The Long Haul

Chapter 1

A/N - There are minor hints at abuse and corporal punishment in a few chapters, but no scenes will be written playing those out in any detail. This story takes place around seasons 3/4.

The sixteen-year-old's brown hair fell onto her face as she was thrusted forward harshly, falling to her knees inside the bedroom. A belt fell on the floor beside her as if it had followed along to taunt the girl like a stain that would never quite wash away. Without another word, the door slammed shut and the rough, deep voice on the other side said threateningly, "Don't you even think about coming out."

Like she had actually planned on doing that. Ha. Alex leaned forward, resting her forehead on top of her fists on the worn carpet, as if she were praying. But that couldn't be further from the truth. God wouldn't save her from this. He hadn't so far, so there was no need to pretend that her circumstances would change. Large tears started to stream down her face as she cried silently, her rough exterior momentarily cracking with no witnesses around to notice.

She'd known it had been stupid to even try, but she'd been on a series of risky decisions lately, so what was one more? But that "one more" had ended up all wrong. She'd been caught and the consequences had been much more severe – and painful – than they'd ever been before.

She opened her palm and gingerly pressed it against her cheek that was still throbbing, thanks to her big mouth. That wasn't anything new—she knew better than to talk back when he was in one of these rages, but she hadn't been able to stop her mouth from running. The man brought out the worst in her.

And it seemed the feeling was mutual.

She laid flat on her stomach now, her head resting on the carpet of the room she'd grown up in. The only home she'd never known. She almost wished the floor would open up right now and swallow her whole. Then this would all be over.

Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain was slowly settling in around her body. It didn't take long for the stinging to turn into a deep throbbing as the tears continued.

Buzzzzzz Buzzzz......

The sudden sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand forced her tears to slow as she reconnected with the reality around her. She was in no mood to talk to anyone right now, but her curiosity forced her to see who it was because hardly anyone ever called these days. Ever so gently, she stood up, pausing for a moment as she stepped over the belt, cringing at the source of her pain.

Finally arriving at the nightstand, she looked down and saw it was her brother. Of course it was. Because that was just what she needed right now. The cop brother to get on her case. He tried to check in with her once every two weeks or so, sometimes bringing a meal over for them, seemingly more out of responsibility than anything else. Although they weren't close by any means, she knew he hated it when she didn't answer, his mind often assuming that she was one of the victims in the long list of crimes he witnessed daily. But right now, she didn't need this.

The phone suddenly stopped ringing to her relief as the call went to voicemail. However, Alex didn't even have a chance to take more than two steps before it vibrated again, a text message appearing.

Bringing dinner over. Be there in 5.

Well shit.

Today, of all the days in the world, was when Jay Halstead decided to be chivalrous and bring over dinner unannounced.

Alex immediately wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. It wouldn't do much at this point, but she had to at least try something and she had five whole minutes to do it. Fanning her face with her hands, she tried to dry her eyes but there was nothing that could take away the bloodshot look of them—that had happened long before the crying.

She quickly searched her room and cursed under her breath. Her make-up bag was in the bathroom. So much for covering up the handprint on the side of her face. If she opened her bedroom door now, her dad would be back for another round and that scared her way more than what her brother was going to say when he saw it.

_______________________________________

Jay gripped a paper carry out bag in one hand and a drink tray in the other as he approached apartment 306. It had been a while since he'd been over here, but his team solved a pretty big case today, and he got to go home at a decent hour, so it seemed like the right thing to do.

He arrived at the door and groaned when he realized his hand had no extra hands, so he rapped on the door with his elbow.

"Come in," came a rough, deep voice from the other side. Jay sighed at his dad's lack of security in locking the door as he shifted the bag to his other side to free up a hand. Finally, he made it inside and closed the door behind him with his foot. He spotted his father sitting in his recliner, nursing a beer as he watched the news. The three empty bottles on the floor beside him didn't go unnoticed.

"Dad, I've told you not to leave the door unlocked," Jay said flatly as he went to put the food down on the nearby kitchen table before returning to lock the front door. "Anybody could just walk in." He'd seen it happen enough times in his day-to-day job that he couldn't help but want his family to be safe by doing simple things.

Pat shrugged, not seeming to care about the repeated advice. "Once they see we got nothing valuable, they'd turn around."

Jay rolled his eyes. His father had never been an easy person to deal with. The old man was stuck in his ways and refused to change, especially after his wife had died four years ago. Jay tried to reason, "Well at least do it to take care of your daughter."

The eldest Halstead chuckled in disbelief as he took another swig of his beer. Jay walked over to his side, arms crossed. So it was going to be one of those evenings. "Maybe they'd just take her with them. Would save me a lot of trouble."

Jay could feel his anger slowly creeping up on him. His dad always had a way of bringing out the worst in everyone he knew with his no-shits-to-give attitude, which had only gotten worse over the years. "You don't mean that," he felt the need to add for the sake of his sister. "And you might want to slow it down there," Jay said with underlying judgment as he glared at the empty bottles. Pat just shrugged indifferently in response. Knowing it was pointless to continue on that topic, Jay looked around. "Where is Alex anyway?" She usually would have come out by now if nothing else than to see what food he brought.

Pat didn't take his eyes off the TV, but the underlying tones of anger were obvious. "In her room. She's not coming out. Leave the brat in there."

It wasn't uncommon for Alex to go at it with their father; hell, it wasn't uncommon for Jay to go at it with him, but something seemed off about tonight, and his father's comment all but confirmed those suspicions. Pat hasn't exactly been the picture perfect father growing up, but their mom, Claire, was sweet enough that she took away all the sour. After her passing four years ago, Jay started to notice that Pat was constantly more irritable and easily angered. And then the drinking settled in after his first year as a widower. When he'd seen his father start to go down the black hole, there had been a time or two when Jay had contemplated having Alex move in with him. He even went as far as telling Will about it once over drinks, but he never took that idea anywhere after that. Who was he to raise a teenager? He'd probably just screw it all up and he was in no position to take care of her.

Jay didn't bother replying to his father and took off down the hallway to her bedroom, but he could hear Pat call after him as if preemptively giving an excuse, "She got what she had coming!"

Those words caused his feet to stop momentarily as a chill crept down his spine.