Chapter Text
Six months later
Holding the envelope, his hands shake a little. This right here will decide his future. A paper with four little words on it. He takes a deep shuddering breath.
Will’s hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You got this, little brother.”
Jay looks sideways at Will, smiling. Ever since that day in New York, Will has aced out on the support scale. The biggest brother-hen there ever was. And exactly what Jay has needed. Not that everybody else was not supporting him. They were, still are. Whenever he needs someone to ground him, there are a bunch of people he can call, day and night, no matter the time. He knows he is lucky. And over the last six months, he needed less and less help. But they were there the whole time. And none more than Will.
He nods at Will. “Okay, let’s do this.” He rips the envelope open and unfolds the piece of paper. A rock the size of Texas lifts from his heart, and he lets the paper sink, tears of relief pooling in his eyes.
“Jay? What does it say?”
“Cleared for active duty.” His voice sounds a little choked, but Will understands and pulls him into a sideways hug.
“Told you.” He smiles at Jay. “Alright! Let’s get you to work, and tonight we’ll have one ginormous celebration with all your friends at Molly’s! Drinks on me.”
Jay pulls up one of his eyebrows, smirking. “I’ll take you up on that!”
He lets himself be pulled up from the couch, getting another tight hug from his big brother before he can free himself and get ready for his first day back at work. His first real day. Not light duty behind a desk, answering phones, doing paperwork. Active duty.
He passed his physical exam weeks ago, all that was missing was the psych exam, and that had happened last week. In his heart, he knew that he had passed, but there still lingered the seed of doubt in the back of his mind, because the last six months have been difficult for him.
In the beginning, he was never left alone in his room. Either Will or Mouse was always with him, day and night, never leaving his bedside, always reassuring him that this was real. The others were there, too, rotating between supporting him, getting rest and helping to hunt whoever did this to him.
In the week he had to stay at Mount Sinai, Dr. Wellington came over daily, working with him to accept this reality as the real one. He made Jay describe places he knew in Chicago from his “delusion”, had him describe details of things he would only know if he really knew the places. Jay told him about Molly’s, how all the important meetings or after case drinks always happen there. He could describe the place in detail, especially the line of burnt wood on the bar where Arthur, the mobster, tried to torch the place. Wellington had Jay video-call Gabby, showing him the bar, all the things he had described, showing him that all this was real. They worked their way like this around his favorite spots in Chicago, and it helped Jay accept what was real and what was not.
Mouse helped him when the nightmares set in. He was the only one who could pull him out of the horror that were his dreams, holding him and guiding him back into reality. Together they managed to put those things away, create new doors in the Atrium of his mind and lock the things away, so he could work through them one at a time.
After the first week, Jay was released into the care of his brother, and they went home to Chicago. Mouse was on leave for three weeks and stayed with them for the entire time. When it was time for him to go back, Jay knew he was grounded enough to go on without his best friend. It pained him to say goodbye to Mouse, knowing that he would be back in a war zone, back in constant danger, but he didn’t need him anymore to guide him out of his confusion and back into reality.
The weeks passed, and Jay got stronger. Physically and mentally. After initial reservations, Jay took the first step and started meeting with Dr. Charles. To keep working on the trauma, overcome the anxiety, the uncertainness, the sudden bouts of fear and panic to be stuck in a delusion. But he knew he would get past all this, was assured by his friends, his family.
And today, he finally reached his goal to go back to work, on active duty.
Will drops him off at the station, and before he can exit the truck, he feels his brother’s hand on his arm. He looks over to see a sincere smile on Will’s face.
“You can do this, okay? You worked so hard, and you made it! And I can’t tell you enough, how proud I am of you!”
Jay returns his brother’s smile, patting Will’s hand on his arm. “Thanks. See you tonight!”
And with a last look back, he enters the 21st, taking two steps at a time.
Entering the bullpen, he is greeted by cheers from everyone, making him feel a little uncomfortable. How they all already know that he’s cleared for active duty is beyond him, but they celebrate it, celebrate him. It gives him a warm feeling in the core of his being, despite the discomfort of being the center of attention.
