Work Text:
Trudy had almost laughed out loud the first time Jay Halstead had walked into her District, shoulder-to-shoulder with Dawson. That’s the detective Antonio had vouched for? Pretty boy with too-blue eyes and a world of baggage behind them?
Idiot.
“He saved my sister’s life,” Antonio told her with a shrug when she asked. “Caught a bullet in the shoulder taking down a gang single-handedly, and all he was thinking about was getting a spot in Intelligence.”
“Smart boy.”
“That’s what I figured.”
Trudy did laugh --quietly-- when she caught the way Halstead looked at Erin. Completely dazzled. Gravitating towards her like a planet caught in her sharp-edged orbit. And the smiles Erin shot back at him --the private curling of her lips, the tilt of her head and the throaty laughs. That boy didn’t stand a chance. And lord if it didn’t boil Hank’s blood. Trudy gave Jay Halstead a month with the unit.
He made it two.
Then six.
He stuck around. And he was good too, one of the best detectives she’d seen come through her District. Even Voight couldn’t argue with the results he brought in, though he clearly took issue with the kid’s cock-sure attitude. The vibrating undercurrent of energy that made him just a little too likely to jump into danger. Then he got suspended --killing a pedophile, apparently. He swore it wasn’t true. Ended up proving it himself when the Unit didn’t back him --when Voight didn’t back him-- but Trudy had believed him from the start. Jay Halstead was dangerous, no doubt, but he wasn’t like Voight. She could admit to herself though, that if it had been true, if Halstead had been the one who’d killed the bastard, she would have understood. Sometimes justice needed a little help.
He was hard to get a read on. Ranger training left him disciplined, but there was a reckless air to him. A thrumming undercurrent of what she thought of as ‘necessary violence’ that he tried to hide. He had a heart of gold, one that got him in trouble too often to count. But sometimes it was like he was just trying to get himself hurt. Trudy had never seen someone rack up hospital bills the way Halstead did.
“Always gotta be first through the door, huh?” Erin teased him once as she tossed him an ice pack. Trudy had come up to drop some files off for Hank, only to find Halstead leaning against his desk, a lilac bruise spreading across his cheek. “How’s that working out for you?”
Jay made a rude gesture, but he was smiling. Two of his fingers were bandaged up, his knuckles raw and scraped. He was keyed up, that much was clear from the restless bouncing of his leg, and his eyes were a bit too bright when he glanced up to see Trudy walk up the stairs --the kind of look that spoke of too much adrenaline and too few ways to dispel it. She had seen that look a million times. He lowered his hand hastily.
“Looking good, Detective,” She said as she passed between their desks to get to Hank’s office. “I hope that incident report is on my desk already.”
The resigned look on his face brought a smile to Erin’s lips, which had been Trudy’s goal. She loved that girl like her own. Berating Jay for Erin’s pleasure was the least she could do.
“Right away, Sergeant.”
He was brave too. That much was obvious purely from the number of times he’d put his life on the line --though borderline suicidal was the way she thought of it on her more cynical days. But that wasn’t what impressed Trudy. What did impress her was that Jay was willing to stand up to Voight when he disagreed with the rough justice the Sergeant saw as the only way. Al had told her the story, somewhere between amazed and exasperated, over a glass of whiskey they’d stolen from Voight’s office. Al was the only person in the world who could get away with that --except maybe Erin.
“He just showed up, begged Hank not to do it.”
“And Hank listened?”
Al laughed that quiet laugh of his. “I backed him up --the kid looked ready to jump in after Pulpo if we sent him for a swim, so I figured we’d be better off taking a step back.”
Trudy could practically see the angry look in Hank’s eyes. The press of his tongue against his top lip as Halstead launched himself over the unspoken line that encircled Hank and his grey morality.
“That kid’s going to get himself killed,” Trudy said, taking a long drink as Al nodded silently. The brashness of young cops set her nerves on edge; She’d seen too many of them suffer because of their own foolish hearts. “Think he’ll still have a job here come Monday?”
