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thebookreader12345 · 3 years ago

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Memory Lane

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x reader

Summary: Y/N gets severely injured on the job, and throughout her time in and out of consciousness, she recalls the memories that she's shared with Adam throughout the years

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of getting shot

Word Count: 1,718 Words

One minute, I was fine. The next, I was on the ground, clutching at my shirt which was stained dark red with blood. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was a simple exchange, money for drugs, but everything went sideways when a patrol car intercepted the meeting. That was especially bad news for Adam and I seeing as neither of us had on bullet proof vests.

"Y/N!" Adam shouted and hooked his arms under my armpits before dragging me behind our car. Gunfire echoed around us, but the only thing I was trying to focus on was Adam. "5021 Ida. I need an ambo to the south block of Union. We're in the abandoned lot near the factories. My partner's been shot."

"Copy that 5021 Ida. An ambulance is 3 minutes out," the dispatcher replied.

"Adam," I murmur.

"No, Y/N, don't talk," Adam ordered and pressed his hands onto my wound, which caused me to wince. "Save your strength. Everything's gonna be okay."

"I've been shot in the stomach and I'm lying in a pool of blood," I whisper and clutch Adam's arm. "It's not cool to lie to me when I'm dying."

"Hey, you are not going to die on me. Not here, not now, now ever," Adam said. I nodded as my vision started to blur slightly, and I began to lose my strength. My grip on Adam's forearm loosened and my hand fell slack to the side, hitting the rocky gravel pavement. I could feel my conscious fading away, and it took everything in my power to keep my eyes the slightest bit open. Adam noticed my sudden silence, and when he realized that my eyes were staring to close, his face was flooded with worry. "Keep your eyes open, darling. The ambulance is almost here. You can do it."

I wanted to be strong for Adam, but it was getting hard to stay awake. My brain was begging me to close my eyes and get some rest, and I fought the urge to lose consciousness for as long as I could, but that didn't last forever. I felt my eyes flutter shut, the last thing I saw being Adam's distressed face. It was weird though, being unconscious. Everything was black, and there was no light in sight. That's when the black disappeared though, and suddenly, I was reliving the time Adam and I first met.

Flashback

"Here are the papers you requested Trudy. All 26 of them," I declare and place the stack of papers on the front desk.

"I'm impressed," Trudy confessed. "I didn't think you'd get it done in time."

"Hey, we may be short in the bullpen, but that doesn't mean I can't get my own work done quickly," I say.

"Speaking of being short on people, Al's brining in the new recruit now," Trudy spoke and nodded behind me. I turned around just as Al bounded up the front steps with our new rookie trailing a few steps behind him.

"Hey, Al," I greet my co-worker. "Who's this?"

"Y/N, this is Adam Ruzek. He's going to be our newest team member. And Adam, this is Y/N L/N," Al introduced. "She's one of the members of Intelligence."

"It's nice to meet you," Adam admitted.

"Yeah. You too," I reply.

"So, are you gonna be my partner?" Adam questioned.

I laughed softly. "Sorry, but I'm partnered up with Antonio. You're stuck with Al."

"Oh. Al was telling me about you on the ride over so I just figured..." Adam trailed off, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

"He's cute. I like him," I tell Al.

Al chuckled. "I figured you would."

"Well, Adam, it was nice meeting you, but I've gotta get back upstairs and finish some more paperwork. Al, would you mind buzzing me up? My print hasn't been working lately," I explain.

"Sure. Ruzek, I need you to stay here and fill out some paperwork with Sergeant Platt. She can let you up when you're done," Al said.

"Got it. Again, it was nice meeting you, Y/N," Adam voiced.

Flashback Ends

When I slightly regained consciousness, my eyes cracked open the tiniest bit, just enough for me to know that I was in an ambulance. I could hear the sirens echoing on the street outside and feel the bounce of the wheels as they drove on the concrete road. I could also feel Adam squeezing my hand as a paramedic tended to my wound. But all of that disappeared in a matter of seconds as I slipped away for the second time that afternoon. This time, I was brought back to our first kiss.

Flashback

"No way! That never happened," I object and laugh.

"Yes it did. I swear. My dad walked in on me and my girlfriend at the time making out," Adam claimed.

"That must've been so embarrassing. I would've hid from my parents for a month if that happened to me," I say.

