutter in his face.

Hunched over on the couch as each wave of constricting muscle reverberates against your chest wall, dry wheezing sounds escaping as your ribs protest the action.

“It’s alright, baby, I got you.” Kelly encourages, holding onto you as he rubs your back carefully, feeling frustratingly helpless as you can only try and get it all out.

“S-sorry…” You cough out, eyes watering and your nose starting to stream, trying to push back against the spasms with futility.

Kelly shakes his head, kissing your shoulder, “Shh, don’t be sorry, don’t try to talk, just ride it out, I’m right here.”

There’s a pause in the coughing, without words Kelly is already offering you your inhaler, knowing now is the time to try and lessen the worst of it.

Your husband’s voice mellows your stress as he speaks, holding your free hand as you use the other to bring the inhaler to your lips. “You got it, take deep and slow breaths, sweetheart.”

Focusing on Kelly’s voice, you take another puff of the inhaler, breathing in as you feel the air fill your lungs, the release of pressure is merciful.

“There we go, exhale, baby.” He soothes, exhaling with you as you feel yourself sag slightly against Kelly’s embrace.

“Let’s do the second puff, okay?” Your husband encourages you, and you nod, knowing it was probably a wise idea.

You push on the canister, feeling the almost metallic tang of the medicine hit your tongue once more. Filling your lungs again all the way until you’re ready to breathe out.

There’s a slight dizziness from the exertion of the coughing and the headiness of the medication, letting Kelly take the inhaler from you as you have another drink of water.

“Here we go.” Kelly plucks some tissues from the dispense on the coffee table, offering a few to you so you could blow your nose and use another to wipe your eyes. Keeping your breaths steady and even as you clear your sinuses, dropping the tissue into the bin as you move on to dabbing at your stinging eyes.

Once you’re done, you have no desire to do anything else but stay in Kelly’s arms, wrapping yourself around him like you had when he first came home.

You rest your head on your husband’s shoulder, “We’ll keep an eye on that, that’s half your dose for the day already, isn’t it?” He asks, slightly concerned by how much energy it had taken from you.

You hum in the affirmative, seeking his body heat and presence all the more now, absentmindedly tracing over the tiny metal links of the chain around his neck. Kelly always made you feel safe and taken care of, even more so now when your asthma could so easily progress to something more severe.

“Want to stay here or want to go to bed?” He asks, stroking your hair softly.

“Kelly, I’m supposed to ask you that.” You grumble, annoyed that you were having this episode, you had wanted to do things for Kelly when he came home from work, not the other way around.

He lets out a small incredulous chuckle, kissing your nose, “Y/N, did you forget the “in sickness” part of our vows? I don’t for one second begrudge taking care of you, especially when you have no control over it.”

You wouldn’t say you were pouting exactly, but you were pretty close to it. You let out a little sigh, tracing featherlight fingertips over the features of Kelly’s face, admiring him.

“I know, but still…” You frown, “Kelly, I’m sorry.”

Kelly becomes a little more serious now, not liking that you felt the need to apologise all the time. He knew exactly where that habit had been instilled into you.

His face may be sterner, but his voice is tentative, “Babe, I know that your mom made you feel like you weren’t allowed to be sick, or that the coughing was a disturbance, but I need you to understand that with me, under our roof? There’s nothing to be sorry for, you haven’t done anything wrong and you’re not a burden, not even close. Is that clear?”

You hesitate to answer, still conflicted, but you can see Kelly as always is so very genuine in his words. He knew what it was like to have parents who didn't always show up for their kids, and you knew it struck a chord in him. So you nod. “Okay, yeah… that’s clear. I love you.”

He smiles, kissing your lips this time, “I love you. Now, where to?”

"Mm, could we try a shower first? I think I need the steam." You concede, already daydreaming of the warm water and the steam that will ease your discomfort. Already planning to finish it off with a cocoon of pillows, a weighted blanket and Kelly's body heat to make you feel better.

Kelly nods, smiling, "Steamy shower it is, then bed and a movie?" He queries, knowing you liked a little background comfort when you weren't feeling well.

You nod, rubbing his arm in thanks. "Okay, we'll pick something when you're settled. Come on." He encourages you, taking you by the hands to help you stand. You sway just a little but Kelly is there to steady you, an arm around your waist as you both walk to the bathroom.

Your back hurts from the movement, but you're finally able to prop yourself up in the bathroom chair whilst Kelly runs the water, letting it get steamy and hot enough to soothe but not burn.

“Kelly?” You ask sleepily, watching your husband’s back and arm muscles move as he reaches to adjust the shower head.

“Yeah, babe?” He turns, watching with an affectionate smile, you could be positively adorable when you were sleepy.

“What did you put on the kitchen counter earlier?” Your voice is curious, one might say hopeful, you already had a hunch of the object as you thought you recognised it to be an olive green crockpot from a certain household.

Kelly chuckles, he could tell you already knew. “It might have been some of that vegetable broth you love so much from Cindy. There’s fresh bread in my bag too.”

Your tired eyes light up, “Oh my god, that woman is truly heaven-sent.” you sigh happily, gleeful of how this day was turning out despite the circumstances.

“Mhm.” Kelly hums in agreement, “I told Herrmann yesterday you were feeling rough, so he must have put out the soup signal to Cindy.” Kelly approaches you, stopping to take off his own clothes before moving to you.

You yawn, smiling, “I have to text them later, don’t let me forget.” Standing with Kelly’s help as he starts to undress you carefully, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he helps you behind the glass of the shower. “I won’t let you forget. For now, let’s take care of you and get that steam working.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You tease, letting your husband massage your shoulders and neck, as you take deep inhales and exhales, letting the steam into every pore, feeling your chest ease up in its ache and tightness.

“That’s my love” Kelly praises, holding you close to his chest as he walks you through some breathing exercises, knowing his voice always added a layer of calm to the process.

45 minutes later and you’re towelled dry, bundled up in your pyjamas and fluffy socks, cosied by a heating pad and waiting for the soup that Kelly was warming for you. There were extra blankets, water, your inhaler and some painkillers on the nearby bedside table, there were also tissues, lip balm, a nasal inhaler and some snacks for the movie too.

It’s not even another 15 minutes before Kelly’s in bed beside you, both of you gratefully sipping on the vegetable broth, feeling it warm you from the inside out, watching the opening scenes of Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, you couldn’t be more content.

An hour into the movie, your soup is gone and your tray cleared, you’re finally nestled against your husband with no intention of moving any time soon, his chest is your pillow as you feel yourself doze off and on, Kelly’s fingers so gentle as they slowly stroke through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.

“Babe?” Kelly whispers, checking to see if you were awake, only to be met with soft puffs of breath as you fall deeper into slumber. Your husband simply keeps his hold on you, smiling to himself as he allows his own eyes to rest.

It was never a question in his mind, long before he stood at the altar he knew, that in sickness and in health, he would be there for you.

Fin.

@resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch - @stuckyxren

295 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME CRY?! I was literally tearing up during the argument between Jay I'm not even gonna lie to you bestie. Also love Kevin omg that man is such a legend ❤️ KIM AS WELL! amazing stuff as always bestie!

The Red Strokes

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: angst, romance, fluff

Word Count: 4611

Summary: Wires are crossed and assumptions are made, can the reader and Jay resolve what has been left unsaid?

A/N: I'm finally posting again, hooray! This is part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Fight That Ends In A Kiss" square!

Oh, the blues will be blue and the jealousies green

But when love picks its shade it demands to be seen

Oh, the red strokes

Passions uncaged

Thundering moments of tenderness rage

Oh, the red strokes

Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)

Burning the night like the dawn

The Red Strokes by Garth Brooks

You sit in the passenger seat of Kevin’s car on the way back to the 21st, your mind is a whir of clouded thoughts that morph from one thing to the next until you ultimately settle back on that one thing that sticks into you like the mother of all thorns.

“Hey, Y/N?” Kevin approaches gently, he and Kim had debated about it that very morning whether he should say anything at all, but given how you and Jay were bickering at the scene today, he felt it necessary to at least try and help somehow.

“Yeah, Kev?” You ask almost robotically, still transfixed to the outside world blurring at the same speed as those thoughts in your mind, your chest ached something fierce.

“You can tell me to mind my business, and I want you to know I appreciate you and respect you, but…” Kevin pauses, clicking his teeth as he hesitates to finish.

You owed Kevin this much, he was your partner now and it was important to not shut out the one person you so intrinsically relied on from day to day. The irony of that code of conduct was not lost on you, given how you and Jay treated each other at the moment. “It’s okay, Kev, you can ask whatever’s on your mind.” You sigh, smiling sadly, waiting for the words you knew might come next.

Kevin takes a breath, calculating his words carefully, “I get not challenging Voight on the change of partner, he’s got his rules and his own decisions to make. I just don’t get what’s happening to you and Halstead, right now. This isn’t you, and it sure ain’t him, you two seem to be arguing over sharing the air that you breathe”

There’s a beat of silence, and you swallow. You can tell Kevin seems to be worried he’s overstepped, but you hold out a hand with a small shake of your head.

“You’re not wrong, Kev.” You say quietly as if uttering the words would destroy the wall you'd built to keep thoughts of Jay out.

“Did you ever ask him what was on his mind?” Your partner’s tone is soft, it’s not laced with accusation, only a simple reminder of things you had ignored in cowardice and fear.

“I-... He never asked me either, Kev. He didn’t even fight it, he welcomed it, couldn’t wait to call her ‘partner’, and show her the great land of the 21st District like he was some royal prince who had found better blood to share the kingdom with.”

The lack of an answer from Kevin only makes your words feel as petulant as they had sounded and felt coming out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, Kevin. I know, you’re right. I didn’t ask him, and he didn’t ask me. We let it go, we let each other go and now I don’t how to change that. I get so angry when I see them together. She’s an amazing detective and she’s been nothing but good to me, and yet…I can't seem to shake it. What if they’re good together, and not just at work? I’m not making a fool of myself like that, man.”

Kevin hums in thought, “I can’t prove 100% there ain’t nothing going on, Y/N. But I’ve known Jay for a while now, just like you have, and I think he’s trying real hard to not push it with you. He’s not letting go, I think he’s trying to hold on to whatever’s left and let you do what you need to do. And you can slap me for saying it, but it can’t keep on like this, Y/N, or you’re gonna lose all of it.”

The words linger in the car, and your eyes sting with the beginnings of unshed tears. Atwater wasn’t wrong on anything. You had been so busy focusing on what Jay was or wasn’t doing, that you hadn’t done anything to help this situation either.

You needed to fix it, and fast.

[Flashback Dream]

When Hailey Upton gets assigned to Intelligence it’s immediately easy to see why she had been handpicked by Voight. Her quick thinking, unrelenting energy and knack for being unphased by what others thought of her made for good police work. Hank had clearly thought so too, given that at the end of that first week he decided she should join Jay as the only other detective in the unit and be his partner. Instead of you.

Voight tells you and Jay in his office one morning, and more hurtful than the news itself is Jay’s lack of reaction. In fact, he seems all too happy to nod and say, “Of course, Sarge, she’ll fit right in.” This leaves you with no choice but to nod and say “Of course, Sarge.” too, even if you actually wanted to say “What the fuck, Hank?” and “What the fuck, Jay?”

Throughout the day you wait for Jay to tug you aside in the break room, or in a corridor, or strike up a conversation in the basement as you gear up for a scene, but he never does. He never tells you that he hates the decision, he never tells you that he would miss you, that he wants you.