Al blew out a long breath. “I do.”
And he did.
He gets a bounty put on his head for shooting Bembenek’s brother. Shrugs it off until his friend catches a bullet in the neck and Hank forces him to stay at the District until they can figure out a way to fix it. Drives Trudy insane with his restless pacing. His eyes had been half-wild when he and Erin had burst in that night, blood-spattered and breathless. Erin with her phone lodged in the crook of her shoulder, Jay with a look on his face so fierce that Trudy had followed them up the stairs without a word, certain something terrible had happened. It felt wrong to be relieved that he and Erin were okay when a girl was lying in a hospital bed in their place, but she was. So much so that it surprised her.
She was rethinking her relief now though, as he came down the stairs again, eyebrows raised questioningly. Burgess and Roman trailed after him, long-suffering looks on their faces.
“Nothing new, Jay. I would have told you if there were.”
He huffed out a breath and nodded, disappearing up the stairs. If the circumstances had been different, watching Burgess and Roman try to wrangle him would have been hilarious. As it was, it brought a small smile to her lips. It was a wonder he risked injury so often when being benched left him pacing like a caged animal.
He brought Mouse into her district some months later. Shifty, nervous, loyal to a fault. Sharp grey eyes that tracked too much to ever look casual. She’d thought Halstead was tightly wound, but Mouse made him look like the most laid back guy in Chicago.
“Why the medical discharge, Mouse?” She’d asked when she interviewed him, eyes narrowing. He’d blinked rapidly a few times, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He was easy to read, an open book where Halstead was tied so tightly shut that it was almost impossible to get anything out of him.
“Uh,” Something shifted behind Mouse’s eyes as he spoke. A kaleidoscope of memories that promised a hell of a lot of trouble. “There was a convoy, and I was in the lead humvee --it was me and Jay, actually,” He huffed out a humorless laugh then, and trailed off, eyes unfocused. “Um…”
His lips had twisted into a small, sharp frown. Trudy didn’t even think he’d been aware of it, or of her. He’d had a faraway look in his eye that she’d seen time and again in people who had simply seen too much. She had waited a moment, then tilted her head down to catch his gaze.
“Hey,”
He’d jerked his head up to look at her, gaze unerringly focused in an instant. “Huh?”
“We’re good.” She’d stood up and handed him some papers, giving him a moment to collect himself. His smile had looked a little too strained to be genuine. “Just fill out these forms.”
“Thank you.”
When he’d come down at the end of shift, Halstead’s arm had been slung around his shoulder and they had both been laughing at some idiocy or another. He’d waved at Trudy, but Jay had stopped at her desk, gesturing for Mouse to meet him outside. The District was nearly empty --a small mercy from the fresh snow and icy wind outside, so she turned to him immediately. The look on his face was unfamiliar, different from his usual grin or the hard line his lips pressed into when he was too wrapped up in a case to focus on anything else. He cleared his throat, a little awkward, and flashed a small, sincere smile. The full, unwavering force of Jay Halstead’s gaze was a powerful thing.
“Thank you,” He said quietly.
She shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
So maybe he was growing on her.
His relationship with Erin shifts at some point as she spirals down after Nadia. Trudy does what she can to help her, but Erin learned a long time ago what self-destruction looked like, and she is a quick study. Trudy’s barely holding on herself --sometimes can barely breathe from the aching guilt over what happened, and it’s hard to push through the sharp-edged walls Erin put up the way she otherwise might have. So Erin sinks. And turns in her badge.
Hank is harder, furious at the way Erin had let him down. At the way he had let her down. He brings in a suspect with a snapped wrist and a story so flimsy that Trudy forces him to have a drink with her after work so they could talk. Jay breaks a finger, split his lip, and ends up under observation for a concussion all in the span of a week.
