#adam ruzek
CHICAGO P.D. | 1.15| A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP
BURZEKWATER IN CHICAGO P.D. | 9.22|YOU AND ME
Words: 1063
Warnings: Arguing?
A/N: About the requests I have in, (they’re 17 if I’m not mistaken?) I’m writing them, guys! I haven’t forgotten! It’s just going slowly, because I work full-time in front of a screen and sitting down in front of another one after clocking out isn’t quite appealing. Nonetheless, I’m writing them! I’ll try to go on a writing spree this weekend, hopefully things will smooth down then! :)
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4 | Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9 |Part 10
You stop by the kitchen window on your way back, watching the road and prompting Jay to get up and do the same. He stands right behind you, shirt still on his hand as you both watch the black SUV parked behind Jay’s truck. You move quickly, slipping on some shoes and grabbing your gun from under the kitchen island, noticing how Jay’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Whoa, (Y/N), wait up.” He says, scrambling to put his shirt back on as you walk out the door with purpose on your step. He runs after you, his hand on his own gun as you cross the street.
The SUV’s doors open and Jay sighs as he sees Adam and Kim get out with their hands raised.
“Sorry, sorry!” Adam says, pointing at his badge as Jay reaches you, your gun lowering slowly. “We just didn’t want to interrupt something since Jay wasn’t answering his phone and his truck is here… and we saw him shirtless through the window.”
Jay shoots him a look as you tuck your gun into the waist of your pajama pants, looking at them sternly.
“They work with me, Adam Ruzek and Kim Burgess.” He introduces, watching as you nod in understanding, recognizing the woman from the anthrax call.
“Why are you here, then?” You ask, turning on your heel and walking back towards the apartment building. “We can have this conversation inside, it’s cold out.”
The four of you make your way back into your house, gathering around the kitchen island as you put the gun back in its’ hiding spot.
“We got an unsettling package after Jay left the precinct.” Adam says as Kim sets a folder down on the table and opens it gingerly, spreading the contents on top of the marble.
Your hand shoots out and grabs a large wad of paper, your hands shaking as you skim through the pages and recognize it as the report from your last mission in Afghanistan. You turn it away from everyone, knowing its’ contents and not wanting them to see, but the look on Kim’s eyes lets you know she already did. You slam the wad back on the island, looking intently at Adam and Kim.
“How do you have this?” You say, looking at the pictures Jay is spreading across the table and seeing some from your last shift along with one taken minutes ago, when Jay knocked on your door. “What the hell?”
“Eric.” Jay mutters, making you turn to him. “It’s my fault, I should have just gone home.”
“Who’s Eric?” You ask, running your hands through your hair.
“The guy from the anthrax. I’m really sorry (Y/N), I shouldn’t have come here, I put you on the line.”
“That’s not true, Jay.” Adam clears up, waving a piece of paper. “He left this note in the package, detailing how he was entranced by (Y/N) when he saw her yesterday, and how he felt angry and betrayed that the two of you know each other.”
“That bastard winked at me yesterday, when he ran away.” You mutter pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. “Do you have anything substantial about him?”
“Not quite.” Kim admits, looking between you and Jay. “He hides his tracks very well; we’re having trouble with pinning him down to make a bust.”
“What if you lure him out?” You suggest, earning shocked looks from the three cops on your kitchen. “I’ve done it before in much worse circumstances, and it worked. And I’m not about to stop my life just because some bug-eyed psycho decided he wanted to mess with me.”
“Absolutely not.” Jay interjects before anyone has a chance to speak, making you raise a brow at him. “He’s incredibly suspicious, and he knows you hang out with cops. He won’t fall for it.”
“He also knows I’m ex-military, and yet he’s still pulling this.” You counter, watching as Jay shakes his head again.
“No, you’re not going into the line of danger like that.” He says stubbornly, and you feel your blood begin to boil.
“I’m a grown-ass woman with a military past to make many pale in comparison, I think I can handle being in the line of danger.” You snap, watching as Jay’s face hardens.
“Yeah, last time I saw you do that it didn’t go over too well.”
“It went well enough, clearly, since I’m still alive.”
“Voight would never approve it, and I’m not about to watch you do that when it can be prevented. Last time I couldn’t do anything, but now I can.” He growls, his knuckles becoming white as he grips the marble top of the kitchen island. “It’s not happening.”