Of course, you could have chosen to tell him first, but that felt like an unthinkable option. The vulnerability of such a situation didn’t seem possible, so when Jay’s first move still doesn’t come you tell yourself to keep your mouth shut.

She’s better than you, that’s what you decide. Your first instinct is to turn your frustration and hurt inward, you make yourself respect Voight’s decision and tell yourself that it’s what you deserve. To lose Jay is your own doing, you weren’t good enough to be Detective Halstead’s partner, whether that be personal or professional.

“It’s good to have you on board, Upton. Welcome to Intelligence.” Jay was as ever the professional, shaking Hailey’s hand as he spoke. You watched from behind your computer as he smiled at her. There was some sort of recognition or connection there as if they’d met before.

You were about to return to work, choosing to force yourself to get over the juvenile feelings of jealousy and resentment, focusing on the notes in front of you. However, from across the way, you hear those fateful words that send you right back into a spin.

“Come on, partner, let me show you the locker room.” The words flow with ease as he gestures for Hailey to go first, not even glancing at you as he walks away.

Hank seems to sense your gaze, focusing on you for a moment with eyes that are knowing, that feel somehow judging and reproachful, they seem to say “This is exactly why he’s got a new partner.” without saying anything at all.

The air leaves you a little and the sting of embarrassment knocks you for six. You were an idiot for thinking Jay really liked being your partner, and you were a bigger idiot for thinking that there was something between you and him that would somehow survive Hank’s law of no relationships. Ironic considering you and Jay seemed to be the furthest away from a relationship than you’d ever been.

You swallow the last bitter and cold drops of your coffee, losing yourself in the brightness of your screen and the dancing profiles in front of you.

Heartbreak was not on your agenda for today, no matter how much your chest hurt.

[End of Flashback Dream]

You wake up from the memories with a sharp intake of breath, the hurt in your chest proves to be in the waking world as your anxiety thuds out a wild rhythm with your heart. You're unable to stop replaying the day it had all started to turn sour.

Things felt particularly scary this morning, after your talk with Kevin in the car, you had decided to extend the olive branch to Jay. You felt a good portion of the responsibility for the current predicament, in the moments of clarity and hindsight you could see Jay was simply following orders and respecting the decision that had been made.

It was you that had let the jealousy consume you, it was you that had turned every action into a slight on you.

You could have just asked Jay what he thought or felt, then you would have had an answer to react to. Instead, you had let him think the worst, and he had let you run rampant with your indignation.

Today was going to be different, you were going to make sure of it.

Walking up the stairs to the bullpen you had coffees and pastries for everyone, spotting that you were on time but still the last to appear.

You give everyone a smile as you set down the goods, responding to the “Good morning”s and the “Hey”s you received.

You meet Jay and Hailey’s eyes, offering them the same genuine greeting, complimenting Hailey on her hoodie which really did look cosy.

You could at least commend yourself on the fact that you had never taken any of this out on her, in fact, you both got on really well. She had only the misfortune of walking into whatever was going on between you and her new partner.

“Jay, can I borrow you for a moment?” You ask as disarmingly as you can, finally striking up the courage to really look at him for more than a few seconds, mustering a smile that wasn’t so totally laced with fear or sadness.

Jay swallows, nodding, “Uh yeah, of course, Y/N. Let me just-”

It’s your miserable luck as Voight comes out of his office holding files with a look of immediacy on his face.

“We’ve got a case, and the wheels are already rolling on this one, robbery-homicide wants our help. It’s going to be undercover, got us some rich white folks getting ripped and killed in the process. Jay and Hailey will do the UC.”

All of your personal thoughts are swept by the tide of work from the minute Hank slaps the first few victim profiles on the whiteboard, along with suspects and locations.

The case is in full swing for most of the week, you make sure to be a partner Kevin likes having and one that he deserves. He had always been good to you ever since you were put in the unit, but especially now he had been there for you and that wasn’t something you let yourself forget. He could have easily chewed you out a few times here and there but he hadn’t, only extending you patience and understanding instead.

The real speedbump test of your sanity comes when Jay is finally put undercover with Hailey on the third day of the investigation. They were supposed to pose as a couple trying to rent a highly-priced apartment. They would meet with the realtor who was in cahoots with the suspected gang and would scope out potential locations for a robbery.

The idea was that new residents were naive enough to share secure and private information with their realtor, exchanging details about their routines and their valuables that they wouldn’t otherwise share. That information would then be passed on, and the new residents would become the next targets on the hit list.

Of course, being a couple meant Jay and Hailey were going to be doing and saying couple-y things, and that had been particularly daunting for you after weeks of concealed pining and missing your partner's proximity.

You listened on the wire with Adam and Kim in the van with you, on the monitor you could see Jay and Hailey holding hands around the tour of the apartment, discussing excitedly where they were going to put valuable pieces of art, sculptures and historical artefacts in the office space.

They would exchange doting looks and the occasional kiss, each gesture only serving to drive pressure into your forehead between your eyes. It was surely giving you a migraine.

Still, you stayed the course, you supported your team when they needed it, and you did everything you needed to put the job first. The rest of the day was spent trailing the realtor around and following their digital footprint until eventually, you realise you had caught them on a greedy day.

Jay and Hailey’s appointment with the realtor had been an information-gathering exercise, that rip wouldn’t happen for the next few days, you had expected the investigation to carry on until the week’s end, but it turned out that the gang were in a daring mood.

Keen to try a previously planned rip on a different home that same afternoon, the gang’s activity had Intelligence moving fast to the next location.

You held onto Kevin’s shoulder as you followed him down the corridor on the ground floor of a three-floor mansion that had just been renovated. The air still smelled of paint and plaster as you shuffled in the now-darkening rooms toward the back of the property where the gang’s commotion could be heard.

Your team moved in unison and unspoken communication as you, Kevin, Adam and Kim flanked either side of the property.

Jay, Hailey and Hank had moved to the back of the property, and each small team had officers from robbery-homicide with them.

It’s over almost as quickly as it starts, the open plan nature of the property and the countless windows and doors made it easy to see inside and attack from the most ideal points.

The masked figures guarding the family drop like flies as officers pick them off one-by-one. You and Kim move fast toward the twin girls in the family, untying their bonds whilst Kevin and Adam get the parents.

Behind you is the commotion of Hank, Jay and Hailey’s team taking care of the other gang members who appear from upstairs on the property.

You clutch the child in your care to you, shielding them from any wayward bullets or unseen assailants until a chorus of “Clears” is yelled out by each of the leading officers.

The smell of gunsmoke is strong, you and Kim wrap the girls in your jackets until ambos can arrive to check them out, carefully leading them to their parents who sob in relief when they see their children are okay.

You turn to Kim to check she’s all good, then you scan the room to catch the eyes of the rest of your team, glad to see that everyone was fine.

The eyes that you catch last are the green ones that make your body hot and cold, your heart constricts as it remembers the deed it’s yet to do.

Then, Hailey is in view and she’s slinging an arm over Jay’s shoulder, clearly and rightly satisfied with the results of the bust.

The eye contact between you and Jay is broken as soon as it’s even made, you watch as Jay wraps his arm around her waist, laughing at something she says.

You don’t waste any more time on the feelings that were fighting their way back to the forefront of your mind. Instead, you turn back to the others to discuss the cleanup and the procedure that follows a bust.

Unaware that those green eyes had returned to watching you as you head out to direct forensics inside.

It’s late in the evening when you finally have a cocktail in hand, sat next to Kim as the bustle of the bar surrounds you and your team.

Everyone from Intelligence, except for Hank, was letting the pressure of the week’s work decompress with a few rounds at Molly’s. So it wasn’t even like you were the third wheel with Jay and Hailey. Yet somehow after that moment between them back at the scene, your sour mood had returned with full force.

Once you’d changed back into civilian clothes at the District, you were back to driving yourself crazy with your own petty thoughts, wishing like hell you could just let it all go.

You had yet to even see the evidence of a relationship between them that wasn’t professional, friendly or strictly undercover related. Beyond a good rapport, sincere eye contact and the occasional hug or playful punch, there was literally nothing else to report. All things of those things you and Jay had shared at one time or another, but those small things, rightly or wrongly, had become something big to you.

You found it hard to keep that forced laughter going, found it hard to even look at Jay for longer than a few seconds. You’d caught the way his face dropped each time you made eye contact, the way he’d take a long swig of his beer to swallow down whatever was on his mind. His apparent indifference was maddening.

Everything Hailey and Jay said or did somehow affronted you, and the more you tried to get a handle on your emotions the worse it somehow felt. Kim had sensed your distracted and irritated mood, doing her resolute best to turn your attention to her, Kevin and Adam - it had little effect.

“Hey, do you need an escape route?” Kim whispered, a gentle hand on the small of your back.

This would have been the moment to call it quits and head home for some much-needed sleep; but your nerves were frayed beyond the point of salvation, frozen in your seat and doomed to stew in your own jealousy, confusion and anger.

Shaking your head at Kim with a weak smile, holding onto the tattered shreds of appearing sociable and engaged, you take another sip of your cocktail. You focus on the tangy burn of the alcohol as you hear Hailey laugh at something Jay had said.

Adam gives Kim a look, and she worries her lip between her teeth. She couldn’t see how this would end well either, but you were nothing if not stubborn.

When it came down to it, this was all about your shaken confidence and your lack of ability to make the first move. You had tried so hard to protect yourself from your feelings towards Jay that now you were staring at a possible reality that you’d driven him away altogether.

You knew deep down that Jay had never pulled away, he was only keeping a respectful distance to honour the steps away from him you had taken - Kevin had been totally right about that, you were sure. You had wanted Jay to try harder, which wasn’t fair, and you hated yourself for it.

“-and that’s when Y/N said…well, Y/N, you tell them, you can do the story justice.”

Several seconds pass when your brain offers the information that someone had been talking to you. That someone is Adam. You snap your head up from your staring at the watermarks on the table, seeing that your friends were waiting for your input with expectant, somewhat waning happy faces.

“Uh, ha, yeah. So-... actually guys, I’m sorry, I need some fresh air. Be right back, you all get a round on me.” You stand, feeling the alcohol in your legs, still mostly sober but weighed down by everything else.

You’re haphazardly fishing cash out from your pocket, passing it to Kim with a nod as you wander hurriedly towards the front door of Molly’s, the panic and upset bubbling to the surface. You don’t look back at the confused expressions or the worried murmurs between the group and some of the other patrons who knew you.

As soon as you’re outside you feel the embarrassment wash over you like pins and needles, the pit in your stomach feels like it could devour you from the inside out. You’re feeling childish, you’re feeling wronged, you’re feeling stupid, and you’re feeling the fire in so many directions you’re not sure where it’s going to land first.

Unfortunately for Jay, he chooses that exact moment of your conflict to try and catch up with you outside.

“Y/N? What’s going on, come on, talk to me we can’t keep doing this-”

You know it isn’t his fault and not even close to the accuracy of the situation, but your mouth doesn’t get the memo and the venom passes your lips before you can stop it.

“Talk to you, Jay? Don’t even say that to me! You don’t look at me, talk to me, or acknowledge me for weeks, and now I’m supposed to talk to you? Did you suddenly get bored of playing house with Hailey? Am I going to be the next best option, huh? I don’t think so! I’m not stupid and I’m not something you can pick and choose when the mood takes you. So just go back inside and leave me be!”

The words linger in the cold air between you and Jay. You watch his eyes harden, and his jaw becomes terse in that you’ve seen many times before. In an instant you know you’ve struck a nerve, and Jay doesn’t seem to be feeling in the mood for coddling you and your sensitivities.

