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onechicagolife · 1 month

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ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ | ᴊᴀʏ ʜᴀʟꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ

Detective Jay Halstead is a senior member of the Intelligence Unit, where he is partnered with Detective Hailey Upton after his former partner and girlfriend transferred to the FBI and moved to New York. Still adjusting to the loss of his former flame, all the while dealing with emotional scars from his time in the Rangers, his world is once again turned upside down when a case brings up an odd connection to a woman from his past. want to be tagged? link in bio <3

Chapter Nineteen

Right now, Mia is faced with the reality that this is only going to end one way.

“Why?” Daniel screams as he looms over her with a look in his eyes that she’s never seen in another person. “Why would you do that?”

“Why would I?” she seethes, fed up with the nice act she’s been giving. She is done being nice, and she won’t go down easy. “Why would you! Why are you doing this?”

He shakes his head with a bewildered laugh, pacing back and forth. Daniel’s hands gesture wildly towards nothing in particular, “You think this has been easy for me? Not being able to have you? Having to watch you from afar, spending time with people who don’t give a fuck about you? Watching you parade around with those-those pathetic men? With that stupid detective like a fucking whore?”

She grits her teeth, fighting the urge to defend herself and her actions. “So, you killed people?”

“I already told you, I did it for you!” his eyes bug out of his head, the veins in his forehead pulsating with anger. The sickest part is that he believes what he’s saying. He truly believes that he did nothing wrong, that he was protecting her.

She pushes herself off the floor, biting back a wince at the pain that shoots through her forearms from the fall. “No, Sam, you did it for you,” Mia challenges, “You did what you did because you wanted to.”

Daniel frantically shakes his head, taking a slight step back as she rises to her feet, “Shut up.”

“I rejected you,” she presses on with a step towards him, “You saw something you couldn’t have so you decided to take it. You think that I could ever be with someone like you? That I could ever love someone like you? You’re a rapist and a murderer.”

“Shut up!” he shouts and in the next second, he pulls the gun from his waistband.

Breath hitching slightly at the gun pointed at her, Mia swallows her fear, “If you can’t have me, no one can?” She takes another step, closing the distance between herself and the weapon before arching a brow, “Come on, Sam, at least be original.”

They lock eyes, but she refuses to back down. “Do it,” she dares. She doesn’t stop until the cool metal is pressed against her forehead. If he is going to kill her, she is going to make him look her in the eye. The gun starts shaking in his hand, the sound of his quick breaths filling the small cabin. “Pull the trigger, Sam. Show me who you really are.”

His bottom lip quivers as tears pool in his eyes, and she can see the reluctance in his stare. They both know that he’s killed before, but it was different. He didn’t know those women; he didn’t care about them – as much as someone like him could care about anyone. She knows that when he looks at her, he doesn’t feel real love. Instead, he sees his mother. He sees someone that should’ve protected him. Someone that he wants to save.

Mia’s voice is quiet but unwavering when she speaks, “You’re nothing but a coward.”

Tears finally fall, streaking down his cheeks. His finger hovers over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He hesitates. She sees the opportunity, and she takes it. As quickly as she can, she wraps both hands around the gun, forcing it out of her face. They struggle as she thrusts it towards the ceiling and the gun goes off, shooting several bullets into the ceiling. She uses all her strength to keep it from aiming at her, struggling to get it out of his grasp. Somehow, Mia manages to loosen his grip, not enough to take control of the weapon herself but enough to send it flying across the room.

Enraged, Daniel tries to wrap his arms around her when she turns away, but she whips her elbow back into his face. A sickening crack echoes off the walls as he yelps in pain, hands flying to his probably broken nose. Whipping her head around, her eyes search the room for the gun before spotting it a few yards away. She only makes it half a step before strong hands dig into the tops of her arms. He circles one arm around her waist to haul her against him. She screams as she struggles in his grip, nails scratching into the skin of his forearms. Mia kicks her legs in front of her, forcing a shift in weight that makes him lose balance. She twists from his grasp, but it backfires as she spins in the wrong direction. Daniel grabs her by the arms again. He pushes her back a few steps, lifting her again before slamming her down into the coffee table. Mia doesn’t have time to fight it or try to break her fall before her back crashes through the table, glass scattering across the wooden floor. The impact knocks the wind out of her, pain reverberating throughout her entire body as glass shards dig into her. She opens her eyes slowly, bringing a hand up to the pulsing ache on her forehead. When she moves her hand away, her blurry eyes see the sticky red liquid coating her fingers. Blinking desperately, her vision clears enough to see Daniel standing over her – two of him, but only for a second. His chest is heaving and her gaze trails down to his hands, swallowing hard as he flexes his fingers before curling them into fists.

“I didn’t want to do this, Mia,” he grits out, an urgent pleading in his voice, “I just wanted to make you happy. But you couldn’t let me, huh? You’re determined to be miserable.” He takes a menacing step closer, “Just know that you’re the one who made me do this.”

She knows what’s about to happen. He is going to strangle her like he did to those women. To Alana, Megan, Jill, and Lindsey. To Kyla. It can’t end like this.

Mustering up all the strength she can manage, all the anger for those women, for herself… Mia kicks out her leg into his groin as hard as she can, making him groan and fall to his knees. She rolls over, ignoring the pain as she crawls through the shattered glass and pieces of broken wood towards the gun. The tips of her fingers brush across the handle when a hand wraps around her ankle. She screams as Daniel drags her backwards, nails clawing into the floor for any sort of traction. Whipping her head over her shoulder, she uses her other leg to kick him in the face. His grip loosens when the bottom of her foot collides with his already injured nose, enough for her to regain the distance she lost. She barely manages to get to the gun, but she grabs it. Her fingers close around the handle, and she flips onto her back, holding the gun towards her attacker with both hands and pulling the trigger.

Frustrated, Jay slams the door of his truck before placing both hands on the roof, leaning against it. He hangs his head and closes his eyes, but he quickly opens them again at the flash of horrific scenes of what could be happening to Mia. They have finally made it to the edge of the woods surrounding Newton Lake, but that is where the trail ends. Reid has a solid few hours on them, and they have no idea which direction to go in. They don’t even know if they’re in the right place.

After giving her partner a few moments to himself, Hailey climbs out of the passenger side and walks around the hood. “I just talked to Wisconsin State Patrol and their Air Support Unit is sending a chopper. They don’t really know what they’re supposed to be looking for, but it can’t hurt to have an eye in the sky,” she pauses, “They’ll have a med evac on standby.”

Jay inhales a shaky breath at the thought of her being hurt, but he knows that they need to account for worst case scenarios. He feels so helpless, knowing that she’s out there and he can’t get to her. The one thing he should be able to do – save people – and he is grappling with the likelihood that he won’t be able to save her. His spiraling is interrupted as the rest of the team pulls up followed by several state patrol cars, including the canine unit.

“Hey,” Kim calls as she hops out of one of the cars, “I think I’ve got something.” She waits a moment for everyone to gather around, “Call it a hunch, but I asked Platt to look deeper into anyone from Reid’s past as Samuel Jennings. He went to his foster brother for help, so I figured it was worth a shot. His biological mother was named Arianna Jennings. After she paroled, it didn’t take long for her to fall back into her old ways. She got back into drugs, ended up marrying her dealer, and changed her name to Arianna Whelan. She died of a fentanyl overdose a little over a year ago, and her husband, Kenny Whelan? Never seen again.”

Impatient, Jay interrupts, “Kim, get to the point.”

She holds his gaze for a second, biting back a sassy retort because she knows what he’s going through right now. “Two months ago,” Kim arches a brow, “Kenny Whelan resurfaced and bought property in Wisconsin, with cash. Platt spoke to the real estate agent and the description matched Reid to a T. We got an address.”

A blood-curdling yell escapes past his lips and Daniel falls back to the floor, a hand flying up to press against the fresh bullet wound to his shoulder. He stares at her with wide eyes, “You shot me!”

“Shut the hell up or I’ll do it again,” Mia retorts, keeping the gun aimed at him as best she can as she struggles to her feet. He continues to groan and cry in pain, trying to put pressure on the wound and stop the bleeding. She rolls her eyes at how pathetic he is, “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. It’s through and through, minimal blood loss.” At the incredulous look he sends her way, she can’t help but smirk, “Lucky for you I had a boyfriend that was a damn good shot and a pretty decent teacher.”

He is clearly angered by the mention of who is obviously Jay, glaring daggers up at her. He feels weak at the shift in power and control but does his best not to show it. “Why? Why not just finish the job?”

