The innocent detective

4 - Gashes and Bruises

Warnings: Mentions of violence, injuries.

Summary: It's your first week in prison and you already feel on the verge of death.

A/N: Posting this today because I'm too deep in my Jay Halstead feels and writing is my coping mechanism. Please enjoy and lets try not to cry while we grieve.

*****

You knew what to expect going into jail. Not only had you heard stories but you'd been told several times what happened to anyone related to the police once they got in.

It didn't help that you'd been a police officer and then detective for so long that your name had gotten around. Even without hearing your name, the women you passed by easily recognised you, practically smelling the police off you.

So, when you were suddenly ambushed, being beaten by women who you either put away or someone in your unit did, you weren't completely surprised.

You did your best to defend yourself but you were more than outnumbered and it wasn't before long that you were struggling on the floor. You didn't try begging, you didn't scream for help but you did try to fend for yourself.

Eventually, the guards came and pushed everyone off you, helping you up and whispering in your ear that you were being taken to protective custody where life was supposedly going to be better, easier and safer for you.

The first aid you was given was pathetic. Doctor or not, anyone could've done a better job. The open wounds were still oozing with blood, a few gashes still pulsating and you definitely had a concussion but the first aider simply pushed you away, claiming he was done and you could be taken away.

It was the second or third day of being in prison, you lost track because of your poor attempt of keeping a sleeping pattern but you had a visitor. Rudely being woken up, you limped in between the guards as they walked you to the room with phones, chairs and a glass to separate you from the outside world.

Entering the room, you took notice of not only the increased heat but a familiar man sitting by himself. His eyes sweeping across the room, abruptly stopping when they landed on you.

Sitting up in the chair, Jay clenched his jaw and followed your slow movements, waiting for you to get somewhat comfortable in the chair before grabbing the phone and talking into it.

His eyes remained solely on your face, inspecting the bruises and scars that spread to your arms which he could only see because your jumpsuit was short sleeved. By the looks of what he could see, your body must be littered in bruises and cuts.

While Jay was angry, he was also relieved to see you. It had been two days since your sentencing and he'd been restless, having not seen you and not being able to talk to you on said day.

"Hi." You whispered, your voice a little hoarse from not speaking for what felt like ages. Seeing Jay brought you so much joy that your eyes started to water but you blinked it all back, forcing yourself not to break down.

"Hey." Jay reciprocated your smile but his was stiff, almost as though it was forced but he was struggling with all of the sudden emotions he was facing.

"How are you?" You asked, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes. He obviously hadn't been sleeping and the only reason for that could be you.

"I'm managing." Jay very subtly lied. The past two days had been torture. One, you'd been taken away from him. Two, IRT was still doing their due diligence and making sure the rest of intelligence was clean and didn't lift a single finger in the murders you commited.

You smiled, grimacing at the pain when your lip burned because of the cut you had; you forgot that was there.

"And you?" Jay asked, gauging your painful reaction. What he would do just to hold your hand, bring you some comfort in a place that was void of anything remotely nice.

"It sucks." You said truthfully, finding it useless to lie. "I've been jumped, the food sucks and they seem to hate periods."

You tried smiling it off, hating how serious this conversation was when you were given a warning by one of the guards, you had around five minutes left of the visit before you had to go.

"I love you." You whispered into the phone, refusing to break eye contact with your boyfriend. Most police that went to jail usually never made it out alive and if that was true, you never knew when the last time you saw Jay would be.

Today could easily be the last time you saw him and even if you couldn't touch him, you could let him know how much you loved him.

"I love you so much." You bitterly smiled, biting your lip in attempt to keep in all the bubbling tears trying to surface.

Jay took in a deep breath. It dawned on him what you were doing and he hated every single bit of it. For your sake though, he'd do what was best. "I love you too."

"Let everyone know I miss them and that I love them as well." You licked your dry lips, your hand shaking when you saw the guards moving towards you in the corner of your eye.

"I'll see you soon." Jay promised, not tearing his eyes away from you even while you were escorted back into your cold cell.

Jay would see you soon because over his dead body would you not come back home.