As if to confirm your thoughts he scoffs, looking away for a moment before turning back to you, fire in those green eyes that makes your heart thud nervously for what was about to be dished back to you. He steps forward, pointing an accusing finger that might as well have been a knife stuck into you.

“You’ve got guts, you know that? I didn’t split us up, Y/N, that wasn’t our fault but you let it be mine! I tried hard to be patient, to be understanding, I didn’t want to be someone else’s partner either. But you know what? This isn’t fucking high school, we’re adults, and you let it become something bigger than it had to be. I wasn’t the one who pulled away, Y/N, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand here and be told that I don’t give a fuck about you when it couldn’t be further from the truth!”

You stand in silence, nostrils flaring as you flounder for a fight, flight or forgive response.

Lips pressed together, looking away as you kick at the loose stones on the sidewalk. “Well, that’s great to know, great to know that I could have been something to you this whole time, and now it’s tough shit because somebody else beat me to it.”

Jay scrubs a hand over his face, moving in one stride to tilt your chin and make you look at him, the hurt still laced with anger in his tone. “I never said I was with Hailey, and that’s because I’ve never been with Hailey! What do you want me to do, Y/N? What’s it gonna take to make you see? Why the hell do you think Voight split us in the first place, or did you forget how he treats partners who get too close? Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t fight him on it because it was the truth?”

He studies you and you study back, both of you are panting from the yelling and the adrenaline surging between you. You could see that he really was upset about everything you’d put him through, and you could feel the frustration with yourself bubbling over, you had put him through hell and for what? Your wounded pride had shown itself to be quite the problem.

When you don’t speak, Jay’s nostrils flare in dismay, shaking his head, “Say something, Y/N, I can’t-”

You’re done with talking, you’re done with dancing around it all, simply grasping Jay tightly by the collar of his jacket as you tug him those last few inches until your lips are pressed desperately to his, feeling him moan with what can only be described as a growl in his throat as he kisses back, hands gripping your waist roughly as he puts all of his energy into you.

The air outside is biting, but the heat of Jay so close to you is enough to make you forget. Your clutching fingers eventually relax to rest on his shoulders and neck, pulling back to look at him with wild and worried eyes.

You wait for the anger to remain, or for him to declare it “Too little too late”, but he doesn’t. Giving you the courage to speak as you see a smile start to grace his lips, “I’m sorry, Jay. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Your thumb strokes the nape of his neck as you wait for a reaction, Jay’s hands are holding you securely, virtually pressed chest to chest in the middle of the sidewalk with the world still spinning around you. Illuminated by the streetlights and the glow of Molly’s as he studies your face.

He leans in, kissing you softer now, peppered kisses to your jaw and to your cheeks, “I appreciate you’re sorry, and I’m sorry too…but, Y/N, I don’t need you to be sorry anymore-”

There’s a slight pause that makes your heart drop, maybe he was going to reject your apology and tell you that it wasn’t going to work. What if-

Jay’s quick to fill the pause and stop your anxiety dead in its tracks. “-I just need you to be mine, if that’s what you still want too.”

Your breath is caught, and your legs are jelly with the nerves and realisation that this was actually finally happening.

The sound of a door behind you is followed by Kim’s voice, “Are you guys good?” She tests, noticing quite smugly that you’re clutching at each other.

“We’re good, Kim. Go away now, love you.” You holler, still looking at Jay in awe.

You hear Kim’s laugh and the sound of the door opening again, “Going away, love you too!” Hearing the door clunk shut as if it put you back in the safe bubble with Jay again.

“So?” Jay asks softly, waiting with bated breath.

You swallow, nodding eagerly and unashamed of that eagerness. “I want to be yours, please. If that’s what you still want.”

Jay chuckles, “It is, it really is.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, letting you fold into his embrace as you hold him tight, nestling your cheek against his chest.

“Mhm, this is nice.” You remark, shivering in Jay’s arms. Jay snorts, “It is, but how about we do it in the warmth of my apartment? Or yours?”

You hum in thought, “Yours sounds good, you still owe me a drink and takeout from our missed hangout last week.”

Jay’s eyebrows go up in a silent point being made, the reason you hadn’t met up was that you were busy sulking.

“Yeah yeah, I know, it’s my fault… But I'm still sad we missed it, your couch is bigger than mine. Takeout’s on me this time, might be some dessert in it for you.” You tease, letting that innuendo sit.

Jay nods with a grin, “Sounds like a good deal. Come on, let’s go home.”

You reach for one of Jay’s hands, another silent squeeze of apology.

He holds your hand tight as you both cross the road to get to his truck, you had hitched a ride with Kevin and didn't have your car anyway.

You make a mental note to text the others later to apologise for bailing early and taking Jay with you.

You were sure they wouldn’t mind, instead being thankful that the war was over between you, in favour of you both being annoyingly in love and mercifully quiet instead.

Fin.

A/N: Whew, I hope the ending wasn't too lame! Here's to hopefully writing more stories to see the year out!

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch - @enchantedblackrose

162 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

The one with a plan:

Being friends with Nat goes sideways when you remember that she is a trained spy who is not against forming a plan to get her two favourite people together. @i-writes-things

I took this a little bit out of the request hope you still enjoy!

If someone would’ve told you 2 years ago that you were going to become an avenger then you would’ve probably believed them. I mean you had superhuman abilities so stranger things had happened. You had been scouted for ‘The Avengers Initiative’ by Fury himself after you had been put on their radar after a little accident including an old woman, a shopping trolley and some fire (in your defence that was an accident and if she would’ve had moved and not stolen out of your cart then it wouldn’t have happened). That was how you met your now best friend Natasha Romanoff.

Inseparable. With all the words the others could use to describe your friendship with Nat, that was the one that sprung to mind first. While you might have been younger that didn’t mean you were any less of a dynamic duo! After 2 years on the team doing missions that ranged from starting fires in the basement of a Hydra base to destroying information to making sure that some rich man had proper security for an event, you could safely say that your makeshift family was very very close. Way too close if they asked you. However no one did. That’s why you would continue to sit on Nats bed for at least an hour a night as you swapped stories about new recruits and how much you hated them.

That was how you had learnt about Peter Parker or Web Boy as Nat affectionately called him. You had been talking to Nat about the usual things; the one new agent who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, that one girl who constantly ‘got lost’ and wandered into the living quarters on nearly a weekly basis, and that one person who just didn’t know what they were doing. You aren’t too sure what they’re doing here if you’re being honest but that’s above your pay grade so that makes it someone else's problem.

That was until she decided to bring the new web slinger into the conversation. “Tony is obsessed with the kid, it’s endearing in a strange way” Nat sighed as she flopped herself onto the bed “Nat you think everything is strange about Tony, anyway I’m sure he’s sweet enough. At the very least he won't be totally clueless” you laughed. How have you become the level headed one in this friendship? “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she paused, taking an overly dramatic breath “you know he’s about your age, it’d be nice to finally have someone your age hanging around the compound” another pause “no pun intended”. You had to laugh at that, how could someone with a kill count larger than even the richest man's bank account be making puns without trying?! “Natasha, whatever you are thinking, I want you to stop. I have you guys! I don’t need any new friends” you spoke fiddling with the edge of the fluffy blanket you had stolen from Natasha the second you entered her room. “I wasn’t thinking about anything!” Oh you definitely didn’t like that look on her face.

Coincidentally you had met Peter a few days after your conversation with Nat. Well, more slammed into him as you turned a corner but first impressions aren’t everything. “Whoa hey I am so so so sorry” the boy stuttered, the tips of his ears turning a red that you were pretty sure matched the colour of Nat’s hair. “It’s nothing really, I should've been looking where I was going, it's not your fault”. It was his fault but when a stuttering cute boy slams into you, you don’t tell him that he is in the wrong. You had been on your way to a training session with Steve that you would’ve rather avoided anyway. “Are you the new arachnid on the team?” you questioned. You knew the answer, you just wanted to see how long you could put off turning into super soldier soup. “Uh yeah I am Spider Parker. I mean Peter man. I’m sorry Peter Parker nice to meet you” he chuckled, rubbing a hand nervously behind his neck, finding a very interesting stain on the cold tiles. “Y/n. I’ll see you around bug boy”.

From there your relationship with Peter flourished. You quickly found yourself seeking out his company whenever he came to visit (which did result in a semi permanent ban from Tony’s lab after a freak screw driver accident). The seeking out of company wasn’t just one way though, Peter found himself gravitating towards you whenever you were near. He also found himself thinking about you a whole lot more than he should’ve. There was no chance in hell that he was going to do something about it though, why would he? This was his first ‘super hero gig’, his first time joining the big guns. Why would he jeopardise that? He was also deathly afraid of Natasha which certainly didn’t help.

“Earth to Peter Parker” you shouted, throwing a pillow at his head, giggling a little as he jumped “sorry off in my own world” he replied, the same blush you saw on him when you met coating his cheeks once again. He had come to your room for your now weekly movie nights (which had all started after you confessed you hadn't watched any of the starwars movies) but honestly he had spent more time thinking about you than he had spent time watching the movies. It had become obvious when you let the credits roll and didn’t get his normal summary of the movie. “Right Parker, what are we doing now?” you asked more to yourself as you debated on whether to paint his nails or make him put a face mask on with you. “Do not think about putting a face mask on me, I don’t need Captain America hearing me cry” he warned, which would have seemed a little bit scarier if it weren't for the plethora of pillows piled around him. “Fine then nails it is”.

If only you would’ve seen the look on Nat’s face as she walked past the room to see you in a fit of giggles after peter spilt nail polish on his joggers. She couldn’t stand to watch you idiots dance around each other anymore. This called for a team intervention. Operation ‘Get the idiots together’ was officially in action.

People would’ve thought that being an avenger meant that you were on high alert every minute of every day. However, put someone's crush in front of them and they apparently forget every ounce of training they’ve learnt. That was how you ended up getting shoved into a utility closet from the red head you loved most. With the boy you had a crush on nonetheless! “Right you two are not allowed out until something happens because looking at the both of you makes me want to tear my hair out” her muffled voice came through the door. Groaning you both knew that unless one of you admitted your feelings (that you were entirely sure only went one way) you were not getting out of this. “Parker I swear I have no idea why she’s doing this' ' you pleaded with the boy, who when forced into a confined room with you didn't seem able to look you in the eye. “I- I might have some idea as to what she’s referring to” finally he looked up at you, you could see something in his eyes, an emotion that you didn’t recognise on him. “Parker if this is some prank I’d pay very close attention to your shampoo bottles for the next couple of months” you gritted out. Although there was no way that you thought he would do something like this to you it wouldn't be the first time hair remover ended up in the wrong bottle. Just ask Bucky. “No! It’s not I promise” he stopped “the other day Mr stark asked me to order some food to the compound, we were working on this new suit of his and we hadn’t eaten in a while and well we were kinda hungry” one thing you would say about Peter is when he went on ramble nothing would stop him. Well almost nothing. “Peter, your point?” you cut him off, listening to small spaces did nothing for your heart rate and you wanted out. “Right sorry, I went onto his phone and he hadn’t shut his messages, he was on a group chat started by Nat called ‘Operation get the idiots together’ and well yeah” oh. OH. Nat was so dead when you got out. “Look Peter I am so so sorry that you were forced into a cupboard, I swear I didn’t want you to find out like this and if you never want to talk to me again that’s completely fine by me, well it’s not fine but I’d respect it” it seemed the both of you were as bad as each other when it came to word vomit. “You feel the same way?” Now that is how you effectively shut someone up. “Yes- hang on, did you just say the same?!” your exclamation was soon cut off by F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice “operation ‘get the idiots together’ complete. Lock-down lifted”

#avengers x you #avengers insert #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha imagine #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff #peter x teen!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

111 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Note

Hiya! Okay so here's my request to help you get back into writing :D

So the newest Avenger somehow becomes close to Natasha and then when meeting the rest of the team follows for Peter parker and in different group chats with diff avenger peeps they talk about how R and Peter are totally dating or going to date something. So they all totally know except r and peter and there just acquaintances at this point... You can decide how it plays out from there

Thank youuuuu! Have a good one :)

I'm actually so excited to make this! It'll be out by Monday night GMT! Hope that's okay! X

2 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Note

Hi, can I request a story?

