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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 1 year

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IT'S DECEMBER 23RD, WILL!!!

Summary: This is a ficlet that goes in the secondary series that I started as a complement to the main A Herrmann/Halstead Production series. (That series is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.)

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: General

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Christopher Herrmann/Cindy Herrmann, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, pre-Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character

Warnings: None - unless people being extremely late with their Christmas shopping stresses you out...

A/N: I was going to wait and post it at midnight when it was actually December 23rd, but as we all know by now, patience is not a thing that I have...like, on a cellular level. And in any case, it's December 23rd in a whole bunch of places already so we're still good.

This ficlet came about thanks to ao3 reader Maya Moten's question on There's a Way and an anon ask on Tumblr awhile back about whether or not Bex was ready for the holidays. Thank you for the inspiration! It's some cute holiday fluff that I wanted to post now since the longer holiday fic that will take place in the main series is probably going to be posted in like...May, LOL

The fic takes place after Thanksgiving 2014 (which is the first entry in this series) and before Sometimes You Need (which is Part 11 in the main series, A Herrmann/Halstead Production.) Just to let you know where we are in time and space.

IT'S DECEMBER 23RD, WILL!!!

Bex

“Will.” Bex stared at her brother who was slumped in one of their kitchen chairs, face in his hands.

“I know,” he groaned.

“Will,” she repeated, still in shock because seriously?

“I know!” Will squinched his eyes shut as his hands migrated to gripping his hair.

“It’s December 23rd, Will!” Bex flung her hands in the air, absolutely flabbergasted that he’d let things get this far.

He groaned again and leaned forward until his head rested on the table. “Please stop judging me and help.”

Bex sighed and pulled out one of the other chairs to take a seat. “It can’t be that big of a list, right? Just Jay and your dad and me?” She nudged him with her foot. “We should be able to tackle that.”

Will wordlessly fished a list out of his pocket and handed it over. There was the usual three names, yes, but underneath there was also Cindy and Chris, Lee Henry, Lucas, Max, and Annabelle. Underneath those names was a series of scribbled and crossed out notes as Will had clearly gone through—and rejected—quite a few ideas.

“You want to buy stuff for Chris and Cindy and the kids?” Bex looked up at him, more than a little surprised.

Will finally sat up and gave her a sheepish smile, his ears going pink. “Annabelle called me Uncle Will.”

And now she couldn’t even be mad anymore that he’d left his shopping so freaking late because that was just too freaking cute. “Okay, fine.” Bex stood and hunted down her keys. “Come on! You better hustle up if we’re going to do battle with the rest of the last minute shoppers.”

She bit back a laugh at his quiet, triumphantly whispered ‘yes!’ and herded him out to the car.

***

The mall was a nightmare.

Bex kept a grip on Will’s arm so he wouldn’t get lost as they made their way through the crowds. He had a bad habit of wandering off to check out things that caught his eye and even though he was fairly easy to spot in a crowd, they didn’t have the time spare for her to keep hunting him down.

They’d gone fairly simple for Chris and Cindy—fun chocolates and a nice bottle of wine. Things they wouldn’t often buy for themselves so it would be a nice treat.

Figuring out what to get the kids wasn’t as big a hurdle as Will seemed to think it would be. He had a good idea of what he wanted to get—he just kept second guessing himself. He wanted to add to the kids’ library which Bex assured him they would love. They were all big readers. They browsed the kids’ section together and Bex held back from making suggestions, just to see what he’d pick out.

He actually did a great job! Will had clearly been paying attention to the kids during their visits and managed to pick out a book for each of them that suited their interests.

“What’s Jay getting them?” Will asked as they checked out at the cash.

“He always manages to get some kind of group gift that gives Chris a heart attack,” Bex laughed. “I think the plan this year was Nerf guns?”

Will raised his eyebrows at her.

“Yeah,” Bex nodded. “He’s going to regret that when Annabelle destroys him.”

They left the bookstore and Will consulted his list. He’d picked up a bottle of Macallan for Pat when they were at the liquor store.

Bex was quite proud of herself for biting her tongue on her opinions about whether or not Pat deserved anything other than a pile of coal.

Although she thought even that would be pretty generous.

Anyway—after reviewing the list, it turned out he had Jay’s gift covered. Something he’d ordered online. And she’d made a large tray of cookies for him to take into Med a few days ago so his coworkers were covered.

Which left her present.

“Do you need help with the rest of the list?” she asked because she would help him pick out her own present if that meant they could get out of this mall alive.

“Ah, no, I think—” Will looked around at where they were in the mall and then frowned as he mulled. “Nope,” he finally said. “I’ve got it covered. And I want it to be a surprise so do you mind…”

Bex gave him a stern look. “I will meet you back here in half an hour, Will,” she said. “Please do not get lost because I will make mall security page you.”

“I don’t even get a text first?” Will laughed.

“Not on December 23rd!” Bex shot back.

He held up his hands, still laughing as he backed away, hurrying when she pointed at the big clock in the centre of the mall.

…now to kill thirty minutes.

Bex had finished all of her Christmas shopping awhile ago. She didn’t have to buy much since she made all the kids’ presents herself and a few others.

Personalized comic books for the kids—a tradition she’d started with Lee Henry and they all loved it. She hoped they never got too cool for it and they could keep it going for as long as they could.

She’d made holiday cookies for the gangs at 51 and 21 too which had covered the bulk of her extended family. Another long-standing Christmas tradition.

Since she didn’t have a list to finish, she decided to wander and window shop. A few stores in, one of the displays caught her eye.

Oh, that was…kind of hilarious? And could be a perfect—

But they didn’t exchange gifts.

Would it be too weird?

She didn’t want to make him feel bad when he didn’t have anything for her.

But it would just be a gag gift and those didn’t really count, right?

Bex debated with herself for another few seconds before saying screw it and going inside the store to make her purchase.

***

Bex had volunteered to work Christmas Eve at Molly’s so Chris could be home with Cindy and the kids. She’d be headed there on Christmas Day with Jay and Will and would be getting plenty of kiddo time then.

She was happy to give him the time that he missed out on so often because of his job. Plus, there was plenty of the usual gang hanging around and the general vibe of the bar was quite festive.

Will and Jay were both stuck working late, but came by when they were done. Bex had done some hardcore cajoling and convinced Jay to stay over at their place so he could be there right away for Christmas morning. He’d been having a such a hard time lately—she couldn’t fix everything for him, but she could surround him with festive fun and love.

Her brothers didn’t know it yet, but Bex had plans.

The two of them stayed and helped close up the bar, but then both of them passed out fairly quickly once they got home to the apartment.

Bex waited until Jay was snoring on the couch to dip into her room and dig everything out of her closet. Quickly, quietly, and carefully, she worked by the light of her phone to arrange things around their little tree.

She stepped back and took a look at her work with a satisfied nod before tiptoeing back to bed.

***

“Will!” Bex banged on his door. “Wake up!”

“Bex,” he groaned. “It’s…seven thirty in the morning! Go back to bed.”

“It’s Christmas!” She threw his door open and turned on the light, ignoring his protests as she bounded down the hall to the living room. “Jay!”

“Go. Away.”

“Jaaaaaaaaay!”

Bex dodged the pillow that was thrown her way and leaned over the back of the couch to poke Jay in his sides. “Get up, get up, get up!”

Jay slapped at her hands before giving up and grabbing her. Bex shrieked as he pulled her over the top of the couch and wrestled her to the ground. “We got home after two,” he grumbled as he gave her noogies. “How are you this cheerful? And don’t say because it’s Christmas.”

“But it’s—”

Her sentence dissolved into laughter as Jay tried to cover her mouth and Will came stumbling out of his room, bleary eyed.

“Why do we have to be awake now?” Will asked, stepping over the two of them to collapse into the arm chair. “We’re adults.” He eyed their ongoing struggle on the floor. “Allegedly.”

Bex elbowed Jay in the stomach and wiggled away, scrambling to her feet. “Because it’s present time! And look—” She waved a hand toward the tree. “Santa came.”

Will and Jay stared at her and then peered at the tree where three stockings lay, one with each of their names embroidered on them. A parcel in shiny red wrapping paper lay beside each stocking while the other presents they’d all bought for each other sat behind them.

Jay let out a little bemused laugh before giving her a sideways look. “Bex,” he said. “Did you seriously set out Santa stuff for us?”

Did she?

Absolutely.

There was no denying that they’d had some rough patches this year and Jay was still going through it. So yeah, she thought they could use some extra Christmas cheer.

Was she going to admit that she’d done it?

Absolutely not.

“Me?” She pressed a hand against her chest. “Jay Halstead, are you questioning the magic of Christmas?”

“Maybe he just can’t believe he made the nice list,” Will quipped. Jay shot him a look and Bex laughed.

“Okay,” she clapped her hands together. “Stockings and Santa presents first. Then I’ll make breakfast and we can open everything else?”

“Well, we’re awake now,” Jay said, slightly less grumbly than before. “So why not?”

He settled back on the couch and Bex distributed the stockings.

Each one had a pair of festive socks, chocolates and candy, some of each of their favourite shower products, an orange which was a tradition Cindy had brought to the family, the little bottle of lock de-icer that Jay was always on her to keep in her bag, glow in the dark band-aids that Will would definitely get a kick out of, and some colour changing pens, just because.

After stockings, she handed out the red-wrapped Santa presents.

“Bex…” Will had his resting on his lap and was looking at her pensively. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know you’re not about to question the magic, Will,” she said, pointing a serious finger at him.

“As long as Santa didn’t go overboard,” Jay chimed in. He was also looking a bit serious and she rolled her eyes (affectionately) at the two of them.

“Santa was very sensible,” she said. “At least I assume he was because I have no idea what’s in here.”

“Okay, fine,” Will laughed and started opening up his present which was a new pair of running shoes he’d had his eye on…and had been on sale for a super good deal last month.