After the initial hellos and welcomes and the promise of a big celebration at Molly’s tonight, they settle down to do paperwork. Jay looks around the bullpen, at his friends who helped him get back on his feet. His gaze passes over “his” case board. The case is still open, unsolved. They haven’t found the man responsible for his involuntary stay at Creedmore. The sketch made with Dr. Wellington’s help of the fake “Will” is pinned to the center of the board.
Daniel Bonin.
The facial recognition didn’t bring any results, but Jay recognized the face once his mind had the time to settle down a little. He had seen the man at the VA clinic once or twice. A volunteer. Didn’t know the name, but as soon as he was able to give his team that information, they went back to the clinic to ask around. Only one of the janitors remembered the quiet man. He had helped with janitorial work from time to time, always keeping to himself, never afraid to get his hands dirty.
With the name, the team found his last known address easily, but the apartment was abandoned, cleared out and wiped clean. They weren’t able to locate any friends or family of Bonin. He had been in the system since the age of four. The junkie mother was long dead of an overdose. The father had been in jail more time than out, had been stabbed to death in a jail riot a few years back. There were no other living relatives, no siblings, no grandparents. The boy had gone from foster family to foster family, enduring abuse and neglect his entire childhood. As soon as he was of age, Bonin disappeared off the radar. They couldn’t find anything on him for the last ten years. Even though they had a name, there were no new leads, nothing they could pursue.
Jay doesn’t have much hope that they will ever find Bonin or the reason why he shipped him off to New York. And he works hard on making peace with that.
Suddenly, his phone chimes with an incoming call from Mouse. Frowning, he accepts the call, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
“Hey, Mouse. You good?”
“If you’re in the bullpen, put me on speaker phone.”
Jay can hear that Mouse is agitated but can’t decide if this is a good or a bad thing. He snaps his fingers to get everyone’s attention and puts his phone down on his desk, pressing the speaker button. “Go on. Everyone’s here.”
“I had a little downtime in the last couple of days. Not much activity around here, lots of planning but nothing to go on. Maybe the hostiles are on vacation. Someone even mentioned something about the religious cycle of the year? Dunno. Crazy, right? Because why bother to follow that if they’re not even following the rules of…”
“Mouse!” Voight interrupts Mouse’s babble with his sharp command. “Get to the point!”
“Yes, sorry. Like I said, I had a little time on my hand, and I was talking to one of the techs here, Chester, a really nice guy,… uhm, sorry… so, uhm I… well… we wrote a program to access the video surveillance in Chicago to look for… uhm… for Bonin.”
There is silence in the bullpen. Not even the sound of a breath.
Voight frowns at the phone, probably at the violation of uncountable laws by even writing that program, but his voice is its usual no-nonsense rough. “Okay. Go on.”
“I kept it running the last few days since the program is operational, and I got a match just now.”
“You found him?”
“I’ll send you the address in a second. I let the program run backwards a few days. Maybe a few more. He’s been going in and out of this address in the last few months. And he’s still there.” Mouse pauses for a second. “He entered the house ten minutes ago. I have kept my eyes on the screen ever since.” They can hear Mouse inhale deeply. “This is it. If you hurry, you might get him today!”
“Send us the address.” Voight turns to his team. “Gear up. We’ll get the bastard!”
Jay picks up his phone, taking it off speaker and pressing it against his ear. “Thanks, Mouse.”
“You good, brother?”
“Not sure. But I will be once we have that monster.” He inhales deeply, trying to find his center. “I’ll let you know.”
“Alright.”
The line disconnects, and Jay pockets his phone and rushes to catch up to his team. Voight holds him back before he can reach the stairs.
“You solid?”
Jay considers the question. He has waited to return to his unit for six months now, has worked hard to achieve his goal. And he has waited for this opportunity to bring Bonin in for even longer. But will he be able to stay on task, to not lose his shit? He will just have to trust in himself and his team.
