CHAPTER 7

5 DAYS LATER

Since he can't be alone, I'm still at Jay's. As much as I know it bugs the shit out of him, he's injured and Simmons is still out there. For whatever reason, I've been the only one he's allowed to 'guard' him and only Will is allowed to actually 'visit' him. In other words, he'll only talk to Will. I just hang out in the living room. Even Al or Erin weren't really welcomed. That first day, after the "passing out, puking, shower drama," Jay eventually came out to get more coffee and didn't so much as acknowledge Al's presence. He stayed in his room until Al left.

We had all texted about it and it was decided that I would stay. We knew he was okay with Will, so he had emotional and medical support on that front. Erin even nixed the idea of her going over when it was suggested. They all knew he was afraid of what he would see in their faces, how we would react to him. No one wanted to cause him more anxiety.

It was yesterday that Will came over and told Jay the rape kit came back negative. The visit seemed to play out like Will's other visits with Jay - Will having a one-sided conversation with him, followed by some yelling from Jay, followed by Jay sobbing until he passed out from exhaustion. A while later, Will would come out, grab us each a beer, turn on a game, ignore it and silently cry, while I pretend I don't see his tears and he pretends he doesn't see mine.

I've been back in asshole mode for the last couple of days - I'm glad Jay doesn't come out of his room. Can you believe that?! I'm a fucking mess and when Will comes over, it's triggers the sadness part of my emotional rollercoaster. I've taken to hanging in the hallway outside Jay's apartment until Will brings me my beer. I know it's safe to go back in then. 'Safe.' See, fucking asshole mode. Jesus Christ.

I'm hanging in the hall waiting for and dreading my beer's arrival, when Voight walks up and actually sits against the wall across from me.

"Will's here? How you holding up Adam?"

I nod to the first question, a sigh is my answer to the second.

"We found him. We got Simmons. Al and I took him to the Silos…"

With that statement, the relief I briefly felt turns in to a tidal wave of anxiety.

"Easy Adam, easy. He's in the cage. No matter what I want, Jay wouldn't want that. We just wanted to scare him a bit. Simmons is probably the first person I didn't scare the shit out of by taking them to the Silos."

That elicits a pained smile from me. "Your losing your touch…"

"Hmph…We haven't officially booked him yet…haven't talked to him. We're letting him stew."

With that he gets up. "I'll let you tell Jay."

"Right. Thanks Boss."

"Hey Jay…" I lean into the bedroom. Jay's laying on his bed, Will sitting next to him. Jay's arm is over his eyes. By the way his body is shaking, I can tell he's crying. Fuck.

Will turns around, glares at me, pissed at my intrusion.

"Hey Jay, they got him. They caught Simmons."

Jay doesn't move for a sec then using the heels of his hands, wipes away any evidence of tears.

Jay looks directly at me, voice thick with emotion. "Where is he?"

"The cage."

"Voight talk to him yet?"

"No. They're letting him stew."

A number of emotions cross Jay's bruised face until he finally puts his arm back over his eyes.

Will gets up and gives Jay's shoulder a squeeze, then follows me to the living room.

Will sits at the island, this time I grab us our beers. We drink in a comfortable silence. It's over…Jay's voice from the bedroom interrupts my thoughts…

"Adam…"

I lean in the bedroom door just as Jay is painfully struggling to pull on a henley. I wince as I take in the bruises and taser burns on his chest and stomach. A brutal reminder of how stupid my last thought was…for Jay, this far from over.

"Ya Jay?"

"Let's go."

Dammit Jay. "Ah, go where?"

He gives me the eyebrow raise, which isn't quite as effective given the stitches right above it.

"Jay…"

"Don't Adam. Just don't." The glare he gives me gets me moving.

Jay stops in front of Will and gives him a hard look, daring him to say anything.

"Fuck, Jay. Fine." He puts his hands up in surrender, looks at me instead of Jay, "Call me if you need anything. I'll be at work" I exchange one more worried/exasperated look with Will and head out the door after Jay.

As soon as we get in the car, Jay slumps against the door, head resting on the cool glass. He's out in seconds, his defiance having spent all of his energy.

INTELLIGENCE INTERROGATION ROOM

I'm watching Jay's reflection in the glass as he watches Voight and Al interview Simmons through the one way mirror. Jay stands statue still. The stoic mask he usually has no problem dawning is absent and a multitude of emotions flit unchecked across his face. Shame and fear are the two that linger the longest and this makes my heart clench.

I want to make everything better for my friend. I want us to all go back to where we were before this whole shit show. I want Jay to ride my ass when I'm stupid, smirk at my bad jokes or my sometimes blatant and idiotic naivety. I want to hear sarcasm fire from his mouth even if it's at my expense. My inner asshole-ness rears its ugly head - I want old Jay. Not this quiet one. Not this one who flinches. Not this one who won't look anyone in the eye. I look at real Jay, huh, real Jay…I look at real Jay not his reflection and feel like I am mourning the loss of a friend. I blink away tears and feel that clench in my heart again that I have become so familiar with. I wonder if it can kill you when, for lack of a better word, 'angst' squeezes your heart like that?