“Look, (Y/N), we know what you’re capable of, we had to read the folder.” Kim intervenes, noticing how angry the two of you are getting. “But we also know what Eric can do, and we don’t want to put anyone in that position.”
“He tied me to a pole in a room full of anthrax, fully intending to expose me to it once he was done interrogating me.” Jay says, crossing his arms. “I’m not risking losing you again, (Y/N).”
Your scowl softens with his confession, being replaced with a look of confusion. Adam and Kim retrieve the contents of the package, placing them back on the evidence box as you stare at Jay.
“We’ll be in touch, but we have to return to the precinct now.” Kim says, nearly dragging Adam out the door with her.
The door closes and you lean against the counter, watching the man in front of you as you wait for him to elaborate his previous statement.
“What?” He asks, shifting as he feels uncomfortable under your stare.
“You don’t know half of what we lost, Jay. Both as individuals and collectively.” You mutter, shaking your head as you turn back around, rinsing the mugs on your sink.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“What for? It’s lost to the time, stuck in the past. It’s no use musing about what was or could have been, because it’ll never be. It’s irrelevant now.” You dry your hands, turning to find him looking at you with pleading eyes. You run your hands through your face, feeling your eyes heavy. “I think it’s better if you go now, I’m tired and want to sleep some more.”
-
@thexplosivegirl|@godohammers|@savingprivatecass | @princxss-fia | @fullwattpadmusictree | @bethii1 | @doramstr | @annaallicce | @hehurst23 | @dreamslove92 | @lostsoulwalking | @magicxshadows | @lookatallthefeels | @miranda0102 | @killjoys-make-some-noise-na-na | @corebore123 | @talicat713 | @jayxuptons | @detectiveinchicago | @cozyfandoms | @justanotheronechicagofan | @redsmemories | @nocturnalherb16 | @lovejessejay | @zizzlekwum | @music-is-my-escape71 | @inlovewith3 | @panaitbeatrice | @goingwiththewind | @sesamepancakes | @caitoszmerlo | @rebel-without-care | @poguesvixen | @cookiecakeslive | @csigeoblue (I’m sorry but the notif never came in, I was going through the notes yesterday and saw you asked, I’m soooooorryyyyyyyyyyy :( )
Words: 1719
Warnings: Bruises?
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4 | Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8 |Part 9
The end of the shift doesn’t come soon enough, and you bolt up when the buzzer sounds out. You move to the locker room, quickly changing into your civilian clothes and leaving the firehouse, deciding to walk home.
You put on your headphones and adjust your beanie before starting your route, glad that your apartment isn’t very far from the firehouse.
When you notice, you’re standing in front of your door and you unlock it, stepping inside and kicking off your sneakers. You shake the snow off your coat into the street and remove your beanie, hanging them both on the coatrack by the door.
Turning on the kettle, you lean against the kitchen counter and nearly jump when your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. You frown, looking at the caller ID before answering the call.
“Hey!” Mouse’s voice sounds cheery on the other side and you rub a hand through your face.
“I don’t know how you manage to be so chirpy so early in the morning, but please tell me.”
“I heard you had a crazy shift, how are you doing?” You press your lips into a thin line, staring out the window.
“Well, I’m fine. Your friend was worse off than me.”
“Whoa there, ‘my friend’? What’s up?”
“Don’t play dumb, Mouse. You know what happened, I’m sure Jay told you.” You cringe when you hear your own voice so cold and hard. “Sorry, last shift was stressful.”
“I can imagine. Anthrax must not be easy to deal with.”
“Yeah, it’s not. Can we talk later? I’m really not in the right mindset for a conversation right now.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. Talk to you later, then.”
“See you, Mouse. Take care.”
You end the call and pour some of the warm water and a tea bag on a mug, warming your hands on it before taking a sip and heading to your room, setting the mug on your night stand and changing into a pair of fluffy, comfy pajamas.
You sit on the bed and lean against the headboard, retrieving the mug and drinking some more.
-
“How are we on Eric?” Voight asks, standing in the middle of the bullpen.
“He has more hideouts than the ones I was in.” Jay says, holding an icepack to his cheek. “We have no idea where he might be, but at least we managed to secure the anthrax.”