“Oh, just what I wanted!” he exclaimed. “Thanks, Santa!”

Jay opened up his to find the next novel by his favourite author that he’d been dying to read, but was impatiently waiting until it came out in paperback to buy. “What! No,” he whipped his head up to frown at Bex. “This is too—”

“Pretty sure Santa had a coupon for that,” she said as she dug into her own gift. “Oh, look! New baking tins! Santa knows me so well!”

Will and Jay laughed at her and then got up for hugs. She was happy to see them both smiling so much—even if those smiles were still a bit tired. “Pancakes?” she asked and was met with enthusiastic yesses.

They plowed their way through a truly astounding amount of pancakes, bacon, and hot beverages before returning to the tree to open their gifts to each other. They’d be doing a second round of gifts once they headed over to Chris and Cindy’s later.

Her actual presents for them both were well received. She’d made them each a painting this year. Will’s was a view of the street he used to live on in Brooklyn. “Bex!” He looked a little shocked when he first opened it, but then a big smile quickly grew across his face. “This is amazing,” he said. “Exactly like I remember it.”

Jay’s was of his favourite park in Chicago—one she knew he visited often when he needed to have some quiet time. Now he had a little slice of that view for his room at home. “I love it,” he said quietly, smiling at her.

Will had picked up more art supplies for her. He’d clearly checked out her stash and had managed to pick up quite a few things she really needed. “Thanks, Will,” she said, touched.

He had a happy little grin at that and it only grew when Jay was equally pleased with his gift of tickets to go see a hockey game together.

Jay laughed as he handed over his gift to Will. “You might as well open this now,” he said. “Great minds think alike.”

Will started chuckling too when he opened his gift to reveal…another pair of hockey tickets. Thankfully for a different date.

Bex received her present from Jay next. “Jay,” she gasped, staring down at the one year membership to the Art Institute of Chicago. “This is too amazing! Thank you!”

After another round of hugs, they all took their time getting ready to head over to Cindy and Chris’s place. Will and Jay rode together since they were stopping off for their perfunctory visit with Pat first. Bex was headed right over to Cindy and Chris’s.

She just had a stop to make first.

***

Bex dashed up the steps of the precinct and headed in to the front desk. A large box of cookies was enough to bribe Sergeant Kilbourne into letting her sneak downstairs.

Mouse was working away at his desk when she made it into the basement.

“Pssst!”

His head snapped up and he whirled around in his chair. “Bex?”

“Merry Christmas, Mouse!” She hopped over to sit on the desk beside him and handed over his present.

Mouse frowned down at the neatly wrapped parcel in his hands. “What uh, we don’t usually, uh—” He looked up at her in confusion. “I didn’t get you anything…”

“Oh, no, it’s not—it’s just something funny that I saw when I was out shopping with Will,” she reassured him. “I thought it would make you laugh. It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He still looked a bit confused, but opened the present anyway. He unfolded the apron and got a good look at the front. “Bex,” Mouse snorted. “This is…”

“Ridiculous and yet amazing and you don’t know how you’ve lived without it in your life this whole time?” she suggested.

Mouse held the apron up to his chest showing off the image of a cartoon mouse wearing a chef’s outfit holding up a piece of cheese with a snooty expression on its face. The caption read ‘This cheese is no gouda.’

“Exactly,” Mouse grinned at her. “I’ll treasure it always.”

“Fantastic,” Bex smiled back at him. “Glad to hear it. How’s your day been here so far?”

“Nothing very exciting up until now,” Mouse shrugged. “Slogging through some files. Getting caught up on paperwork.”

“Sounds like you need some sustenance to get through the rest of your day.” She pulled a small tin out of her bag and handed it over as well.

Mouse’s eyes lit up. “More Christmas cookies?”

She nodded. “I heard the other ones got devoured pretty quickly.”

“It was a baked goods massacre,” Mouse agreed. His smile faded. “Now you’ve brought me two things and I didn’t get you anything.”

“The cookies don’t count—”

“The cookies always count—”

“If you really want to give me something, I have an idea,” she said and Mouse perked up in his seat. “Come over to Cindy and Chris’s for dinner when you’re done your shift.”

She waved off his protests, talking quickly.

“I know Jay already asked you and you said no like you always do, but I don’t know how many times we have to tell you that you’re part of the family, Mouse. We always want you there. You’re not intruding.” She knows she’s making a face on that last word, but she can’t help it. It annoys Bex that he ever thinks that.

His face was a conflicting mixture of pleased yet uneasy. She played her last card.

“Jay’s still having a hard time with everything,” she said quietly. “It would mean a lot to him if you were able to come. I think he needs all of his people, you know?”

Mouse sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

And that was the closest to a yes they’d ever gotten so she’d take that as progress.

“I’ll text you the address,” she said, even though she knew he knew where they lived. Better to not leave any excuses. “And no matter what, you’re coming to Jay’s tomorrow, right? Boxing Day sloth fest?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he nodded, lips quirking at the edges.

She squeezed his shoulder before hopping off the desk and heading out to join the chaos of Herrmann Family Christmas.

***

The kids went wild went she came through the door—mostly because now they could open the rest of their presents.

“Where’ve you been?” Chris demanded, bringing her in for a hug.

“Trying to work one last Christmas miracle,” she said, squeezing him back.

“Did it work?”

She grinned at him. “I’ll let you know.” Bex spotted Will and Jay pulling into the drive and turned to the kids who were vibrating behind Chris. “Who’s ready for presents?”

Chris groaned as they went wild all over again. “Thank you for that.”

“Aunt privileges,” Bex sniffed. “Riling them is in the job description.”

Once Will and Jay were inside, they all gathered around the tree and did the second round of gift giving. Chris and Cindy were pleased by the amount of books the kids received and extra happy for the amount of quiet time it gifted them as the kids flaked out around the living room reading while the adults started prepping for dinner.

Just as they were getting ready to eat, the doorbell rang.

Chris and Cindy glanced at each other. “You expecting anyone else?” he asked and she shook her head.

Bex caught a glimpse of a silhouette through the frosted window in the door and smiled. “I think Jay should answer it.”

He sent her a questioning look, but headed over to open the door. “Mouse?” His excited cheer rang through the house. “I didn’t think you were coming, man! This is awesome!” Jay grabbed Mouse in a bear hug, thumping him on the back and dragged him inside.

Mouse had a Santa hat on and a shy smile on his face as he saw everyone gathered in the living room, watching them. “I was told you might have room for one more?” he shrugged. “If that’s okay?”

“Always,” Cindy said warmly, moving forward to grab his coat and welcome him inside. “Lee Henry, set another place please!”

Introductions were made and Annabelle stared at Mouse suspiciously. “Mouse is a weird name,” she said. “Did you make that up?”

“Well, uh, everyone’s name had to be made up at some point, right? Like one day, someone said I like the name Anna and I like the name Belle, but wouldn’t it be even better if they were one name together?”

Annabelle thought that over before nodding seriously. “Come on,” she took his hand, bringing him to the dining room. “You should sit beside me.”

Mouse looked over at Bex, slightly panicked and she thought she should help him out a bit. “Annabelle,” she called out. “You should have Uncle Jay sit with you too.”

“Oh, yes,” Annabelle agreed, grabbing Jay with her other hand. “Good idea, Auntie Bex.”

Bex laughed at the two men being dragged by a tiny child and smiled to herself.

This was turning out to be a pretty excellent holiday after all.

Click here to read IT'S DECEMBER 23RD, WILL!!! on ao3:

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sjhhemmings · 4 months

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$50 please.

greg ‘mouse’ gerwitz x fem!reader

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR 🎆

warnings: alcohol, kissing, fluff

“You know what? I’m gonna do it.” You say confidently as you throw back another shot.

“Oh, Y/N, that’s not what I-” Erin begins but stops as she sees you’ve already walked away.

“Too late. It’s time to let her go.” Adam says half teasing half seriously.

“They grow up so fast don’t they?” Alvin adds pretending to wipe a tear from under his eye.

The group of colleagues from Chicago PD’s intelligence unit sat back and watched as their shy, introverted, and currently drunk intern walked up to their tech guy.

“$20 she chickens out.” Adam spoke up again as they all wait in anticipation for what’s about to happen.

“$50 she doesn’t.” Kim says with faith.

Running a hand through your hair as you approach your long time office crush, you notice the all too familiar nervous feeling enter your stomach. Not today. Quickly grabbing another shot from a random person at the bar, the burn that rolls down your throat was exactly what you needed. Taking another breath you continue on your original path.

“Mouse,” you say catching both his and Detective Halstead’s attention once you approach them at the bar.

“Y/N, hi-” he says before being quickly interrupted with your lips on his.

After a few seconds without him kissing you back, you pull away.

Pressing a few fingers against your lips as you cannot believe what you’ve just done, you look at Mouse’s shocked expression with blushing cheeks and wide eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. That was a mistake. I- um. excuse me.” You say embarrassed as ever and walking away.

“Y/N, wait.” He says grabbing your arm opting for you turn around.

“No, I get it. Can we just pretend this never happened?” You ask overwhelmed with regret.

Cupping your face with both of his hands, Mouse places one of the most delicate pecks on your lips only parting slightly before you pull him in again, this time more aggressive.

Finally pulling away when someone clears their throat, you touch your lips again but this time with lust.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks with his hands still on your face.

“You read my mind.”

*Everyone’s reactions*

Erin: “Well, that turned out better than I expected.”

Adam: “I feel like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t, but I can’t tear my eyes away.”

Kim: *clears throat*, “$50 please.”

Jay: “Atta boy.”

