Tolerance Book I (Chicago PD/Med FF) by Frances51163

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four: The Act of Talking

The drive to Jays' apartment was made in silence with Adam checking in the rearview mirror every now and then to make sure the Counsellor was still following.  He wasn't sure whether he should be worried or happy that his friend had agreed to talk to the Counseller.  This was definitively a rare occurrence.  Jay did not willingly divulge personal information and even on general matters he wasn't a very vocal person.  He decided he better try to gauge what was going on before they reached the apartment.

"So ....," Adam began as he slowed to stop at an intersection on red, "you want to tell me why you agreed to talk to Sam?"
"Sam? You on first name terms already?" Jay tried a jibe as he glanced out the passenger window.
"We talked in the break room.  He seems okay, for a Counsellor that is.  So how come you agreed?" Adam wasn't about to be deterred.
"Sarge asked me to."
"And you agreed just like that?"
"I agreed I would try talking to him," the injured man clarified as he placed a protective hand over his broken wrist and fingers.
"Ah ... so you're just going to talk to him to keep Sarge happy but you're not going to really talk is that it?"
"He still following?"
"Yeah," Adam shook his head as he moved off on green, "maybe he could help you Jay. What's the worst that could happen if you really open up to this guy?  Sarge promised you he isn't going to be reporting back to him."
"I don't understand why everyone wants me to talk," Jay sighed heavily, "I can deal with things myself."
"Man you can handle a lot.  I don't know anyone else who could go through all the crap you have and still be standing but you never answered my question."
"Question?"
"What are you afraid of if you have an honest conversation with the guy?"
"Please Adam can you just go along with me?"
"Okay Jay.  I'm on your side whatever you decide to do," it was Adams' turn to sigh as he parallel parked outside the apartment building.

Ten minutes later Jay stood at the window of his apartment opposite the seated Counseller.  Upon arrival Adam had decided he was going to cook and said he'd close the door on the pretense that no one could be offended by his culinary endeavours, ensuring the two men had privacy.  Sending a wink of encouragement to his friend he had disappeared out of view and the sounds of pots and pans rattling were soon heard.  Jay didn't even want to think of the mess his friend would make.

"You know if you don't want to talk you don't have to," Sam finally broke the silence, seeing the tension in the young mans' frame, "I'm not here to coerce you into anything."
"Why are you doing this?"
"To be honest I figure I owe you far more than I can ever repay.  You saved my life.  If I can help in any way I want to."
"You don't owe me anything."
"We'll have to agree to differ," Sam shrugged, "in case you're wondering your Sergeant hasn't told me much."
"When did you meet him?"
"Last night in Mollys."
"What did he tell you?" Jay turned back to face the Counsellor.
"Just that you had been in witness protection as a result of a severe beating, which could have killed you, and that your life is still in danger which, to quote him, is 'why you look like hell'."
"That all?"
"Yes," Sam nodded, "but something tells me there's a hell of a lot more involved."
"Hah," Jay scoffed lightly, "you should be a Detective."
"No thanks.  I had enough danger in Afghanistan.  What injuries do you have?"
"Nothing I can't handle," Jay brushed off the question.
"Well your hand must be killing you if it feels like it looks," Sam grimaced as he eyed the splinted limb with the black and blue swollen fingers.
"You like what you do?" the young Detective asked changing the topic as he walked over to an armchair before easing himself down into it carefully.
"Yeah.  Like all jobs there are good things and bad but in general I like helping people. How about you?  You always want to be a Police Officer?"
"Never really had any idea what I wanted to be growing up but once I got back I knew it was the only option."
"Why?"
"I wanted to make a difference."
"What about the danger?  Doesn't it bother you?"
"Don't think about it.  If something happens it happens.  No point in worrying over what might be down the line."
"That how you dealt with being in the military?"
"Guess so."
"You want to tell me what happened earlier? Before I arrived?"
"I just ....," Jay hesitated unsure how much to divulge, "I just got lost in my memories. That's all."
"You very nearly went into shock.  The memories must have been ..... bad."
"I was just caught off guard."
"Well it's a good thing it happened in the precinct.  No one got hurt."
"I wouldn't hurt anyone."
"Not intentionally but what if something like that happens when you're out in the field?"
"It won't."
"You just told me there's no point in worrying about the future but I'm sure you take your friends' safety seriously."
"Course I do."
"So maybe talking about some of your memories will help and in the future if you do get blindsided you won't have such a serious reaction.   Sometimes dealing with memories that are traumatic head on is the only way to diminish their intensity.   Sooner or later memories we push down will come back up of their own volition.   So tell me what happened."
"I ...... recognised a name on a list.  I was thinking of the guy ... a bully I had an ..... argument with back when I was in school."
"What was the argument about?" Sam asked quietly, glad the Detective was actually sharing some information.
"He was picking on some younger kids."
"And you stopped him which he took offence to?" Sam guessed when no other explanation was forthcoming.
"You could say that," Jay rubbed his temple as he asked his own question, "what do you do when things come back out of the blue?"
"Sometimes I take off just to find some quiet.  I like going to the countryside.  The peace I find in nature gives me a chance to replenish my strength I guess.  It reminds me of the beauty in this world.  Sometimes it's easy to forget with all the bad things going on. Usually I come back feeling better and then I talk to a couple of good friends who understand what I went through in Afghanistan.  I know what went on over there will never leave me and I've come to terms with that."
"So there's no magic trick to stop memories coming back suddenly?"
"If there is I'd like to know it," Sam confessed candidly before probing, "did you always stick up for other kids in school?"
"Sometimes," Jay stood up carefully deciding he had done enough talking even if he did feel at ease with the Counsellor, especially in view of the fact that he also found peace in nature, "reckon I'd better check what damage is being done to my kitchen."
"Why? Don't you trust Adam?" Sam chided as he stood also, not surprised the injured man had cut their conversation short but glad he had started talking, albeit briefly, as he had never expected the task he set himself to be easy and he could be patient.
"With my life yes. With my kitchen no!"

tbc