“I thought I told you to go home, Halstead.” The Sergeant’s voice is harsh, but Jay doesn’t relent.
“And do what? Stare at the wall while you guys are here trying to catch him?”
“Halstead. Go home.”
Jay clenches his free fist, engaging in a stare-off with Voight.
“Jay, man.” Adam calls, forcing him to divert his gaze. “Go home, or to the hospital even. You need to rest.”
The rest of the unit nods in agreement and Jay scowls, getting up and grabbing his jacket before storming off the bullpen. He only stops once he’s in his truck, turning on the heating as he sits behind the wheel, staring at the road in front of him as he recalls what happened in the last 24 hours.
He turns the key and the truck comes to life as he pulls out of the parking space, only stopping in front of the familiar apartment building. He knows he’s probably going to regret what he’s doing, but he parks the truck and exits, locking it up before he heads towards the door.
He stops in front of the door, debating mentally if he really should do this or not before he finally knocks. He hears rustling on the inside before the door opens, revealing you in a set of fluffy pajamas wiping the sleep off your face. Your eyebrows furrow when your sight focuses on him and you can’t hide the hurt that flashes on your eyes; it makes his heart clench and his mind fill with regret.
“What are you doing here, Jay?” Your voice is raspy and sounds tired, and he kicks himself mentally: he probably woke you up when he knocked. “Is everything ok?”
“I know I shouldn’t be here, but I had to say I’m sorry.” He blurts out, making you blink a couple of times in confusion. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did the other day, I was stupid, I’m sorry. If it got you in any trouble with Carl tell me and I’ll talk to him, it was my fault-”
“Carl and I broke up.” You cut him off, your voice neutral as if you are stating that the sky is blue. “Nothing to do with what happened between us. He had been cheating on me for a while.”
“What?” It’s his turn to be confused. “Carl cheated on you? On what grounds?”
You open the door a little wider and step aside, gesturing at him to come inside. He enters and shrugs off his jacket, hanging it in the coatrack next to yours.
“Want coffee, tea?” You offer, going into the kitchen. He promptly follows you.
“Coffee would be nice, haven’t slept since yesterday.” He sighs, looking at you as you calmly prepare the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot.
“He cheated on me on the grounds that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with a veteran who became a firefighter and who risks her life on the job. You know, the usual.” You say, shrugging as you grab a mug from the cabinet. Jay feels like his mouth is hanging open when you turn back around, a conformed look on your face.
“That makes no sense, why didn’t he just talk to you?” He cringes as he hears the shock on his voice. You shrug again, pouring the freshly made coffee into the mug and giving it to him.
“Ask him, I sure as hell didn’t ask for an explanation. I told him to get his stuff, gave him the ring back and sent him on his way.”
“It was the best thing you could have done.” He says, noticing how you’re examining his face. “What?”
“Did you clean that cut on your forehead?” You ask, crossing your arms. “It doesn’t look too good.”
“I kind of denied medical care.” He says, making your eyebrows shoot up before scrunching down again.
“Are you out of your mind?” You almost shriek, stalking out of the kitchen and returning with a first-aid kit. “You should be more careful, and not deny medical care.”
You grab a gauze strip and pour some of the antiseptic solution on it before wiping his wound gently, inspecting it up-close before stepping away.
“They tested if I had any anthrax on me and when it came back negative, I walked. It’s just a few bruises on the ribs and that cut.” He says, making her huff.
“Show me the bruises.” You command, your face hardening when he just stares at you. “Halstead, show me the bruises. It could be something more than simple bruising, you can have cracked or even broken ribs.”
“I’ve had five of those before, and I’m fine.”
“I’m pretty sure that you had proper medical care too, or else you wouldn’t be.” You grumble, crossing your arms. “I’m waiting.”
Jay sighs as he removes his shirt, goosebumps forming on his skin as the cold air hits him. You scrunch your nose as you see the bruises marking his chest, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you examine him.
“Halstead!” Your voice is slightly panicked when you see him and the rest of the reckon team come back with blood on their uniforms and bruises and cuts on their faces. He’s limping, supported by another Ranger that looks like he could use some help, so you rush forward and grab Jay from the other side, easing him onto your shoulders and carrying some of his weight. “What happened?”