“Because I’m not you,” her voice shakes as her grip tightens around the gun, “and you don’t deserve to get off that easy. You deserve to spend the rest of your life in a four-by-four cell. You deserve to spend every day of your life thinking about the ones you took. And for what?” She blinks back tears and narrows her eyes mockingly, “Because your mommy didn’t love you?” The comment clearly strikes a chord, pissing him off even more. Mia thinks over what her next move will be. She knows there’s a car that she could take to find help, but she can’t just leave him here and doubts she’ll be able to maintain control enough to get him to come with. He must have a phone – no one that technologically savvy can manage without some sort of device for long. A sudden loud noise from outside steals both of their attention, and it only takes a second before she recognizes the thrumming sound of a helicopter.

While she is distracted, Daniel sticks out a leg to trip her, pouncing as soon as she falls to the ground and wrestling the gun from her hands, sending another bullet into a wall, emptying the clip. She struggles against him, but his strength still overpowers the adrenaline coursing through her veins. After a few moments of fighting, he manages to wrap a hand around her throat and squeeze. The action catches her off guard and allows his other hand to join. She claws at his forearms and thrashes her legs, trying to gather enough force to flip them but his weight pins her down. His grip tightens, compressing her airway in the same way he did to the five other women he murdered. He never wanted it to be her neck beneath his fingers, but she just won’t stop.

Spots dance in front of her eyes as she battles to take in a breath, the fight quickly leaving her tired body. Crimson manages to catch her blurred gaze and in a last-ditch effort, Mia lifts an arm that feels impossibly heavy, digging her thumb into the bullet hole. He screams and loosens his hold enough for her to push him off with a gasping breath. She allows herself a second to regain her bearings before rolling onto all fours. Using the door as leverage, she gets to her feet. Wrapping her fingers around the knob, she twists but the door won’t budge. The lack of oxygen lingers, and she can’t think straight, hearing Daniel shuffling behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, he has managed to stand and starts towards her. Mia scans for something close and sees a coat stand within reach, so she grabs one of the umbrellas resting at the base. Turning, she juts the umbrella in his direction and against the wound. He rips it from her hand but still recoils in pain, buying her enough time to unlock the deadbolt and whip the door open. She runs.

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#jay halstead #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #story: always #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed

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onechicagolife · 3 months

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Hi! I’m new to Tumblr and am a big Jay Halstead fan! 🥰

Was wondering if you could write a Jay/female reader fic!

Reader has almost lost Jay once (while he was on deployment) and then on a case (one where Jay was kidnapped/beaten) and she is/was so worried about him and losing him- happy/cute/fluff ending 🤍

hi babe! welcome to the craziness 🥰

unfortunately i’m not actively working on requests right now.

hopefully i’ll find the time and energy to get back into it but until then, there’s definitely some worried!reader fics somewhere in my masterlist 💙

#answered #sorry hun!!

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onechicagolife · 3 months

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ᴀʙꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴀ | ᴊᴀʏ ʜᴀʟꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ

Detective Jay Halstead is a senior member of the Intelligence Unit, where he is partnered with Detective Hailey Upton after his former partner went missing undercover. While he never wanted to give up hope, the CPD assumed her dead and he was resigned to accept it. Now, two years later, Jay gets a sudden phone call with news that changes his life forever. Avery Clarke is alive. want to be tagged? link in bio <3

Chapter Nine

"Are we helping out on a case?" Avery directs the question to her boss, uncertainty only growing when he folds his arms over his chest and silently looks at Lang.

"Sort of," Agent Lang starts slowly, eyeing her skeptically before noting the impatient quirk of her brow. He clears his throat, "Actually, I'm here about your case. I want to talk about the last two years."

Her heart skips a beat in her chest, and she swallows, "What about it? Are you on the Volkov case?" It's been weeks since her return and they officially lost the case again, not even being told which agency had it. Every single time she or Hank have reached out for an update, they've been stonewalled. She's tired of being frozen out, but if the case is being handled by the DEA instead of the FBI, maybe her connections can finally get them somewhere.

"I'm part of the DEA task force," Lang carefully pauses. He knows her well enough to prepare himself for the temper she occasionally exhibits. "And so were you."

A sharp inhale cuts through the thick silence that follows, Avery blinking with furrowed brows as she attempts to process the admission. How in the hell was she part of a federal task force when it wasn't even a federal case two years ago? Hank can sense the shock and confusion coming from the detective, so he steps in, setting aside his own shock, "What do you mean, she was part of the task force?"

"You weren't missing," the agents starts, "You were undercover, for us." Unable to believe the words coming from the man's mouth, Avery turns on her heels and begins to pace in the small space, dragging her fingers through her hair. She closes her eyes and tugs harder at the tangled strands, as if the pain might magically cause the memories to resurface. At her lack of response, Lang continues with what he knows, "After your cover was blown, they held you for interrogation. They tortured you for weeks. Beatings, electric shock, sensory deprivation. But you never broke. Actually, you convinced them that you were who you said you were — Talia — and that you and a few others were planning on betraying the Aleksovs. The wire was so that you could use the information for yourself.

"They believed you. I still don't understand how you did it, but you gained their trust and struck a deal. In exchange for your life, you'd give them everything they needed to take control of the Aleksovs' operations. After almost three months, you got them to trust you enough to let you go on the promise that you'd work for them. By this time, the FBI had taken the case from Major Crimes, and we were planning on officially making a task force. They had an undercover, very low level but had his ear to the ground. Once Nikolai Volkov successfully used your information to dismantle the Aleksovs, there was talk about a "beautiful woman" that got caught with a wire but was able to charm Nikolai with her business savvy and flexible loyalty. We started to suspect it could be you."

Having heard enough, Avery finally interrupts, shaking her head in disbelief over what she is hearing, "No. This doesn't make any sense. If I somehow 'charmed' them enough to let me go, why didn't I contact CPD as soon as possible? Why didn't I call Hank?" She glances to the older man as his name falls past her lips, desperately searching for any kind of answer in his eyes. But she only finds that he is just as unsure as she is.

Lang folds his arms across his chest, "We had agents waiting at the locations we knew about to intercept you at first chance. That's when you and I connected for the first time. I gave you my pitch: no one has ever gotten as deep within the Volkov organization as you had the chance to, Avery. And if you left then, they'd think you were betraying them. They'd come after you and they wouldn't stop. So, you agreed to go back in as part of our federal investigation long enough to help our undercover agent rise higher up in the ranks. You'd have to stay 'missing' for just a couple months, so that you could get out without raising suspicions and set us up to take them down. Do you remember Special Agent Anderoff – Jim – from the task force a few years back? He became your main contact. After a few weeks, you found evidence of something bigger. Turns out, the Volkovs have been trafficking in more than just guns and drugs."

"Women," Voight realizes gruffly, and her blood runs cold.

Lang nods, "And girls. Some as young as twelve, and we had no idea. You couldn't walk away."

A warehouse full of cages flashes behind her eyes before being replaced by the cold, battered body of Nadia. The image of her teenage self, high out of her mind and pressed down against a dirty couch.

"We thought that by taking the case from the CPD, it would stop the investigation into your disappearance. And it did, for a while. But Detective Halstead never fully stopped looking into things, and one lead he was following started to get close to you. If we hadn't planted faulty intel, he'd have ended up getting himself or you killed." She exhales a breath, facing Lang and meeting his eyes for the first time in minutes. "Avery, it was your idea to fake your death. You knew that Halstead would never stop looking for you so long as there was some shred of hope that you were still alive. We planted some seeds about a woman matching your description having been killed, and after a little bit of pressure on the deputy superintendent, they had you declared dead."

No. "You're saying..." There was no way. "You're saying that I chose this?" Her voice shakes as she forces the words out, a painful sting starting to build in the pit of her stomach. There was no way she would let her friends and family think that she was dead... Would she? To protect them, to protect Jay?

Avery blinks back the tears that begin to well in her eyes, deciding that right now, something she can focus on – something she can control – is anger. "Why now?" she grits out, taking a step towards Lang as her volume continues to rise, "Why come to me now, when you've known what happened to me this whole time?"

"I wanted to," he tries to assure, "As soon as we found out what happened, I wanted to. The decision was made way above my paygrade. When the agency heard about your memory loss, they decided it was better to keep you in the dark. Your cover was likely blown but you... well, they thought you would want to go back in to finish what you started. I finally managed to convince them to let me come see you today." Lang shuffles around a few things in his bag before pulling out a manila file folder. He extends it towards her, "You're not an agent, so this is as much information that I could get them to hand over."

Avery eyes the much-too-thin folder with a scoff, "What, I don't have clearance to read about my own life?"

When she stubbornly refuses to take it from his outstretched hand, Lang sighs and sets it on the edge of Voight's desk instead, "I'm sorry." With no response other than a stiff nod from Voight, Lang offers another apology before leaving the office.

A soft thud echoes as the door closes behind him and Avery brings her palms up to press into her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling and stifle the burgeoning headache. "This can't be real," she mutters as she shakes her head.

Hank picks up the folder before flipping through the pages, eyes skimming over its contents. "There's photos," he confirms, "It's your signature on these reports."