"Yeah, well, I was a teenager, and they provided me food and shelter, so I couldn't exactly avoid them," Adam joked.

"Well, this is me," I murmur and gesture to the apartment building a few yards up. Adam nodded and pulled to the curb, parking his car to let me out. Just before I could exit the car, Adam stopped me.

"Let me walk you up," Adam spoke and climbed out of the car. I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips, and exited the car. I slung my purse over my shoulder and joined Adam on the sidewalk, and together, the two of us walked up the stairs of my apartment complex and stopped at the front door.

"I had fun tonight," I confess and turn to face Adam. "We should do this again sometime."

Adam nodded. "Definitely. But uh, before I go, there's one more thing I have to do." And with that, Adam leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled against his lips and moved my hands up to cup his cheeks, which caused him to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me closer. I could taste the faintest bit of beer on his lips, and it went surprisingly well with the wine flavor that was still occupying my tongue. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, and I was a bit upset when we pulled away from each other. "I couldn't leave without giving you a goodnight kiss," Adam admitted. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Adam," I reply.

Flashback Ends

This time, when I came to, I was being wheeled into the ER at Chicago Med. I had an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth to help me breathe, but that didn't help much with my labored breathing. Through my squinted eyes, I could make out a few people hovering above me, but I couldn't seem to hear what they were saying. Along with Adam and the paramedics, I saw Dr. Rhodes, who was wheeling my stretcher in the direction of the elevators. I didn't stay conscious for long, and when I drifted off, I was seeing another memory.

Flashback

"Y/N, can we just talk? Please," Adam pleaded. I ignored his pleas from where I was seated on the floor against the bathroom door, and leaned my head back against the wood. Tears fell from my eyes and slid down my cheeks, but I didn't even bother wiping them away. "Y/N? Come on. Let me in."

"I don't want to talk to you right now," I murmur.

"Y/N I..." Adam trailed off for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, okay? I know that it was reckless of me to jump in front of that bullet but-"

"You could've been killed, Adam," I interject.

"But I wasn't," Adam countered. "And I'm not even hurt. The vest stopped the bullet. I'm okay."

"I get that, but what if you weren't?" I propose. "What if the vest didn't protect you? What if you had been seriously hurt? I can't live without you, Adam."

Adam sighed from where he was standing on the other side of the door. "You will never have to live without me. I'm never gonna leave you, Y/N. I love you so much."

My breath got caught in my throat at Adam's words. We had never said 'I love you' to each other before. I sniffled and stood up, using the back of my hand to wipe away the tears that had remained on my cheeks, and then I opened the door. Adam was standing a few feet away from the door, and he looked up when I exited the bathroom. I took a few steps forward and hugged him tightly, burying my face into his shoulder.

"I love you too," I breathe out.

Flashback End

My eyes opened slowly, and I cringed at the brightness of the room, closing my eyes again. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again, blinking a few times to get used to the light. A small groan slipped past my lips as I tried to move to a more comfortable position, and that alerted Adam, who was sleeping in a chair next to my bed, that I was awake. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, his hand automatically gravitating to mine.

"Hey," Adam muttered, his voice laced with sleepiness. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I hurt everywhere," I reply. "But I think I'll be okay."

"You uh, you had me worried for a bit," Adam confessed and squeezed my hand softly.

"Don't worry. I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon," I admit. "But I do plan on taking every measure to make sure I don't get shot ever again. It hurts like hell."

Adam chuckled. "I will do everything in my power to keep you out of harm's way."

"You know what else you can do? Get me a cup of Jell-O from the cafeteria," I tell him.

"Deal," Adam said and stood up. "But I'm also gonna grab Dr. Rhodes on my way back so that he can check up on you."

"You're the best boyfriend ever," I exclaim. "I love you."

"I love you too," Adam responded and leaned down to peck my lips.

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#one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines #adam ruzek #adam ruzek x reader #adam ruzek imagine #adam ruzek imagines #x reader #imagine #imagines

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nellygwyn · 3 years ago

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Because many of the relevant building accounts have been lost, it is difficult to say much more about the impact Anne had on the development of Whitehall [Palace]. Not so at Hampton Court, where much of the documentation survives. Thus we know from a bill for broken windows that she had her own lodging there by June 1529, if not earlier. While Katherine was still nominally queen, Henry built there only for himself, pointedly leaving his first wife in the rooms Wolsey had provided for her in 1526. However, once living with Anne, he put a new queen's suite in hand immediately; indeed, since the foundations were being measured out in January 1533, planning must have begun very soon after the couple returned from Calais. Henry and Anne kept a constant eye on progress, and in November bricklayers were on overtime to finish the walls before the next royal visit. And the king kept on designing. When the couple were staying there the following July, the payhouse provided papers for 'sundry platts drawn at the king's commandment'.