So when Jay gets kidnapped, when Erin shows up --pale, drawn, but with a familiar edge of determination in her hazel eyes-- the relief that runs through Trudy almost knocks her off of her feet. The video of Jay suspended from the ceiling, writhing in pain with blood smeared across his face --because she’d watched it, of course she’d watched it, lips pressed tightly together, eyes searching desperately for anything identifiable-- stays imprinted behind her eyelids until Al calls her to let her know they’d found him, battered but blessedly alive.
He comes into work a few days later, far sooner than the recommended medical leave, with slowly healing cuts and yellowing bruises. Trudy calls him over to her desk and hands him a stack of paper. “Couple of forms for you to fill out when Hank makes you stay here all day.” She says. “Don’t you have at least a week more of medical leave?”
“Suggested medical leave. And I’m fine. Will’s been driving me crazy with the amount of times he’s checked up on me. There are ICU patients who don’t get the level of care I did.”
“Someone has to make sure you don’t drop dead, since you clearly refuse to do that yourself.”
He huffs indignantly, but Ruzek’s delighted shout pulls his attention away before he can respond.
“Jay!”
Ruzek pounds down the stairs, Kevin in tow, and Jay is pulled reluctantly into a loud hug. Trudy’s glad despite herself to see that Intelligence hadn’t hammered out the excitability of the two officers --yet.
Will soon becomes --not a constant presence, but familiar. And some things start falling into place, like the fact that Jay’s stubborn streak is clearly hereditary. And when Will pounds down the stairs one day after what was clearly a tense conversation, Jay an equally annoyed shadow behind him, their twin scowls make Trudy snort. The Halstead’s didn’t exactly look alike, but the determined sets of their jaws in that moment were uncanny. Will didn’t really seem to like cops, though --his brother aside. There was an ingrained mistrust that made Trudy wonder what kind of trouble he’d been into before medicine. Because he was clearly trouble --she could see it in every charming twist of his lips. Good trouble, though. The kind that left you laughing and wild.
Trudy didn’t quite know what it was about Jay Halstead, who was so wrapped up in his work that he dated his partner --something she’d seen go wrong a million times. That he brought his best friend onto the job. That he risked his life again and again, relived memories he clearly wanted to forget, looked better after a fight than most people did after a full nights sleep --bright-eyed, skin flushed, vibrating with energy.
She wondered how introspective he was about his own self-destructiveness. Did he think he was okay because his coping mechanisms didn’t leave the same track marks that Mouse’s did?
The lingering glances he and Erin shared eventually turned into linked hands, quick kisses when they thought no one was looking. Finally. Erin deserved a man who looked at her like she hung the moon, and Jay was more than happy to provide that.
He punched a cop for her once, something Erin most certainly could have done herself but, judging by the look in her eyes when it had happened, she hadn’t seemed to mind that he had done it. The guy had sputtered on the floor, his spilled beer soaking his shirt, and had glared furiously up at Jay, who’d curled his lips disdainfully. “She told you to back up.” The mild tone of Jay’s voice didn’t match the fierce look in his eyes.
Trudy had caught the edged exasperation on Herman’s face as he signaled something to Otis before leaning over the bar to look at the guy who was pushing himself up off the floor. Jameson? Johnson? Trudy honestly couldn’t remember; he wasn’t one of hers. “Alrighty, how about you take it somewhere else, pal? You’re done here.”
“Seriously? He’s the one who hit me!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have grabbed my ass,” Erin snapped. Jay seemed content to let her handle it, but he kept a possessive hand curled around her waist and stared down at the guy, his steady gaze unnerving. The rest of the unit made their way over --an intimidating tableau of threatening glares that had the guy taking a step back.
“Out.” Herman’s tone brooked no argument. “Now. You’re disturbing the other patrons. Find somewhere else to drink.”
Herman turned to Erin when the guy left and apologized, earnest as always. She shooed him off with the promise of a free round and a smile as Will swooped in to look at Jay’s knuckles, vigilant as always --but his proud smile bellied a certain level of his concern.