She doesn't believe him. Avery snatches the file from his hands but can't bring herself to look at it herself. She can't believe him. There's ringing in her ears and pounding behind her eyes, and the air is suddenly so thick that she struggles to take in a complete breath. Spinning on her heels, she wretches the door open and storms into the bullpen, immediately feeling the weight of seven pairs of eyes. One pair in particular burns at her skin, and she fights the urge to meet them. Stepping quickly to her desk, she rips her jacket from the back of the chair.

Hank calls out her name from the doorway of his office to no avail. "Detective Clarke," he says firmly, raising his voice in a way that causes her to halt in her tracks halfway across the room. "Just take a breath, we'll figure this out."

Clenching her jaw tightly to fight the sob clawing at the back of her throat, Avery glances over her shoulder at the older man, "We? There is no 'we,' Hank. Apparently, I made sure of that." With that, Voight watches without objection as she rushes down the staircase. He doesn't know what he could possibly say to stop her from leaving, to stop her from spiraling, when he is just as lost for words. As he turns to head back into his office, he spots Ruzek stand from his desk out of the corner of his eye. "Don't," he orders, and Adam halts his stride, "Let her go."

This cannot be real. This cannot be real. This cannot be real.

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting here, alone in her car. The sun has already traveled across every window, shining through the glass and bouncing off the pages now sitting beside her. Avery stares straight ahead, but her eyes blur everything out. Reading the words on those pages — her words — was supposed to give her some answers. Answers other than what she was told: that she chose to let everyone she loves think that she was dead.

But they were her words, and the proof that she was undercover for the DEA was right there in black and white. And she knows that vowing to put an end to a sex trafficking ring is something she would do. After what happened to Nadia, she would never let anything like that happen to another girl if she could help it. The last two years started with torture and pain before being spent gathering intel, arranging deals, and sabotaging whatever she could. The information has allowed her to construct images in her head, rebuilding the memories she lost, but there are still gaps between the reports she was given. She can feel it in her gut that there is something missing, something important. Something that she needs to remember.

She has lost everything. She lost two years of her life, two people she considered family died without her being there. She can understand staying undercover, sacrificing her normal job and life. But if she made the choice to fake her death, that means she chose to sacrifice the man she loves. That means that everything that's changed, the way things are now, is her fault.

The sound of a car horn pulls Avery back to reality, and she blinks away the tears clouding her vision. She hadn't even realized that she was crying as she wipes her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Taking in her surroundings, her eyes land on the bar across the street from where she's parked in front of her new building. After staying with Hank since her return, she decided it was time to get back to normal by looking for her own apartment. She has still been at the home she grew up in, though, until she gets actual furniture besides the mattress still in the plastic resting on the floor.

Avery stares at the bar for a few minutes, watching the people that walk in while it's still light out and contemplating whether she should be one of them. She knows that she shouldn't go inside. She knows that she should go back to work. She knows that she shouldn't let the contents of that file drive her into a spiral.

She goes inside.

Avery sets down the box filled with the rest of her clothes, taking in the furniture finally set up in the bedroom. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, relieved that she has an actual bed to sleep in instead of the mattress she's been crashing on the last few nights after stumbling home from the bar. She walks back into the main area of the apartment, smiling wider as Kevin finishes mounting her television and Adam adjusts the couch. Avery narrows her eyes as she watches Kim playfully throwing cushions at him to set up, their laughter filling the apartment. "Thank you guys again for helping me today," she gushes.

"Stop thanking us," Kim laughs, "You know we're happy to help." She moves to head to the bathroom, squeezing Avery's hand with a smile as she passes.

Avery watches until she is for sure out of earshot before slowly making her way towards Adam with a smirk. He plops down on the couch with a sigh before spotting her, eyeing her warily, "What's that look for?"

"What's going on with you and Kim?" she counters with a raised brow. He rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a groan. Pointing an accusatory finger, she chuckles, "I knew it. You're hooking up again."

Adam can't fight the smile that creeps up, giving a half shrug, "Maybe."

"Maybe," she mocks as she sits down next to him, earning another eye roll.

They spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out, eating pizza and watching the game on her freshly set up tv. After a few hours, Avery bids them goodbye and starts unpacking her clothes until she can't ignore the itch anymore. She grabs a glass from the kitchen, pouring drink that ends up containing a hefty amount of vodka and just a splash of soda before heading back to the bedroom. She moves over to the window that she managed to turn into a makeshift crime board. Opening the panels, Avery stares at the photos and pages she taped up days ago. She knows that there is way more to the story of the last two years, and she is going to figure it out. Agent Lang was right. She is going to finish what she started.

tag list: @talicat713 @anotherfan07 @nevaehstreater18 @hehurst23 @goingwiththewind @pinkwhitebrown @jesseleesofferupdates @mrspeacem1nusone @romanogersendgame @nobodycanknowus @toomuchtv95 @atarmychick007 @butterflylies @imtoanonymousforyou @renataficrecs @ossypooh @haynsey @hajrakhan @whothehelliskayleigh @silentbutscreaming @letsstarsfalling @brookerz122493 @mrshalsteadxx @itserickalove @livstilinski @bebataylor84 @sande5098 @withakindheartx @star017 @camillyb @nerdybeansprout @munteanmiss @jackson-n @callsignlunar

#jay halstead #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #story: absentia #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed

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onechicagolife · 7 months

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ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ | ᴊᴀʏ ʜᴀʟꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ

Chapter Eighteen

Staring out at the still water, Mia tugged her knees closer towards her chest and rubbed her hands over her legs. The summer air was cooler at night, especially by the water, causing goosebumps on her skin even through the material of the sweatpants she wore. The weekends spent in northern Wisconsin every summer were her favorite of the year, enjoying the escape from city life despite how much she loved Chicago. For those few days, she could pretend that this was her life. Vacations spent in the peace and quiet of the wilderness with the people she cared about most in the world. And in the moments when it was just the two of them, just her and Jay while their families stayed behind at the cabin, she could imagine a future with him. For a few moments, it didn't feel like just a pipe dream.

At the sound of footsteps and the creaking of old wood, Mia peered over her shoulder, jus table to make out the form of that very person in the dark walking down the dock. Tugging a sweatshirt over his head, Jay sent a small smile her way when he was close enough for the moon to bask them in a gentle light. "Hey," he spoke softly, "Thought you went and got kidnapped by a serial killer or something."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes at him as he settled down with barely an inch between them, legs daggling over the ledge. "Okay, drama queen." He flashed his famous grin her way and her smile softened before glancing back towards the water. Mia watched the reflection of the stars bounce off the water like glass, not a single wave disturbing the perfect picture, "Couldn't sleep."

Jay studied her profile for a moment, "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," she shook her head slightly after a few seconds, "Everyone's so chaotic during the day. I just like the quiet, y'know?"

"Yeah." Jay followed her gaze out to the water before peering up at the midnight sky, "The stars are insane out here."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company. The stillness in the air around them was interrupted by the sound of a sniffle and Jay turned his head with a furrow of his brows. He could see the light sheen of tears threatening to spill from Mia's eyes, but he didn't say anything, knowing that she would speak when she was ready. It took a few more minutes before she did.

"Y'know, when I was a kid, before we moved to Canaryville, me and my dad used to go camping a lot. It was the only time we really spent together, but I didn't mind. It was something that was just for us, and I thought it was so... loving, that he made the time for me." She scoffed out a laugh, swiping quickly at a stray tear that managed to fall, "In hind sight, he was probably doing it out of guilt. To make up for all the time he spent off with his other family." When she paused to take a deep breath, Jay stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. "We had this spot, a campground near a lake – smaller than this one, but just as clear. We used to sit on these rocks and just watch the sun set over the water and the moon come out. And my dad... he would say that this was the only place in the world where you could see water this still."

Mia laughed again, but this time it was sincere, "Obviously, a lie, but I was a kid and didn't know any better than to believe him. And then..." Her voice was shaking again and she sounded so, so tired, "Then he would say that it was the only place 'where the water meets the stars.'" The last word came out broken and she closed her eyes, a few more tears trailing down her cheeks, and Jay finally acted.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Mia melted into his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder, and exhaling breaths in time with his. She listened to the thumping of his heartbeat while he rubbed his thumb back and forth on her arm, soothing the thoughts in her head. "Thank you," she whispered.

Jay's voice was just as soft, "For what?"

"For giving those words a new meaning."

When she opens her eyes again, it's to the sound of the road beneath the wheels turning into gravel. The afternoon sun is high in the sky now, and Mia squints as her eyes adapt to the light. She adjusts herself in the seat to peer out the window, taking in the surroundings. The car drives on a poorly constructed dirt driveway, moving further and deeper through thick tree. As the terror reignites in the pit of her stomach, a spark of hope twinges in the back of her mind at the possibility that she was right. It's clear that they are in the woods, probably heading towards some sort of cabin, and the time spent driving felt like it could match the journey towards Newton Lake. She doesn't recognize the immediate area, but if she is right, then at least she pointed Jay in the right direction. All she has to do is stay alive until he finds her.