Of course! I need something to get back into my writing so feel free!!

1 note · View note

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

This right her everybody, is the world's most talented person. I literally adored every second of this! With the bits about otis, the crash, number swaping! Everything was perfect once again bestie

Five Times and A Date

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Genre: Meet-cute, romance, fluff, drama

Warnings: Trapped underground, brief descriptions of injury

Word Count: 5774

Summary: Five times Matt Casey and the reader meet, and one time they go on a date.

A/N: Part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! This fic fills the "5+1" square! It was going to be my Coffee Shop AU but it took on a different life of its own, haha.

The First Time

The first time you meet Matt Casey, he’s a total stranger.

He’s approaching your spot on the sidewalk, you stand in front of a coffee shop, seemingly looking for a key to get in. He’s about to go past without another thought, but he takes note of the way you’re rifling through your bag, purposeful and desperate. He can hear you muttering to yourself as you come to a terrible realisation.

You let out a disgruntled whine of frustration that was quickly escalating into anger with yourself. You knew this day was coming, and here it was. The loose clasp on your keychain that held all of your work keys had finally come untethered, separating the main door key from the rest of the herd. That key was now nowhere in sight, possibly stuck in your bedroom or by your own front door, or even riding around on the L Train next to someone’s feet.

Now you were left locked outside the coffee shop as the shift opener, with another hour to go until someone else would or could show up. Instantly your brain begins to whir with thoughts of how delayed you and everyone else would be because you hadn't replaced the keychain sooner.

In the midst of your internal anger, you hear a quiet clearing of a throat, with hesitant footsteps approaching closer. You spin sharply to glare at the stranger who had intruded on your spot outside the shop, this morning of all mornings.

At first glance, your brain rather embarrassingly notes, perhaps too fast, how handsome the stranger is. Neatly kept hair, kind eyes and a disarming air about him, his hands already out in a placating kind of gesture.

“Good morning, uh, couldn’t help but notice you seem stressed. Are you locked out?” He asks, and it feels like you’re talking to Captain America himself, he’s polite and apparently eager to help.

Of course, you can’t know for a certainty that this stranger is any of the things your sleep-deprived and underpaid brain is telling you he is, especially in such a short space of time. You sigh, hesitating before you answer.

“I might be… Who’s asking, and how do you know I’m not trying to break in?” You’re defensive and you don’t know why, it was hardly the man’s fault you were in your major pickle. Besides, the soft smile and hint of amusement on his face really didn’t scream ‘nuisance’.

The stranger scratches the back of his head, looking for an answer that would satisfy your scepticism.

“Well, uh, I’m Matt Casey, I’m a firefighter over at Firehouse 51, and I happen to work construction on the side - so I know a few things about locks like those.” He points to the door that remained firmly locked and shut, its lack of openness mocking you silently as you hoist your bag back up your shoulder, the rest of your keys clutched in your fist.

Matt, as you now know him, continues, “As for how I know you’re not breaking in, well, no offence but if you’re a thief working in broad daylight, with no mask, walking around in hospitality clogs that aren’t great for running, and you’re trying to break in with keys you apparently know won’t work? That’s kinda weird.” He shrugs, smiling in a slightly teasing fashion.

You roll your eyes, allowing yourself a noise of amusement. He had several points and you weren’t going to deny the man any of them. The laughter bubbles out of you before you know it, covering your face with your palm in slight embarrassment. Your defensiveness had gotten the better of you, and you can’t find it in yourself to keep giving this guy a hard time.

Matt seemed genuine, looking him up and down you could see that he was indeed in station gear, wearing what looked to be a CFD jacket with a goat on the emblem.

You’re about to say something when he nods his head across the street, “That’s my truck over there, it has my construction details on the side…Just in case you wanted to take down the info. I appreciate being approached by a stranger whilst you’re alone at 6 am isn’t exactly a comforting prospect.” He stops talking, and then, “Sorry, now I feel like I’m trying too hard to earn your trust, I’ll just-” He moves to walk away, giving you extra space.

Instantly you don’t want him to go, there’s some kind of pull in your mind that seems to mean more than the need for an emergency locksmith.

“Matt.” You blurt, stopping his worried ramble. “Matt, is it?” He nods, and you hold your hand up in apology.

“Sorry, yeah, you caught me off guard but I can see you’re just trying to help, and I’m so desperate to get into this godforsaken building, I’ll take whatever help’s passing.” Your lips turn up into your own teasing smile, “Besides, there’s like a bajillion cameras around here, and how could you have possibly known I’d be here unless it was pure luck?” You stop, then, “Great, now I’m overtalking.”

There’s a pause between you both, locking eyes with each other as you smile stupidly. Matt can feel his cheeks heat up ever so slightly at your scrutiny, he shakes his head with a chuckle, “Start over?”

You share the laughter, shaking your head at the both of you. “Start over.”

Matt clears his throat, gesturing to the door behind you, “So, I couldn’t help but notice you’re locked out. Need help?”

You’re enjoying this little charade, but then you feel a flurry of panic in your stomach, realising you don’t have the cash to pay for the work. “I think I’d really appreciate that, Matt, but I’d have to figure out payment, so-”

Your new acquaintance very quickly protests, “Hey, come on, who said anything about money? Now that would be an ass move, offering my help and presenting you with a bill after? Not my style.” He stops, realising he hasn’t got your name in return. “What’s your name, if I can ask?”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, it’s uh, it’s Y/N.” You offer, realising that with every passing exchange you’re finding Matt extremely approachable.

“Okay, Y/N, nice to meet you. Let me just get my tool bag, alright? See what we’re working with.” He offers a reassuring smile now.

“Nice to meet you, Matt. Thanks, that would be great.”

You exhale, feeling excited that your problem was going to be over soon, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him move to the truck. Already deciding you would thank your saviour with hot coffee, a sweet treat and an invite to come back any time, on the house.

The Second Time

The second time you see Matt Casey is on the local news saving a kid from a high-rise building in a very daring rope rescue. Of course in his brief interview with the news crew, he is reluctant to take the applause or gratitude, drawing attention to his fellow firefighters and the joint effort all of their work requires.

You kick yourself for not getting Matt’s number after he had sorted out the lock, it wasn’t as though you didn’t have the chance when he was sitting at a table with you, drinking coffee and indulging in the raspberry and vanilla creme danish you’d given him.

You consider swinging by his Firehouse, but you’re not really sure what you’d say or do. You thought there had been some kind of rapport there when you’d first met, but your self-confidence had since dwindled, enough that you felt you couldn't justify the visit without feeling like a stalker.

You sigh as you taste the pasta sauce in your pan, checking for the right amount of flavour and seasoning. If the universe gave you another opportunity to see Matt Casey in the flesh, you’d get his number.

The Third Time

The third time you see him it’s in a way that had not even remotely been on your wheel of fortune. You were trapped in a derailed subway car, with no major injuries but pretty banged up. There's a sizeable lump on your forehead and a gash on your arm that wouldn’t quit leaking blood. It was a less-than-ideal end to your shift.

“Fire Department! Call out, and let us know where you are if you can!” At first, his voice is just a voice, you’re not totally focused on him in the haze of darkness and smoke, haphazardly thrown between two sets of seats, besides the smashed glass of a window.

The sound of people’s distress and the emergency alarms in the tunnel are a distraction. The lights on the firefighter helmets feel like alien beams coming down the subway car to take you back to the mothership.

“Fire Department, call out!” There that voice is again, why did it make your stomach flip? Why did it make you feel safe?

Oh. Oh. Yeah. He’s a firefighter, that’s Matt!

“Matt?” You try calling out, realising you hadn’t spoken since before the accident. Your voice crackles in the hubbub, making you inaudible. You try again.

“Casey, I’m here! Matt?!” You cough in the smoke, wincing with a small groan as you knock your arm against one of the support poles, aggravating the swollen and stinging flesh.

There’s a beat of silence, only the sounds of machinery and boots stomping, and then, “Y/N? Is that you? Y/N, call out!”

“Here!” You try again, your voice is loud but strained.

The boot steps are moving faster now, until a frantically moving beam of light lands on your face, moving quickly out of your eye line when Matt realises he's burning your retinas.

His worried eyes look you over, noticing the grease and grime as well as the blood, the bruising on your face and forehead is apparent. He crouches in front of you, gentle gloved hands outstretched to assess quickly. “Y/N, where else are you injured? Can you stand?”

Your voice shakes, the adrenaline of everything that had transpired firing your thoughts a mile a minute, the reality of the situation sinks in now that a familiar and caring face was in front of you. “Uh, j-just my head and my arm, I think, they’re the worst. I think I could stand.”

Matt nods, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N, I have to keep looking for people, but my buddy Otis is gonna help you get out of here and to safety, okay?” He nods over at another firefighter, the one you assume is Otis.

You wished Matt was coming with you, but you weren’t so totally wrapped up in your desire to be close to him to protest or show your need. Whoever Matt trusted, you trusted.

Brian, or ‘Otis’ as he was apparently nicknamed, was fun to talk to, he had kept you distracted from looking at any of the horrors in the other subway cars or on the track. All in all, a very sweet guy who made sure you felt safe and supported the entire journey through the tunnel, eventually handing you off to the paramedics with minimal stress or jostling.

When you’re in your treatment room at Chicago Med you spot Matt talking to some of the nurses and doctors in the ED. You smile to yourself, your nerves somewhat ebbing away at the sight of him, he made you feel calm and protected without even trying.

As if he could sense your eyes on him, he happens to look up and right at you sitting on the bed with your arm now patched up. You were waiting for the results of your CT scan to come back. Dr Halstead had assured you it was probably nothing to worry about but he needed to be sure.

Before you know it Casey had made his way across the ED and was now standing in your treatment room, again checking you over with eyes full of worry.

“You okay?” He asks, stepping in closer to you, almost on the verge of reaching to hold your hand.

His face is also smudged with smoke, he had stayed another hour after your rescue looking for victims and helping with debris, before being told to take a break and check in at Med.

You nod. Not really sure what to say, your lip wobbles. You were okay by all accounts, your arm had been stitched, and you were getting treatment for your head, but at the same time, it had been a pretty freaky experience.

The next thing you know you’re tucked in the embrace of Matt, your tears soaking into his jacket as your body trembles. The shock of everything escaping in one fell swoop. He’s warm, a steady palm rubbing in soothing circles on your back, soft hushes “You’re okay, it’s alright.” as you sniff.

“I’m…sorry…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You half laugh and half cry some more, looking up at him as he remains holding you, feeling silly for crying in front of him.

His face is serious, making sure you understand, “Hey, you don’t need to be sorry, it happens in situations like this, okay? You don’t need to feel embarrassed, Y/N, trust me.” Offering you a reassuring smile as he squeezes your shoulders.

“I do.” You murmur, looking up at him.

“Do?” He asks, confused.

“Trust you.” You state with a weary smile, your heart lurching in your chest, not sure why you just let that out of your mouth. You could at least hopefully put it down to your scrambled brain.