Anne's new suite broke completely with the recent past. At Richmond, rebuilt after a 1497 fire, Henry's parents had rooms one above another. At Eltham, modernized between 1519 and 1522, Katherine and Henry had lodgings on opposite sides of the courtyard, though the king seems to have had a bedroom reserved in her suite; at Hampton Court the consort's rooms were on the floor above the king, and at Bridewell on the floor below and across the inner courtyard. In sharp contrast, Anne's new apartments at Hampton Court were constructed on the same floor as the king's (the first) and with direct private access to his suite. Although swept away in 1689 by Christopher Wren, it is known that they were erected on the east face of the palace, looking out on the park and backing on an internal gallery. The main entry was at the northern end of the gallery and led to the watching chamber, the presence chamber and the privy or withdrawing chamber and then to the more private rooms, ending with the queen's bedchamber and her jewel chamber. The connection with Henry's existing suite was achieved by extending his privy gallery to link with the southern end of Anne's corridor and to open into a magnificent bedroom for Henry, close to Anne's. At the same time a new privy stair was installed near the junction of the two corridors to give the couple access to the privy garden on the south. The ground floor below Anne's personal suite was a service area including her wardrobe, kitchen, larder and a nursery, all set behind an arcade fronting the park.

The decision to build Anne's rooms over an arcade raises the interesting possibility of French influence. An obvious inspiration could have been 'the façade of the loggias' at Blois which was constructed during Anne's residence there with Queen Claude. On the other hand, considerable caution needs to be exercised when claiming 'artistic influence', and the arcade may simply have echoed existing structures elsewhere in the palace. Where we can rule out Anne's experience at the French court is in the decision to place the suites for king and queen contiguously on the same floor. The rooms Queen Claude occupied at Blois were above those of King Francis, who had access by a private circular stair. As a source for the innovation at Hampton Court, an immediate possibility is the juxtaposed accommodation which Anne and Henry probably occupied during their 1532 visit to Calais. This could well have taught them the advantages of greater intimacy. Alternatively, the Hampton Court plan could simply reflect that rarity in royal marriages: a love match.

~ on Henry VIII's and Anne Boleyn's rooms at Hampton Court Palace

The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn // Eric Ives

#obsessed with the layout of rooms in palaces #and how this can tell us how people felt about each other #anne boleyn #henry viii

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fighterkimburgess · 3 years ago

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San Diego Song Chapter 1 - Kim

Summary: Kim is faced with a choice, and decides getting away from Chicago and staying with Sean is a better decision than staying in Chicago alone. Series masterlist here

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Emotional abuse, mental abuse, financial abuse, mild physical abuse, gaslighting, abusive!sean roman, victim!Kim Burgess. Please, please heed the warnings folks.

Wanna join my taglist?

“I love you, probably. And I think Chicago isn’t the place for either of us, and we should get out of here. Go to San Diego, live near the beach. Live our lives and be happy. I’m getting a lump sum payout, we can get a place. Live on our pensions, get a job if we want. Let’s do it.” Kim stared at her boyfriend in shock. Chicago was home, it was where she had found herself.

But it was where she’d ended an engagement. Where her reputation was in shreds thanks to the trial. She was a badge bunny. San Diego could be a fresh start, somewhere new to be.

“I’ve six weeks of furlough. I’ll take that, we’ll decide if it works. Once the six weeks are up I can come back to give my papers and work my notice, pack up my apartment, or we can decide it’s not working and we should end things. How does that sound?” His eyes lit up, kissing Kim deeply and fisting her hair in his hand.

“Perfect.”

Telling Platt she was taking all of her furlough was difficult, but her Sergeant didn’t ask many questions.

“Taking time away?” She asked as Kim sat behind the precinct desk for another day of filing and doing research for whoever needed it.

“Yeah, I am. I need to remember who I am, why I do this. It’s been a hard year.”