“I’m good, Sarge.”
Voight nods at him and together they enter the rollup, to meet the others and gear up.
The trucks come to a stop outside the address, all of them rushing out of their vehicles, waiting for Voight to give the orders.
“Alright. Antonio, Burgess, Atwater, to the back. Upton, Ruzek, Halstead, with me.”
Before everyone starts to move, Jay calls out to them. “I can’t come inside with you.”
Everyone turns on him, staring at him, and he knows he needs to explain. “I’m sorry. I don’t trust myself around him. And I don’t want to risk this case by… attacking him. I’ll… just stay here. As backup.” He leans back against Voight’s truck and lowers his assault rifle.
He can see all the emotions running through his team, can read them on all of their faces. Compassion, understanding, heartbreak, but also pride and respect. They nod at him and continue to breach the house.
Jay stays glued to Hank’s truck, his inside clenched into a tight ball. All the way to the address, he was debating what to do, which side of his inner core to follow. Because he knows, if anything goes wrong, if anyone gets hurt on this bust because he wasn’t in there with them, didn’t have their backs, he will never forgive himself. But he also knows, if he would have gone in there with them, had seen the man responsible for his 9 weeks of torture, he really doesn’t know how he would have reacted. And he knows that if his mind had been set to kill that man, no one would have been able to stop him. Most likely he would have hurt one of his friends in the process.
So, he decided to stay out of the house. Out of the bust. To give his team the opportunity to make it a clean arrest. To send this man away for the rest of his life.
Movement on the side of the building draws his attention. One of the windows of the basement is pushed open, and a man wiggles out. He looks Jay’s way, and Jay’s heart drops.
It’s Bonin.
The man recognizes him the same instant Jay does and starts sprinting off in the opposite direction.
Jay doesn’t think. He starts his pursuit, pressing his radio as he starts running. “This is 5021 George, offender outside the target building running north. In pursuit, need backup.”
He follows Bonin through the backyard, over the fence and through more backyards, over lawns and more fences. The young man is thin and agile, dodging through small holes, taking turns wherever he can. Jay stays on his heels, gaining on him. He tries to give updates to the team, to dispatch, to hopefully get backup quickly.
Bonin finally turns into a back alley with no exit. Jay can see him slow down as he reaches the dead end.
“Chicago PD, stay where you are and put your hands in the air. You are under arrest.” Jay has slowed to a walk, his rifle aimed at Bonin’s back. He can see the other man panting hard, raising his arms slowly outwards. “I want to see both hands. Show me your hands.” Jay steps closer one step at a time. “Now turn around. Slowly.”
Bonin slowly turns on his heels, his arms still stretched wide. Jay can see the malicious smile on the man’s face as soon as he’s halfway facing him. Suddenly, there is a sharp yank on his rifle, and Bonin moves into him quicker than Jay has ever seen anyone moving, punching him hard in the stomach twice just below his vest. Jay doubles over, keeping a tight hold on his rifle but Bonin kicks him with his knee on the jaw, sending him reeling backwards.
Jay pulls on his rifle, yanking Bonin with him and retaliates with a kick to the man’s groin. Bonin groans and starts to go to his knees, but recovers quickly. They trade blows, both giving as good as receiving, and Jay doesn’t know how long he can keep doing this. And why his team isn’t here yet.
With a big effort, Jay’s able to duck one of Bonin’s jaw breaking upper cuts, and his fist connects with the man’s temple. Bonin crumbles to the ground, dazed, eyes unfocused. Jay turns the man on his stomach, kneels on his back, pulling his arms behind painfully, and slaps the cuffs on.
“Like I said,” he pants. “You are under arrest.” Jay pulls the man up and sits him down against one of the walls. He can see Bonin smirking at him.
“Detective Halstead. What a pleasure.”
Jay tries to restrain himself, reaching for his radio only to find it in pieces dangling from his shoulder. He just has to hope that dispatch heard him and is sending backup. If not, he’ll have to walk back to the target house with Bonin.
