Listen to Her || A Chicago P.D. Fanfiction

14

A/N: The song being used in this chapter is 'The Real You' by Three Days Grace. The author does not own the song whatsoever. All credit goes to those who it belongs to. Lyrics will be in bold letters. Any changed words, to better suit this chapter, will be in brackets. Some lyrics may be left out.

She has been blankly staring at her breakfast for 15 minutes. A fork is being held lightly in her right hand, waiting to be used. Surprisingly, steam is still leaving the eggs and toast she made for herself.

"You can do this." She whispers to herself for what seems like the millionth time.

Her hand holds the fork tighter, moving a few centimeters closer to the scrambled eggs on the plate. The fork is only lifted halfway towards her mouth when her hand stops itself from getting any closer. Tears begin rolling down her cheeks as a frown tugs her lips downwards.

"Just keep it together."

The sentence sounds familiar to her ears, as they have heard this before. Her brain reminds her of the meeting she must attend in less than half an hour, and it's enough to push her over the edge. The fork gets placed on the plate just before a choked sob leaves her mouth.

"I can't go back." She tells herself as she cries.

The sounds echo within the empty house, being that Trudy has been gone for work since 7 o'clock.

"I don't want to go back."

Images of not being able- of not wanting, to get out of bed flash through her mind.

"Come on, sunshine." Pretty Boy gently whispered.

All she did was roll over in bed so she could face her back towards him.

"I know this isn't you." He softly spoke.

When he earned no response, he stood up from having been kneeling by her beside. He had been kneeling there for over half an hour.

I will never give up on you,
I see the real you,
Even if you don't, I do, I do

"I'm gonna make you something to eat. I'll come right back."

She heard him leave, and once her bedroom door clicked shut, tears began to hit the pillow beneath her head. She couldn't stomach looking at him after she tried taking her own life. How could she let him see herself so unwilling to live?

Tears keep rolling down her cheeks as she pushes away the plate.

"I can't." The words are followed by a small sob.

Everything is catching up to her; the feeling of guilt, the anxiety about what will be discussed during the meeting with the Notification Officer, what she'll have to do to prepare for the funerals of her closest friends, how to keep this all away from work. It all becomes too much for her brain, and the easiest way for her body to get rid of the anxiety is to cry sobs of desolation. Shaking hands run over her tired face before they hold her head as she leans her elbows on the table.

...

"Thank you, sir."

The man doesn't say anything as she gets out of the car. As soon as she's on the sidewalk, the man is driving off, leaving her standing in front of the station. A quiet exhale leaves through her nose as she collects her thoughts.

"Good morning."

Antonio's voice has her turning around to face him as he walks in her direction.

"Good morning." She greets in return, giving him a slight wave.

He can tell that her mind seems to be elsewhere when he's standing in front of her. She looks a bit lost, but he isn't going to say that directly to her face.