“It has. I’ll submit that today, you’ll have it in two weeks time, is that ok?”

“Sure, fine.”

The two weeks until her last day before furlough were both incredibly long and achingly short. She kept getting given different partners, and she’d smile and nod, doing her job perfectly but all Kim was doing was going through the motions. Every time she saw Adam walk through the lobby of the precinct it was like a knife through her heart, another realisation that maybe Chicago really wasn’t the place she thought it was for her. That she was wrong, and it was ok that she was wrong.

When she handed Platt over the keys to the patrol car on her final day before furlough she nodded, not wanting to say much. Not wanting to admit what she was thinking, the plan that was forming. If she said it out loud then it’d sound like Adam was pushing her out of Chicago, and that wasn’t it. It was she wanted to get away for herself. Let her and Sean have a chance together. He loved her, they needed their time together.

“Any plans for your time off, Burgess?” Trudy asked as Kim went to leave, her locker cleared out and in her gym bag. If she’d cried finding a love note Adam had slipped into the locker before they’d split up, that was between Kim and the empty room.

“Yeah. Sean and I are going to San Diego. He needs to leave Chicago after everything, we’re going to see if it’s the right place for us. It gives us a chance to be us and find ourselves after everything that’s happened.”

She watched her sergeant’s face tighten for a split second before relaxing and nodding. “Whatever’s right for the two of you. But you’ve got a lot of people here who care about you in Chicago, don’t forget that,”

“I know. Thanks, Sarge.”

Kim walked out the door of the precinct, down the steps and into the parking lot, the weight of her gym bag bumping against her thigh where her duty weapon usually would. The weight was comforting, even if it was too heavy and too soft instead of the hard metal and worn Kevlar that usually were on her hip. But once she got back to her apartment she felt a little bit more at peace.

She’d mostly packed her two suitcases that she was taking with her for the six weeks, but she stared at the list of things she’d written to pack. Shirts, bras, underwear, jeans, shorts, shoes, socks, her toiletries, towels, bedclothes, her favourite things. The things she couldn’t live without. It was surprisingly easy to get everything down to the minimums, and so much of it was more that she didn’t want reminders of the last two years. She didn’t want a reminder of her and Adam, so shirts that reminded her of their relationship were left behind. The underwear she’d worn the night he’d proposed. The Bears shirt she had kept when she’d given him his stuff back, that she’d slept in until she and Sean had started. If holding it gave her a memory, she left it behind.

O’Hare airport at seven am was her idea of hell. But she and Sean checked in and went through TSA, holding hands and looking for all the world as a couple in love. And they were. He was good to her and he cared for her and he loved her. And she loved him. They sat at the airport Starbucks and he bought a vanilla latte and porridge for her, her normal breakfast as they sat and ate, waiting for their flight. But before long they were boarding, Sean in the aisle seat thanks to his shoulder and Kim in the middle, fingers intertwined as they took off and headed west. They were about an hour into the flight when he handed her an earbud, Kim taking it and pushing it in.

“My sister made a playlist for moving, here.” He hit play, the guitar and drums filling her ears.

We moved in with the girls and left it all behind. So what’s wrong with this life, you say it’s not enough? What does it feel like? You think you’re better than us.

“I like it. Did she just pick every song she could find with San Diego in it?” Kim asked, watching how his eyes crinkled.

“I have no idea. Feels kinda apt though, we’re about to start a new adventure together. It feels right.”

“It is right. You and me against the world.”

Once they landed and got their bags, Sean had organised an airbnb for them for the first week, so they could try find somewhere to live. His payoff from CPD had come in, and because he had to retire due to disability he had his full pension, so they didn’t need to worry too much about money yet. If they didn’t find somewhere decent soon enough they would, but for now they were fine.

That first week was spent being tourists in their new city, people watching and getting used to the differences. Kim had always thought that it’d be humid living by the coast, but instead the sea breeze kept her sane. She watched as Sean started growing out a beard, nuzzling into the crease where her neck and shoulder joined, making her squeal from the stubble burn. They went for dinner, Sean in the one suit he’d brought with him, Kim in the yellow dress she’d worn on their first date. He’d put his suit jacket around her shoulders when she got cold as they walked back to their airbnb, his arm around her waist. As they arrived back to the house they sat on the porch swing, curled up and entirely in each other’s bubble. When she kissed him she felt like home, that sensation she’d had before that it was wrong, that she was in the wrong man’s arms, completely gone. When they separated Sean put a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand cupping her cheek as he stared into her eyes, his blue ones intense and stormy.