#one chicago #chicago pd one shot #chicago pd series #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd #greg mouse gerwitz #mouse #greg gerwitz #mouse x reader #greg gerwitz x reader #fluffy #molly’s #cuteee #erin lindsay #adam ruzek #kim burgess #jay halstead

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 12 days

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Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz (ft platonic!Jay Halstead): Not The Pizza Guy

You swung the door open money in hand and paused at the man in front of you. “You're not the pizza guy.” He was leaning on the doorframe, his jacket damp from the night rain. His face, which had been furrowed in worry, was now caught between shock and disbelief. Your eyes fall to the badge clipped on his hip. You had thought that knock was a little loud and on the cop side. A smile comes to your lips, “You must be Jay,”

“Yeah, I must be.” He agreed. You nodded at him and gestured into the apartment.

“Did you want to come in? Greg is just in the shower.” It is strange for Jay to hear Mouse’s legal name. It’s even stranger to see you standing in front of him, all smiles, dressed in one of Mouse’s Star Wars sweatshirts and little else. You don’t wait for him to answer as you head back in. Jay hesitated before following you in and closing the door behind him. The living room was empty. Jay barely sees your ponytail rounding the corner as you call out Mouse’s name.

Jay feels out of sorts. He had come over because he had been worried about his friend. It seemed like Mouse was falling back into old bad habits. He was blowing off team outings, constantly distracted by his phone, and had seemingly been in his own world. Jay's first and only thought had been that his friend was struggling with PTSD. He had feared that Mouse may have been slipping back into his former drug use. He had come intent on doing an intervention if need be. He had been planning what he would say, the options he had found, and even prepared to move Mouse in with him if he needed the extra support.

Now he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Mouse rounds the corner in sweats, toweling off his hair. He had clearly been alerted to Jay’s arrival. He had the grace to look guilty. “Hey buddy,” You walked back in now sporting a pair of black leggings under Mouse’s hoodie. There is a moment of quiet before another knock sounds at the door again.

“Now that’s got to be the pizza.” You turn on your heel walking between the boys to head for the door.

“Baby, for the sake of my peace of mind, please check who it is before you open the door this time. This is Chicago, not your small town.” You look back at your boyfriend smiling contritely.

“Yeah, right, sorry.” They watched you head to the door. There is a brief pause and then, “You're not a murderer, right? You’re just the pizza guy?” Mouse rubs his hands over his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Her lack of self-preservation is going to take years off my life.”

Before Jay can ask Mouse anything, you come back into the room with the pizza and a stack of paper plates. You give one to Mouse and then offer another to Jay. Soon you are all sitting in the living room eating pizza and the ball game is on the TV. Jay can’t focus on it and instead spends his time analyzing you and his old war buddy. Jay watches as Mouse throws his arm across the back of the couch and you lean into his side. You place a napkin on his leg, and he smiles down at you. There is a lightness in his friend, a warmth, a happiness that Jay hasn’t seen in a long time. He feels ridiculous for being so off base with how his friend was doing.

And so fucking grateful he was wrong.

Jay lingered after everyone had finished the food. You offer to make a pot of coffee and the boys accept. Mouse watches as you disappear into the kitchen. “She seems like a nice girl.” Mouse’s lips form an unconscious smile.

“She is.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me man? I was worried about you.” Mouse rubs the back of his neck scratching gently. He lifts his eyes from where they had been trained on the floor.

“I know, I’m sorry. It was selfish but I just wanted to keep her to myself for a while. She’s so innocent. Untouched by the dark side of humanity.” Jay can see the struggle in Mouse’s eyes. The self-doubt and question of if he was worthy of something good.

Someone good.

Jay had seen it many times looking back at him in the mirror. “Her parents are still together, from a small town- never even locked her front door before she moved to Chicago- can you believe that? And she just-” Mouse threw his hands up as if he was trying to get a grasp on his own good fortune, “She walked into a cafe and right into my life. Just like that. Just like that man. I can’t even believe it. She's not anything like what I would have picked for myself.” Mouse chuckles, “She is so technologically challenged, it’s insane. I thought you guys at the precinct were bad, but it is nothing compared to her. And I can’t help but find it strangely adorable.”

Jay put a hand on Mouse’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m happy for you buddy, really, I am. You deserve it. But you can’t hide her away forever. And everybody is going to want to meet her.”

“I know.”

You come in holding a cup of coffee in each hand and creamer, and sugar tucked under your arm. You offer the cups to both men. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee.” You say in explanation and Jay looks amused as he takes the sugar from your arm and pours some into his cup.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mouse takes a drink of his already doctored-up coffee. He meets eyes with Jay before taking a deep breath. “Hey, the intelligence team is getting together at Molly’s tomorrow night...Do you want to go? Meet everyone.” You smile brightly pressing a kiss to Mouse's cheek.

“I’d love to meet your family.”

#chicago pd #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz x you #greg gerwitz imagine #jay halstead

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aromanticbuck · 2 months

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Brandon "Mouse" McHolland (for @highclasstrashposts, who did most of this worldbuilding, honestly)

In the summer of 1985, a basket was left in front of Firehouse 51. Inside, there was a baby, and a blanket, and a note pinned to the fleece. There was no explanation, no number to call, no indication that whoever had left him there would return.

take care of Brandon for me

There weren't many people to take care of him - between Herrmann's new marriage and Boden's crumbling one, the number of homes he could go to was slim. But it would be worse if he was put into the system, being passed from one foster home to another without any kind of stability. If they wanted to follow the single instruction left in the note, and take care of the child that was left in their care, he needed a good life, someone constant in it, a support system he could always rely on no matter where life took him.

So, even if Mouch was the one who took him in, gave him food and a roof, it really did take a village to raise a child. While his name legally became Brandon McHolland, he had an entire firehouse to call family. He had uncles and cousins, even if none of them were related to him by blood. He had as many people to go to for advice as he could imagine, and plenty of space to roam around the firehouse when he started walking and saying more than babbled syllables.

When he still had trouble repeating a few names he heard around the firehouse, with the ch coming out closer to sh, he got his own silly nickname that wasn't far off from his adopted father's. By the time his age reached double digits, he answered to Mouse more than he answered to Brandon, and he almost preferred it that way. Even if they weren't family biologically, having a name, no matter how silly, that could be easily mistaken for another felt important to him. It gave him a connection to the most important person in his life beyond the same address and last name.

"No one cares more about abandoned babies than me."

[ request a moodboard ]

#mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #cpd #chicago pd #cfire #chicago fire #one chicago #adopted!mouse au #cass tag #alex does moodboards #highclasstrashposts #yes this gets the adopted au tag #who do you think named him brandon and left him somewhere safe???#anyway i'm thinking about this au a normal amount

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dandelionfairyyy · 7 months

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Messy G. G.

Summary: just two lost souls finally finding peace in each others company

Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x fem!reader

Wordcount: 7,193 (I’m sorry 😭)

Triggerwaning: 16+ because of slight mention of: blood, torture, GSWs, panic attacks, use of drugs, underweight, mental struggle, trauma and death as well as explicit described sexual acts and possible incorrect description of certain things/feelings and possible writing mistakes

A/N: this piece turned out longer than I expected but I hope you still like it. And as a disclaimer or something: just to make it clear, I didn’t experienced any of this so I apologize for incorrect descriptions.

Red-stained water flows from your hands as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your face bears more stains and you have to close your eyes for a moment and breathe deeply to push back the memory as you continue to wash the red from your skin.

It's like dejà vu. Every time you clean up after painting, you feel transported back to the night three months ago.

There was red everywhere, as if one of your colours had tipped over, but your Ma had been clear when she had forbidden you to paint in the living room. And you had kept to it.

Your gaze wandered through the room of chaos and your breath was taken away when you spotted someone.

"Dad!"

You go down on your knees in front of him, pressing your hands on the gunshot wound in his chest from which blood was still running. Tears now ran down your cheeks as you remembered your mum and siblings.

"Where's Ma? And Olivia? And Wesley? Dad!"

Your dad made a strained groan and mumbled something. You moved your ear closer to his mouth and heard, "They took her... They wanted... Documents... Ma doesn't know anything about it... Bank... 273B..." You couldn't make sense of it, to you it all sounded like the confused ramblings of a dying man, but soon you realised that he was actually serious.

Agitated, you wash the red colour and salty tears from your cheeks. Your hands clench around the ceramics of your sink in an attempt to push back the panic attack.

They cannot hurt you. They cannot hurt you.

They know nothing about you...

With shaky hands, you open the small medicine compartment next to the mirror.

Shit!

You had smoked the last one the day before yesterday... frustrated, you slam the door again and grab your fanny pack with your money before heading to your new friend Johnny. The shivering slowly subsides. The cold winter air seems to help.

"Hey Sugar," he greets you with his typical flirty smirk.

"Quit it. I'm not in the mood. I need another five...'

Johnny looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "When we met you didn't want to know anything about the drugs and now you're one of my most loyal customers? What the hell happened to you?"

"Let's not talk about it," you suggest and take a few dollar notes out of your pocket.

Johnny presses the little bag into your hand and takes the money from you. "Hey, if you ever need something stronger, let me know."

"Don't give me any ideas."

Johnny playfully raises his hands defensively. "Just an offer." He looks at you again with concern. You've known each other for a few years now, travelled in the same circles and he's taken you to his heart. But you've only really had closer contact since the incident. That's why he was worried about you now. You hadn't told him what happened, you'd just asked him three months ago for something to quiet the mind and let you sleep. "Sugar, there's a party at one of my boys' on Friday night. Do you want to come?"

"I'll think about it." With those words, you turn around and make your way back to your little flat. Your flat... It belonged to your parents. It was bought as an investment at the time. Along with two others. For you and your siblings, should you want to move out. Now you have three flats and a house, as well as a flourishing family business worth millions, and you don't know what to do with it. And that's just what you know.

When you check the letterbox, there is another letter from your family's lawyer. You know what it says. That you should accept or reject the inheritance listed. That you have to take care of so many things you never wanted to worry about...