It feels incredibly longer than it should for them to finally reach a break in the trees and a decent-sized cabin, old but stable, comes into view. The car slows the closer it gets before parking, Daniel shutting off the engine. A chill runs up her spine and she knows he's facing her, feeling his eyes boring into the back of her head. Mia takes a steadying breath and schools her features as best she can before angling her body towards him. When she manages to swallow down the rising bile in her throat enough to meet his gaze, her eyes linger on the key he dangles between his fingers.

"Are you feeling cooperative after your nap?" Daniel asks, a playful lilt to his voice that starts to induce a migraine. She manages to quirk up the corners of her mouth in what can barely be described as a smile and nods. He beams at her response, oblivious to the way she holds her breath when he leans forward to unlock the cuff around her wrist. "I'll grab our bags," he says as if this is some sort of vacation before climbing out of the car, the slam of the door making her nearly jump out of her skin.

Closing her eyes, Mia sucks in a long breath through her nose, exhaling slowly. You can do this.

She can do this.

Opening the passenger side door, she swings her legs out, ignoring the slight tingle from sitting so long as rocks crunch under her sneakers. When Daniel closes the trunk, he approaches her with two duffle bags, one slung over his shoulder and the other gripped tightly in his hand. Her eyes drop down to the gun still tucked into his waistband and she averts her gaze before he notices. Daniel glances between the cabin and her face with a huge grin. "Do you like it?" he tilts his chin towards the house, voice filled with hope.

It takes Mia a moment to register the question before she pastes the fake smile back onto her face, "It's beautiful. I love it."

He exhales a giant breath, like he'd had the greatest weight in the world on his shoulders. As if her liking the cabin in the remote wilderness where she would be held against her will was the most important thing ever. As if he hadn't murdered multiple women in the name of love. No. In the name of some twisted obsession, some fantasy that would disappear the moment she didn't live up to his expectations. "I knew you would," Daniel beams, leading her towards the small porch, "Just wait until you see the inside. I know it seems small, but you'll love the bathroom. I put in a claw foot tub just like the one in your old house, I know how much you love taking bubble baths."

The thought of him watching her undress and bathe through her windows makes her nauseous. "Thank you," she manages, surprising even herself at how genuine it sounds. Climbing the few steps, Mia glances around as she waits for him to unlock the multiple locks on the front door, searching for anything. Any semblance of life other than them, anywhere she could run, anywhere she could hide. But all she sees is trees... and more trees. Soon enough the door swings open and she is forced to step through the threshold first, immediately searching for another exit, but there are none that she can see from here.

As she continues to look around, a sense of dread starts to build in her stomach, crawling into her throat. The furniture and décor are surprisingly her style, and she quickly realizes that that isn't a coincidence. This isn't just a cabin meant to be a getaway from city life. No, this is a home. This is meant for her. For them. The realization that he is never intending on letting her leave this place, adrenaline floods through her veins and fight or flight kicks in. Mia takes a few more steps, the sound of Daniel's voice droning on about how he updated the fixtures and appliances slowly becoming white noise. Eyes darting around to find the closest possible weapon, she spots a pair of thick wooden candle stands that appear to have some weight behind them. She acts on instinct.

Mia lurches forward and swipes one of the stands, turning around and advancing on her captor as fast as she can. It's clear that she takes him by complete surprise by the way his eyes widen. Daniel falls back against the door in an attempt to get away, lifting an arm to defend himself from the attack. She lands a hit to the top of his arm towards his shoulder, and if she weren't so scared, she would have felt a wave of satisfaction at the pathetic yelp he lets out. When she pulls away to land another blow, it gives him the chance to regain his bearings and fight back. Both of his hands grip the wooden object before it can hit him and he pushes it back towards her, using the force of his weight against Mia and disrupting her balance. Sensing the shift in power and being faced with the anger in his eyes, her face contorts with fear, immediately regretting what she just did.

Yanking the makeshift weapon out of her hands, Daniel chucks it to the side and raises a hand. The back of it collides with her cheek with a sickening smack before she can process what's happening, and she falls to the floor. She tries to break the fall as best she can, her forearms striking the wood first, and the impact reverberates through her entire body. Tears sting behind her eyes as she breathes through the pain, whipping her hair out of her face as she glares up at him. His chest is rising and falling impossibly fast, his hands clenching into fists by his sides as he stares down at her with a wild look in his eyes.

Even though she has spent the last few hours in absolute terror, Mia felt an underlying security at the knowledge that his obsession was based on love. A distorted meaning of the word, but still better than hate. Right now is the first moment, though, where she can truly see what he is capable of, where she genuinely fears for her life.

Right now, Mia is faced with the reality that this is only going to end one way.

#jay halstead #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #story: always #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed #can you believe i'm alive

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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Hello, can I request a jay halstead one shot where him and his wife have a toddler (preferably a girl). Their baby girl is territorial when it comes to her dadda, she would throw a mini tantrum every time jay and his wife are all lovey dovey. Thank you so much! 😊

you can read mine here :)

#request

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onechicagolife · 1 year

Text

mine

summary: in which y/n has some competition

requested? yes by anonymous

word count: 1370

warnings: none

want to be tagging? link in bio <3

You wake up to sunlight peeking through the curtains and the sound of your daughter’s giggles filling the apartment, a smile finding its way on your face before you even open your eyes. You notice the lack of the familiar body normally cuddled up behind you and while you usually hate waking up without your husband beside you, it is something about the weekends you secretly love. When Jay wakes up to tend to your toddler in place of you, who usually handles everything during the week so that he can get every ounce of sleep for his demanding job. He even makes breakfast so that you can eat as soon as you wake up – which is partly for his own benefit, never wanting you to be hangry if he can help it.

Finally opening your eyes, you rub the sleep from them and glance at the clock on your nightstand. You realize that it is a bit earlier than you normally get up, which explains the absence of the scent of pancakes and maple syrup. Getting out of bed, you venture out of the bedroom, and you are now able to place the laughs as coming from the nursery. You know how much Jay cherishes every second he is able to spend with your daughter, so you decide to let him enjoy the time and make breakfast instead.

As you're cooking, you hear footsteps coming down the hall, and soon enough Jay enters the kitchen with a grin on his face and a toddler in his arms. You glance over your shoulder and smile, “Morning!” Turning off the burner as you flip the final pancake onto the stack, you grab the plate and make your way toward the kitchen table.

“Hello there,” Jay smirks as you come to stand in front of him and loop an arm around his back. It turns into a frown though when you turn your attention to your daughter.

“Good morning, baby girl,” you pepper her chubby cheeks with kisses, heart swelling at the sound of her giggles. When you lean away and notice your husband’s pout, you roll your eyes, “And you too, babe.”

Jay immediately smiles again, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you move your hand to cup his cheek, tracing your thumb over his freckles. You stand on your tiptoes to meet his lips and they barely touch for a few seconds before stubby fingers tangle in your hair and yank. Face scrunching up in pain as your head is pulled to the side, you bring your hand to wrap around your daughters. “Ow!” you let out, trying to detach her grip. Babies should not be this strong.

“Hey,” Jay scolds, helping you loosen her grip and twisting so that she can no longer reach you.

Rubbing at the roots of your hair, you frown at your baby girl, “That wasn’t nice, sweetie.”

She stares back at you with a look that could kill a man, tightening her grip on her father and snuggling against his chest, “My dada!”

You realize that she was mad that you were kissing your husband and can’t help the small chuckle that escapes past your lips. She has always been a daddy’s girl through and through, and even a bit territorial, but never like this. Never with you. Arching a brow at Jay, you notice the sheepish look of realization dawning on him, “Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Yeah, I uh, forgot to mention that when Will dropped her off the other day after he picked her up from daycare, he said she’s been having some problems with the other kids,” he explains slowly, rubbing a hand up and down the still-pouting toddler’s back.

You cross your arms over your chest, “Problems?”

Jay presses his lips together, bringing one hand to scratch at his jaw under the weight of your annoyed gaze, “With sharing.”

He tells you the details as you sit and eat breakfast, about an ‘altercation’ with a boy in her class that tried to play with her blocks, and she allegedly threw one in his face. Whatever, the kid was fine. Clearly, she was defending herself from a would-be thief. You go over a few ideas of how to deal with it, not really having experience having to discipline your baby yet.

After doing the dishes, Jay comes over to join you in the living room. You are curled up on the couch while your daughter plays with her toys on the floor, grateful that she isn’t one of those toddlers that need cartoons on 24/7 so you can enjoy your own shows. At least not yet. Flopping down next to you with an exhausted huff, you chuckle at his antics, “You good?”