“I love you. And I need you to know that, I love you and there’s nobody I’d rather ever do this with.” His words weren’t hurried, they weren’t rushed, and Kim could feel the intensity flowing through his body.

“I love you too, Sean Roman.”

They’d found an apartment, moving in after Sean paid the security deposit and first and last month. It was the two of them on a futon, reminding Kim of her first apartment when she’d moved out, but they did a trip to IKEA to buy the furniture they most desperately needed. That evening, after she’d built up a sweat putting it together while Sean read the instructions because of his still injured shoulder, they sat at the new table, eating really good Mexican food and reading over a bank account application form.

“I figure if we’re paying rent together we should get everything through the one account, right?” Sean asked as he fed her a piece of his fish taco, kissing away the sauce that spilled out of her mouth.

“Makes sense. I can put the money for rent and bills in from my account?”

“Just put your salary in. Life will be easier. We only get one debit card for the first while until we’re California residents, but that’ll be fine. Not like we’ll need the two, one of us can just use cash until that happens.”

“Perfect.” Kim signed her name, reading through the form quickly, smiling at their new address on it. It was fast and it should have scared her but it felt right. Commitment. Love. The two of them as a team. There was nothing else they needed, apart from Kim to find a job.

The apartment was a few blocks away from a SDPD station, and on week three she decided to stroll down while Sean was at PT. It wasn’t Chicago, but being a cop was her dream, so she figured going in and finding out how to apply was the easiest thing for her to do.

The officers were friendly, the desk Sergeant aware of Intelligence’s reputation back in Chicago. “You’re a member of that unit and you’re moving away? What happened?” He fixed her with a look that reminded her of Platt, but with more warmth in his eyes.

“Nah, I turned them down when it was offered after I was shot in the line. I wanted to earn it my way, so I stayed on patrol but worked closely with them. My boyfriend was injured on the job, he had to be pensioned out because of it. We decided San Diego was a change of pace, somewhere new to be. I figured I can apply here and at least stay a cop while he’s recovering and deciding what he wants to do.” She gave her steadiest stare, the one that had been honed from refusing to let Hank Voight intimidate her, and she saw the respect in the Sergeant’s eyes rise.

“There’s a lot who’d take the job because it was offered. Here’s an application form. If you’re transferring in from a different city you’ll be able to skip most of the Academy. Plus with your experience? They’ll probably put you to a unit rather than just out on patrol nearly immediately. Fill it in, mail it to the address on the back. You should hear back in a few weeks. I’m Sergeant Simon, let me know when you hear. I’ll want to keep an eye on you, Burgess.”

“Thanks, Sergeant. I appreciate it.”

Kim pushed the application form into her bag, heading down to the bank with the completed form for their new account. Sean had already been in with his ID and information, so it was simple for Kim to be added to the account. It didn’t take long, the teller helpful and giving Kim confirmation that she’d been added.

Once that was done she made it to the nearby farmer’s market, enjoying the sun and picking up groceries for the week. It was a slower pace of life, the smaller city and safer streets feeling better already. She developed a routine, and the last thing she wanted to do was to go back to Chicago. She was happy. They’d spend their days relaxing, hanging out in bed or on the couch. He’d pull her close as she got off, hands around her wrist almost too tight to keep her there as they held to each other. He kissed her wrist when she squealed, apologising for the accidental tiny bruises that appeared, still unsure of the strength in his injured arm.

It was week five of the six weeks, and when she got out of bed her almost completed SDPD application was missing from the kitchen counter where she thought she’d left it. Once she was dressed and had her breakfast she went searching, Sean arriving in as she was going through the mail that had arrived in case it got mixed up with that.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his arm finally free of his sling as he wrapped it around her, pulling Kim into him.

“My application’s gone missing. I thought I’d nearly finished it and left it on the counter. But it’s gone.” She kept searching through them, Sean pulling her closer and kissing her jaw.

“You hadn’t even started it. You told me to get rid of it, remember?” He murmured, kissing up her jaw but Kim stiffened, turning around.