Closing the flat door with one foot, you make your way to the couch.

It doesn't take long and you have your "medicine" in stock again and you reach for the lighter on the small table.

The herbal taste spreads through your mouth after the first hit. After the third, you finally start to feel the marijuana. The comforting blanket wraps around your thoughts and they finally quiet down. The traumatic images from three months ago blur into a simple mist in your mind and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Knowing that hunger will soon set in, you make your way to the kitchen with the joint between your lips and take a look in the fridge.

Margarita, your parents' housekeeper, who is now looking after you, has put something in the fridge for you. Reading the little message lying next to it, you start to heat it up in the pan.

Because I know you won't cook anything anyway, I took the liberty of preparing something for you. You really should eat more, child.

You smirk.

Margarita has been working for your family for more than twenty years, taking care of the household and you and your siblings as children. Now there is only you left for her to take care of. You take another drag and these thoughts also fall completely silent.

Instead, you focus on the food.

Margarita's food was always incredible, but with the effect of the marijuana it is even better. Smiling contentedly, you eat in complete silence before fatigue sets in soon after.

Yawning, you plod barefoot from the kitchen back to the couch.

Next to the pillow lies the little sheep that you have had as a cuddly toy since birth. If someone asked you, you would deny that you still sleep with a cuddly toy, but since what happened three months ago, the little sheep has given you comfort when no one else could.

You lovingly hug the fluffy thing to you and finally close your eyes to fall asleep shortly afterwards.

Your flat actually consists of three rooms. A bedroom, a study and a living room.

But two of the three rooms are empty. The walls are bare and there is not a single piece of furniture in them. Only in the living room is a couch where you sleep and a table next to it. Otherwise, the boxes that Margarita packed for you from the house are standing around. You haven't even opened most of them. Everything in them reminds you of something that is no longer there.

Friday morning you finally stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself. You have lost a lot of weight after the incident, but thanks to Margarita, who forced you to eat more in the beginning, your clothes start to fit again.

You no longer wear your belts in the last hole, your T-shirts no longer hang down like sacks. Your hair looks fuller and healthier again.

Maybe you should make a change?

After a moment's thought, you call Margarita. And only thirty minutes later she is standing in front of your flat with hair dye.

"Are you sure, dear?" she asks in her Russian accent for the third time and lowers the scissors again. "Your beautiful hair..." When you were little, she made you pigtails every morning. Sometimes one, sometimes two. Sometimes braided, sometimes not. And every day she admired your full and soft hair.

By now you can do most of the braids on your own. But in the last few months you have neglected yourself. This is also noticeable in your hair.

"Yes, Margarita. I'm sure of it. And don't worry. It will grow back anyway..." you reply with a grin and watch as she takes a strand of your hair, applies the scissors and squints. You hear the sound of the scissors cutting through your hair. There is no turning back now.

Three hours later, you're standing in front of the mirror again and looking at your new hairstyle.

The dark brown has turned into a light blonde and your hair is much shorter. Before it almost reached your bottom, now it doesn't even reach your shoulder. The end just hovers over it. You didn't know how heavy hair can actually be.

"Wow...", you say and run your fingers through your new hair. You part your hair in the middle, make a side parting, and finally bites your lower lip with an admiring smile.

"You look great, love," she confirms to you and as you turn to thank her, she sees for the first time the glow in your eyes again for three months.

She hopes so much that you will slowly get back on your feet. You are like a daughter to her. She has watched you grow up and looked after you when your parents were busy again. So it hurts her heart every time to see you the way you are. You are lost. Lost in a world where you don't belong, where you never wanted to belong.

How she would love to take this burden off your shoulders, but she could not. All she can do is stand by your side and help when it is needed. But first you have to find your footing again.

After another look in the mirror, you decide to go to that party Johnny invited you to. While Margarita tidies up the flat again, you carelessly go through the boxes of expensive clothes.

Finally, you're back in front of the mirror in a pair of ripped jeans and a crop top. You look at yourself with a smile.

"You look like an angel," Margarita says as she leans against the doorframe, watching you.

You would not describe yourself as an angel, but as beautiful.

It has been a long time since you felt yourself to be beautiful. You see in the eyes of your old friend and housekeeper the hope that you wanted to feel so much. You no longer want to be this wreck, this shadow of yourself. But you are now in this new world where you never wanted to belong. And you don't know how to find your footing in it.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and thank Margarita again with a kiss on the cheek. You still ask her for one last favour, because you have to get to the party somehow.

"Sugar, what a surprise. I didn't expect to see you." "Well, if you want, I can leave again..." you joke.

Johnny smiles and grabs your hand to pull you into the house and his arms. "You look hot by the way", he whispers in your ear and places a kiss on your temple.

"Whatever," you dismiss the compliment with a little laugh and let yourself join the group of other partygoers.

"Hey guys, this is Y/N," Johnny introduces you and drops onto one of the couches. He pulls you with him onto his lap.

"You wish, Johnny. Keep your hands off. I am your customer, not your girlfriend, Sugar." You emphasise the pet name, which he always uses for you, especially.

"Worth a try, isn't it?"

You let your gaze wander around the room. Apart from Johnny, there are four other men sitting in the room. spread out the couches. "You call this a party? Or is this just the warm-up round?" you finally ask.

"I didn't know if you'd really come and how much of a party animal you are." Had he really done that just for you?

"Since when do you care how I am?" you ask him, poking him in the side.

"Some people I just like to take care of.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and don't respond further to his comment. Instead you say, "You didn't answer my question?"

"Hey Timothy, send out a message that there's a party here at short notice," Johnny gives to one of the other guests.

"You got it, boss."

"You'll have your party in an hour," Johnny promises and you smile. He leans forward a little and finally presses his lips to yours. You allow it for a few seconds before you release and place a finger on his lips, shaking your head.

"Nice try." You turn away from him and disappear into the bathroom.

A few deep breaths, a little water over your forearms and you're all better.

When you come back, you don't sit down next to Johnny again, but on the sofa opposite him. You need some space between you and him.

You like Johnny, he's a good friend, you can count on him, but he wants something from you. He makes no secret of it, but he doesn't understand that you don't want anything from him.

Now you are sitting next to a lanky young man, about your age, maybe a little older. With your back against the armrest, you casually put your legs diagonally across his, eliciting an overwhelmed "oh... okay" from him before you say, "Johnny didn't introduce us. I'm Y/N." You reach out your hand to him.

He takes it and introduces himself as "Mouse". You look at him in amazement. "Mouse?"

"Actually it's Greg, Mouse is a ridiculous nickname, but I've come to terms with it. Nice to meet you, Y/N."

"Nice to meet you too."

As Johnny promised, less than an hour later there was a party going on in the house. Music booms muffled from the big room into the smaller one where you are still sitting on the couch with Mouse. He's thawed out enough by now that he had his hands on your thighs to keep your legs from sliding down.

You feel Johnny's jealous gaze on you, but try to ignore it as much as possible.

"Hey Mouse. Are you also part of Johnny's business?" you finally ask curiously. To be honest, he doesn't really look like a dealer, more like a customer.

"I would rather say business partner.”

You look at him curiously.

"He introduces me to people who I then work for. I'm a computer crack."

"Oh. That's cool. I don't have anything to do with it. I'm totally incompetent at it. My talents lie elsewhere."

"It's not that hard. What do you do?"

"Y/N has divine hands...", Johnny comments and one of the men laughs quietly in the background.

"You bet," you hear and roll your eyes. Thanks to a former girlfriend, you now have that reputation gone...

"So I'm an artist," you clarify. "Johnny also introduces me to people I work for. I've painted one or two forgeries of famous works of art. There's even one hanging in the museum here in Chicago." You wink at him with a proud grin. "But most of the works are my own."

"Are you selling them?"

"Some. I was organising an exhibition where I could sell the works. Sort of a silent auction." You shrug your shoulders as if to dismiss the subject.

"What happened to that?"

"Something's come up," you dodge the question and instead reach for his beer bottle to take a sip of it.

As soon as the tingling liquid hits your taste buds, you contort your face.

"Yuck. How can you drink that. That's super disgusting."

Mouse laughs and takes the bottle from you again to drink a sip from it himself.

For the rest of the evening you talk about different things. It feels easy with him, like you can finally be you again. As if you had found an anchor to swim back to the surface. But you push back the budding sense of security. People come and go all the time. You've had to learn that the hard way. And they always want something from you.

"Hey, what's with the sad face all of a sudden?" asks Mouse in a soft voice, lifting your head with his index finger under your chin until you look at him. You have the feeling that he is really interested in your answer. It has been a long time since a person was really interested in you. So far, they've all wanted something from you in return. To buy something, to borrow money, to introduce someone to them, to sleep with them. But Mouse seems to be interested in you and you alone.

Tears come to your eyes and you have to take a deep breath. You put your head back and have to blink a few times until you can control yourself again.

"Do you know when the bad thoughts get too loud? And you don't know where you are, what's real and what's imaginary? What exactly is your mind playing you now and what is really there?"

"That pretty much sums up what I went through some time ago."

The tears were back and burning in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks.

"Have you figured out how to get rid of it?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. But it gets easier with time, you learn to live with it. I can promise you that." You nod and look at him with a sad smile.

"God. I'm so pathetic.

"Hey, don't say that. You're amazing. From what I've heard of you so far." With more affectionate words he tries to make you feel better and the only appropriate response that comes to your mind is to kiss him.

You lean forward and simply place your lips on his, silencing him.

You sense that he is surprised and overwhelmed by your reaction, which is why you withdraw again.

"I’m sorry," you say apologetically and pinch your lips together a little. Actually, you're not sorry, it felt too good.

"Don't be," he replies now, putting down his beer bottle and pulling you closer again.