“We found some friends during the reckon.” A Ranger replies, shrugging. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, ultimately.”
You walk Jay to the barracks, helping him sit on his bed before you kneel in front of him, examining his face.
“I’m fine.” He says sweetly, grabbing your hands. “It’s just some bruising.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, your eyes scanning his face. He nods, one of his hands leaving yours to gently cup your cheek.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He grins at you. “With all our plans now, do you really think I’m going to let some bruises get in the way of making a life with you?”
“Do you experience any shortness of breath or severe pain when breathing?” You ask, tracing one of his lower ribs in an attempt to feel for a crack and snapping him out of his flashback. “Did anything make a cracking noise?”
“No to everything. It hurts if you press on them, as bruises usually do.” He sasses, hissing when you poke one finger into a bruise with an unamused expression.
“Who would’ve thought!” You say sarcastically, turning back to the little pouch and taking a tube of cream out, unscrewing the cap before squeezing some onto your palm. “This is a very specific balm that helps bruises drain faster. It was my best friend during the academy and some of the harder weeks on the job.”
You gently massage it into his bruises, one by one until they are all covered in a thin layer of cream and the room smells lightly of menthol. You notice how he’s still freckled, but also how the number of scars on him has increased. You screw the cap back in and hand him the tube.
“It’s ok, I don’t need it.” He tries to argue as you turn your back to him and gather the rest of the things back into the bag, zipping it up.
“Take it, Jay.” You say, taking the bag back to the bathroom.
You stop by the kitchen window on your way back, watching the road and prompting Jay to get up and do the same. He stands right behind you, shirt still on his hand as you both watch the black SUV parked behind Jay’s truck. You move quickly, slipping on some shoes and grabbing your gun from under the kitchen island, noticing how Jay’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
-
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From Anon:
Hey girl! Would you mind doing another Jay Halstead pr maybe Jesse Lee Soffer imagine/one shot*? Maybe being the hidden girlfriend? Thanks hun!
Words: 2147
Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, canonical violence
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Officer!Reader
A/N: This ask has two viable one shots, actually. I did this one now, but I’ll probably pick up the JLS sometime in the future. Hope you like it, hun!
Deep down, both of you knew this day would come. The day when Voight barked out to bring a uniform up for an undercover stint, and the Intelligence member brought you up.
Jay tries to interfere and go with Adam as he goes to get one of the officers down at the lobby, but Voight quickly shuts him down, remembering him that Adam knew the suspect’s type better than Jay. His jaw clenches and his hands close into fists as Adam goes down the stairs, already knowing you are going to be the one he brings up.
The two of you have been dating for a few months, and Jay liked having you to himself. By hiding your relationship, not only are the two of you not in the public eye for dating each other - the last thing you need is someone calling you a badge bunny and saying you’re sleeping with Jay to climb the hierarchy - but you are also out of the line of immediate danger that comes with dating a law enforcement agent, inevitably becoming a target.
At first, Jay wasn’t very keen on the idea of you: a new cop with shiny eyes and hope in the world; he knew you would be shattered by the job, and he didn’t want to watch it. But then he started warming up to you. He couldn’t pin down what you had done exactly, if it was how you refused to drop your kindness with Platt, or how you could offer an input that he hadn’t seen, or how you would charge in, gun in hand with unwavering intent when someone’s life was at risk… it was probably how you didn’t try to take pity in him or treat him like a baby when you saw him having a particularly nasty flashback that made him freeze in the middle of the locker room. You had just grabbed his hands in yours and gently coaxed him out, giving him the visual help of the “Chicago Police Department” badge on your vest - you would never know how much it meant to him.
He had seen your determination falter over the time, but he always tried to make you get back up on the positivity horse; secretly, it kept him going too, the idea that someone could see so much good in the world and still believe in the best possible outcome. It was something rare and precious, in your line of work.
So, when Adam comes back to the bullpen with you in tow, Jay feels like punching him. He feels like going out on a solo manhunt and face the consequences of it, if it means that you won’t be brought into this case. But he watches you walk into Voight’s office and nod after the Sergeant explains what he called you up for. He knows that you would never refuse the opportunity to help other people - that’s why you had become an officer in the first place.
He sits in his chair, resigned, as he watches you and Voight leave the office.