“Never thought to see you back on the force.”
Jay inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the aches and pains from the fight. His whole body reminds him that he might be healed completely but still not back in his top form. With a forced exhale, he opens his eyes and pushes himself off the ground, pulling Bonin with him. “Start walking.”
The man grins back at him, but starts shuffling along. “You were such a mess. I loved watching you suffer. Loved pushing you over the edge.”
Jay slaps him with his hand over the head, his teeth clenched. “What did you say?”
“Oh, you heard me. You were an outlier! An unintentional subject surpassing all expectations.” Bonin still grins at him, his face contorted into a manic grimace as he moves in front of Jay. “I knew you were a cop from the moment you stepped into that VA clinic, knew you were there for me. I never intended for you to be my next subject, though. But you offered yourself up so readily. How could I resist that?”
Jay’s heart drops. He still doesn’t know how he was taken from the VA clinic, has no memory of any of it. He doesn’t even remember Bonin, apart from seeing him once or twice with the janitor. What does he mean he offered himself up? Holding tight to Bonin’s arm to not let him get away, he pushes the man forward.
“I never took anyone while they were still at the clinic. Too risky, you see? But you… you just kept poking around. It was too much of a risk to let you stay there.”
Jay is confused. They had found nothing at the clinic. His team had told him that he didn’t have any clues while he was undercover, never found any leads tying that clinic to the dead veterans they had found. “How… how many did you take?”
“Hmmmm… let me think.” The man smiles diabolically. “Including you? That would be 16.”
Jay stops. “16? Are you serious?” They had only found seven bodies so far. Where were the other eight?
The man turns around to face Jay. “Well, 16 veterans for this research trial. I know it’s a low number and not really conclusive. But it’s my first one on humans, so…”
Jay feels sick to the stomach. Research trial on humans? He pushes the man onwards. "Keep walking."
“Don’t you want to know what kind of study you were part of?” Bonin half turns, half stumbles onward.
Jay just shakes his head. Suddenly, he really doesn’t want to know what kind of sick thing the man had going. He’s just glad they finally caught him. 15 other veterans!
“You see, as a kid I started to study human behavior and how people react in stressful situations. I didn’t have the money to study psychology at university, but I took evening courses. Because I wanted to know why people react so differently to trauma. Nobody could really tell me and I decided to start my own trial.”
Jay closes his eyes for a second, feeling physically nauseated by what he’s hearing. He doesn’t want to hear more. Doesn’t want this psychopath to tell him what he did to all the other men. What lead to them being found dead, thrown away like trash. But he can’t make Bonin stop talking. And the man seems eager to share with him.
“I got the vets, all of them with PTSD from the war. I told them I have pills for them, to make them better. Experimental drugs. And they were all so eager to take them.” He starts laughing hysterically, until Jay hits him over the head a second time. “Well, they were very experimental, those pills. I tried different variations, and some just were a little overkill.” He chuckles at his own joke.
“What did you do with the others? The ones that survived your Russian Roulette of Drugs?”
“The same I did with you. I fabricated a history of delusional behavior and sent them to loony bins all over the country. And I analyzed them all. One by one. None of them made it more than a week. Three took the same exit you did, and the other five are brain washed vegetables, sitting in a psych ward, drooling into their porridge.” He cackles at the picture he’s painting.
Jay feels icy coldness running up his spine. He never anticipated something like that, never thought it would be as big as that. Cold sweat is running down the side of his face, and he blinks it out of his eyes. He pulls Bonin into a deserted back alley, and he knows they are halfway back at the target house. How far did they run? He doesn’t remember it being that far. And where is the backup?
Bonin suddenly comes to a stop, and turns around, facing Jay, scrutinizing him. “You know? I can’t believe how long you made it in that loony bin. They took forever to break you. You’re really screwing up the stats.” He looks Jay up and down. “And I really can’t believe that you are still standing.” He lunges at Jay before he understands what Bonin is talking about. A vicious head butt sends Jay tumbling backwards, and Bonin follows up with a kick to Jay’s side.
