Chapter Text
Hailey wakes up alone, the sheets at her side already cold to the touch. The realization is jarring, panic beginning to seize inside her chest and slither its way down the path of her spine. And, it hurts more than she believes that it should. Only the lingering smell of coffee assures her that Jay hasn’t been gone too long from their home -- that he hadn’t left in the dark moments after she’d drifted into an exhausted slumber.
Such knowledge presses the panic down, forcing it away until Hailey can barely feel it snapping and snarling at the back of her mind.
He has every right to be upset with her… to be disappointed in what she has done and the secrets that she has kept from him.
And yet, his absence hurts all the same.
Her phone is buzzing just moments after she has woken, the heavy press of sleep and panic still lingering over her. Hailey grabs for it, searching the screen in hopes of finding Jay’s name scrolling across her screen. Instead, she finds an alert from Kevin. The message is short and concise, nothing more than an address and a brief line of text detailing a shooting that had just gone down across town. Hailey is out of bed before she can finish the text, tugging her well worn sweats off and snatching up the first clean clothes she can put her hands on.
She’s out of her and Jay’s apartment in near record time, the sound of the closing door echoing hollowly behind her. Hailey does not have time to dwell upon the shivering sweep that descends down her spine with the noise. She doesn’t have time to think about how foreboding it sounds.
Outside, the sky is crystal clear. Another cruel joke, Hailey thinks, given everything that had occurred the night before and the call that is floating in over her radio when she slides into the driver’s seat of her Jeep. Before she pulls out into the near empty streets, she checks her phone one final time, eyes looking over the screen in search of a familiar alert. The screen remains blank.
And, it still hurts. Hailey doesn’t want it to -- tries to tell herself that Jay is entitled to the time needed to process everything she’d told him. She reminds herself --again-- that he can be disappointed and that he can be upset.
But… the pain is there. Another burden to bear. Like all the others, this is one of her own horrific creation. There is no lie that she can tell herself to convince herself otherwise.
Traffic is light.
She makes it to the crime scene just as Kim and Adam are pulling into the parking lot ahead of her. Voight is already there, walking the scene and surveying what has happened. Kevin is at his side, pointing out what he’d seen when he’d rolled up with the first responding officers. On the opposite side of the parking lot, Hailey spies Jay’s truck. There’s a quick flicker of panic when she cannot locate him among the flashing lights and the uniforms now patrolling the scene. She looks again, her fingers tightening around her steering wheel, and finds him walking the interior of the building, eyes trained down at the floor.
The panic fades, brushed away by the simple sight of him. Something more settles in its place, though. As Hailey watches him move from behind her windshield, she sees the tension that’s buried so deeply in the set of his shoulders. She sees the clench of his jaw and the way his head cants in Voight’s direction when the sergeant has his back turned. Hailey has seen that look before. Not so long ago, in fact, she’d seen a similar look when Jay had come face to face with his old military acquaintance, Knox.
Last night’s conversation is one she doesn’t want to dwell on right then. There are too many things that still haven’t been said between them. There are too many unknowns. But, there is one thing that Hailey is certain of. Whatever trust had been lingering between Jay and Voight had shattered the night before, torn away with the revelation of everything that he had done to Roy.
And, with that trust gone, fury had swept in to take its place.
Jay’s anger at Voight had been clear as they’d talked well beyond the midnight hour. Part of her should be relieved at that response. She should be relieved that Jay is angry at the situation that Voight has managed to trap her in.
Worry prickles beneath her skin instead. She’s not sure of its source, cannot determine just what she is so worried about.
Worried over Jay knowing about Roy? Knowing what Voight had done and what she had become so trapped in? Or, worried about Voight finding out that Jay knows… worried about the fallout that could rip through everything that Hailey has come to cherish in her life.
All the same, no matter the origin, the feeling is there and she is unable to shake it as she cuts the engine of her car and steps back into the early morning sunlight to go to work.
The scene is a chilling one, one that Hailey and the others have worked in some sort of capacity over the years. Nonetheless, it’s still gruesome. No amount of exposure completely dulls the shock. They all work quickly, falling into the easy routines of surveying the crime scene and taking statements from the witnesses that have escaped the carnage unharmed or with non-lethal injuries. Debriefing is just as quick, nothing more than efficient exchanges of observations and the recounts of the witnesses that have been freed from the scene or rushed to Med to treat their wounds.
It’s during the debriefing that Hailey sees the discoloration and the split skin of Voight’s lip. Her eyes zero in on it, flickering from him to where Jay stands a few strides away. The image of his hand, knuckles split and bruised, flashes immediately to mind. Hailey had probed about it the night before, asking what had happened… if he was okay. Jay had brushed the concern away, insisting it was nothing. She’d known differently then, but hadn’t pushed… feeling as though she didn’t have the right to. Everything connects in those few seconds, eyes remaining on Jay even as Voight issues his orders.