“So, officer (Y/L/N) will go undercover as an immigrant that needs help getting the rest of her family inside, no matter the cost.” Voight says, pointing at the board. The pictures of 7 women are pinned in, their faces stuck in an eery, eternal smile, unknowing of the atrocities that committed against them. All they wanted was to give their families a better life.
Jay meets you in the locker room after he makes sure that no one saw the two of you entering, and crosses his arms.
“There’s no chance I’m talking you out of this, is there?” He asks, his voice small and defeated. You turn back, already wearing your civilian clothes, and give him a reassuring smile as you lay your hands atop his forearms.
“I’m a good cop, and this will be over quickly.” You say, lightly rubbing his arms. “It has to be done, they can’t keep killing these women.”
“What if something happens?” He asks, his brows furrowed - you don’t quite grasp the seriousness and danger of this, and it worries him deeply. “It’s more dangerous than you think.”
“Jay… I’ve been a cop in Chicago for a while. A beat cop. I’m cussed at and thrown things at for existing. There, I’m going to be a girl that they’re going to underestimate. The only way this can go wrong is if they figure out I’m a cop, and that’s a risk every undercover takes, and that you have also taken several times.” You grab his face. “It’s going to be ok.”
-
Unintentionally, you had jinxed yourself in your conversation with Jay. Not in a thousand years would you have thought that the measly drug dealer you arrested a couple weeks ago would be involved with a human trafficking ring, and when he saw you, you knew it was over. He shouted to everyone how you were a “pig”, how you were there to arrest them all. You had stood your ground, unwavering, claiming you had never seen him before in your life and had no idea what he was blabbering about, but no one bought it. They ganged up on you and you knew that resistance was futile and would only hurt you further.
And now, 3 days later, here you are. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, laying on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere by the river, in between torture sessions. The big boss doesn’t know who you work for - all he knows is that you’re with law enforcement. He’s too paranoid and knows that CPD isn’t the only one after him, and even though he knows you’re CPD, he has no idea if you’re working directly for them or if you’ve been “scouted” by a bigger agency.
Your mind rarely leaves your memories of Jay, trying to isolate and disassociate yourself from the prodding metal and angry fists connecting with the several different parts of your body. A small part of you hangs on to hope that Jay and the rest of Intelligence are coming for you, but the bigger part tells you that they either won’t make it in time, or that they think you’re already dead.
The footsteps in the hallway drag you out of your thoughts and you raise bloodshot eyes to glare at the grunt in front of you. He hastily pulls you up by one arm and drags you into another room, different from the one you had been beaten in. There’s a hook hanging from the ceiling, but there’s also a chair and some blades arranged neatly by the chair. The thing that jumps at you is the camera standing in the corner of the room, hooked to a computer, and aimed at the hook and chair. The grunt stands with you by the door as the boss walks into the room, walking with his usual swagger towards the camera.
“Since I don’t know who my little toy is working for, here’s what is going on: to whom it may concern, this bitch is at my mercy, and either her employer comes forward, or I’m going to kill her.” He says darkly as the grunt drags you into further inside, near the hook.
You put on your best brave face as he hangs you in the hook by the bindings on your wrists. Your shoulders scream at you but you refuse to show pain. The boss sits on the chair next to you and the grunt leaves, making it just the two of you in the room. He grabs a small, yet sharp blade from the assortment and turns to you, smirking darkly.
“So, I’ll ask you again. Who are you working for?"
"Your mom.” You spit at him, biting your tongue to not cry out when the blade cuts across the skin in your stomach.
-
The mug in Jay’s hand hits the floor the second he sees the screen of his computer taken over by a video of a dark, grimy room, with you hanging from a hook and a slimy-looking guy in a suit passing around you with a large blade in hand.
He knew to fear something bad when they stopped getting the daily debriefs from you, but part of him had been influenced by you into thinking it was the best-case scenario: maybe you had gone deep to the point of not being able to contact them, but were about to resurface with enough evidence to nail every single interferent in the trafficking ring. He feels his heart sink to his stomach and his legs threaten to give out as his gaze fixates on the screen. Your face is bloody and bruised, along with the rest of your body, but your expression is one of stubbornness; whatever the guy is asking of you, you’re not complying.