Pain explodes all over his body, and Jay stumbles, crashing to the ground. In a last effort, he swipes Bonin’s legs out from under him. As soon as Bonin hits the ground, Jay is over him, pulling him tight into a headlock, starting to cut off his air supply. Bonin kicks with his legs, and a malicious elbow stab backwards in his already hurting left side nearly sends Jay into oblivion. But he holds on tight until the struggle gets weaker and finally subsides.
Panting through the pain, he rolls the unconscious man off of him. There are dark spots dancing at the edge of his vision and he struggles to stay awake. What did Bonin mean that he’s surprised Jay is still standing? Why wouldn’t he be?
He tries to sit up, but the pain in his side sends shockwaves into him, making him roll over on his side and puke his guts out. When the retching stops and he opens his eyes, the pool of vomit in front of him is dark red. Confused, he looks down on his stomach, his hands searching under his vest, his left hand coming back covered in dark red. What…?
His fingers probe along his side, finding two holes in his shirt and warm liquid running down his abdomen. When did that happen? His gaze wanders around, finding his pants soaked in blood, and a blood trail along the street. He must’ve been bleeding for a while.
His vision swims in and out of focus, and he knows he needs help, knows his radio is broken, and tries to think how he can get help. The street is deserted, and he doesn’t have any energy left to call out for help. His right hand gropes around, finding its way into his pants pocket, while the left hand tries to hold pressure on the wounds without much success.
His sticky fingers close around his phone, and he pulls it out, dialing 9-1-1 automatically.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“This is… Detective… Jay… Halstead… badge number…5-1-1-6-3…” His words slur together and he tries to clear his throat. “I need an ambulance… to my position… Offender in… custody… need backup…”
He closes his eyes, breathing through another wave of pain and nausea, unable to answer the questions of the lady on the phone. She finally gives up, but tells him that help is on the way and only a few minutes out.
Jay sighs in relief. He can hold on for a few more minutes, can make sure that Bonin doesn’t get away for a few more minutes. He can’t remember when and where he lost his rifle, doesn’t know why he never pulled his sidearm from its holster, but he pulls it out now. Scooting back a little to lean on the wall of the nearby house, he points the gun at Bonin, who still lies unconscious on his side.
He feels the exhaustion now, the drain of energy that is caused by the continued blood loss leaves him weak. Pressing his hand tighter against his side, he groans at the renewed wave of pain, dizziness and nausea that rolls over him.
But he can hear sirens now, shouts, people running. He raises his head, and though his vision is a little blurry, he can see the flashing lights of an ambo coming closer, and he relaxes a little.
Suddenly, there is a face directly in front of him. Hank.
“He ran. I followed. Caught him.”
“You did good, kid.” Hank’s hand is on his, lowering it to the ground, gently taking the gun away. “Now let the paramedics help you.”
“’kay.” He feels tired, his eyes don’t want to stay open anymore. Now that Hank is here, he is safe. And he knows Voight will take care of Bonin.
Slowly, he lets himself drift away.
He wakes up in an empty hospital room, feeling floaty and a little fuzzy. He can’t remember where he is or how he came to be here.
There are a few possibilities and it scares him that he doesn’t know immediately which one is real. He thinks he is in Chicago, thinks he just caught the man who is responsible for sending him into hell for nine weeks, for sending eight more veterans into hell. But he could also be in New York, after he stabbed himself in his shrink’s office. Or in Kabul, after the Humvee exploded where he and Mouse nearly bled out while all around them lay the body parts of their brothers.
So which reality is he in? Which one is real?
He looks around and finds a phone sitting on the rolling table next to his bed. Picking it up, his fingers dial a number automatically.
The line rings, and he closes his eyes, hoping to get an answer.
“Hello?”
“Doc?” His throat feels dry and scratchy, and he swallows a few times to wet it. “I need your help.”
“Mr. Halstead.” Wellington’s voice is calm and reassuring. “How can I help you?”