His hands on your cheeks, he puts his lips on yours again and begins to kiss you.

You change position a little until you are sitting astride his lap. His hands now on your back and in your hair, your arms around his neck, your hands also running through his hair, you kiss each other deeply.

You dare to let go. You feel that it's okay, that it's the right thing to do, you just let go and the tears trickle down your cheeks while Mouse holds you, is your anchor to reality, so that you don't get lost in the whirlpool. The images you constantly see in front of you just pass by this time, have no effect on you, because Mouse's is stronger. You feel light, safe and secure in his arms, even though you hardly know him.

Your kiss becomes more intimate, more demanding and you receive his tongue with yours. Then your head is empty.

There is nothing more. Just you and this stranger who has this incredible effect on you.

Finally, you break away breathlessly and just look into each other's eyes. You notice that he can't hold eye contact for long, but that's okay. You know... you have experienced first-hand the effects trauma can have. Your fingers begin to trace his contours.

He makes you feel like you've never felt before. You don't have to say a word. It is as if your looks communicate everything.

Gently he wipes your tears from your cheeks. You nod slightly at his questioning look. Yes, you feel much better now.

"Thank you," you form with your lips. A small smirk settles on his and you lean forward again to kiss him once more. This time it's different. You no longer seek a hold on him, this time it's a "thank you".

Your kiss is gentle, careful and sensual.

If someone had told you this morning what was happening, you would have said that they were nuts. You still can't quite understand how this one person can have such power over you. That this one person can simply silence your thoughts like that.

Time passed, you're sitting next to Mouse again. Your legs crossed his as Johnny brought you not only a cup of Coke but also a joint. You throw him a kissing hand.

After lighting the cigarette, you hold it out to Mouse, offering it to him. He takes a drag while you hold the joint before you take one too.

You blow out the smoke upwards with relish.

A few puffs later, you lean forward again a little until your lips are almost touching and you inhale his smoke before exhaling it back upwards.

"Hey Y/N...", you hear someone's voice before the owner enters the room, just as you inhale Mouse's smoke one more time. "..Johnny said you were here... And apparently you're busy."

You make a grumbling noise, detach yourself from Mouse and blow the smoke back upwards. "Just what I need..." you mutter, before turning to face her. Even through the wonderful fog of the Weed, you are pissed off by the presence of this horrible person. Inconspicuously, you squeeze Mouse's hand tightly, again looking for support, before finally letting go and standing up.

"Genevieve..." you reply, looking at her with a fake smile.

"It's good to see you again. Hey. I'm sorry about what happened."

"Please, don't talk about it and say what you want." Your voice is cold and distant.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. I know it was not correct of me."

You laugh in disbelief. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone, Genevieve. That's not something you just shrug off with an 'I'm sorry'."

"I know that. That's why I want to make it up to you. Tell me what to do."

"Would you do what you put me through?" She remains silent and you snort snidely before taking another step back. You need distance between you. "Of course you wouldn't. After all, then your great image would be tarnished. The great benefactor Genevieve..." you scoff, before adding: "You make me sick."

You see her expression stiffen. "And you are a slut! You slept with my boyfriend even though you knew he was MY boyfriend!" There she is, the real Genevieve, as she lives and breathes. You knew she had this side in her, but you never expected to feel it yourself.

Your hands clench into fists and you feel your fingernails digging into your skin. The pain helps you to stay calm as much as possible.

"Excuse me? That was some pretty lie he breathed into your ear. I told him I didn't want anything from him! Do you think he cared? You know what he told me? That you were too innocent, too willing. Too boring. I slapped him and told him not to talk about my best friend like that in front of me. He then tried to rape me! So much for your perfect Richard and the evil evil Y/N!", you rage.

Shocked, she looks at you before regaining her composure. "Liar!" she hisses, then looks at Mouse. "Have fun with that bitch. Make sure she doesn't end up cheating on you with your best friend."

You gasp in indignation and shock at her impudence. Your former best friend turns around and disappears again.

One more time you have to take a deep breath.

"Wow... that was intense," you hear Mouse suddenly standing behind you. You notice how you immediately become calmer as soon as you feel him behind you.

"Welcome to the young high society of Chicago," you murmur and turn to him. "I'm sorry you overheard that."

"Hev. I want you to know that I don't believe a word she says."

You smile sadly. "Then you're the first. Even Johnny thinks I'm the evil whore in the story."

"Well. I think you're just lost and need someone to believe in you again."

"And you're saying that someone is you?"

"Maybe," Mouse replies with a grin.

You have to laugh and gently bite your lower lip, slightly swollen from your kiss, as you look up at him.

"Are you coming?"

"Where?"

"Get some fresh air, go to the other side of the world, or go to a diner and eat something. Just get away from here."

He takes your hand in his again and intertwines his fingers with yours.

"Where are you going?" he just asks.

You feel a tingle in your stomach as he smiles at you and you have to swallow.

You say goodbye to Johnny with a simple wave before leaving the house with Mouse by the hand.

A car on the other side of the road flashes its lights as soon as you are out of the front gate and you roll your eyes, while you mumble, "Margarita…”

Nevertheless, you walk with Mouse towards the black car with the tinted windows.

"Wow... are you super rich or something?" asks Mouse wryly.

"Please don't remind me,” you only reply, as Peter, your family's long-time driver, gets out and holds the door open.

"Miss Y/L/N," he greets you with a nod as you tell Mouse to get in. "Hey Pete," you say back and get into the car as well.

"Where to, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Hannah's Diner," you reply and Peter nods before pulling out of the parking space.

Next to you, you sense that Mouse would like to bombard you with a thousand questions, but he refrains.

You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder.

"I hate it," you admit.

In response, Mouse squeezes your hand.

You never wanted your family's money. Even though you got a lot of pocket money, you never touched it. Since you were 16 and allowed to work, you worked in a diner and earned your few bucks. Everything you bought since then, you always bought with your own money.

Until the incident three months ago, you worked at Hannah's Diner. But since then you have hardly left your flat. Hannah, who has become a friend over time, has been there for you and said that you can take as much time off as you want and when you are ready and willing, you can start working for her again.

Together with Mouse, you sit down at one of the tables and wait for Hannah to come

It was already late, but the diner was open 24/7. "Okay. What do you want?" you ask, "it's on me." Seeing the look on his face, you add, "Do me a favour and let me pay." After another look into your eyes, he nods. "Okay."

You are suddenly absolutely exhausted. The encounter with Genevieve has robbed you of all the strength you had today.

"Y/N. Good to see you again," you are finally greeted by Hannah with a smile. You return it and stand up to be pulled into a hug.

"How are you?" she asks, looking at you with concern.

You shrug your shoulders. "I'm still alive..."

Hannah's smile turns sad and compassionate. "Well, that's a start." She puts a hand on your shoulder as you sit back down across from Mouse. "What can I get you two?"

Once your milkshakes and fries are brought, Mouse begins to tell. "I was in the army, 3rd Battalion 75th Ranger Regiment. I did two tours in Afghanistan. When I came back, my best friend who I met on deployment and I were a total mess. There are things I don't want to think about anymore, there are things that are constantly in my head. You learn to live with it. The images eventually become less deterrent."

"What happened?" you ask cautiously.

"During my last tour... there was a convoy... Jay and I were in the first Humvee and then..." You can see him bobbing his leg restlessly as he tells the story, his fingers drumming on the table. "I thought that was it for me. Jay and I are about the only ones who got out of there alive."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." You are silent for a moment and take a deep sip of your Strawberry milkshake before you decide to tell him about you.

"My family is... was...", you correct yourself, "actually super rich. The company my dad started after he invented something for computers or something that's now in pretty much every mobile device is incredibly huge. I honestly have no idea about the whole… thing" you run your fingers through your hair. It's still unfamiliar that it's now so short and, more importantly, so light. "He produces it himself, sells it himself. At least he did... He was tinkering with something newer, better, when he got mugged." You start to stir your milkshake with the straw, totally captured in your thoughts. "Someone tried to steal his designs. When he didn't hand them over, they shot and kidnapped my Ma and siblings. They blackmailed them to get the designs. But they knew nothing about it. Dad had never said anything about it." Tears burn in your eyes again. "I’ve found them...” Mouse carefully reaches across the table for your hand and brings you back from the memory.

You lift your gaze and meet his bright blue eyes. "Now I've inherited everything and have no idea where to go or what to do," you admit quietly. "The police never found the… offenders”

Mouse said nothing. He didn't have to say anything. Because nothing he could have said would have made you feel better. So you both remained silent for a moment while he still held your hand and gently caressed your skin with his thumb.

"Thank you for telling me," he finally says and you can't help but smile sadly at him.

"Okay. Let's talk about something else. Something nice..", you finally change the subject and force a liberated smile on your lips. "Tell me about your friend you mentioned, Jay. He seems important to you."

Mouse's expression brightens and he begins to smile honestly.

"Jay... we met in the army. Now he's with the CPD. He's managed to land on his feet. I.. well.."

"You can do it too. You just need someone who believes in you and gives you a chance."

"Yes. Maybe..."

"Okay. Crazy idea: we help each other get back on our feet." "And how do you imagine that?" He looks at you with interest.

"I don't know yet. But you can try, can't you?" "Okay. Let's try.”

After you have eaten and paid, you leave the diner again. "Do you want Pete to take you home? Or you can come upstairs. Then Pete can call it a night..”.

"Would be interested to see what an artist's flat looks like."

You snort in amusement. "Yes, don't expect too much. The artist hasn't moved in yet."

You get into the lift.

"Okay. All expectations are at zero. I promise," Mouse replies now and you have to laugh.

It's the first time in three months that you've really had an honest laugh.

"You have a very nice laugh," Mouse now says quietly.

"Thank you. I think that was the first time I laughed since the incident."