“No? We talked about it, I was going to sign up here so I could be a cop again. You said you’d support me.”

“Yeah, and then we talked again last week, remember? You decided against it because of how dangerous it is. You said you couldn’t trust another partner. Kevin left, and then I got shot twice, and you’ve been shot. You were gonna look into working somewhere else, somewhere safer. Remember?”

She wracked her brains, the vague memory of the conversation somewhere. But she thought she’d filled it out. She thought she’d said she wasn’t going to let what happened in Chicago scare her away from her dream.

Sean wouldn’t lie to her. And they had been talking about it, he was worried about her going onto the streets again. And seeing him nearly die…he was right. She’d been a cop for long enough, she could find something else to do. Maybe apply to work in the San Diego version of DCFS, helping kids. Doing something to keep them on the straight and narrow, the parts she’d loved of being a cop. But it would be safer. And her safety was important.

Once she’d fully made the decision to stay in San Diego she pulled out her phone, opening her texts with Kevin. That was what stung the most, they’d been partners for years and it felt like he’d just left her behind. He hadn’t responded to a single text after she’d told him she’d landed in San Diego.

Made it! It’s beautiful, we’re gonna see the ocean today. Want photos?

Always. Don’t forget about us mere mortals back home though.

We found an apartment, I think it’s lovely here. I’m trying to decide if we’re gonna stay.

How’s work going? Any news?

I miss you. What’s up?

Kevin? Is everything ok? I’ve checked the news and no cops have been injured, what’s going on?

I’ve decided I’m staying here full time, gonna fly home to work out my time and then come here again. Chicago doesn’t feel like the place for me anymore.

He hadn’t replied to any of them. He hadn’t even read the most recent few, the iMessage delivered word like a shot through her. He was her best friend, she called him her brother. His siblings called her their sister. She’d even done a parent teacher conference for Vinessa when Kev had been forced into work one night. But just like that he was gone.

When she told Sean he hugged her, comforting her as she cried for the loss of her longest ever friendship. Once she was mostly back together he spoke, his voice low as his thumb rubbed the back of his hand.

“You know what his unit’s like, it’s a clique and it’s almost a cult of personality around Voight. If he had to choose between your friendship and his job he’d choose the unit and Ruzek. I don’t know why, but he did.”

Of course he had. Adam had asked him to be his best man for the wedding that never happened. Of course Kevin was choosing Adam and his unit over her. Kim was one person, they were the rest of his life.

The night before she flew back to Chicago they clung to each other, mapping out the timeline. Sean’s apartment was already handed back to his landlord, all Kim needed to do was sell what she wasn’t bringing with her and pack the rest. She could get a U-Haul and drive the 29 hours in two or three days instead of flying. There seemed something romantic about driving away from Chicago, heading West and not looking back. It wasn’t like she’d bring much, her first plan when she got to Chicago was to put everything she could up on Craigslist to sell.

“I’m back on shift on Tuesday, I’ll put my papers in then. I have to work four weeks. So once that’s done I’ll get the U-Haul and drive down? It’ll probably be three days to get back.” Her head was on Sean’s chest, her fingers running over the bullet wounds he’d endured. The voice in her head so grateful that he was alive. He was alive and he was there, and they were together. Out of all the trauma and the time in their car something good had come from it, and they were together. He loved her, and she loved him. They were committed and strong and there was nothing else she could have wanted.

“You could do it in two. It’s what? 29 hours? Leave at six in the morning, you can do fifteen hours or so, sleep overnight at a rest stop, then do the other fourteen.”

“I won’t trust myself to drive that long. I want to get back quickly, but I want to get back safely. The worst part would be if I ended up in a wreck somewhere in Nebraska and you couldn’t get to me.” She reached up to kiss him, Sean’s hand reaching for her hair again, pulling it just slightly the painful side of comfortable to manoeuvre her over him.

“I’ll just miss you. The sooner you’re back the better.”

“I know, but we can FaceTime. You put the debit card in my purse, right? You can go to the branch to get out cash while I’m gone, but I can’t.”

“You’re all set.” He silenced her worries with a kiss, rolling them over in the bed.

The next morning they got up too early, Kim’s almost empty cases in the bed of the truck he’d bought. Getting out at the set down area at San Diego airport made her nearly want to cry, not wanting to leave Sean behind. But eventually they had to separate, Kim promising to text him when she boarded and landed in Chicago.