“We should get a maid,” Jay nestles against you, resting his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You laugh again, wrapping your arm around his shoulders, “Or we could just get you one of those slutty Halloween costumes. You’d look pretty sexy with a duster.”

Lifting his head slightly, Jay peers up at you with narrowed eyes, “You really are only with me for my looks, huh.”

“Obviously,” you tease before planting a kiss on his lips.

“My dada!” your daughter suddenly screams at the top of her lungs, breaking you two apart in shock. She wobbles over to you on her little legs, crying and making grabby hands at Jay. She repeats, “My dada!”

“It’s okay, baby,” Jay sits up straight and catches her when she barrels into him, immediately holding her close and soothing her cries. He assures, “I’m right here, I’m still your dada.”

At this point, you can’t help but laugh at her antics. Watching your husband snuggle her close as she cries because she loves him so much that she doesn’t want to share him, even with her own mother. It warms your heart to think about how lucky you are to have found such an incredible, loving man. It makes you proud of your choices and proud of your family.

But you also know that you need to establish some boundaries. You don't want your daughter to think that it's okay to throw a tantrum every time she has to share something, let alone when you show affection to your husband. You shift your body a bit, making eye contact with Jay and nodding as you reach your arms out. He tactfully maneuvers your daughter from his arms to yours, struggling a bit to loosen her fierce grip on his shirt. You gently pull her onto your lap and even though she is in the middle of a tantrum where she is mad at you, she immediately settles into your hold. “I know you love Daddy,” you coo, “But Mommy loves Daddy too. We all love each other, sweetie. We can share all the hugs and kisses, okay?”

She looks up at you with big, tear-filled eyes, and you can see that she's trying to process what you're saying. When Jay shuffles closer to the two of you, her gaze shifts to him as he drapes an arm over your shoulders. She starts to pout until he brings his other hand to grab her tiny little fist. “See, baby girl?” Jay kisses you on the cheek first, "We can all love each other." He leans forward and brings his lips to her hand, pretending to bite her fingers. As fast as the tears started falling, they dry on her cheeks as she erupts into a fit of giggles.

You shake your head, her ability to shift moods so rapidly never failing to amaze you. You bite your lip to hide your smile, “With all the women in the city of Chicago, I never thought my competition would be my own daughter.”

“I mean,” Jay grins up at you, “Can you really blame her for being obsessed with me?”

You scoff, lightly shoving his shoulder. But honestly, you can’t really blame her because you’re a little obsessed with him yourself. And as you sit there, watching how amazing he is with your little family, you can’t help but grow a bit more in love with the man you’re lucky enough to call your husband.

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#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just…I can’t imagine you not here.

Jay Halstead x reader

you can read prayers here :)

#request

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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Hey! I love your writing. If you haven’t written it already I was wondering if you could write a imagine where jay and the reader are dating and she is a doctor but the hospital goes in to lockdown because of a shooter ( happy ending or sad take your pick)

you can read prayers here :)

#request

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onechicagolife · 1 year

Text

prayers

summary: prompt 33 - in which chicago med goes on lockdown

requested? yes by anonymous (x2)

word count: 1426

warnings: active/mass shooting (i know this is canon with the triggers of the show but this is a particularly tough topic; there is nothing explicit or descriptive other than gunshots being heard)

want to be tagged? link in bio <3

You make your way back towards the emergency department with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, the cafeteria coffee being surprisingly better than whoever stocks the doctor’s lounge with some weird, flavored crap you can’t keep down. This feels like the longest shift of your life, rarely getting a break from the craziness of a Chicago hospital. You take a long sip, savoring the taste when your pager beeps on your waist. You groan to yourself, not wanting to have to toss your coffee and run to the ED, even though it is a relatively short distance now. When you finally tug the pager free from where it is clipped to your scrubs, your breath hitches in your throat as you read the letters staring back at you.

CODE SILVER.

Racking your brain for an email about a drill that you may have skimmed over, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest like an anvil on metal sending a ringing through your ears. This has to be a drill. You learn about what to do in active shooter situations, but you never thought one would actually happen at a hospital. The small hope that this was somehow not real squashes when three quick shots ring out and your head shoots up, the sound scaring you so bad that you drop the cup in your hand. Coffee splashes on your feet and the brief shocked silence is suddenly filled with screams.

You’ve been trained for this. You’ve been trained for this. You’ve been trained for this.

Everything you learned flew out the window the second you heard those shots sounding too close for comfort and you stand there, frozen. You only snap back to yourself when a frantic woman bumps into you as she runs by with her young child in her arms. It works like a bucket of cold water on a sleeping form, and you start taking in your surroundings. Your eyes dart in every direction, watching as people run and attempt to hide as more shots ring out.

When your eyes land on a door that has a locked card scanner, you kick it into gear. You run over and swipe your access card, watching the red light turn green and waiting for the click to open the door. Glancing back over your shoulder, you spot a group of people trying to shield themselves poorly behind furniture, and you call out to get their attention. When one elderly man meets your eyes, you check both ways to make sure the coast is clear before gesturing them over.

Once everyone in sight is ushered inside, cramming as tightly as possible in the uncomfortably small storage space, you close the door and sit with your back against it. Closing your eyes for a second, you let out a long breath through your nose to try and slow your breathing. One woman’s sobs reach your ears, and your eyes fly open. You bring a finger to your lips and shush her, feeling bad for the harshness but knowing now is not the time for niceties. Someone has to be in charge, and it’s going to be you.

Now that you’ve had a moment to catch your breath with the solid barrier between the rest of the hospital, the severity of the situation hits you. Immediately, you pull out your phone from the inner pocket of your lab coat. The brightness is stark in the almost pitch-blackness of the room and you hurry to turn the brightness all the way down before it can be seen through the space under the door. Eyes adjusting to the screen, you notice the dozens of text messages and missed calls.

Will Halstead: where the hell are you

Will Halstead: there’s a shooter in the ED

Will Halstead: WHERE ARE YOU

Maggie Lockwood: There’s multiple people down in the ED.

Connor Rhodes: Locked in the hybrid OR with Will. Shooter somewhere in the hospital. Where are you?

Maggie Lockwood: Are you safe?

Jay Halstead (14 missed calls)

You respond to the texts first, assuring that you are safe and exactly where you are. It takes a few moments longer than usual due to the shaking of your hands that you can’t gain control of. You’re a doctor, your job relies on steady hands. Yet here you are, struggling to construct a sentence that makes sense. Once you manage, though, you tap the call button on your boyfriend’s contact. Bringing the phone to your ear, you listen as it goes straight to voicemail without even ringing. Meaning his phone is off. Hopefully meaning that he’s responding to this very scene. Hopefully meaning you won’t die without being able to tell him that you’re in love with him. You close your eyes shut to hold back the tears, knowing that if you break down, there’s no way the other dozen people in here will be able to keep it together.

It feels like hours go by in harrowing stillness, but in reality, it was probably shorter than that. Truthfully, you have no idea. It could have been days or seconds, and you wouldn’t know the difference. The sobs around you have quieted, with some of the people falling into silent prayers and hugging the complete strangers beside them. You even pray yourself, to any god or being that will listen, to get you out of this and back to the people – the person – you love. But the silence is interrupted when footsteps echo through the halls outside where you’ve found shelter, and the sobs of a few come back in full force, others trying their best to smother the sounds.

You bring a still-shaking hand up to your mouth, stifling the short breaths as your strength fractures and a few tears trail down your cheeks as the footsteps get closer. When they seem to come to halt just behind where you sit, there's only two inches separating you from whoever is outside.

You hold your breath.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of the love of your life’s voice. You quickly move to stand up when a young girl, maybe ten, tugs harshly on your pant leg. Glancing down, you meet her frightened eyes and do your best at a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” you glance around the room with a soft nod, “that’s the police.” Heavy gasps and relieved cries fill the room as you manage to spin around in the cramped space, gripping the handle and yanking the door open.

Immediately, your eyes land on Jay, and a sense of peace washes over you. The feeling is mirrored in his eyes as he takes you in, checking you for nonexistent injuries before you all but launch yourself at him. His arms circle your waist as yours wind around his neck with a grip so tight you’re nearly choking him, but he doesn’t even mind. Jay lifts you off the ground slightly to move out of the way, allowing the other dozen people to come out and be helped by the various other officers.

“Thank god,” you choke out, tears now flowing freely.

“It’s okay,” Jay mumbles into your hair, one hand migrating to cradle the back of your head, “You’re okay.”

After a few moments of being calmed in his embrace, you pull away just enough to meet his eyes. “Is everyone okay? Did you find Will and th—” you start to ask, words tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can think them.

“Everyone’s okay,” Jay assures, both hands moving to cup your cheeks, “A few bystanders and a nurse were shot, but everyone is going to live. I found Will in the ED; he told me where you were.”

You close your eyes and nod at his words, signaling that you understand them.