"Then I am honoured to be the first to hear it."

Again you giggle at his silliness.

The lift has arrived at the floor with your flat and you pull Mouse behind you down the corridor.

Once in your flat, Mouse looks around a bit. There is not much to see.

"I... haven't gotten around to decorating the flat yet," you now admit a little uncertainly and disappear into the kitchen.

"Since I don't drink beer, I only have wine in the fridge. But you get to decide which wine we head." You list a few varieties and as you look up, you meet Mouse's puzzled gaze, which makes you grin in amusement again.

"Just take any."

With a bottle of lovely white wine and two glasses in your hand, you go back into the living room and flop down on the couch.

"Sit down. I honestly have no idea what it is, Margarita got it for me...", you admit, and hand Mouse a glass with the alcohol.

Instead of sitting down, Mouse looks at the canvases that are standing around. Still lifes, landscapes. Chicago's skyline, portraits.

"That looks incredible. You should definitely exhibit it."

"Sometime, maybe. My parents were organising something when... well…”

Mouse nods in understanding.

"Hey, you want to try painting something?", you ask

"Oh no. I'd rather stick to my computer stuff."

"Come on. I'll help you." You direct him to the small stool that stands in front of your easel. "This is what I'm working on right now."

"Woah, no, I'm not touching that."

"No really. It didn't turn out so well anyway. I'll probably paint it over later."

"What?"

"Yeah, go on. What would you say is missing from this picture?"

You had painted an avenue where people were walking.

"Maybe make flowers out of the greenery? Then it doesn't look quite so gloomy.

"Okay." You stand behind Mouse, prepare the mixing palette and select a brush. "You do the flowers with dabs on the side."

You put the brush in his hand, put yours over it and guide it. Dab, dab, dab.

After a few dabs, you look at it and say with satisfaction: "Here. Now you try it on your own”

When Mouse did it alone, it didn't look as good as when you did it. But it wasn't a complete disaster either, which you consider a victory.

At some point, he taps his finger in the pink colour and taps you on the nose with it.

Outraged and surprised, you look at him before doing the same to him until you are both full of colour and end up laughing on the floor.

Over the next few weeks you and Mouse meet more often, regularly, sometimes he just sits on your couch and watches you paint, intently sticking your tongue out slightly, sometimes you watch him hacking in with ease somewhere to do something for Johnny's friends.

One day, your family's lawyer is at your door.

"Miss Y/L/N. It is time for you to attend to your duties. There are legal matters that we need to clarify." Mouse puts on his jacket and wants to leave, but you grab his hand. "Please stay." A look into your eyes is enough for him to nod and hang his jacket back up on the coat rack.

"Y/N. Once again, I would like to express my fullest condolences for your loss and for having to burden you with the legal stuff now."

"Thank you."

First he addresses the fact that you have still not accepted or renounced the inheritance. He lists all the things that are involved.

The house, the flats, the business, all the money of your parents and siblings. Mouse's ears almost fell off when he heard the buzzing.

"We can of course sell the house as well as the flats and the business."

"No. The company was Dad's life's work. It should continue to bear the name Y/L/N. Just hire someone competent to handle everything so far."

"I'II take care of it," promises Felix, the lawyer. "Then the properties." "Let's rent them out to people with little money..." Felix also makes a note of this.

"I want to donate most of the money..."

"Where?"

"'I’ll think about it.”

"Alright. Then I have everything for now. I'll get back to you." "Okay."

"You really are super rich”, Mouse said as soon as Felix was out the door.

"I don't want the money... What am I supposed to do with it? I can't spend as much as the company takes in. I probably donate monthly to women's shelters and children's homes or something.”

Mouse gently reaches for your hand and finally pulls you into a hug before the tears start running again.

Carefully he pulls you with him to the couch and onto his lap.

Shortly after your tears have dried up, Mouse feels you fall asleep and he smiles slightly.

In the last few weeks you have become so important to each other and you feel you have never told Mouse what it actually means to you that he is with you.

"Mouse... thank you..."

"For what?"

"That you're here. I... I was lost. Lost my footing and then I met you and... you became my anchor. I'm... I'm starting to be me again. Finding myself again."

He looks at you for a moment before he takes your hand and pulls you to him. The next moment his lips are on yours.

It doesn't take you long to recover from the surprise and you return the kiss. You open your lips slightly and receive his tongue, just like the night you met. But this time, when his tongue touches yours, a soft moan escapes you. You feel his little smirk against your lips. But at this moment you don't care.

Your hands run over his upper body and finally disappear under his T-shirt. You explore his chest and trace the contours of his muscles along his stomach. You tug lightly and he takes the hint and takes off his T-shirt before kissing you again without hesitation. His hands now roam over your body as well. Exploring every inch with such attentiveness to your reactions that you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Finally, you take off your T-shirt and Mouse takes a few seconds to admire your body. Your breasts are still hidden in your favourite bra.

Mouse lifts his gaze to your eyes. "May I?"

Your heart does a somersault. Mouse is not the first man you have slept with, but he is the first to ask you if he can do something. Unable to speak, you nod and bring his hands to your breasts and behind your back. Even though he can't look you in the eye for long, he watches your reaction very closely and as he slips the straps off your shoulders, goose bumps spread over your arms as his fingers touch you.

Kissing you again, still so lovingly, as if he were afraid you would break if he were too forceful, his hands wrap around your breasts and he begins to massage them.

His thumb strokes your hard nipples and you let out another moan as you begin to explore his mouth with your tongue.

Your excited moan shoots straight between his loins.

God, he wants you, so much, but even more he wants you to feel good, which is why he ignores the pulsing in his pants and continues to focus on you.

His hands go under your thighs and he looks at you briefly, the sign that you should jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and feel his hardness pressing against your middle.

The next moment, Mouse holds you between him and the wall, his lips now exploring your neck. With your eyes closed, you put your head to the side a little to give him more space.

He sucks a little on your skin, and leaves a little hickey.

An excited gasp escapes your throat and in response, he presses his hips a little harder against yours, only to have you moan lustily this time. "Fuck, Mouse..." you breathe as his lips reach your breast and cup your hard nipple.

Your head is swept clean as he begins to gently nibble, suck and lick over it.

Your hands are in his hair again, already you are searching for support in the storm of lust that threatens to take you in and you haven't even really started yet.

Each of his touches sends flashes of pleasure through your body, gathering in your centre and making you so fucking wet.

Finally, he sets you back down on the floor and his lips continue to travel down your body, over your belly to the waistband of your pants.

A loud shrill sound snaps you out of your frenzy of lust as a mobile phone begins to ring and you make a soft, agonised sound.

You want to ignore it, but it won't stop ringing.

Finally, Mouse, visibly annoyed about the interruption, breaks away from you and reaches for the phone on the table. "You've picked possibly the worst possible time, Halstead. I hope it's urgent."

You have to stifle a laugh as you hand him his shirt and put yours back on as well.

"Yes, in ten minutes, l'lI be there," you hear him say before he hangs up and looks at you apologetically. "Jay has some problem I need to help him with urgently, which of course couldn't wait." You nod in understanding and give him a breathtaking kiss goodbye.

The more time you spend with Mouse, the more you become yourself again. Margarita notices this too and confronts him when she happens to be in the flat while you and Mouse are there.

"Child, don't you want to start making your flat a home so that you no longer have to sleep in a storeroom?" she asks you, pointing to the boxes still standing around.

"Yeah, maybe I should start doing that, shouldn't I?"

When you then go to the kitchen to get something to drink, Margarita confronts Mouse: "If you hurt her, I'll make your life hell. She likes you and you are good for her, so don't ever let her go."

Then she turns to you as you re-enter the living room and says: "A nice young man you've caught yourself. I'II leave you to it then. Food is in the fridge, have a nice day." With a frown, you watch the woman scurry out of the front door.

"What was that?"

"I don't know what you mean," Mouse replies.

You shrug it off and change the subject. "Hey, about the flat furnishings...maybe you'd like to come with me?" You look at him with begging puppy eyes, which you know by now he cannot resist.

Your parents always had designer furniture everywhere and everything was made of very expensive material. You don't care, if you're honest, which is why you just decide according to what looks nicest to you. You notice how you think of your parents and don't immediately lose your grip. A small smile comes to your lips. Of course you still grieve and miss your family, that probably won't change, but it no longer paralyses you. You learn to live with it.

And Mouse has contributed a great deal to your healing, you are very sure of that, which is why you now take his hand and intertwine your fingers

A small smile also appears on his lips.

When you arrive in the bed department, you stand in front of a model and bite your lower lip, an idea forming in your head before you look at Mouse

"You know, you can't really try out the beds here. Just imagine, when you get home you realise that it's totally uncomfortable or impractical? If only you could try it out...." You look up at him meaningfully and he begins to laugh softly.

He understands what you are implying and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, before suggesting, "What do you say we come back later?"

"I think that's a great idea," you reply, stealing a small kiss from his lips.

…to be continued

back to masterlist

#mouse #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #writing #writers on tumblr #short story #chicago pd #fiction #imagine #fanfiction

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bibuckbuckley · 1 year

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Babygirl™️ Bracket Round 1: Side A

Note: propaganda is encouraged

#chimney #mouse #babygirlbracket #chimney han #howie han #howard han #greg gerwitz #greg geritz #911 fox #chicago pd #tumblr poll #polls #poll #my polls #kj makes a post

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kitweewoos · 4 months

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Mouse: I will never judge your food opinions. I will, however, judge how you say "abominable."

Jay: Abomidable?

Mouse: There's no T in it.

Jay: I'm not saying a T.

Mouse: A D, then. Whatever.

Jay: Maybe?

Mouse: A bomb.

Jay: A bomb.

Mouse: In.

Jay: In.

Mouse: A bull.

Jay: A bull.

Mouse: Abominable.