His face breaks into his own smile now, eyes lighting up at the comment, he’s about to say something else to you when a man with a salt and pepper head of hair pops around the curtain, another firefighter. “Case, we gotta head back out, let’s roll.” The head disappears again and Matt turns back to you, apologising with a dismayed expression.

“I’m sorry, I-”

You smile through your still watery eyes, sniffing. “It’s okay, you go, I’ll be totally fine, thank you for everything, Matt. Seriously.” You reassure, giving him a gentle nudge in the direction of the exit.

“Be safe,” You instruct, giving him a stern look. He nods, amusement on his face at your bossy well-wishing as he leans in to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

He utters a soft, “See you around, Y/N.” before leaving you sitting awestruck with goosebumps rushing across your skin.

It’s when you get home in the early hours of the morning that you realise you still don't have Matt’s number.

The Fourth Time

The fourth time you and Matt cross paths is back at the coffee shop, it had been a few weeks since your subway incident. This time he’s in his construction gear, much like the station gear and the turnout gear he looked handsome and ready to help anyone in need.

This time, however, you’re not locked out, nor are you stuck underground. With all of your tasks up to date and a little in the way of custom, you arrive at the conclusion you’re bored out of your mind.

The sight of Matt in his slightly worn jeans, heavy tan boots, and a navy blue plaid shirt is already causing an uptick in your rating of today. His lighter tufts of blonde hair peeking out from his beanie, and the dark brown jacket with the borg collar altogether make him look like the cosiest lumberjack in the middle of Chicago. Something you would neither confirm nor deny finding extremely attractive.

He enters with purpose, already looking around for something or someone, and it’s beyond your control to not feel the butterflies scatter in your stomach when his eyes land on you. Not missing the way he smiles excitedly as he moves in your direction.

He eyes the few customers dotted around the space, noting they were already sipping from their respective mugs and cups. “Hey! You’re here, I was hoping to catch you. How’s the arm and the head?”

You lean forward on the counter, helpless to not return the excited energy. You had been wondering when you’d see him again, if ever. You always expected the next time to maybe be the last time, just a fleeting stranger who made your heart race. You kicked yourself for not getting his number the first time and then again forgetting on the third time, this time was going to be the moment, the universe was clearly trying for you.

“Hey! I am indeed here, and I’m glad you caught me. The head and arm are good, nothing to complain about. How’re you?” Your bruises are fainter now, your head only slightly discoloured from the swelling and bruising, but otherwise okay. Your arm was beginning to scab over.

Something about Matt Casey made you so inherently giddy, and you didn’t mind in the least when he moves in closer to keep the conversation just between you.

“I’m just glad to see you're okay, and I'm good, I’m just doing some work on a house around the corner. Thought I’d visit my favourite person…” Matt realises instantly how it comes out, trying to recover, “My favourite person who makes coffee.” He laughs awkwardly, feeling the squeeze in his chest as he becomes a little self-conscious.

“Oh, just your favourite coffee maker, huh? And here I thought, after what we’ve been through, that we were ready to become good friends.” You know he didn’t mean to let it come out so strangely, but there’s still a slight pang of disappointment when he recovers. Yet, you still choose to tease him, deciding that was a more entertaining option.

“Sorry, Y/N. Sometimes my mouth doesn’t work. Of course, I was happy to see you, and to get coffee from you, two separate positives to my day.” He exhales, eyes rolling at himself in a comical manner. You let out a small snort, giggling.

“Matt, seriously, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself every time we talk. You’re doing better than 90% of the people that interact with me on a daily basis. What can I get you?”

Matt grins, eyes twinkling, “I’ll have a latte please, one pump vanilla if that’s okay… and only 90%?” He quips.

You pretend to think about the question, “Hm… okay, I can be pushed to 93%.” You grin as Matt chuckles, riding the confident wave you were on, slotting the handle beneath the grinder as you talk, “Might even be persuaded to 98% if you finally give me your number.”

Matt’s eyes widen, his smile permanently affixed to his face. Your smile drops, however, realising he may not want to give out that information, so now it’s you who hurriedly corrects yourself, “Only if you want to of course.” You flatten down the grounds with the press, smoothing them off before putting the handle into the coffee machine itself, letting the shot pour into Matt’s cup. You move to steam the milk ready for the coffee.

This prompts Matt to snap out of his excited trance, “No, no! Sorry, Y/N, of course, I want to give you my number, I was just surprised that you’d want it, is all.”

“Why is that so surprising?” You ask, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, adding the vanilla to the coffee before pouring the milk.

“Well…” He hesitates, scratching at his neck subconsciously.

You let out a slight noise of amusement, Matt had never been so shy around you. “You can say whatever it is.” You slide the cup towards him, ignoring his attempt to pay with a push of your hand against his, shaking your head. “Go on, say what you were gonna say.” You encourage, resuming giving him your attention as you lean forward with your arms resting on the counter.

“Well, most people we meet will come to find us if we’ve made an impact on them. Whether we rescued them, a family member or otherwise, they, uh… they usually stop by the Firehouse. So I figured maybe I was picking up the wrong signals, I didn’t want to presume that because I did you a favour that you’d want to see me again. Otherwise, you’d have had my number since the first time we met.”

Your eyebrows go up in surprise. You thought you'd felt something there, but you never realised just how on your level Matt was.

“The first time, huh?” You repeat.

“Yep, the first time.” He answers, sincere with a glint of something mischievous in his eyes.

You’re about to ask the question when the door opens and a group of 6 pile in towards the counter. You struggle to not sigh loudly and exasperatedly.

Really? Now? Come on.

Matt reaches out to press something in your hand, picking up his coffee cup with the other as he begins to depart from your company.

“See you around, Y/N, let me know if you’re free later?” He shifts out of the way to let the group approach you, smiling apologetically as you give him a small wave. You quickly look down at the small business card Matt had pressed into your hand, it had his construction information on it.

More importantly, it had his number on the back.

The Fifth Time

The fifth time you meet Matt is outside his firehouse on an off-duty day, there were various cars and trucks parked along the street with a hubbub of chatter just to the side of the entrance.

Among the small crowd, you could see foam fingers in the shape of blue and orange bear faces, blue and orange balloons and a variety of jerseys and t-shirts sporting the Chicago Bears logo. This was the meeting point before travelling together to Soldier Field.

Matt had invited you to a game with his friends, all of them from first responder backgrounds. There were plans for a pre-game meetup, a barbeque and then the game itself, complete with post-match drinks. A spare ticket had become available and you were his first point of call. Or rather, text.

You had been texting for the last week or so, discussing your days, your interests, things you had both been wanting to try or places you wanted to visit. It was going well, and it made you all the more optimistic when you got the game invite.

As you approach the party on the sidewalk, you hear his voice bright and excited. “Hey, Y/N! You made it.” Matt jogs over to greet you as you wave, wearing an old Bears jersey you’d found at a thrift store, complete with a navy cap and sunglasses on a wonderfully sunny day in the city. He brings you in for a hug and you get a waft of his aftershave and sun-soaked skin, his embrace is secure and comfortable, and you smile into his shoulder as you give him a small squeeze.

You pull back with a grin, “Hey, Matt. It’s good to see you.”

He winks, making your heart skitter, “It’s good to see you too. I’m so glad you’re here. I want you to meet some people.” You’re still reeling at how happy he seems to have you around, putting a gentle hand on your back as he guides you to the small crowd of laughing and joking people.

You rode with Matt in the front of his truck, he had all of the BBQ equipment and some chairs loaded onto the truck bed. Both of you discussed the day ahead, what your game predictions were, what you wanted to do after the game, and what you thought of Matt’s friends.

There were only positive things to say about the group, each of them had been so kind and welcoming already. Stella and Kelly had been especially sweet, but you really liked meeting Matt’s friends from the CPD. Hailey and Kim were practically making moves to adopt you as their companion for the day, instead of allowing Matt to keep your company.

Now you were hanging out with the others, nestled into their part of the parking lot.

You thanked Hailey as she passed you a sweetcorn tamale from Mama Garcia’s van, holding it in your mouth as you caught Jay’s throw of the football, passing the ball to Matt as you take a second to eat the tamale properly, laughing at Kelly’s disgruntlement as he watches everyone suddenly eating before his BBQ was ready.

Just as you receive another throw from Jay you hear a commotion coming from behind Matt, brows furrowed in confusion and worry as you start to hear screaming. Watching as everyone from your group downs tools go to investigate, following their instincts as responders. You can only watch with concern as you keep an eye on everyone’s things, trying to figure out what was happening without getting in the way.

It takes a while for anything else to happen, feeling anxious at the crowd that had followed Matt towards the incident.

You started to hear a few people talk about “some guy” looking dead, and that he looked really sick before he fell to the floor. Watching with a gnawing feeling in your gut that something could be deeply wrong, especially as you started to see police, fire and ambulance services trying to move in on the crowd and disperse the congregation.

Eventually, you see Kevin heading back in your direction, jogging towards you.

“Hey, uh, Y/N. We’re really sorry but we got something serious going on. Casey said to make sure you could get a ride home, and he said he’d call you as soon as he could.”

“What’s happening, Kevin?” You ask, your fear carrying in your voice.

Kevin scrubs a hand at his beard, his eyes filled with an emotion that seemed to be his own trepidation that he was trying to keep under wraps. “We don’t know yet, Y/N, it’s not looking too good but I can’t say much more than that. Are you good to get back home?”

You nod, swallowing, “Yeah, yeah, of course. I can find my way back, it’s not a problem. Just be safe out there, okay?” You reach out, squeezing your new friend’s arm.

He rests a hand on your shoulder, “Stay safe, don’t go near anybody that you think looks sick, just call 911 and let someone come. If there’s anything you need, call Casey or me, alright?”

There was something on Kevin’s face that told you it had become all too real too fast, even for him and the others who were used to it. You could only confirm with an “Okay, Kevin, I will.” before he gets called back to the crowd of responders, disappearing from your view.

Matt is nowhere in sight and your stomach squeezes in anxiousness, you knew he would throw himself into danger if it meant helping others. You were worried for everyone caught up in whatever was going on, but you were particularly fearful for Matt’s safety. You hadn’t realised just how much he already mattered to you until now.

It’s almost a day and a half before you hear from Matt properly again. You had seen on the news about the serious bacteria affecting so many people in the city, about the labs that had suffered damage. You knew Matt, Fifty-One and everyone else would be on the front lines of dealing with whatever was rife in Chicago.

There had been little option other than to hunker down in your apartment and hope for the best. You had received a text from Matt the night before, reassuring you that he was alright. It had gone some way to alleviate your relentless pacing and sighing.

Now your phone buzzes again, and you feel another exhale of relief escape you.

{Matt}: Hey, I think we’re coming out the other side of this thing. The people responsible have been apprehended. I’m sorry our date got ruined, let’s make plans soon if you want? Hope you’re okay, Y/N.

{You}: Hey! Thank you for letting me know you’re alright, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I’m okay, just relieved this might finally be over. I want you to be safe, and I want your friends to be safe too. Of course, I’d love to make plans. Maybe we can call later, to talk about ideas? No rush, whenever’s good for you.

P.S. Didn’t realise the game was a date. But I’m so ready for a new date that has no infections involved, ha!

{Matt}: Well, it was meant to be a pre-date date, ha, didn’t go to plan though. Glad to hear I haven’t totally put you off with the chaos. Would love to call you later. Thank you for being so understanding, my friends all love you. Glad they can see what I see.