When they all break, going their own ways, Hailey trails after Jay. She has to quicken her pace to keep up with him, his strides longer --and quicker-- than they typically are.
“Hey,” she murmurs, glancing up at him as they walk. He doesn’t immediately look at her. Hailey tries to push away the prickling sensation that begins to race beneath her skin once more. “You left early,” she continues. Her voice is quiet, hesitant. “I didn’t even hear you leave.”
The hour or so before suddenly springs back to mind, Hailey doing all she can to keep the panic that had surged to her surface when she’d woken up alone at bay. She doesn’t want that to be a new normal -- waking up to an empty bed with him gone… worrying that each time may be the time where he finally cuts his losses and runs from her.
‘I’m not going anywhere, Hailey. Really, I’m not.’
That conversation feels like a lifetime ago.
“I was trying to let you sleep. We talked all night. I just wanted to go to work.”
The response is quick and he still doesn’t look her in the eye. Those are the first things that Hailey realizes. The second is how detached his voice seems… how there suddenly seems to be a wall between the two of them.
She falls back from his side, her gait slowing until she’s paused on the asphalt. Jay never slows. It feels as though they’re separated by miles when Hailey finally follows behind him.
~ o ~ O ~ o ~
The first case wraps quickly by their norms, though it has its fair share of hurdles. As soon as the first is done, they quickly catch another.
Kevin disappears early one evening after their second case has been put to rest, leaving the bullpen without a word. Kim and Adam file out not long after him, trading quick whispers back and forth with one another as they make for the steps to take them downstairs. Voight has never returned from earlier in the afternoon and Hailey is relieved by that. The last few days have been tense to say the least. The sergeant’s absence helps, but does not mend everything that feels so utterly off kilter.
Silence sets in after the rest of the team has vanished.
She and Jay have had their fair share of time in solitude, yet there has been very little conversation between the two of them. She still has not broached the split and bruised skin of his hand again. She has not pressed him to talk. Jay still comes back to their apartment. He still comes home and he sleeps beside her.
But, the last few days, he has arrived home long after midnight -- when he thinks she’s already sleeping. And, he has been gone long before he thinks she’s awake.
Hailey hasn’t broached such a thing with him either. She doesn’t want to, in truth. Too concerned by what it could mean and what it could be paving a path to. It frightens her, if she is honest with herself. It scares her more than anything.
When Jay stands from his desk a couple of hours after the others have gone, shrugging into his jacket and leaning to close down his computer for the evening, Hailey is still working on the last of her report. She watches him as he moves, watching how he still doesn’t meet her eye. It’s no longer such a shock, but it stings all the same.
Hailey moves before she can stop herself, reaches out to gently press her fingers to his wrist when he begins to walk by the edge of her desk. She winces when she feels the twitch of his muscles beneath her fingers, immediately withdrawing her hand back into her own space.
Jay looks at her now, though Hailey can’t place the expression that he casts down to her. Not angry. Not disappointed. But, not the same soft and caring expression that she has grown so fond of over the years. Not the boyish grin and teasing eyes, either. Neutral, Hailey thinks. His expression is neutral.
“Will I see you at home?” she asks, whispers really. It feels as if she’s pressing her luck --crossing a boundary-- asking him such a simple question.
There’s more that she wants to say to him. There’s more that she wants to tell him. It all rolls and spins through her mind, flying up and dancing on her tongue. But, that would be stepping too far. That would be tempting too much.
It’s her fault that he’s hurting… that he’s looking at her as if she’s some stranger he doesn’t truly know. She won’t press him more. She can’t tempt pushing him even farther away from her.
The silence that lingers between them is tense, has been for nearly a week now. Hailey shifts awkwardly in her seat, fingers picking at a loose thread along the hemline of her shirt. It has been a long time since she has felt any lingering hints of awkwardness with him.
All at once, Jay’s eyes soften a fraction and Hailey feels the first bits of hope flutter up inside her chest.
“Yeah,” Jay says. He shifts on his feet, hands moving inside the pockets of his jacket. “Of course I’ll be there.”
Hailey nods, silently wishing for more. Still, she doesn’t push. This is the most that he has looked at her and lingered with her beyond professional necessity in nearly a week.
Don’t push, she tells herself.
“Okay,” she answers, giving him a tiny --hesitant-- smile. “I just need to finish this up and then I’ll be on my way home,” she goes on. Her words carry a promising edge to them… as if she’s trying to convey that she’s not going to make any unplanned pit stops… that she’s not going to stray. Hailey doesn’t quite know the reasoning behind the tone. She just feels like it’s necessary.
“You’re good.”