Jay: Abomidable.

Mouse: No.

#jay halstead #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #moustead #Alex made this post #(my phone is dying but i needed to roast Kit on main)

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spiritcold5 · 1 year

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I got too attached to fictional characters and now it hurts really bad because I think about them 24/7 and they have the audacity to not exist.

#stressy and depressy #greg mouse gerwitz #jay halstead #of course it’s them #fictional characters #I’m seriously feeling like shit right now #chicago pd #moustead #I’m sad about fucking Moustead #canon made them dirty and I’ve read all the fics #multiple times

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crowdiminico · 14 days

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We all love the "Mouse's found-family mother is Platt" idea because it feels so comfy, perfect and right.

But have we considered the other outcome that would naturally occur in this scenario; that would be hilarious, juxtaposing and brilliant...

"Mouse's found-family father is Mouch"

#hear me out #just think of the family dinners #“randall this is the mouse i was talking about”#“you mean you weren't talking about an actual tiny mouse living at the 21st?”#greg mouse gerwitz #mouse gerwitz #chicago pd mouse #gregorygerwitz #trudy platt #sergeant platt #randall mcholland #mouch mcholland #plouch #chicago pd #chicago fire #one chicago

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

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Voice Mail: Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz x Reader

Tagging: @k-k0129 @cosmic-psychickitty @enchantedblackrose @thebejeweledwatercat @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @neapolitantoebeans @cixrosie @i-spaced-sorry @aaronhtchnrs @juliannatryon @mysoulisasunflower @shakespeareanwannabe @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @elizabeththebat @iworldlywriter @caffeinatedwoman

It’s an off-duty shooting, something that no one expects to happen, least of all Greg.

You’d caught the bullet when you’d stepped out of the precinct, hurrying down the steps because you were running late to meet him at the observatory.

The stupid thing?

It wasn’t even meant for you; it was meant for the officer two steps behind you.

Greg remembers listening to the voicemail you’d left him that day. You’d been locking away your case files when you’d left it.

“Sorry Greg, I’m running late again. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you.”

He listens to that voicemail in the dead of night when he lies there in bed alone, staring at your pillow.

As he sits in the church, his gaze on the coffin in front of him, he recalls that morning. The sunlight playing across your bare skin as you made love to him for the last time. He remembers the way your fingertips traced over his scars, the noise that left your mouth when you hit that high. He relives every single one of those moments when he’s in the shower praying for a miracle.

When the curtain sweeps around the coffin, he feels the agony tearing in his chest because he knows what happens next. You’d made your wishes very clear when you’d talked about it one night.

Scatter me in the lake by the cabin, you’d told him.

His chest had gotten a little tight then because a lot of your special moments had happened up there. The first time he’d said I love you, the night he’d proposed.

I want to live in on those memories, you had explained.

Jay’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he inhales, trying to stave off the stinging in his eyes. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry today, that he’d get through the funeral and grieve on his own terms.

A bottle of booze and a couple of pills to take the edge off. He’d slipped back into old habits since you’d been gone. He thinks about the gun in his nightstand, the one he’d bought from his dealer two days ago.

Tonight he’s going to do it, tonight he’s going to join you.

Big Fan of Greg Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#greg gerwitz #gregory gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz x you #gregory gerwitz x you #gregory gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 1 year

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The Grocery Store Trip

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: General

Relationships: pre-Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character (This is a Mouse and Bex ficlet, but Jay and Will are mentioned.)

Warnings: None - Once I mentioned the grocery store trip in the Game Night 2 story, I started thinking about it and then this happened. I just wanted to write some fluff and to show more of how Mouse and Bex's relationship is developing off-screen so to speak. Hope you like it!

The Grocery Store Trip

Bex

“Thanks for coming with me,” Bex said as she and Mouse headed into the grocery store.

“No worries.” Mouse took the reusable bags from her and stuffed them in the cart he’d snagged.

“I just—I really appreciate it,” she continued, feeling a weird need to explain why she’d asked him to come. Even though the real explanation was that they’d been texting about the dinner that he and Jay were coming over for later and she knew he was home, but wouldn’t be coming over until Jay was done, but Jay was stuck in an interview and really if she was being totally honest with herself, she just wanted to see him and have a chance to hang out.

Bex took a mental breath.

Yeah.

She wasn’t telling him that.

“Will has been saying for awhile that he was going to do a shop, but he keeps getting stuck at the hospital,” she said, which was also actually true.

“I kept telling him I could just go and he’d get all weird about it? Like it’s a matter of principal that he can follow through on the grocery shopping promise.” Honestly, he was being weirdly stubborn. “So, I said fine and picked up a few things on the side, but it’s been almost two weeks and now we have no food so the shopping list is intense. Definitely a two-person job.”

One she could have roped any number of people in on, but…Mouse didn’t need to know that.

“Bex,” he laughed softly. “It’s fine. Lemme see the list.”

They made their way around the store, stocking up on staples (debating the merits of crunchy peanut butter versus smooth) and grabbing the necessities for their stir-fry dinner that evening.

A sign in the meat department made her gasp out loud.

Mouse straightened up from where he’d been lounging on the cart, instantly alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” she said, rushing over to one of the coolers. “Everything is perfectly right. The stars have aligned. Lady Luck is in my corner. Look. Look at this, Mouse.”

“It’s bacon,” he said, giving her concerned glance.

“It’s the good bacon, Mouse.” Bex could hardly believe her own eyes. “And it’s on sale.”

“The good bacon—the stuff you made for me and Jay like three weekends ago?”

“Yes.”

He quickly came over to check out the cooler with her. “Is there a limit on how many you can get? Does bacon freeze okay? I should grab some for my place.”

“And we should get some for Jay,” Bex agreed. They loaded up the cart and high fived their shopping prowess. She looked over their cart. “Okay, I think we’re close to done. Anything left on the list?”

He read through her scribbled notes, scrunching up his face as he tried to decipher them. It was too freaking cute.

Inviting Mouse to go shopping with her might have been a mistake because it was making her want things. Things she wasn’t sure she could have. Just…enjoy what you do have, she reminded herself. See how the rest goes.

*** Mouse

He peered at Bex’s shopping list, mentally checking off what they’d already grabbed and tried to make sense of her handwriting that managed to be loopy and scrawled all at the same time.

“Looks like the only thing left is snacks.” Mouse looked up and felt his breath catch when he saw her watching him with that warm, open Bex smile. The one he liked to pretend was just for him. He cleared his throat and showed her the page.

“That’s literally all it says. Snacks.” He laughed.

“To the snack aisle then!” She forged ahead and Mouse trailed after her with the cart, happy to follow her anywhere.

“Ooh, Jay’s been looking for those nachos.” She grabbed two bags plus a bag of snack mix he was sure he’d seen Will munching on during the hockey game last week.

He leaned on the cart, watching her with a lazy smile. “Do you just have a running list in your head of everyone’s favourite things?” Because that would be the most Bex thing ever.

“Maybe.” She plucked a bag of his favourite chips off of the shelf and placed it in the cart with a grin. “But only for my favourite people.”

“Well,” Mouse said, pushing up off the cart and wandering over to peruse the shelves. “Can’t forget about these then.” He pulled a bag of salt and vinegar chips off the shelf and placed them in the cart beside the rest of their haul.

Bex’s favourite snack.

She wasn’t the only one who could notice things.

He noticed everything about her.

Not in a creepy way. God, he hoped it wasn’t in a creepy way.

It must not be if how she was beaming at him was any indication.

His phone beeped, startling them both and he pulled it out of his pocket to read the message. “Oh, uh, Jay’s finally done,” he told her.

“Great!” Bex grabbed the cart and started steering it toward the check out. “Will should be home soon too. If we get started on dinner as soon as we get back, it should be ready to go by the time Jay gets there.”

“I’ll let him know.” Mouse tapped out the message to Jay and frowned at the response asking if he needed to be picked up by Jay on the way.

He must not have clued into the fact that Mouse was with Bex. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind whirling as he tried to think of how to respond. Did he think Mouse was just relaying a message from Bex? Would he think it was weird that they were shopping together? Would he be upset? Did he even need to know?

…should he know?

A part of Mouse knew he was being ridiculous. He and Bex going grocery shopping was not a big deal or a weird thing to do. It was a thing that friends did all the time.

Even if he’d privately been enjoying pretending it was something they were doing as not friends.

Because that was how deep he was in now—his fantasies about Bex involved them doing domestic couple-y shit.

He scrubbed a hand down his face before typing out an answer to Jay.

All good. I’ll meet you there.

Better he didn’t know for now. Not when Mouse didn’t even know what the hell he was doing.

He jogged after Bex and began helping to unload the cart onto the belt. She bumped into his side lightly.

“Hey,” she said. “Thanks a lot for helping me today.”

“Happy to,” he said, grinning back at her with a wink. “I never get called in to be the muscle so really, it’s been my pleasure.”

“Oh, well then,” she laughed. “You’re welcome. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Mouse nodded and started bagging things up. Again sometime.

That sounded good to him.

Click here to read The Grocery Store Trip on ao3:

I didn't tag anyone in this one because it's not part of the main series and I didn't want to assume people would be interested, but if you want to be tagged in stories posted in the sidebar collection, please just give me a shout. Thanks!

#chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #one chicago #jay halstead #will halstead #halstead brothers #oc character #rebecca 'bex' herrmann #greg 'mouse' gerwitz #mouse gerwitz #domestic fluff #idiots in love #A Herrmann/Halstead Production #ficlet #alternate universe #not canon #not beta read

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sjhhemmings · 4 months

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Evermore pt. 5

Cassie Voight x Mouse, Cassie Voight x Jay Halstead

a/n: sorry everyone, this is kind of a filler chapter but I promise next chapter all of the goods will start to come. Patience is a virtue 💝.

warnings: swearing, decision making, crying. Shes a filler chapter idk what to tell you. Anything I missed though.

word count: 2030

wattpad: sjhhoran

Expectantly looking at the two people before him, Sergeant Voight rests his eyes on his daughter.