I turn back to the glass and look through Jay's reflection at Simmons. My stomach tightens, when Simmons gets smug and says it doesn't matter that they caught him.

"We got what he wanted. Jay will never know if it happened or not regardless of what a rape kit says," He looks at the glass knowing Jay is watching, "because it FEELS like it happened, doesn't it Jay?"

Simmons ignores Voight and keeps his eyes on the glass, "Jay will always wonder."

Voight puts an end to that bullshit and gets in Simmons' face, "That's where you're wrong, asshole. Flen video taped the whole thing - continuous. No breaks. We know exactly what happened. Jay knows exactly what happened."

Simmons sits for a second in disbelief, the smug look slowly slipping from his face, his mind spinning, internally cursing Flen because he knows it's true. That's exactly the stupid ass shit Flen would do. In the blink of an eye that disbelief turns into rage.

Simmons rages and pulls at the handcuff attaching him to the table. Cursing them, cursing Flen, cursing Jay. Voight smirks, then stoically turns to the glass, knowing Jay is behind it. Al smiles from his corner.

Jay watches the guy rage for a moment and then slowly limps his way back to the bullpen. I follow him a moment later. The rest of the team all notice Jay come back into the room but continue their work, with the exception of Erin. Her eyes linger a little longer. Although he's not cleared to be on desk duty yet, not until he is cleared physically and mentally, Jay sits at his desk staring at his stapler as he bites his bottom lip.

JAY

Jay feels like he's trapped in a rat's nest of emotions as Simmons words circle again and again in his mind;

'it feels like it happened, doesn't it Jay?'

'what the rape kit says doesn't matter,'

'Jay will always wonder'

Around and around and around they spin until he feels like he is on the verge of a panic attack. He makes a quick exit, limping to the restroom just as Voight and Al come back into the room. Al sits down at his desk. With a slight nod of the head and raise of an eyebrow, Voight follows Jay.

When he gets to the restroom, Voight finds Jay throwing up in the sink, not able to make it to the toilet. He stands against the opposite wall giving Jay his space. His mind goes back to the brief conversation he had with a freaked out Will.

"Voight, Jay's on his way. Adam told him you caught the guy."

"Okay, thanks for letting me know. We'll take care of him Will."

"No, Voight…uh, yesterday when I told Jay about the rape kit coming back negative… Ah, shit…based on his reaction yesterday and the conversation we had awhile ago, I don't think he believes me. I don't know what to do. I'm going to call Dr. Charles and see what he says. Just wanted to let you know…I'm not sure…"

"You're not sure how he'll react."

"Exactly, so maybe you could…"

"Will, he's on his way, we'll take care of him, you have my word on that. Let me call Dr. Charles and see what he has to say."

"Ya, good idea…thanks Voight."

His conversation with Dr. Charles comes to the forefront while he keeps an eye on Jay.

"That's a good question Voight and so, here's what I think; No, Jay doesn't quite believe the results of the rape kit, even though you have a video to back it up. The feelings and the bits of memories he does have contradict it. I have seen this before and it is quite normal. He wants to believe. He is more that likely desperate to believe but Jay is re-experiencing the memories and the feelings he had while Flen held him and he is terrified." He continued, "Jay doesn't remember all of what happened to him. And he might never remember. What he does have, are feelings based on the snippets of what he does remember. His subconscious is filling in the blanks and assigning experiences of what those feelings might possibly represent to him. What we do know, is that he went through something traumatic. So we trust the feelings. That is where the healing will start. When he is ready, we can use the video to get him to the point of belief, while continuing to work through his feelings."

After rinsing and spitting a couple of times, Jay keeps his head down, rinsing the sink until it's probably cleaner than when his stomach tried to belly flop into it. Not able to avoid Voight any longer, he puts his head up. With a firm grip on the sink, Jay's eyes flit to his own battered reflection in the mirror but don't have the courage to stay. He looks at Voight's reflection instead, able to look Voight in the eye but is unwilling to speak.

"What'd ya need kid?"

Not knowing what to say because he hasn't a clue what he needs, he blows out a breath and looks down again.

Occasionally Voight is patient, right now is one of those times. He'll wait. Still unable to look at himself in the mirror, Jay turns and faces Voight.

He shrugs and shakes his head, "Haven't a clue."

"Okay. When you know, talk to me…anything you need, got it?"

"Got it. Thanks Voight."

Feeling like the walls are closing in on him, unable to stay a moment longer, Jay leaves the bathroom…leaves the building…and limps to anywhere other than where he is. Unfortunately, wherever you go there you are. He's not sure where he's going but he's stuck with who he is right now and not sure he can handle it.