Swiping a tear off of your skin, Jay says your name like a prayer and you open your eyes once again. “When you didn’t answer your phone, I—I thought,” he struggles to get the words out, “I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just… I can’t imagine you not here. I love you, Y/N.”

The words hit your ears and it’s a melody you want to listen to for the rest of your life. Jay has never said that to you before and now you never want him to stop.

You manage a watery smile, leaning in until your forehead touches his, “I love you.”

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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should be fixed 💙

to that last anon, the links are working fine on desktop but you're right, they're linking to the wrong fics on mobile 🤔 i'll work on it!! until then, every fic is tagged #jay halstead imagine if you want to find them that way for now 😘

#my ramblings

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onechicagolife · 1 year

Text

#my ramblings

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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I don’t know if its just me but your masterlist links arent working! It’s like a bunch of them are linked together

UGH ty i’ll take a look at it now

#answered

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onechicagolife · 1 year

Note

It was so good!!

thank you babe!!

#answered

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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hi, i wanted one with jay halstead, yn and jay have been fighting a lot lately - yn thinks it's because he's having body changes, when they fight in front of the yn district yells that she is pregnant and that if he doesn't want her because it's getting ugly everything good . With very cute ending, please

you can read doubts here :)

#request #fofisstilinski

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onechicagolife · 1 year

Text

doubts

summary: in which y/n has had enough

requested? yes by @fofisstilinski

word count: 2019

warnings: none

a/n: i've been gone forever and this request is so old i’m so sorry

want to be tagged? link in bio <3

You sit on the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. It's almost midnight, and Jay still hasn't come home to your shared apartment. This isn't the first time your boyfriend has been working late over the last few weeks, and you are starting to get really tired of it. Something has changed between you two, shifted in your relationship. You can't shake the feeling of dread that's been slowly building in the pit of your stomach, only growing every time you got a measly text saying not to wait up for him.

In fact, you stare at one of those texts right now. Your mind races as you try to figure out what could be going on, anything but the worst-case scenario that's gnawing in the back of your mind. Jay has been acting strange lately – making secretive phone calls, and being more irritable than usual. You'll never fully understand the things he's been through as a detective, so you've tried to brush it off as work stress, hoping that he really has been so busy that he stays late every night. But you can't ignore what's been staring you in the face anymore. He's cheating on you. It's the only thing that makes sense. And if that fact wasn't bad enough, the timing couldn't be worse.

You just found out this morning that you're pregnant. You were suspicious when your clothes started feeling a bit snug, when you started being randomly overcome with waves of nausea. When Jay's obvious exhaustion and your emotions that felt more erratic than ever made the two of you fight in the seemingly rare moments that he was even home. And when your period was too late to be ignored, you made an appointment with your doctor and that was that. You can't help but wonder if this is part of the reason he's been acting this way. Even though you now know why, the weight you've gained over the last couple of weeks has been subtle, but noticeable. You have never been the type to feel insecure about your body when it came to your relationship with Jay. He has always made you feel like the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and that every inch of you, every flaw, was something to be worshipped. But the timing seemed so obvious to you now.

Watching the hand tick another minute, your heightened anger and frustration bubble over the edge and you can't take it anymore. You can't keep living like this, wondering what's going on, doubting your future together. Feeling alone. Not when another life is now in the mix. You need to know the truth, whatever it is.

You let out a slight breath of relief when you spot Jay’s truck in the parking lot of the 21st, knowing that at least tonight, he wasn’t lying. Still, something is going on that you need to figure out now. Swallowing down your nerves, you march into the district with your head held high, even though your heart is pounding in your chest. Walking by second-shift officers you don’t recognize, you chat briefly with a desk sergeant you’ve never met before he buzzes you upstairs. The second your feet hit the steps leading up to Intelligence, though, the anxiety comes back in full force. Uncomfortable fluttering starts in the pit of your stomach, and the pregnancy nausea morphs the butterflies into a weird tingling throughout your entire body. But you can’t turn back now; you need to know if the most important relationship in your life is over.

Closing your eyes and breathing in a slow breath through your nose, you steel yourself and trudge forward. When you reach the top of the stairs, you take in the bullpen you’ve been in many times before – though, usually when every desk is full of the people you’ve come to call family. Now, every single desk is empty. Spotting Jay’s jacket still draped over the back of his chair, you notice that the door to Sergeant Voight’s door is closed and step closer so you can see through the half-open blinds.

As angry as you felt, you didn’t want to interrupt whatever Jay was discussing with his boss, trying to give him a little latitude considering he is where he said he would be tonight. So you pull out his chair, sit down, and wait.

About ten minutes go by with your arms crossed, a pout on your face, and your eyes staring daggers into the door before it swings open and the object of your irritation steps through the threshold. Jay spots you immediately and is clearly taken aback, brows furrowing and mouth falling open slightly. He glances down at his watch to check the time, confusion only deepening as he works to close the distance between you. “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought I texted you,” he starts, the genuine confusion in his voice clueing you into the fact he hasn’t picked up on your sour mood yet. Funny, you thought you were making it obvious.

“You did.” Your voice is clipped, and you can tell the second he realizes something is off by the way concern overtakes his features.

Jay circles around the side of the desk and reaches his hands towards you, “Are you okay?” Before he can touch you, you dig in your heels and roll the chair back a few inches. You watch his face immediately fall and confusion return, furrow deepening as he returns his arms to hand at his sides. “What’s going on?”

Unfolding your arms, you stand and swallow down the lump in your throat. You force yourself to meet his eyes, “You tell me, Jay.”

“I,” he starts slowly, gears shifting in his head as he tries to piece together what’s happening, “don’t know what’s happening.”

He was really going to play dumb and make you spell it out for him? You scoff, turning a half-step away and dragging a shaking hand through your hair. “Look, I get it, okay? I do. I’ve seen it happen countless times with my friends. I—I just never thought it would happen to me, y’know? To us,” you ramble, barely taking in oxygen between words as you pace back and forth.

Jay opens his mouth to reiterate his confusion, but you continue with your rant before he has the chance. “But I know the signs. I’m not an idiot and you’re not as smooth as you think you are, I notice things.” You spin back around to face him, “I see the way you hide your phone and take phone calls in the other room, saying that it's ‘work’ and then leaving with no other explanation. You say that you’re working late and not to wait up and I get that, I get that you’re busy. But it started with once or twice a week until it became three nights, and four nights, and now I barely even see you.”

Your eyes start to water as much as you try to blink it away, all the emotions building over the last few weeks only heightened by the hormones coursing through your body. Jay’s face continues to soften at your words, with sadness and silent apologies in his eyes. But if you don’t continue, if you let yourself breathe, you know you’ll give in to those eyes like you always do. “And when I do, you’re always exhausted, and you won’t talk to me about it,” your voice is trembling now, “You barely even look at me let alone touch me.”

Shaking his head gently, Jay takes a small step towards you, “Y/N—” “Just tell me who it is,” you manage to croak out after another half-step back, “Is it Hailey? Someone else you work with? Someone that you met at Molly’s?”

Eyes widening slightly, Jay is completely blindsided by your accusation. Taking in the pain on your face, the tears threatening to fall, the way you tremble where you stand, he hates that his actions have done this to you. He thought he was protecting you by keeping you in the dark about the cruel and dangerous parts of his life. But now it’s finally catching up to him in the worst way imaginable.

“Y/N, I swear to god, this is not what you think,” he tries to explain.

You let out an angry chuckle, “What I think? What I think is that I am sick of feeling like the third wheel in this relationship, getting between you and your job. And if this is what things are going to be like now, if this is our new normal, that is not okay with me, okay? I refuse to bring this baby into a home that you seemingly can’t wait to get away from, and I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Jay does interrupt this time, doing a double-take at your words, thinking he must have heard you wrong. This baby. “What did you just say?”

Finally having a second to breathe, your words catch up to you and you realize what you let slip. This was not how you imagined telling Jay about the start of your family when it eventually happened. You figured you’d buy a cute little onesie that said ‘my daddy loves me’ or something else incredibly cheesy and adorable. You’d give it to him over a nice dinner, and you’d cry and laugh and start fighting about names. It wasn’t this.

“I’m pregnant,” you exhale, trying to gauge his reaction.

You watch his face go through an entire journey in the span of five seconds. From shocked confusion to overwhelming joy to panic. Jay extends his arms, testing the waters as he tries again to close the space between you, and he takes it as a good sign when you don’t move away. You close your eyes but allow him to touch your shoulders, sliding his hands down your arms until he tangles his fingers with yours. “Baby, I am not cheating on you. There’s no one else, there could never be anyone else, okay? I love you so much, you have to believe that. Please tell me you believe that.”