Hailey thinks he’s going to turn and head out on his own, something that has occurred each night this week. He lingers a second or two longer, still watching her. She watches him in return, that same awkward feeling humming beneath her skin. She’s surprised when he starts talking again.
“Want me to stay and wait on you?” he asks. “Will’s been texting me to swing by Molly’s, but I can tell him we’ll do it another time.”
Hailey immediately shakes her head, another little smile pulling at her mouth. “No. You should go. I’m not going to be that long.” Part of her wants to ask him to stay. But, that too feels like crossing a boundary. It feels like asking for something she is no longer privileged to.
Something briefly flashes through Jay’s eyes. It’s gone before Hailey can determine what it might be. More disappointment? More hurt? Had she said the wrong thing? She thinks about telling him to stay if he wants, thinks about saying she would like that and that they could grab dinner somewhere after she was done. All of those thoughts fall away when Jay gives another little nod and takes a step away from her desk.
“Be careful on the way home,” he tells her, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he can zip his jacket up.
“Tell Will ‘hello’ for me.” She watches him go, still thinking of everything that she wants to say and everything that she hasn’t said now that he knows what happened all those weeks ago when Roy disappeared .
Fingers still picking at the hem of her shirt, she calls out in a sudden rush of need, “Jay?” Hailey sees him pause just inches from the steps, glancing over his shoulder back at her. “Are…” she stops, suddenly uncertain of herself. He keeps watching her, something more fluttering across his face. Hailey’s fingers tighten in her shirt as she soldiers forward. “Are we good?” she finally asks, the words rushed.
The seconds tick by, neither of them speaking. The silence is enough to set her back on edge, to make the panic ripple harder beneath her skin. Hailey tenses when she sees Jay’s shoulders droop, when she hears the long and tired sounding sigh that he gives.
She’s pushed too much.
She should’ve known better.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” She struggles to find the words, struggles to understand just what she is apologizing for. For pushing him when it was clear he wanted space? Or, for everything else ?
The lines are too blurred for her to determine which it might be.
She shakes her head, turning her chair back to face her desk. “Tell Will I said ‘hello’ ,” she tells him again, drawing herself closer to her keyboard. Her hands immediately set to work, fingers typing along the keys. She tries desperately to push the sound of Jay’s sigh from her mind, tries to banish the sight of his shoulders drooping from her memory. For several seconds, all Hailey focuses on are the sounds of her fingers flying across the keys and the soothing whir of the heat filtering through the overhead vents.
Hailey is halfway through a seventh sentence when Jay’s form reappears at her side. She’s not expecting it, her fingers going still along the keys. The touch of his hand atop her own is even more surprising. Her fingers twitch and dance against the keyboard, her first instinct to pull away from him.
After all that she’s done, she doesn’t deserve such a gentle touch.
“I’m sorry,” she tells him again, drawing her hand away. “I wasn’t thinking,” she went on. “Don’t keep Will waiting.”
More silence follows her words. She stares down at the top of her desk, unable to chance looking up to where Jay now stands at her side. Hailey hears another tired sounding sigh above her and winces when she realizes that she is to blame for it.
“Hailey.” Jay’s voice is quiet when he speaks. He reaches back and takes hold of the hand she’s just withdrawn from his, fingers threading through her own. “Hey,” he murmurs, giving her hand a gentle tug. “I’m sorry,” he tells her.
The words hit her like a strike of lightning. She closes her eyes, head shaking again in answer. “Don’t do that,” she whispers, suddenly afraid of the hope that beats wilder inside her chest with his words. “Don’t apologize to me, Jay,” she tells him, her voice timid. She hates how it sounds. It sounds foreign to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
She shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have chanced it. She should have just let him do as he wanted.
For a harrowing moment, Hailey cannot determine if she is reflecting on this particular moment with Jay or if her thoughts have reverted back to that long night when she’d found Voight holding Roy hostage, attempting to beat Kim’s location out of him no matter the consequences.
Does it matter? It seems like no matter what choice she makes, no matter the situation, everything that she chooses is so utterly wrong.
“Hailey,” Jay tries again. His voice is still quiet, though there is an edge of firmness to it now. “Hailey, look at me,” he beseeches.
It’s always been difficult for Hailey to refuse that tone. She suspects that Jay knows that, though she hates that he is now using it to her disadvantage. Swallowing, her eyes turn up to look at the man. Hailey expects to see some sort of frustration lining his face. She expects to see the anger and the disappointment and the betrayal that she knows he’s been feeling because of her.
Nothing that she is expecting is reflected back to her when she looks up at him. Instead, for the first time in nearly a week, Hailey sees gentle understanding in his gaze. She sees pieces of Jay pre-fallout. And, again, hope starts to flutter about wildly inside her chest.
“I’m sorry,” Jay tells her again, his thumb stroking over the bumps of her knuckles.