{You}: Put me off? After our already hectic start, our underground adventure and now the last few days? I think we’re good, cowboy. I know you’re out there being a brave and generous person, not much to hate about that. I’m so relieved your friends like me, and I really like them. I can see why you all get on so well. Talk to you later, Lieutenant.

You’re not surprised when Matt doesn’t reply to your text, you knew he was still tying up loose ends. You simply potter around your apartment, occasionally re-reading the messages as you start to see the foundations between you and Matt cement themselves. It makes you crave it all the more, so keen to know all of him and keen to share yourself with him in return.

A Date

The sixth time you meet Matt Casey is at a restaurant by the river, it’s an official first date with him.

He’s in a grey button-down and dark jeans, a black jacket and boots, ones that aren’t steel-toed or covered in paint. His hair is neatly styled as always, and there’s a glint in his eyes to match the warm, bright, smile he sends your way as you approach him outside the restaurant.

This time you move confidently in for the hug, squeezing him tight as you relish his warmth and presence, thankful he seemed to be healthy and in good spirits. As you stay in the embrace you feel yourself melt a little, almost happy to stay in it for the rest of the night.

“Hi.” Matt greets, chuckling softly when you reach to kiss his cheek, finding himself reciprocating almost instantly.

“Hi.” You breathe, your own amusement clear on your face. The giddiness was palpable.

“Let’s try this again shall we?” Matt inquires, offering his arm to link with yours.

“Let’s.” You nod, tucking yourself against Matt as you walk the steps to the front door of the restaurant.

Matt drinks beer, and you choose from an array of cocktails. Both of you find a merry buzz as you catch up on each other’s lives from the past few days.

You shared your love of baking with him, regaling him of how you’d started stress-making brownies, cookies and cupcakes when you’d seen the news, now having entirely too much cake for one person. It led to a promise to bring some of your goods to the firehouse for the others.

Matt shares his interest in cooking, you can tell from the way he talks that food had become a way of inspiring camaraderie at the firehouse and at home. His enthusiasm told you of the love language that it was for him, something you made a mental note of.

You also get to hear about his adventures fishing with his Chief and Kelly, making you laugh at the times they’d either caught something totally bizarre or tipped one another overboard.

He tells you of his upcoming construction projects, one of them being a community project that he had started up to help a victim that they’d rescued on a call last month. You wasted no time in offering your services to help, whether that was going on coffee runs, fetching, carrying or painting, you were happy to be there.

The night flies by in a blur of free-flowing conversation, sincerity and intimacy, finding yourselves to be one of the last pairs in the restaurant before closing time.

As you walk hand in hand along the river, you’re drawn to sidle close to your date, enjoying how he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in. Bringing you to sit on a bench facing the river that reflects the twinkling lights of the city.

“It goes without saying that I really enjoyed tonight, Y/N. Thank you for being here.”

You wrap yourself around Matt’s waist, it felt natural to be in his personal space and have him in yours. Resting your head on his shoulder, “You don’t need to thank me, Matt, this was the loveliest first date I’ve ever been on.”

Matt glances at you, a smug smile on his face. “Oh yeah?”

You shrug, already half laughing as you speak, “Absolutely. Would recommend totally recommend on TripAdvisor.”

It gets Matt chuckling, “I’m not sure my date services are for the public.”

You lift your head, looking at him with something akin to being smitten, “Well, that’s their loss, my gain.”

Matt nods, confirming, “Oh, it’s all yours, Y/N. If you want it to be, you’ve got exclusive access.”

“I think I’ll take it.” You sigh happily, putting your head back on his shoulder.

Your stomach flutters when you feel his lips press to the top of your head, “Sold.”

Between the back and forth of playful talk, there’s that telltale moment for anyone about to kiss. The cold of the air shows the warmth of your breaths, both of you inching together on the bench as your thighs press to each other.

Matt glances at your mouth, and you at his. Dipping your heads to meet each other’s lips in a slow, wanting, kiss. Finally allowing this time to be your time together, with no interruptions, no dramas, and no chaos.

As you break away, cupping Matt’s cold cheek with your warm hand, you think about your work key and the first time you’d met the man in front of you. Thanking the loose clasp on your keychain in the past, you move in for another kiss in the present, relishing the times you’d got to meet Matt Casey and hopeful of all the other times ahead.

Fin.

tags: @resanoona @dumb-fawkin-bitch @elius-learns-to-write

252 notes · View notes

elius-learns-to-write · 1 year

Text

YOU ARE AMAZING BESTIE AND SO TALENTED 💛💛

Thinning Of The Veil

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: Horror/supernatural, pre-romance, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of death and injury, horror, anxiety

Word Count: 6662

Summary: The Reader has a gift and it's not a welcome one.

A/N: Part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! This fic fills the "Supernatural Elements" square!

Big thanks to @elius-learns-to-write for checking and providing feedback!

The alarm on your phone sounds at 5.30 am as it does for most of the week, attempting to prod you into consciousness for your morning run. You reach with still closed eyes for your phone, swiping haphazardly until you silence the jovial marimba playing. Your earplugs remain firmly in your ears, laying in bed unmoving and unwilling to stray in either direction on your mattress.

You let out a shaky sigh.

Getting up for your run, breakfast, and work was seldom a chore for you, even in the toughest of times. There was only one day in your calendar when it felt almost impossible to commit to awakening, and that day was today. October 31st. Halloween.

Halloween at one time in your young life had been your favourite holiday. Yet, once you had turned 13 you had been bestowed with an ability you had never fully come to understand or even want.

It made it impossible to enjoy the holiday, and it often resulted in isolation and ridicule. The small mercy of being an adult was that people didn’t question your avoidance of the day and you could do your best to get through without too much scrutiny.

Discovering you could see the dead was not the easiest thing to digest at such a young age, and you couldn’t report it to be any easier now that you were in your late 20s. From passed-over pets to neighbours, to grandparents, to victims on the job, to old tenants in the apartments you’d lived, to people on the street, or literally anywhere you looked, so many spirits lingered.

For every day of the year, it was usually just a general feeling or sense that they were around, but once the clock ticked into October 31st it was as if you’d gone from black and white to technicolour. Death and its repercussions would come swooping into your mind’s eye, making entities visible and audible to you. It hindered your ability to function, often you would either sit in the bathroom with the lights on and music blasting, or you’d drink yourself silly to avoid being aware of anything at all.

Usually, you had the good sense to book yourself out from working Halloween, no matter where in the police department you had been placed. On the beat, at a desk in the Ivory Tower, in with Homicide at your old district or at your current spot with Intelligence at the 21st District, Halloween was always a no-go.

Yet, this year you’d forgotten to book your spot soon enough and missed out on getting the time approved.

It meant you’d have to go through the day acting like everything was alright, and that you weren’t on the brink of a mental breakdown for reasons that would be unexplainable to even the most open and understanding of people in your life.

Your earplugs had done a good job at the stroke of midnight, you were more or less oblivious to the sounds of footsteps, soft crying or muttered rambles that filled your room for hours at a time. You had conditioned yourself to not think about the faint touches of fingers, hair and lips that would encroach on your personal space as you tried to sleep.

The waking hours were when it got tough.

The seconds tick by, and you can hear your heart thudding loudly and purposefully in your ears beneath the pressure of the earplugs, a clammy sweat had broken out across your body, dampening the sheets that touched your skin. Your stomach rolled as though you were in a perpetual loop on a rollercoaster, you could feel nausea in your throat, a nervous tick and an urge to gag.

5.45 am. Your alarm sounds again, this time your hand is shaking as you clutch at your phone, swiping the alarm away once more. This time you can feel the cold hovering over the exposed parts of you out of the covers, your face, arm and hand all vulnerable to the outside of your duvet. They were there, watching and waiting, begging for your attention by just existing.

You swallow. There was no use wasting more time avoiding the inevitable.

With a resigned sigh, you call out to your phone to start playing STFU! by Rina Sawayama, the heavy guitars instantly filling the apartment through your speaker. You were thankful that you didn’t have any immediate neighbours, your apartment was situated on a weird corner of the apartment building you were in, away from the uniformed rows of other dwellings.

As you focused on the lyrics that still rang loudly even through the earplugs, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for pulling off the sleep mask. Your neck hairs were already standing on end, goosebumps prickling continuously like bugs on your skin.

“Come on, Y/N. You can do it.” You mutter to yourself, lifting your cold hands to your mask, slowly pulling it away, eyes still squeezed shut. You gag more forcefully this time, eyes watering as the anxiety tugs at your insides.

“Fuck this day, fuck it.” You growl, yanking off the mask and swinging yourself out of bed in one fell swoop.

You avoid looking at your window, the curtains were open but it was still dark outside. There was still too much darkness in the room, even with the glow of your phone. All the corners in your room were dismissed along with behind your bedroom door as you focused on moving.

Never daring to look up or ahead to the darkness of your lounge, even the mere thought of catching a glimpse of a looming figure or hearing a garbled groan made you want to yelp.

You had a decent wage as a detective, and realistically you could perhaps even afford to keep all the lights on for this one particular day of the year but it still felt like a wasteful practice, so instead, you settled for enduring and avoiding the shadows.

Rina Sawayama’s wonderfully delicate and simultaneously scathing voice floats through your hall as you walk towards the bathroom with the speaker clutched in one hand, the phone in the other, your heart hammering as you avoid looking around.

Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up.

“Sing it, Rina.” You mumble, taking another breath.

Quick nimble steps before you’re slipping into the bathroom, clicking on the light and slamming the door shut. Grateful for the bright white light that fills the relatively small room, you can relax somewhat as it keeps all the shadows at bay, you were safe in the bathroom.

Just as you start letting the water run, you hear a ping from your phone. Picking it up you instantly smile at the name that sits in your notifications.

[Jay]

“Good morning, happy Halloween. 😝🎃 Run? Breakfast?”

The steam starts to build behind you, your spine begins to react to the sense of something lurking in the mist. You couldn’t put your finger on how it all worked, but you were sure that the bizarre things that lurked around you thrived most in the obscurity of water, mist, fog, shadow and darkness.

You quickly type back a reply to Jay, politely ignoring the “Happy Halloween” in favour of enthusiasm about the run and food, setting a meet time of 6.30 am. You relished spending time outside of work with Jay, you both worked perfectly as a partnership and you found yourself wishing more and more that it would extend beyond that. Today more than any other you welcomed the company and distraction.

You turn around, snapping your head towards the shower, dispersing the cloud with your now undressed body, stepping under the hot spray as you force your beating heart and flowing blood to assert itself in the spot where something else had been standing.

Your headphones are working at maximum as you leave your apartment, duffel bag slung over your shoulder with the day’s necessities packed inside. You avert your gaze from Mr Plumb’s old apartment, he had been the nearest neighbour on your floor. You felt bad for not wanting to greet or wave to his ashen figure holding his also deceased dog, but you just didn’t have the stomach for it, not when you knew you had a whole day to go.

Sean, the young delivery guy that had lived at the end of your hall, the one that had been killed in a hit and run, stood behind the new tenant in the doorway as they exited their apartment. You mistakenly turned your head to look at the living person and locked eyes with the entity behind them. Sean’s smile was the same, but the grey lifelessness in his eyes and the shattered cheekbone made your own eyes water with tears, swallowing hard as you offered a weak smile both to the new tenant and to the lost soul.

You walk faster, skipping the elevator to avoid being trapped with Mrs Rush and her parrot, not willing to face her permanently frozen smile and withered skin, partially decomposed from the days she had been left in her armchair before being discovered by her grandson.