“I’m in a hospital, and I think I’m in Chicago, but I’m not sure. I’m a little scared that maybe I’m dissociating again.” He takes a deep breath. “Can you tell me if this is real? Please?“
“Yes, Mr. Halstead, it is real. You are in Chicago, though I don’t know why you are in a hospital.”
“Okay.” Jay hums. “How… how do I know that you’re not part of my delusion, my dissociation?”
Wellington chuckles. “Would you really include me in your delusion?”
“Guess not.” Jay smiles weakly. “Thanks, doc.”
“Anytime. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Jay puts the phone down, closing his eyes and takes a deep breath. Chicago it is. Okay. Good.
“Hey, brother.”
He opens his eyes to see Will standing at his open door, cup of steaming coffee in his hand. A smile spreads over his face. “Hey, Will.”
“You missed one hell of a party.” Will steps closer and slumps down in the chair that sits next to Jay’s bed.
“You celebrated without me? How rude!” Jay smiles at his brother, who looks once again tired and gaunt, the nonchalance just a cover for his worry.
“Not really. No one wanted to celebrate without you. So, we postponed it.”
“Thanks.” Jay nods. “So, what’s the damage?”
“Major blood loss from two stab wounds, one penetrated your stomach, the other grazed your spleen. Both could be repaired, thankfully. It was still a close call. Once again.” He looks intently at his brother. “You really need to stop doing that. You’re scaring the living shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry, Will.” Jay is sincere. He doesn’t want his brother to suffer because of him. “I’ll try.”
“Yeah, right.” Will scoffs. But before he can start complaining, the door opens and his whole unit floods in.
Jay is happy to see them all safe and sound. He didn’t hear anything from them during the bust, and when they didn’t follow him for backup, didn’t immediately find him when he caught Bonin, he was worried something had happened to them.
They all greet him happily, all of them trying to find a place to sit down.
“So, what’s the verdict? How long do you have to stay here?” Ruzek gives Will a shiteating grin.
Will groans. “Don’t start! Now he’ll ask me every five minutes!”
Jay laughs out loud at that, and the team joins him. It’s easy banter until Voight arrives. Jay instantly feels the change of mood.
“What’s up?”
Voight comes closer and carefully sits down on Jay’s bedside. “Bonin is in custody. He confessed to everything. Abducting veterans, hacking into databases to create false files and back them up with reports, tampering with the alerts that should have popped up as soon as we typed your name in any search machine, falsifying death certificates, not only for Mouse but others, too. He even confessed the accidental deaths of the seven veterans we found. He didn’t even show remorse. The place we raided was one giant center of operations. He had live feeds into multiple psych wards all over the country, files on even more veterans than we knew about. He really was a computer whiz, to do all that. And he enjoyed ever little bit of it.” Voight swallows hard. “There was a file on that computer with your name on it. Video material from your stay at Creedmore. And another file called his “Research” where he describes his test subjects in every sickening detail, all their suffering.”
Jay nods. “He told me on the way back to the house. About his “study” he’s conducting. And how I screwed up his statistics.”
“I’m really sorry, Jay.” Voight pats his arm. “And I’m sorry we weren’t there for your backup. The house was shielded off, our radios didn’t work inside, which we only realized when we came back out, and you were gone. Dispatch updated us, but hadn’t heard from you. We came as soon as they told us where you were. Got to you just in time.”
Jay nods. “Didn’t even realize he stabbed me until it was nearly too late. Most important thing is that he’s going away for the rest of his life. And he won’t be able to harm any more vets.”
“Cheers to that.” It’s Ruzek who pulls out two bottles of cheap champagne and starts passing plastic cups around. “As the promised celebration had to be cancelled, I thought we might want to toast anyway.”
They all get a glass and raise it. “To Jay. For catching one serious SOB. And for returning to us. Welcome back!”
A chorus of “hear, hear” echoes through the small room, and Jay can’t help but smile.
It will take him a while to heal again and return to his team.
But right here, he feels at home.
With his family.
In his reality.