“Why?” Hailey asks, curious. And, she is. If there is anyone that should apologize, it’s her. And she has -- more times than she can begin to count. It’s nowhere near enough after everything she’d put him through.
She doesn’t understand why he is telling her he’s sorry. She doesn’t understand what’s brought it on. He shouldn’t have anything to be sorry for.
“You asked if we were good,” Jay reminds. His thumb keeps its pace along the back of her hand as he shifts to prop himself against the edge of her desk. “And, you asked if I’d be home tonight.” He shakes his head, as if something he’s said --or something she’s said-- has shocked him to his very core. “Hailey, I don’t ever want you to think that I’m not going to come home to you. I’ll always come home to you. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”
Hailey listens, feeling that deep fluttering hope increase tenfold. Doubt overtakes it just as quickly, dousing it in its infancy and casting it down into smoldering ruin. “You don’t have to do that.”
I don’t want you to do that, she thinks. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I broke us. I broke you.
“If I’ve made you think, for even a second, that I’d ever think about not coming home to you, then I need to tell you I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, dragging his free hand over his face. “I haven’t been mad at you,” he promises. “I was trying to… understand. Trying to figure out what to do.” He looks at her again, his expression solemn. “I’m sorry if you thought I was mad at you. I’m sorry if you thought I was pulling away.”
She hates that he keeps saying that. She hates the look he’s casting down at her, that open and vulnerable look that she’s seen from him more and more this past year. Hailey hates this entire situation. She hates what she’s allowed to happen to them.
She hates herself most of all.
“Hailey, we’re good. I swear we’re good.”
‘We’re good. And, we’re always gonna be good.’
The sentiment rings with familiarity. And, once more, it feels as though it has been dredged up from a lifetime before.
When Jay gives her hand another soft squeeze, Hailey realizes that she’s yet to say anything in return. She tries for another smile and a quick nod of her head. Jay immediately shakes his own, fingers tightening around her own.
“Talk to me, Hailey,” he murmurs.
She nods again... tries for one more smile. “Okay,” she whispers. Her fingers flex in his own, curling until they are wrapped carefully around his own. “We’re good.”
Hailey desperately wishes to believe him. She wants to cling to such assurances, wants to hold on to them as she continues to claw herself from the pit that Voight’s actions have nearly buried her in. It’s always going to be easier when Jay is with her… when she knows that he is with her no matter the trials that might come.
But, Hailey can sense the lie in his words. She can sense the fracture that has already formed between them, one that she knows will widen into an insurmountable chasm as time passes by them.
Nothing is fine between them. And, as much as Hailey wishes to believe that it will be the two of them against the odds that may come their way, she knows better. Jay is simply too good to say what he truly wants to say.
Jay smiles at her, something small and easy. “We’re good,” he repeats.
He’s leaning to her in the next second to brush a quick kiss to her temple. The bruised flesh around her eye and at her cheek have faded from the mottled purple and navy to lighter shades. It will still be several more days before they disappear entirely. The area remains tender to touch.
Hailey keeps still, berating herself when she nearly flinches at the contact. It’s something more that she should be thankful for, something that she should be smiling over. She feels undeserving of the affection, undeserving of everything that Jay is doing by staying with her and talking to her.
“Sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, drawn back from her and sitting taller on the edge of her desk.
“You shouldn’t cancel your plans with Will because of me.” She’s not going to take one more thing from him after everything she’s robbed him of the last few weeks.
“I’d rather be with you,” Jay says, his tone genuine. “I can meet up with him whenever.”
“Jay.” She tries to lace her voice with a tiny laugh. The sound does not sound quite as convincing as she had hoped. “I’ll be okay. Go see Will. I’ll meet you at home in a little while.”
That same, unknown, look briefly flashes across Jay’s face. Hailey sees it before it fades away. She still cannot determine what it is.
“Alright,” he relents, watching her another beat. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” she insists.
“Text me when you leave here,” Jay tells her, finally standing again. He still keeps hold of her hand. “And call me when you get home.”
“I’m armed, Jay,” she reminds, giving him another little smile. Her words are a practical jest. “I can take care of myself.”
“Hailey,” Jay sighs. The sound is more fond in place of bothered.
“Fine. Only if you text me when you get to Molly’s and when you’re leaving to come home.” It seems like a fair compromise. And, Hailey does want to know that he’s safe. Nothing is ever going to change that for her. No matter what happens to them, she’s always going to worry over him.
“Anything you want.” He leans forward, pressing another kiss to her temple. “I’ll see you at home.”
With a nod, Hailey watches as he steps away from her, his hand finally falling away from her own. It’s only after he’s gone, after his footsteps have faded and there is only the silence that she feels the panic clawing at the back of her mind. She tries to push it away, tries to keep it at bay.
But, the silence is deafening.
And, fear is already winning.