From there it was a careful sprint down the flights of stairs to your car, slinging the duffel in the back before getting into the driver’s sight and starting up as quickly as you were able. Struggling to click your seatbelt into place as the ghost of your previous doorman waves repeatedly at you from across the street, his cheerful expression frozen at a disturbing angle on his features.

You ask your phone to play Dr. Feelgood by Mötley Crüe, ramping up the volume once again as you swallow hard, trying to keep your lurching stomach under control. A quick turn in the lot and you were on your way to meet Jay. That’s all you needed, to be beside him and forget everything else.

Trudy, Adam, Kim, Kevin, Hailey and even Hank on occasion had tried to understand what it was about the day that so resolutely disagreed with you. They had even tried to figure out a way for you to enjoy it, but eventually, they understood there was no compromise to be made and they didn’t push the issue any further.

Sometimes you thought about telling Jay the truth, but every time the words got even close to being on your tongue they would melt away and reduce you to stuttered silence. He knew you didn’t like Halloween, but even he didn’t know just how deep that hatred went.

You approached the access point for the Bloomingdale running trail, waving at Jay as you spotted him. He was wrapped up in his sweats and hoodie, a beanie firmly on his head to keep out the early morning chill. You relished the cool sensations on your skin, the numbness it provided was a relief as you kept your attention focused on Jay’s smiling face.

Not letting yourself stare at the young boy that seemed to be wandering back and forth with a gunshot wound and old blood soaked into his shirt. Knowing he wasn’t a real person from the way he would periodically disappear and then reappear from the periphery of your vision.

Jay pulls you into a hug, you give him a squeeze with a small pat on his back, thankful for his warmth and presence. You pull back, smiling at him, “Good to go?” You ask, stretching out your back and your legs, warming up your arms as you roll out your neck. Keen to get moving and to get your nervous energy out into the atmosphere.

He returns the smile, nudging you playfully as he stretches too, “Yeah, all good, let’s hit it.” Jay was well aware that you needed the run this morning, it had been partly why he had made sure to invite you along. The other part was the simple desire to spend time with you, free of work’s burdens and the demands it entailed.

“So, how was your night?” Jay asks, keeping pace with you as you run along the trail, the leaves blowing around you both in flurries of yellow, red and brown, both of your breaths visible in the cold air.

The question sends a jolt through you, you can feel your scalp tingle uncomfortable beneath your own beanie. Taking a second to formulate the right response rather than details of how you made sure to take sleeping pills and had yourself wrapped up beneath layers of comforters, with your head covered to protect you from the outside disturbances.

“Uh, yeah, it was fine, just got an early night, and listened to the Bulls game until I fell asleep. You get to see Will in the end?”

Both of you breathe a little harder as you go up an incline, waiting for Jay’s answer. “Yeah, he managed to get away on time, it was good to see him. Things seem to be getting better for him.”

You smile, glancing at Jay, “Good, I’m glad, he deserves it.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Jay speaks again, “I missed you last night, Will did too. You know you’re always welcome to hang out with us, Y/N. We know this time of year isn’t your favourite, but we wanna be there for you.”

You feel your stomach sink, you wished you could approach it any other way than avoiding everyone in the days leading up to the 31st but given how people had treated you about it previously your instinct was to simply hide. You knew the friends you had now weren’t like that, but those protective behaviours were hard to reprogramme.

“I-... I know, Jay, and I really do appreciate it, it’s just…safer if I stay at home.” You’re turning a bend on the trail, and Jay wants to ask what you mean by ‘safer’, but he’s not sure if you’re ready to answer such questions.

You share a look with him, seeing the concern in his soft green eyes. You didn’t like to make Jay worry, regretting your word choice, but really there was no other way to put it.

Jay goes to reassure you, “It’s okay, you-” But his words are cut off as you let out a sudden yelp, you’re gasping in surprise as you sidestep to avoid a young woman in running gear, she had blood dripping from her head, her hands outstretched to you. You lose your footing as you jump to the side of the path, slipping on wet tarmac into the grass verge, tumbling until you collide with the trees, hitting the ground with a thwack.

Everything is still, only your laboured breaths and a slight groan of pain as your hip protests the collision with a tree trunk. You’re flat on your back, staring up between the jagged crisscross of branches overhead. The birds flutter and chatter and the leaves rustle loudly in your ears. A tear escapes your eye, feeling frustration and embarrassment pressurising in your head.

Your misery is interrupted by Jay’s hurried footsteps coming down the partial hill to get to you, he holds onto branches as he moves, avoiding falling and meeting the same fate as you. Coming to kneel by your side as you turn to look at him, blinking in shock.

“Y/N? Jesus, are you alright?”

You go to open your mouth, but words don’t leave you. You don’t even know what to say or how to explain what the hell just happened. You settle for a stilted nod of “Yes.”

Jay scans you for any obvious signs of injury, there are a few cuts on your cheeks, and a slight bruise beginning to form along your jawline. You’re still breathing hard, the tears that you hoped would stay away trickle silently and slowly over your face.

Spots of rain start to hit your already cold skin, you swallow your sobs down as you try to get up, wincing at the heavy throb of pain in your hip.

“Shit.” You growl, gratefully taking Jay’s hands as helps you to your feet, he’s looking at you in his own shock and confusion, still trying to piece together what triggered such a violent reaction to make you slip and fall.

“What hurts?” Jay asks, keeping steadying hands on you as you stand,

“My goddamn hip took the brunt of it.” You wince, not enjoying the pressure on your hip bone one bit, you could already tell the rest of you would be sore later too.

You finally take the time to look Jay in the eye, sharing a silent conversation that lets the other know that “Yeah, I know, that was weird.”

“Jay, I’m so sorry, I just- I don’t know, I thought I saw… I…” You cough, feeling like you had something stuck in your throat, not knowing where to go with that sentence.

He squeezes your shoulder, “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself right now, okay? Let’s get you back, and make sure we haven’t missed any other injuries, can you walk?”

You test the sturdiness of your feet, still the hip pain smarts and you make a face, sheepishly looking at Jay.

He chuckles empathetically, he knows what it’s like to have to give up control reluctantly, “I got you. Here we go.” He loops your arm around his shoulder as he holds your waist, taking your weight as he helps you start the climb back up the slope, one awkward step at a time, not in the least bit bothered by the damp mud you were transferring to his clothes.

Making it back the way you came from the trail, you finally reach your parked cars. Jay’s hold on you is just as secure as it was when he first started walking with you, looking at you with gentle concern. “You okay to drive? Otherwise, I can bring one of the others back here later and we can pick up your car.”

You had gotten this far with accepting his help and reassurance, and if you were being honest if you set aside the aches and pains you now had, you couldn’t face having to drive alone with the prospect of seeing apparitions hanging over you like a dark, weighted, cloud.

“Is it okay if I come with you?” You ask, feeling your heart flutter, keenly aware of the warmth his body against yours was emitting.

“Of course it is, Y/N. Let’s get your stuff from your car, we can get you back to the district for a shower and I can order us some breakfast to the 21st.”

You nod, voice quieter, thankful smile gracing your lips, “Thanks, Jay.”

Jay returns the smile, opens his truck and helps you into the passenger side, making sure you’re properly seated and in before shutting the door. Taking your keys to fetch your duffel, your work jacket and your badge from your car.

It’s only a few minutes of sitting alone in Jay’s truck but you begin to shiver, the loss of adrenaline and the memory of what you’d seen had begun to settle in your bones, your muscles tensing with each pressing thought.

You felt bad for getting your partner’s truck dirty, leaning your head against the window in exasperation. Your shift hadn’t even started yet and you’d already freaked out in front of Jay. How were you going to make it through the day and not embarrass yourself in front of everyone else too?

“You cold?” Jay’s voice startles you out of your reverie, you hadn’t even noticed his return with your things already sat on his backseat. You turn your head to look at him, eyes wide, “Uh, yeah, a little.”

He nods, immediately putting on the heat, and directing the blowers to cover you in gentle currents of warm air.

“You sure we don’t need to go to Med?” He probes, still worried about you, you were behaving oddly, to say the least. Even if he factored in that it was Halloween and you’d taken a swan dive into the mud and trees.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his arm. “Jay, you’ve done more than enough, and I’m gonna be fine, let’s just get to work and get this muck off. I’m gonna pay for your car to be cleaned.” Your voice is stronger now, the warmth settling your nerves, Jay’s presence doing a lot to ground you back to reality.

He scoffs, “As if I’d make you pay for that.”

“Fight me.” You retort, feeling mischievous now.

“Ah, see, now that’s my Y/N,” Jay remarks, smiling as he pulls the truck out of the lot, heading further into the city.

That’s my Y/N. If anything was going to pick you out of your slump today, it was going to be those words.

And a breakfast bagel with a considerable amount of iced coffee.

Hank’s the first one in after you and Jay, your sergeant offers to head back out with your partner to get your car and do the breakfast run, for which you were supremely thankful.

That left you to take another hot shower and ease the aches across your muscles. You let the shampoo lather away the dirt in your hair, scrubbing carefully at your cuts and bruises, washing off all remnants of this morning.

Your eyes close, simply relishing the heat for a moment, trying to not think about anything at all.

That is until the door to the locker room opens.

It hits the wall with a considerable thud.

There’s silence.

“Hailey?... Kim?” You call out, you had put the privacy sign on the door, so you knew none of the guys would come in.

Nothing.

“Trudy?” You ask, a last desperate attempt to be reassured by it being someone you knew. Quickly you exchange shampoo for conditioner as you try to hurry the process, so you could get dressed and be out in the light of the bullpen.

The sinking feeling, the one you had only just washed away, claws back inside your stomach, fighting back into your throat where you gag once more. Your body seemed to react instinctively and involuntarily.

A shadow looms beyond the doorway to the shower room, you can make out the outline of a humanoid shape but nothing else.

“I’m not in the mood.” You call out angrily, whether the thing outside was living or dead, it was going to know it had pissed you off.

Then you hear it.

The clack, clack, clack, of slow rhythmic tapping against the metal of the lockers, repeating it over and over as if taunting you.

Then, it stops. Only the static of the water running fills the room. The lights beyond the shower room seem to have dimmed, slowly encroaching on you and your vulnerability in the tiled cubicle.

You’re shaking, not from the cold now. Feeling trapped and with no option but to confront whatever was waiting out there.

You turn off the water, standing still as you listen for signs of something, anything.

Water drips. The sounds of the district and its bustling activity rumble below your feet. Sounds of faraway traffic, of chatter, of life. It’s so far from you.

Water keeps dripping. Your skin prickles with goosebumps for the umpteenth time today.

There’s a whoosh of air before what feels like icy spiders skitters up your back, causing you to whirl around. Jumping back and out of the shower with your own cry of anguish as a looming apparition of a woman screams in your face, “THEY SHOULD HAVE LET ME GO!”

You scramble to your feet, backing up against the lockers as you snatch your phone off the bench and activate the torch, filling the dull yellow glow of the room with brighter and whiter light, scanning the room frantically only to see it empty once again.

“Fuck!” You hiss, slamming your palm against a locker in anger. Breathing hard, trembling and naked in the mocking stillness of the room.

The sooner this day could be over the better.

[In Jay’s Truck]

“She okay?” Hank asks, watching the city pass as Jay drives.

Jay sighs, pondering that question thoroughly as he thinks of how scared and scattered you seemed this morning. “She’s… yeah, I don’t know, Sarge. You know how it is for her this time of year. It just…seems more intense today. Something scared her out on the run, ended up barrelling down the grass bank into a tree. I’m gonna give her some breathing room, and then maybe she’ll open up a little more later. I’ve got it handled, I won’t let anything happen. If we need you, I’ll loop you in.”