Taking in his words carefully, focusing on the warmth of his touch, you believe him. With your entire being, you believe him. Eyes still closed, you nod your head and squeeze his hands. He pulls one hand out of your grasp, bringing it up to cradle your cheek. “Hey,” his voice is soft, and Jay swipes a falling tear from your cheek. He traces his thumb over your skin until you open your eyes, immediately melting at the seafoam staring into your soul. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I—I thought I was protecting you by keeping my job separate from us, because this job, this unit… This stuff I’ve been going through with Voight… I’m just trying to keep my head above water and,” Jay leans until his forehead rests against yours, “I should’ve let you help me. I’m sorry.”

Closing your eyes again, you nod against his forehead. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him, hugging you tightly. Your own arms wind around his neck, fingers immediately finding their way into the short hair at the base of his neck. You stay like that for a while, letting the tension that has become a permanent fixture in your body over the last few weeks finally drain out of you.

When your breaths even out, Jay loosens his hold on you and leans back just enough for him to glance down at you in his arms. A smile slowly starts to tug at the corners of his mouth, “Are we really having a baby?”

You match his grin with one of your own, and the tears that well in your eyes are happy this time. A soft laugh bubbles past your lips, “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” Jay lets out a disbelieving laugh of his own before tightening his grasp on you once again, lifting your feet off the ground and pulling you into a kiss.

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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ᴀʙꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴀ | ᴊᴀʏ ʜᴀʟꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ

Avery Clarke is alive.

want to be tagged? link in bio <3

Chapter Eight

Jay flops down onto the brand-new couch, spreading out his arms and glancing to the side as Avery settles into the cushions with a blissful smile. She arches her brows and hums in question. He lets out a laugh, "I think you actually got both."

"Function and form," she points out, shuffling her body to face him.

"Like me," he smirks. Avery raises an unimpressed brow, biting back the smile threatening to take over. Shrugging, he continues, "I have rugged good looks plus a razor-sharp mind. It's rare, but when it comes together—"

His words are cut off when Avery closes the distance between them, connecting their lips in a soft kiss. Their first kiss in weeks. Since she quit Intelligence and broke up with him, pushing him away no matter how hard he tried to be there for her. Since she came back to save him from Keyes, risking her life for his without a second thought. Since she got clean and became his partner again, slowly letting him in. After a second of surprise, Jay returns the kiss for a few moments before she retreats, and he sits up to chase her lips. His eyes scan her face, lingering on the gentle smile she sends.

Avery offers a simple shrug at the question in his eyes, swallowing back the emotion threatening to spill over the edge, "That was for never giving up on me." After everything she did, every hurtful thing she said, his loyalty never wavered. He licks his lips, lifting a hand to cradle the side of her face. He brushes a wisp of hair away with his thumb, glancing at her mouth before leaning in for another kiss. This one lasts a little longer and weighs heavier with want. When she moves away this time, though, her expression changes. Her eyes are brimming with tears, pain and anger contorting her features. He watches in confusion, brows furrowing at the hurt in her eyes. "If it had been me," Avery manages with a raspy voice, "I never would've given up on you."

With a gasping breath, Jay's eyes fly open as he shoots up in bed. Avery's voice echoes through his head, and he drags a hand down his face to rub the sleep from his eyes. Titling his chin, his eyes land on the empty pillow beside him, grateful that he managed to dodge Hailey's invitation to her place once again. He stumbled through an excuse of being tired and hoped he was at least able to hide that seeing Avery leaving the district with Adam's arm draped over her shoulders was the reason for the complete shift in his demeanor. Nothing has really progressed with his current partner since his former partner returned to his life. He's avoided any deep conversations about their relationship status and stopped things from moving past a few kisses here and there. And even though Hailey told him she understood and it's okay to take things slowly, he can tell her patience is wearing thin. The feelings he has for her are still there – of course they are. But things are complicated now, and the thought of hurting either woman is tearing him up inside.

He glances out the window, sighing when he notices that it's still dark out before reaching for his phone on the nightstand to check the time. 4:12 am. He lays back down, trying to calm his racing heart with slow breaths. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, unable to stop replaying those bitter words over and over again, Jay gives up on falling back asleep and throws the covers off. He goes about his morning routine, dressing in workout clothes and shoving a shirt and jeans into his gym bag. He knows he should settle into his desk and get started on the mountain of paperwork waiting, but he needs to get rid of all this pent-up adrenaline and clear his head.

Avery's fists pound against the bag, harder and harder with every hit. Even after such a long and crazy day, she still couldn't sleep last night. She kept her eyes closed for maybe an hour before the images flashing through her mind forced her eyelashes to flutter open with a frustrated sigh. She felt bad about sneaking out without a word and leaving Adam fast asleep beside her, but she couldn't face him just yet. Not until she got her thoughts in order.

She should've been able to let go of every terrible aspect of her life and enjoy the release of sex, but she couldn't bring herself to. Even though she's only ever seen Adam as a friend, she's not blind to how attractive he is and thought that it would be easy to fall into bed. His shirt had been tossed across the room before she pulled away, blinking back tears. She couldn't do it. And of course, with Adam being Adam, he comforted her until she fell asleep tucked into his side. But she still feels guilty, like she betrayed herself. Like she betrayed Jay. Every time she closed her eyes, it was Jay's touch she felt, his lips ghosting over her skin. It doesn't make sense, she knows that. Though to her, it was not long ago that she was cuddling up to him in their bed, laughing and kissing and planning a trip to the cabin in northern Wisconsin. But it wasn't a few weeks ago; it was two years ago.

The sound of the door opening and closing breaks her focus, slowing down her movements as she grabs the bag to stop its swinging. Her eyes trail towards the entrance, breath hitching in her throat as they land on a familiar figure.

Jay glances up from his phone, steps faltering and mouth opening slightly in surprise. "Hey," he breathes out, coming to a full halt. When she doesn't say anything, just brushes a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead, he gestures awkwardly over his shoulder, "Sorry. I can go if—"

"—No," she is quick to interrupt with a shake of her head. "It's fine. You can," Avery waves a hand weakly around the space, "do whatever."

He gives a succinct nod and a tight-lipped smile, turning towards one of the benches to set down his bag. Jay lingers there, sifting through the bag and trying to stop his gaze from wandering as thundering punches echo off the vaulted ceilings. After wrapping his hands, a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips when he allows himself to fully take Avery in. He moves a few steps forward, recognizing the concentrated frown and making sure to speak loud enough to reach her. "How about a round?" he asks, tilting his chin towards the sparring mats when she lifts her head.

Avery steadies the bag once again, eyes searching his face and rolling at the arrogant smirk. She glances between the mats and him, hesitating as she considers the offer.

"Come on," Jay takes a step closer, arching a teasing brow, "We both know you want to hit me."

She snorts, shaking her head and biting back a smile. She pushes back her sweaty hair and tightens her ponytail, unable to refuse him no matter how much she should. "Think you can handle it, Halstead?"

He watches as she takes a few steps backward with a challenging quirk of her brow, fighting the urge to let his eyes wander over her figure as he follows. She stops in the middle of the mat, planting her feet and raising her fists with a grin. Jay mirrors her stance, taking her in and hesitating when the fading scar on the patch of skin exposed between her leggings and sports bra catches his eye.

Avery follows his stare before scoffing and grumbling out, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he doubts and lifts his chin to meet her eyes. He can barely even blink before a swift punch connects with his jaw, appropriately held back for a sparring session but still sending his foot a half step back. Rubbing at his jaw, he moves it around a few times to get rid of the dull ache. He ticks his eyes back to her, huffing out a laugh at the smug grin spread across her face.

"You're right, that felt pretty good," she teases, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet.

He does the same, a smile tugging at his lips as they start to slowly circle each other, "Just like old times, huh?" Not giving her a chance to respond, Jay makes his first move, shuffling close enough to throw out his fist.

She anticipates the hit, knowing the way his mind works and body moves. She picks up on the way his tongue darts out across his bottom lip and the slight shift in weight to his back foot. Avery ducks and sidesteps out of the way, hearing the way his arm cuts through the air above her head. While he's still following through on the motion, she strikes again, kicking out her leg and landing a foot to his stomach. It knocks the wind out of him, but he manages to keep his footing. "If by 'old times' you mean me kicking your ass, then yeah," she shrugs, "Feels pretty familiar."

"Alright," Jay raises his hands defensively again, "I was taking it easy on you."

"In your dreams."

They continue to dance around each other for what feels like an eternity, each landing just as many hits as they miss. Recovering from a quick set of swings that she barely manages to evade, Avery tries to regain her balance. She blocks another low hit, wrapping her fingers around Jay's wrist and twisting his arm away before swinging her other arm towards the side of his head. Jay ducks the hit and uses her own momentum against her, managing to take control of her grip on his wrist and swing her around. Her back collides against his heaving chest with a soft thud, inhaling sharply as he cages her in. Even though she has speed and agility on her side, it's hard to compete with the obvious overpowering strength of his arms tightly pinning hers.