Voight blows out a breath and watches Jay limp away in obvious pain, physical and emotional warring for dominance.

Simmons won't talk. That's unacceptable. He heads down to the rollup and pulls out a burner phone. Time to get some answers from Simmons. Time to give Eddie a call at Statesville.

MED ER Room 1

Will has drawn the short straw and is with Jonathan Grant, Med's infamous hypochondriac, on his weekly visit. Dr. Halstead patiently listens to the symptoms of the chosen disease, taken word for word from WebMD, when Jay limps into the ER. What the hell?

Even though he just saw him a couple of hours ago, Jay's physical appearance can still startle him. Jay looks like shit, bruises, cuts, stitches…he moves slow…still holds his arm protectively across his ribs.

Will is distracted with Jay's arrival and excuses himself from Mr. Grant. He wants to ask Jay how things went at the precinct but figures Jay will tell him in his own time. So he goes with a benign question instead.

"Jay, what's up? You okay?"

"Uh, ya, ya, I'm good."

"Where's Adam? Wait, did you walk here?"

"Kind of…"

"Jesus Christ, Jay. You're in no condition to be walking this far. Shit, you shouldn't have even left the apartment. Couch, bathroom, bed and that's it."

Jay tunes Will out and watches Mr. Grant in room 1. On any other day, Jay would have given Will a hard time about his "regular" patient. Will has yet to figure out that he always draws the short straw because Maggie's rigged the system.

Jay's focus comes back to Will but he doesn't say anything.

"Jay?"

"They caught the guy, the other guy. He basically confessed…"

Will already knew this, was there when Jay found out, but decides lets it slide.

"I'm just going to hang out until you're done."

This has happened a few times in the last 5 days. "Sure okay. I'll find you then. If you want you can lay down in 6. If we need it, we'll move ya. Or in the Dr.'s lounge."

As Jay shuffles off, his limp more pronounced, Will goes back to Mr. Grant, deciding to let the lonely man be a brief distraction from his never ending thoughts on Jay.

Jay 's aimless, limpy wandering has brought him to Dr. Charles' office. Maybe not as aimless as he thought. Somewhat stunned this is where he ended up, he bites the bullet and raps on the open door. He leans against the frame, going for relaxed but failing miserably. His countenance screaming both physical and emotional pain.

Dr. Charles looks up from the stack of papers he's working on and a smile lights up his face when he sees his visitor is Jay. He removes his glasses and quickly tones down the smile with an open, more "professional" look, not wanting to scare him away with his hope that Jay's sought him out for help.

"Jay, good to see you up and about. What can I do for you?"

He waits patiently for Jay to answer. He has all the time in the world for this young man.

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure. Go ahead and close the door." He gestures to the chair piled with books, "We can just put those on the floor."

"No need. Mr. Grant is in the ER. Will's probably going to be calling you in a few minutes."

He nods, "Okay then. What can I do for you?"

Jay clears his throat. "They got the other guy…this morning. Mouse did his Mouse thing…" he shrugs. "Voight and Al just finished the interrogation, guy basically confessed. Uh…" He sighs and takes a deep breath, wincing in pain as his injured ribs protest. He's silent for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside but mostly stalling, realizing this is harder than he thought it would be.

"I'm on med leave for 3 weeks and then probably light duty for another week or so…I was wondering if you had any time…"

"How does tomorrow, 10 o'clock sound."

There's a beat as Jay struggles with his desire to say no. He's not ready for this.

"Sounds good…" he lingers for a second until Dr. Charles' phone rings. He gives the doctor an amused 'hmph' and raises an eyebrow at the phone, "Will."

"See ya tomorrow." Jay states with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and a voice lacking any emotion.

"See ya tomorrow, Jay."

Jay nods then moves away from the door. He hesitates and turns back to the doctor. Dr. Charles sees this, lifts the receiver on the ringing phone and sets it back down to stop the ringing.

"Jay…"

"I don't know why."

Dr. Charles takes this in, he knows this, knows from Voight that they don't know why and that Jay doesn't know who Flen and Simmons are or where he might have crossed paths with them.

"I know Jay. I know. We'll all figure this out together. We will."

Jay breathes out.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jay."

Jay takes as deep as a breath as his ribs will allow and slowly releases it.

"Tomorrow.

END

A/N

Even though Jay wasn't raped, he was sexually assaulted. The unwanted, non consensual touching in a sexual way is sexual assault. Not any less traumatic, although at times there is relief that there was no rape. For every person the trauma will vary. There are really good articles on the internet defining sexual assault/sexual abuse/rape/sexual harassment. Being a sexual abuse/rape survivor myself, I am writing from some experience but my experience and feelings are my own, although others may share them. For me, time heals all wounds but that doesn't mean there isn't scar tissue and sometimes scar tissue hurts like a bitch but the pain passes. I love who I am today and all of the experiences in my life, good and bad, have brought me to this point. You're not alone.