Trudy shared a glance with Randy, who grinned at her.
“I’m getting old.”
Mouse reenlists.
Jay’s the one who gets her to wipe Mouse’s record clean. He’s quiet. Tense. But he brushes her off when she asks if he’s sure. “It’s what he wants.”
It clearly wasn’t what Jay wanted. His expression was so placid that it was unnerving --an obvious attempt to cover up the twisting emotions that sat in the barest downturn of his lip, in the hard line of tension in his shoulders. He lets out a long breath when she deletes the file, thanks her quickly, and hightails it out of the District before she can get a word out, leaving nothing but a trailing gust of cold air behind him. Trudy hopes he’ll be okay. Hopes Mouse will be okay, both because he had charmed her in his own eclectic way, and because she doesn’t think Jay would survive that loss.
She remembers the look in Jay’s eye when Mouse had been taken hostage, the subtle shifting as he went from cop to soldier in an instant. The little nods they’d given each other, the lightning quick glances and subtle signals. It had been strange to see Mouse like that --unwavering. He’d looked more sure of himself in those few hours than Trudy had ever seen him. Hadn’t flinched with all the guns trained on him, with a cold barrel pressed against his skull and the threat of death in the air.
“What took you so long?” she’d heard Jay asked exasperatedly once Mouse had disarmed the man. He kept a hand on Mouse’s arm, looked him up-and-down for nonexistent injuries.
“I believed him,” Mouse had said, shrugging. But he’d clapped Jay on the shoulder. It was an apology and a reassurance, letting Jay feel that he was okay. But Trudy didn’t think Jay had ever doubted it, not really. He trusts Mouse’s ability to take care of himself. The thought gave her pause. She knows, objectively, that Mouse had military training, that being a Ranger meant he was dangerous, but he made it easy to forget with his nervous energy and loose smiles. It wasn’t often that she misread someone the way she did Mouse. The thought lingered in her brain --he was a killer. She searched for it when he asked her to sign forms or when he would slip past her desk to get to the vending machines, some sign. Some hint of danger that would set alarm bells off in her mind, but there’s nothing.
Maybe she was losing her touch.
She holds onto the whispered suggestions of Mouse’s hidden violence when he leaves, praying to God that he’ll survive his tour.
Erin leaves a few months later. Runs. Escapes the consequences of her own desperation. Something shifted, snapped, and she was gone. So suddenly that it didn’t seem real.
How many times had Hank faced a disciplinary board? How often did the Intelligence Unit careen over the line for the good of Chicago? None of them had expected it to end with her simply gone.
Hank had been the one to push her out the door, had gotten her a job on that task force in New York, but Trudy could see how much he missed her. How much they all did. Jay put on a convincing act, worked with the new detective --Upton-- like every little thing she did wasn’t a reminder of who she wasn’t, but there were dark circles under his eyes. And he was spiraling. But he’d been spiraling so quietly for so long that they didn’t notice until it was too late, until Camilla and his fake life and his own desperate escape blew up in his face so violently that Trudy wondered if he’d ever recover.
Then she saw Upton walk into lock up. Heard her warn Camilla off with an unwavering steel in her voice that left no doubt as to her intentions. Trudy slipped silently from the hallway before Upton could see her.
Maybe Jay would be okay after all.
He goes to therapy --of all things. Mandated, but he goes nonetheless. And it seems to help. The shadows under his eyes fade, and he laughs at one of Ruzek’s jokes. The younger officer lights up, clearly relieved. It’s nice to see.
Upton is good for him. She’s good in general. A firebrand with a sharp tongue and bright eyes. Trudy likes her. She can’t stop the smile that presses across her face when she tells Randy that she’s apparently the reason Hailey became a cop.
It makes a lot of shitty things feel worth it.
Randy kisses her, tells her in his bumbling way that he’s not surprised for a moment. He’s always thought she was inspiring.