It takes a moment for Avery to catch her breath before she realizes the true weight of the position, tension lingering in the air as the room seemingly heats up at least ten degrees. Jay's hand flexes across the bare skin of her side, his touch burning her flesh, and he can feel the rapid thumping of her heartbeat. She closes her eyes as his warm breath exhales against her neck, sending a shiver up her spine and spreading goosebumps across her skin. She can't help but relax in his hold, melting into the familiar and comforting embrace.

But it's not comforting. Not really. Not when she remembers reality.

Gasp catching in her throat, Avery opens her eyes and feels her heart hammering faster in her chest in a rising panic. Needing to get out of this moment, she puts herself back into a fight or flight mindset and evaluates what her next move would be. She swings her leg to gain enough force to disrupt his balance, twisting it around his ankle and yanking his own out from under him. It works, and she spins out of his grip as Jay tumbles to the floor, back thumping against the mat.

When he fully digests what just happened, completely thrown off by the feeling of having her in his arms again, he opens his eyes and gapes at her. Jay can see the emotion on her face, the anxiety and pain in her eyes, and he raises his hands in surrender. "I give," he huffs out.

It takes a moment of hesitation before she lowers her raised fists and relaxes her fighting stance, gaze softening when he drops his head to the mat and closes his eyes in exhaustion. Taking a step closer, Avery sits down beside him with her knees against her chest. She can't help but remember Adam's words from the night before, and the weight of the last few weeks finally reaches a boiling point. She is so tired.

"I'm sorry," she croaks out, cutting through the otherwise quiet space. He slowly sits up, face scrunched in question. Avery meets his waiting eyes and clarifies, voice soft, "What I said at Molly's... It wasn't fair. I was angry and hurt. And you didn't deserve it."

Letting out a long sigh, he glances down at his lap. Jay finally managed to stop that moment from replaying in his mind, and here it is again at the forefront. He considers what to say next, emotions he spent the last two years suppressing managing to fight their way to the surface. "I looked for you," Jay admits on an exhale, still hanging his head because talking about this is hard enough without drowning in her eyes, eyes that he knows will melt his resolve if he meets them now. But he needs to explain; he can't let her go even one more second thinking that he gave up on her. "Even after Major Crimes took the case from us, I kept looking into it. I couldn't let it go. I couldn't let you go. But then the brass decided you were dead, and the Feds took over and... I didn't want to let you go, Avery." He has to pause to take a deep breath in, blinking away the stinging at the backs of his eyes. He can hear the sharp intake through her nose, and he knows he needs her to believe him. Jay lifts his head and meets her watery eyes, "Losing you almost destroyed me."

It's a bullet to the chest, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending a sharp pain through her entire body. And then the guilt washes over, knowing the pain she caused him with her harsh words that night. "I don't want this," Avery cries softly, closing her eyes as a tear to trails down her cheek, "I don't want to feel like this; I don't want to be angry at you."

"I don't want that either, Ave. I really don't."

She nods, squeezing her eyes shut tighter, "I understand that it's different for you and that you've moved on. But this... it's destroying me."

He deflates at her words, at the tremble in her voice and the pain on her face. All he wants to do is wrap his arms around her shuddering shoulders. So, he does. Shuffling across the mat, Jay gathers her in his arms before she can protest. Avery immediately sags against his chest, clutching his forearms so hard that her nails are sure to leave crescent-shaped marks on his skin. He rocks her gently, whispering comforting words and smoothing back her hair. They stay that way until her cries quiet down.

Reluctantly, she removes herself from his hold and straightens, scooting a few inches out of his personal space. Avery wipes the tears from her cheeks and ticks her eyes towards the ceiling to stop any more from falling. After a few more seconds, she finds her voice again, "I think I just need some time to process everything that I've been avoiding. Not just you—us—but everything else, too. I'm not trying to hurt you or—or punish you. But I need to take care of myself." She exhales a long, shaky breath before somehow managing to look at him again, "I just need to learn how to breathe again, and right now... I can't do that with you in my life."

It hurts to hear her say that, to say that she needs to be away from him. After Nadia died, she pushed him away and he fought like hell to break through the walls she built around her heart. That was what she needed then, for him to have her back even if she didn't want him to. But he is starting to realize that what she needs now isn't the same. "I get it. If you feel like you need space, then I'll respect that. I'll stay out of your way."

"For now," she offers with a soft, pained smile, but it feels like an empty promise. Still, he forces himself to mirror it.

"For now."

Avery puts the vanilla creamer back in the refrigerator, returning to her freshly filled mug. She stirs the coffee absentmindedly, thoughts still whirring from this morning at the gym, the pit in her stomach only growing by the second. At this point, she's not sure the weight will ever go away. When footsteps approach, she lifts her gaze and sucks in a sharp breath. "Hey," Avery coughs, tapping the spoon against the rim of her mug before placing it in the sink to avoid eye contact.

Shortening the distance between them, Adam leans a hip against the counter and glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is within earshot. He stares at his best friend for a few seconds, studying her features and thinking about the best approach to this. "You snuck out pretty early this morning," he settles on.

"Yeah," she clears her throat again, eyes squeezing shut briefly at how awkward she sounds even to her own ears, "I, uh, decided to get a workout in before work." Not a total lie – just conveniently leaving out the guilt over kissing someone else, the fear of ruining their friendship, the embarrassment of breaking down over it, and the paralyzing nightmare that followed. It's fine. She's fine.

He nods with an unconvinced hum, watching the way she fiddles with the mug before bringing it to her lips. She wants to avoid this so badly that she takes a sip of the still-steaming liquid, face scrunching up as it scalds her mouth. Lifting a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, his eyes tick back out to the bullpen. Adam takes a small step closer and lowers his voice, "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We can just forget it ever happened."

At the softness in his tone, Avery finally peers his way. She pauses for a beat before letting out a long, shaky sigh. "Adam," she angles her body towards him, "you are one of the only things that's keeping me on solid ground right now, and I can't risk losing that."

Eyes softening at the emotion in hers, he reaches out a hand to clasp hers where it rests atop the counter between them. "There is nothing—nothing—that could make you lose me. Ever. And certainly not a few drunken kisses. Okay?" A small smile ticks up the corners of her lips and she nods gently. "Besides," he grins and shrugs a shoulder, "wouldn't be the first time a woman rejected me for Halstead."

Mouth falling open slightly, Avery blanches at his joke. She blinks owlishly, "I—hold up, you and Upton?"

Pausing, Adam scratches at his jaw again, realizing that she has no idea what he was talking about and couldn't properly appreciate the self-deprecation she normally enjoys. "Right, I forgot you were dead for that."

She narrows her eyes and sticks out her tongue at him, "Ha ha. You really get around, you know that?"

A throat clearing from the doorway gains both of their attention and at the sight of her former partner, Avery's smile lessens slightly, and she pulls her hand back to her side. "Sorry to interrupt," Jay grits out with eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. He tries to hide it, but he saw her move away quickly and noted their closeness—much like the way they were standing in the parking lot last night. And it bothers him, even though he knows it shouldn't.

"You're not," she does her best to keep her tone even and grabs her now slightly cooled-down mug. Moving towards Jay, she forces a tight-lipped smile as she steps around him and into the bullpen, fighting the urge to glance back over her shoulder. Making her way to her desk, Avery rounds it so she can pull out her chair and glances up, noticing the door to Voight's office is closed. Her eyes narrow as she sits down, barely able to make out the back of an unknown man's frame through the blinds. This early in the morning, the remaining members of the team are still trickling in, so she tilts her chin towards the only other person in the room, "Who is that?"

Lifting his gaze from his computer, Kevin glances between the office and his friend before shrugging, "No idea. Door was closed when I got in."

She hums to herself, sipping her coffee to avoid starting on the backlog of paperwork waiting. Before she even has the chance to pretend to do any real work, the door to Hank's office opens and he takes a half-step through the frame. His eyes immediately land on the detective. "Avery," he pauses until she meets his eyes, "Come here."

Picking up on the strain in his voice, Avery frowns and stands. The tense expression is something she recognizes well. From growing up in the man's house to working under his leadership for years, she knows when something is up. A million scenarios flood her mind, wondering if she is in some sort of trouble and trying to remember what she may have done. The last person she expects to see when she walks into the office, though, is standing opposite her, "Agent Lang?"

"It's good to see you, Avery," the older man greets, sporting a tailored suit and a superficial smile.

Still, the familiarity with which he speaks to her puzzles her slightly, her eyes moving to Hank as he settles on the other side of his desk. Avery only worked with Special Agent David Lang for a few weeks at the DEA task force and frankly, she didn't like him very much. She also didn't leave on the best terms, with the agency not happy to be losing her so soon after recruiting her. "Are we helping out on a case?" she directs the question to her boss, uncertainty only growing when he folds his arms over his chest and silently looks at Lang.

#jay halstead #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed #story: absentia

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