Trying to analyze and prepare for the choice she makes he studies her face. He studies her brown eyes, long brown hair, her beautifully square jaw and soft features. He always admired his daughter, she was a carbon copy of his late wife Camille.

Stepping back to lightly sit on the edge of his desk, Voight clasps his hands together in his lap still waiting for an answer.

Lightly chuckling out of disbelief, Cassie looks over at Jay who was still harboring the same reaction.

"Well?" Her father finally asks.

"I-I don't know." The girl says shocked.

"Sarge, don't you think it might be a little too soon, considering..." Jay interjected with his arms crossed in front of him.

"Considering everything that happened a week ago?" Voight asks assuming the rest of the other man's sentence.

"Uh, yeah." Jay says frankly.

"Well also considering we've been down a detective in the unit for a week now, and Antonio hasn't had a partner, I think now is an appropriate time to fill that spot. Look, I'm not trying to replace Willhite. That's not what's happening. Willhite was an extraordinary detective and what happened was tragic. But I would be doing a dishonor to my unit if I leave an open spot. That means we have one less person on busts, we have one less person to help solve cases, and we have one less person putting bad guys behind bars. Now, I see someone that I trust and that I have faith in to live up to Willhite's reputation and thrive in this environment. So Cassie, what do you say?" Voight looks at his daughter again who looks even more intimidated than she was the first time he offered.

A million thoughts were running through Cassie's head, and yet she still couldn’t pick one and take the job. Being a paramedic gives her a rush, its fills a hole inside her that aches to help. But so did being a police officer at one point. Yeah she fell into a routine and couldn’t commit to being a patrolman, but this is a completely different field. This is becoming a detective.

Cassie had grown up around detectives her whole life. She knew the ins and outs of how they did their job, she understood the consequences of the hours and how some cases take a larger toll than others. But she also knew the effects of being too ‘in’ on the job. How easily it is to overwhelm yourself, and completely indulge in the rush that puts the bad people away. That’s what scared her. She knew her father wasn’t around a lot when she was growing up because of this job, so a piece of her does resent it. She resents the nights they would eat dinner without him, the Sunday’s he wasn’t at church. She resented the birthday parties and minor holidays he would miss, she resented it all. One of the main reasons she hasn’t made a choice yet is because one of her biggest fears is turning into her father. But also one of her biggest goals is to do that very thing.

“I say I need a little more time.” She finally admits.

“Okay. You have two days,” Voight says standing up and walking over to his chair.

“Okay? Thats it?” She asks confused.

“That’s it. You need time, I gave you time.” He said sitting down and opening a case file.

Cassie looked at Jay again who was biting the inside of his cheek.

Looking back at her father who isn’t paying any attention to the pair now she rubbed the back of her neck.

“I- um, yeah, okay. I’ll let you know.” She said turning to walking out the door but Jay was blocking it.

Staring into space and not noticing the girl trying to leave, Jay finally moved once she cleared her throat muttering a quick ‘excuse me.’

“What was that about?” Erin asked as the pair walked out of Voight’s office catching the rest of intelligence’s attention.

Cassie walked closer to the other girl before disclosing what just happened.

“He just offered me a job.” She said emotionlessly crossing her arms and staring daggers into Lindsay’s eyes. Cassie didn’t say it loud enough for the rest of the unit to hear, but by Erin’s reaction they knew it was big.

“Are you serious!?” Erin shouted catching everyone’s attention again making Cassie’s eyes grow wide.

“Shhh,” the girl said glancing around at their audience. “C’mon.” She finally said bowing her head and walking out of the office with Erin following her.

Once they stepped outside the district to catch some fresh air, Cassie broke. Full pacing, chewing her lips, and lightly pinching her bicep with her crossed arms.

“He offered me a job!” She finally shouted looking at her just as shocked sister. The only difference is, Lindsay doesn’t show it as obviously.

“What are you going to do?” Erin asked sitting down on the bench.

Stopping in her tracks Cassie turns to do the same. Now instead of pacing, her leg is restlessly bouncing against the bench seat, slightly annoying Erin.

“I don’t know. I just got my paramedic certification and I’ve been promoted to PIC. I absolutely adore my partner, Sylvie Brett. The environment has relaxed since Matt and Dad have worked out their issues, I just, I’m at a loss right now.” She said resting her elbows on her knees.

“Okay, so what are some pros and cons of becoming a detective right now.” Erin pressed now rubbing circles against the other girls back.

“Well, I’ve already been through the academy and worked the streets, so I’d just come directly upstairs if I transfer. I get to work closer with you, Dad, and Jay. The hours seem pretty shit though,”

“And 24-48 hour shifts are any better?” Erin asked chuckling.

“You’re right.” Cassie said quietly.

“But I won’t get to wear my 5.11’s anymore.” Cassie said sadly looking over at her sister.

“What is that?”

“The EMS pants.”

“And?”

“And they made my butt look good. Sue me.”

Bursting into a fit of laughter, the girls took a few minutes to recollect their thoughts and calm down. All of the previous worries leaving Cassie’s mind, all except for one.

“What if I don’t have what it takes?” Cassie asked sitting up straight and looking dead ahead of her.

“In what way?”

“What if I won’t be able to solve the crimes or actually put people away? What if I’m just the weak link that’s going to make the whole unit drown?” She asks quieter truly unsure.

“If you didn’t have what it takes, do you really think Hank would’ve offered you the job?” Erin asked.

“Out of pity? Probably.” Cassie said knowing it wasn’t true.

“No. If you didn’t have what it took to be a good cop, Hank would not put the whole unit in jeopardy just to make you feel better in some way. Especially not out of pity.” Erin said looking over at her sister who knows better.

“How am I supposed to just quit my other job? Just walk in and say, ‘Hey here’s my two week notice, but scratch that and make it my last shift notice because instead of being a paramedic I’m gonna be a detective in a special unit! Don’t hate me, I know it’s only my third time switching my whole career field but you know, yolo!’”

“Precisely.” Erin joked earning an eye roll from Cassie.

Exactly two days later on the dot, Cassie had a plan.

Walking into 51, Cassie went straight to Chief Boden’s office.

“Sir, can I speak with you?” She asked knocking on his slightly cracked door.

“Yeah, come on in.” He said waving her in and taking his glasses off.

“So what’s this about? You’re not on shift until tomorrow.” He said as he watched her get comfortable in the seat before him.

“I-uh,” Cassie chuckled a little as she tried to fan her face so tears won’t fall. Taking a deep breath before continuing she looked her Chief in the eye and flashed a sympathetic smile. Taking the resignation slip out of her coat pocket, she layed the document on his desk.

“Cassie,” He said almost breathlessly as he stared at the pink slip before him.

“If this is about what happened a few days ago, you can take a few shifts off. You know, decompress. Cope. You don’t have-”

“It’s not about that,” Cassie interrupted.

“It’s not about that situation, or you, or anyone else here at 51. You guys are my family and I will forever cherish the experiences and connections I’ve made here.” Taking a pause Cassie glanced down at her now bleeding cuticles as she was picking at them nervously.

“As you may know, I used to be a cop at the 31st district. I completed the academy, and I was a patrolman for two years. In the middle of that, I realized that, that uniform was not for me. I realized I had another calling, and that was to be a paramedic. Thats why for the last three years I’ve worked my ass off, pardon my language, to become an EMT then a Paramedic, and now a PIC. But after what happened, they let me in the room to help question Lullo. To help get the confession from him, and I did. And it was euphoric. To be the one to help put someone behind bars that deserved it, that was my calling. That was my original intention of becoming a cop, and that’s why, when I got the job offer to become a detective, to continue my law enforcement career, I knew I couldn’t pass it up. Becoming a paramedic has been the best thing in my life, and I will forever be indebted to you, and everyone else that helped that dream come true. But I know becoming a detective, and doing real work besides patrolling the streets, that’s my life’s purpose.” Cassie finally said wiping a few stray tears.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, Boden didn’t know what to say.

“As much as I admire your adaptability, and your ability to find purpose in so many things in life, I’ve got to say I’m disappointed. I’m obviously sad to see you go, I truly thought you had a big future here, and being a paramedic in general. Because you’re good at it. You’ve got the guts and the leadership skills to take charge and be the person everyone else looks up too in this community, but I understand you have to follow your gut. I understand you have bigger things to accomplish in life. Cassie, you’re going to do amazing no matter where you work, no matter what you do. I will always be here for you if you need anything, but I want you to consider your decision one last time. Because once I file this paper, you will never be a paramedic again. Not unless you go through the courses and training again. Do you understand that?” He finally asks looking at the girl.

Taking a pause and truly thinking everything over again. Cassie reluctantly nods.

“I understand.” She says now earning a slow nod from the man.

“Then I wish you well. You’re going to do great things.” He finally says standing up at the same time as Cassie and giving her a brief hug.

“Cassie wait,” He calls out making her stop in her tracks, “have you told anyone?”

“No.”

“Do you want to? That way you can break the news?”

Taking a deep breath and thinking it over, Cassie knew she wouldn’t be able to go through with this if she did, so in the most selfish way possible, Cassie shook her head.

“No.” She said now walking out.

As Cassie walked out to her car she let her tears free fall and pulled out her phone.

Cassie:“I’m in.”

Dad: “I know. I’ll see you Monday.”

tagging: @rockyhayzkid

#one chicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd x oc #chicago pd one shot #chicago pd series #evermore #jay halstead bff #erin lindsay #wallace boden #hank voight daughter #hank voight #cassie voight #greg gerwitz x reader #greg mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #series #chicago pd fanfic #chicago fire fan fiction

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