Hank hums in acknowledgement, he trusted Jay completely and he knew the rest of the unit would look out for you too.

[Back at the 21st]

Adam, Kim, Hailey and Kevin all arrive more or less at the same time, with Jay and Hank only a few minutes after that, your car is now in the lot and breakfast for everyone is in hand.

Adam’s the first to spot the bruising and scratches on your face as you remain engrossed in the case file on your screen.

“Hey, what happened there?” He asks, half sitting on the side of your desk, looking in concern.

His presence snaps you back to reality, realising the bullpen was actually filled with the chatter of real people, rather than the lingering murmurs of things that couldn’t be seen.

“Had a fight with a tree, almost lost.” You quip, finally looking at Adam properly, smiling weakly. Adam could see how tired you looked, about to make a comment about “Looking like you’ve seen a ghost”, but he didn’t want to pry. Given what today was and how badly you hated it, he didn’t think the comment would be well-received.

He taps his knuckles on the wood of your desk, looking at you fondly, “If you need anything, you let us know alright?” You cherished the protectiveness of all of your friends and colleagues, it did genuinely make you feel somewhat safer.

You offer a grateful look, patting the top of his hand, “Thanks, Ruze. Appreciate it.”

He looked like he was going to say something else but then Jay placed your breakfast and coffee on the table and the moment to talk passed. Adam leaves you to it, plucking his own food out of the bag and moving off to find Hank to discuss something about the latest case.

Kim, Hailey and Kevin say their good mornings to you too, and it at least feels good to have the whole gang together.

You smile up at Jay, especially relieved to have him close again. You weren’t going to tell anyone about the incident in the bathroom, but it had thoroughly shaken you up, to the point where you had to go and sit with Trudy for a little bit before braving coming back up.

“All good?” He asks, bringing his desk chair over to you so he could sit and eat beside you.

“All good.” You exhale, taking a bite of your bagel as you focus on Jay’s proximity, your knees ever so slightly touching. Paying no mind to the patrol cop pacing the bullpen with what looked to be a machete lodged in his chest.

Much of your day passes without further incident, apart from the usual sights and sounds, you run into no more significant trouble. The throb in your hip was now a dull ache and everyone seemed to be in a good mood, which improved your own demeanour.

However, the real crescendo to the godforsaken 31st of October comes at the dying embers of your shift. The case had hit a breakthrough and the whole team had suited up for a raid on your suspect’s secondary home. It was reported to be the real location of the trafficking activity you were investigating, with any luck by the end of the night you’d have the right person and their facilitators in custody.

Hailey and Adam had taken the basement, Hank and Kim were taking the perimeter, and Kevin was not far behind you and Jay on the second floor. You had gone left, whilst the two guys had gone right and straight ahead.

You hear the others calling out as they clear their sections, you clear a bathroom and move on to the next room. It’s a bedroom to the back of the property, sparse with scraped wooden floorboards and a musty scent. There’s a cracked window with papers scattered beneath the window sill, all of this you can see before you even enter the room fully.

As you step inside, the weight of your boots making the floor creak beneath your feet, you feel the overwhelming urge to vomit all over the floor, the air is freezing in the room and you instantly know something is very wrong.

Coughing and gagging you push past the sensation, eyes immediately watering as they fight both the urge to heave and the urge to cry, stepping further into the room with your gun trained ahead and your flashlight illuminating the dark, decaying, space. The walls are yellowed and stained, dripping with condensation.

Your neck tenses beneath the CPD gaiter you’re wearing, and you scan the room, finally landing on the opposite side of the one you started at.

A gasp catches in your throat, mixed with a strangled scream at the sight before you. 5 young girls turn to look at you, each of them branded with strangulation bruises in the shape of hand prints, their noses dripping with blood and eyes bulging. Each of the weary bodies were barely clothed, and they were walking at awkward angles towards you, their mouths agape in a silent cry for help.

Frozen to the spot you can feel yourself shaking, trembling breaths puffing into the cold air, and your nose is numb to the touch in the chill of the room. Your tears sting in the cuts on your face.

Before you can even think about moving, the girls lift their arms in a sharp motion, pointing upward at the cracked and rotting ceiling. There’s a dark hole in the centre, a void that disappears into the loft space.

As you look back from the ceiling to the girls it twigs what the motion means. Your heart sinks fast and hard.

If you hadn’t misinterpreted, they were up there in the loft, right this second. They weren’t just some entities you’d run into, they were part of your case. Victims, with real bodies still, left up there and decaying.

Your flashlight drops with a clatter to the floor, turning sharply on your heels towards the door, scrambling in the dark to find Jay or Kevin or anybody that was a familiar face, needing to get into the attic as fast as possible.

In your haste to get out, you don’t see Kevin coming towards you, slamming right into the solid wall of his chest and securing arms that steady you.

“Woah, woah, Y/N, what’s happening? You good?” He asks, one arm on you, the other pointing his gun in the direction you’d come from, worried an assailant was in the house still.

“K-Kev, the attic.” You choke, “We gotta get in there, now Kev, right now.”

Kevin lowers his gun, not quite understanding your urgency as it was already in the plans to search the attic. “It’s all good, Y/N, Jay’s already pulling down the ladder to take a look, I was coming to get you. Are you okay?”

You nod frantically, releasing yourself from Kev’s hold as you make a beeline towards the other side of the landing, following Jay’s disappearing legs up into the loft space, leaving Kevin to stand guard and radio the others, still reeling in the confusion at your behaviour.

At the sound of your hurried clambering, Jay shines his flashlight briefly in your direction. His face is morose, saddened at his discovery not moments ago, already having requested the crime lab.

Jay takes a breath, beginning to report his findings to you, “Hey, uh, so we’ve got bodies-”

But the words leave your mouth before you can calculate the rationale of revealing something you shouldn’t know yet, finishing Jay’s sentence for him. “5 females, early 20s, suspected death by strangulation, they’ve been here for at least a day.”

Jay stands away from the row of girls beneath the white sheets, his face plastered with confusion. Their uncovered faces are staring permanently upwards, their eyes frozen in shock and fear.

He looks back at them and then at you again, stepping closer to you he keeps the flashlight downwards so as not to hurt your eyes, but in a way that he can fully see you. Your hand is clamped over your mouth, your sobs barely concealed as your whole body shudders with emotion.

Your partner gets a terrible sinking feeling as he comes to stand in front of you, mind whirring as he replays what you just said over and over. How could you have possibly known that?

Someone else might be suspicious of your knowledge, but Jay knew better, Jay knew you. He was starting to put the pieces together, pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was completing until this very moment.

One could be forgiven for maybe thinking it was a psychiatric issue, but it wasn’t a year-round thing, and you had regular appointments with your therapist, Jay knew that much.

Every year of Halloween with you flashes by in seconds, right through everything odd that had happened today. Your skittishness, the scared look that seemed to always be simmering beneath the surface, the distractedness, the weird thing that had happened on the running trail, the fact that Trudy mentioned you seemed reluctant to stay in the bullpen alone, the way you’d talk to Jay but sometimes be unable to not look past him, as though you were seeing something else all the time. It all seemed so outlandish, yet he found himself still stuck at the same conclusion.

A conclusion he couldn’t speak out loud until he took care of your distressed form. Tentatively reaching out to bring you into a secure embrace, wordlessly holding you as you cry openly into his shoulder, whispering gently to you.

“I got you, Y/N, it’s alright. I’m not letting go, just stay with me.” His heart twists as he feels you cling to him for dear life, brokenly calling out his name.

Jay helps you down the ladder, passing you off to Kevin as he makes his own way down the steps. Almost instantaneously gathering you back into his arms as he quickly and quietly asks Kev to take over and stay with the crime lab, to radio Voight and tell him there was a situation.

Kevin squeezes your shoulder, “Hang in there, Y/N, it’s gonna be alright. We got you.” Feeling helpless watching a friend who so often kept themselves level-headed appear so distressed.

Carefully Jay guides you down the stairs, shielding you from the confused and worried looks from colleagues on the scene. The rest of the team are located at various points of the scene, giving Jay a concerned look as they watch you being ushered towards where the vehicles were staged.

Voight is the last one to see you, resting a comforting hand on your back as he talks with Jay. You lift your head, eyes red and raw from crying, still shivering as you try and explain yourself to your sergeant, feeling stupid when the words don’t come out in any coherent order.

Hank’s face falls into a worried frown, eyes softening in that fatherly manner they were sometimes prone to, “Don’t you worry about a thing, Y/N, we got it. Jay’s gonna take you home.” He nods, signalling for Jay to take you away and help you calm down.

As you come to a stop by Jay’s truck, he helps you settle into the passenger seat. Moving in so only you can hear what he’s saying, “Y/N, I think…I think I know what you’ve been going through, what you’ve been seeing... I just want you to know that I believe you, and I’m gonna listen to everything you have to say, okay?”

You blink at him in a daze, not sure you heard him right. You nod with another tremble in your lips, whispering a hoarse, “Thank you”, your eyes burn with exhaustion, your head throbbing uncomfortably as you let it fall back against the headrest.

“I’m…I don’t know what you need, so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask. Would it help if I, um, turned up the music and maybe you could be blindfolded?” Jay hopes he’s guessed correctly, otherwise the latter question would sound completely deranged to you.

Your eyes open in surprise, and your stomach flips as you realise Jay did believe you, he truly had started to put together what was happening to you. You nod, sniffing away more tears, tears of relief and sincere gratitude towards your partner.

Jay smiles softly, “Okay, I can do that. Here we go.” He murmurs, keeping his voice calm and gentle, not wanting to rattle you further.

He takes his scarf from around his neck, tentatively wrapping it around your eyes and securing it at the back of your head.

“Not too tight?” He asks, taking your hand to squeeze it reassuringly.

You shake your head, whispering “No, thank you, Jay.”

“Alright, that’s good. I’m gonna get in, and then we’ll put on some loud country music or something, drown them all out.”

You laugh between sniffs, trying to rid yourself of the crying snottiness. “Sounds good.”

Jay takes you back to his place. You knew you wouldn’t be free of entities there, but you figured that getting away from the oppressiveness of the ones in your apartment building would at least be refreshing. Thanking your lucky stars that you had someone as kind and as patient as Jay, relishing in the fact that you only had an hour until midnight, an hour until November was there.

You keep the scarf on all the way to Jay’s apartment, listening only to the low and sweet encouragement Jay gives you with every step, guiding you in the right direction. His hands remain on you at all times, protecting you from any unwanted and unseen contact until you’re finally at his door.

He saves his questions until one minute past midnight, using the final hour to play a collection of classic rock and metal, cradling you to his chest as he rocks you slowly, in his arms, keeping your eyes covered until you notify him that you could feel the shift, the sensation that all that noise and suffering had disappeared into the background radiation it was the rest of the year round.

Slowly you pull away, tugging off the scarf around your head as you look into Jay’s eyes, your heart squeezing as you feel just how in love you were, how in love you had always been. Tonight had simply compounded that knowledge.

His hand reaches out tentatively, thumb gently caressing along your cheek, he smiles at you and you smile back, feeling the happiest you had in the past 24 hours. You stay there for a moment, taking his other hand in yours as you nuzzle your cheek against his palm.

You exhale, composing yourself for the conversation you were about to have, feeling so trusting of the sincere and kind face that looked back at you. Jay Halstead was about to be the first and only person to hear you say these words.

“So, uh…where to start… I- I started seeing ghosts when I was 13.”

Fin.

tags: @resanoona @elius-learns-to-write @enchantedblackrose @dumb-fawkin-bitch

143 notes · View notes