“This would all be over much quicker if you told me who you’re working for.” The guy snarks, and your expression remains unchanging.
“We both know you’re going to kill me either way, just get it over with. Besides, I already told you I’m working for your mom.” His fist connects with your ribs and you give out a pained chuckle. Jay’s fists close up as anger begins to boil and cloud his head. “Or maybe for Brutus over there. Maybe you’re his Ceasar, and he’s waiting for the right chance to stab you in the back thirty times. Now seems like a good time, Brutus.”
Voight bolts out of his office, vest on one hand, and a post-it note on the other.
“A contact of mine got me an address. Let’s role.” He barks out sternly. Jay bolts out behind him and the whole team gets in the armory, putting on their vests and grabbing their choice of weapon before getting into the cars and driving towards the address Voight’s contact had given him.
Jay checks his three guns yet again: one Glock 19 in his hip holster, one Glock 17 in his thigh holster, and an AK-47 in his hand. He knows every moment from breach is going to count, and the longer they take to get to you, the worse the outcome can be.
The car comes to a stop and he turns off the security in the AK, rolling his shoulders as he steps out of the car and stealths towards one of the entrances. He peeks through a window, seeing two grunts. He gestures what he saw towards the rest of the team and prepares for breach, kicking in the door when Voight says so.
He feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins and doesn’t stop until he’s passed the guarded area. The hallways are silent and he strains his ears, trying to pick up something, anything that will guide him to you.
In the room, you’re still dangling from the ceiling when the loud noises snap the guy from yet another monologue about how it would be easier for you to just give up and blah blah blah. Honestly, you had started to tune out the moment he opened his mouth, already knowing some variation of what was about to leave his lips.
“Go check out whatever that was!” He barks at the grunt, making you focus on the door as the other man exits through it. Before you realize what’s happening, a shot rings out and the grunt falls back into the room, making the boss jump in fright. You see Jay slowly stepping over the body, AK steadily trained on the suited guy standing by your legs.
“If you move another inch, I’m blowing your brains out.” Jay growls out as the other man tries to reach for the gun on the chair. “My finger is feeling very, very trigger-happy, and I just need you to give me a reason to give it what it wants.”
You feel tears prickling at your eyes, both of joy and of pent up frustration and fear, flinching when you see the man moving towards his gun and Jay delivering a clean shot to his chest, dropping him to the floor instantly.
The AK hits the floor with a clatter before Jay rushes to you, unhooking you and lowering you to the floor before wrapping you in a bear hug. You feel yourself starting to sob as you hide your face on his neck, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped by Jay and his scent surrounding you.
“I would die happy if I died like this.” You mutter into his neck, feeling him chuckle as he pulls away.
“You’re not dying anytime soon, I’ll waltz in and save you every time.” Jay says, retrieving his AK and slinging it over his chest before he picks you up. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Words: 1165
Warnings: Canonical violence
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4 | Part 5|Part 6|Part 7
“Talk to me, Halstead.” Kim presses as she notices the distraught look on his face, shifting in the car seat. He looks at her briefly before looking back at the warehouse they’re staking out.
“What do you expect me to talk about?” He asks curtly, snapping some photos of a couple of suspicious looking guys that exit the warehouse.
“About whatever is on your mind, because you’re clearly not yourself today.”
“I’m fine, Kim.” He mutters, this time capturing pictures of a van that’s entering the warehouse. “Can we focus on this stakeout, please?”
“For someone who’s supposed to go undercover and be convincing, you’re shit at lying.” She rants, crossing her arms. Jay turns, looking at her like she had just had the most brilliant idea ever.
“Undercover!” He exclaims, pulling out his phone and calling Voight. “Boss, I have an idea about how we can crack the case.”
-
The next day he finds himself regretting his decision. They suspected it was just some relatively harmless arms dealing, but when Jay finally earned the ringleader’s trust to get into his house and see the massive network of underground tunnels and bunkers, he quickly realized there had to be something else going on.
“Should I invest in one of those?” Jay half-jokes, pointing at the bunkers. The ringleader, Eric, turns to Jay and gives him an unsettling grin.
Eric is scrawny and pale, his eyes bug out of his skull and are glazed more often than not, making his stare disturbing; Jay finds himself on the receiving end of that stare too many times to his taste.
“If you value surviving, probably. But we still have some empty bunkers, you can claim one for yourself.” Eric’s grin grows wider when he notices the confusion on Jay’s face. “Let’s just say we do business with more than one kind of weapons.”
Every siren in Jay’s mind goes off with that sentence: Eric deals biological weapons. Jay gives him a nod, wrecking his mind for an excuse to leave and contact the rest of Intelligence.
“Maybe I could just skip town, no?” Jay suggests, shrugging. “I don’t do well in closed spaces.”
Eric raises a brow at him, smirking.
“In that case, you should skip the state.” The scrawny man says, laughing.
“And when is that going to happen? To book a way to bail.” Jay says, eyeing the man in search of a sign that he’s getting suspicious but not finding any.
“Some time in the next month. The December snow won’t be white this year.”
Jay gets goosebumps from Eric’s laugh, quietly pressing the volume key on his phone the way Mouse programmed it to ring a fake call. A few seconds later the ringtone floods the empty room and Jay excuses himself, exiting the room to take the “call”. Upon returning, he gives Eric a bullshit excuse about how one of his shipments got busted at the borders and he must go and find a way to bail his courier.
Jay doesn’t notice the way Eric frowns as he turns his back on him, or how he grabs his phone and sends a text to one of his contacts.
Jay rushes into a deserted alley, spotting the surveillance truck on the other side of the street. Adam meets him in the alley, disguised as a homeless man.
“You look spooked.” Adam comments as they move further down the alley to avoid prying eyes.
“They’re also moving bioweapons.” Jay blurts, watching as Adam’s eyes go wide. “Yeah, and apparently, they’re doing something next month, statewide.”
“Does he have any other warehouse or anything of the sort? Something off the records?”
“Not that I know of, but I’ve only been in his ring for a day. He wouldn’t tell me about a bioweapon stash just like that.” Jay sighs. “I’m going to press for it later today after I ‘deal’ with my courier.”
“Take this.” Adam says, slipping him a small ceramic blade. “There’s a tracker and a bug embedded in the hilt, and Voight said the stress word is ‘Marine’. We’ll be as close to you as we can.”
Jay stalls for a bit, eventually sending Eric a text through his undercover phone about how the courier thing took longer than expected and that he’ll go back to meet with him tomorrow.
He can’t really sleep, not only due to the noise provided by the bad neighborhood his undercover apartment was in, but mostly due to fear and nerves about the assignment. He isn’t one to feel like this often, but when it comes to something he can’t quite control, he feels uneasy.
His mind betrays him and drifts to you and your kiss. He knows it was wrong, but it felt so right; it felt like you connected most of the broken pieces that litter his heart. But you’re engaged, and not even the fact that you’re having second thoughts makes it ok for him to kiss you or try to take you away from Carl.
Clearly, Carl had been there when Jay couldn’t, when Jay didn’t even remember you existed, and he has to accept it, has to accept that even though he found a lost part of himself in you, you’re out of reach; and even if you were within reach, he had been through a lot with his recovery from Deft Hawk, his time as a Detective, and Erin, and it would be unfair to dump all of that on top of a woman that clearly already had more than enough to deal with on her own.
He drifts off to sleep with thoughts of you and wonders of what relationship you really had during your deployment.
The second he steps into the warehouse in the morning, a blunt instrument meets the back of his head and he crumbles to the floor. When he comes to, there’s a black bag on his head and he can feel his arms restrained behind his back. He feels the small ceramic blade resting against his calf, cursing inwardly for putting it out of his reach.
He hears steps coming towards him and tenses up as the bag is removed, revealing Eric standing in front of him with a disapproving look on his face.
“Did you really think you were going to trick me, Detective Halstead?” Eric spits as Jay looks around, noticing the several barrels surrounding them on the small room.
“No, not really. I just hoped to stall you enough to get evidence on you.” Jay remarks, earning a punch by one of Eric’s goons. He feels the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and spits it out before looking back at Eric. “This is your bio stash, huh? Anthrax?”
“What leads you to believe that?” Eric snarls, unintentionally letting Jay know he’s right.
“Well, I don’t have to be a specialized marine to get that those barrels are hazardous.” He says, silently praying that his team would get the message.
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