She got her bags checked, smiling at the United staff before going through TSA. Once she was through she pulled her purse out to get a coffee, realising the debit card wasn’t there. Instead there was five hundred dollars, and she pulled out her phone to text Sean.

I thought I was getting the debit card? What happened?

I figured you’d be fine with that much cash, it’s not like you’ll be spending loads, I’ll need it for setting up some of the bills.

Can you Western Union me money if I need it? I don’t want to be stuck.

You won’t be, it’s enough for the month.

Her temper flared, but Sean was right. He’d need it for setting up their life, and it wasn’t his fault that they could only have one card at the minute. And she was going to be selling stuff, it would be fine. She’d just be sensible with her cash, and she still had money on her Ventura card to make it home from O’Hare. She’d look like a tourist, but it’d be fine.

The flight took of and landed safely, and she texted once she was back in Chicago. But instead of the feeling she’d always had before when she landed, of being home and happy and wanting her own place, she felt empty. It wasn’t home anymore. Home was near the beach and a blue eyed blond haired man who loved her as much as she loved him.

The El trip home took longer than she wanted, but she let herself feel the rhythm of the city. She would miss the bustle. San Diego was lovely, but it was half the size of Chicago, with a similar size footprint and just not as built up. She’d miss her apartment, but being near the ocean felt good.

It surprised her that the forms to resign from CPD were available online, but she printed them out at Staples and brought them home, slowly filling them all out. Officer Kim Burgess, five years service. Badge number 56686. Patrol, 21st Precinct Prairie Division. She filled out the boxes neatly, her hand sure. This was the right move. She needed to do this, for her and for Sean. She could do more than just be Adam Ruzek’s ex fiancée, the woman who’d turned down Intelligence and who’d slept with someone to get her name known. She could be more, be herself. She could have a life with Sean, have kids with him one day. Maybe eventually matching rings. No worries about if one of them would be shot during the day, no fear about each other. It felt more right than anything she’d felt in such a long time. The last time she felt this way was handing the ring back to Adam, so she knew it was the right move.

Putting on her uniform felt like an old friend, the non breathable polyester against her skin. Kim made her coffee, drinking it quickly before going down to her car and driving in, the papers in a plastic folder ready to give to Platt. That was the hardest part of all this, feeling like she’d let Trudy Platt down. But it was the right thing.

Walking in she could feel that current of electricity run through her, wondering what was she doing giving this up. But the reminder of Sean in ICU, nearly dead, of his loss of control of his arm made her realise it was right. There was nothing else she needed to do. She had nothing left to prove in Chicago anymore. She’d been shot for the city, what else could they want?

Arriving back into the lobby she stood at the desk, waiting for Platt to emerge.

“We’ve got a new partner for you coming from tomorrow, so you’ll be here with me today. Any questions, Burgess?” She asked, Kim nodding.

“Can we talk in private for a minute, Sarge?” It was through to the familiar back office, and Kim held out the resignation papers once the door was closed. “I’m putting in my papers. Sean and I are moving to San Diego full time, I’m putting in my four weeks.” Kim was proud of how steady her voice remained.

“You sure, Burgess? You’ve been with him for a few months. You’re a cop, a damn good one. Why are you giving this up?” Kim shook her head, wanting to blurt it all out. But of course Trudy would know the gossip about her.

“Because he’s been shot on two different occasions and nearly died. I’ve been shot and had to deal with two surgeries. I’m known as a badge bunny and my reputation’s in shreds. He needs me, Sarge. And I need him. I can’t leave him right now. Chicago isn’t the right place for me anymore.” Kim looked down, unable to keep eye contact.

“If you’re sure, I’ll put it through. You have until the last five business days to withdraw them if you want. But Burgess…it’s not my place to say it, but when has that stopped me. I think you’re making a big mistake. You don’t seem like you. Are you sure this is what you want?” Kim looked up, hating the pity in Platt’s eyes. Poor Burgess, unable to keep a man. Unable to keep herself happy. Unable to be happy and healthy and keep her job. The pity was the worst.

“I’m positive, Sarge. This is what I want. I’ve booked a U-Haul to bring me back to San Diego when I’m done. Chicago isn’t home anymore.”

“We’ll get it done. I need to go upstairs to the Chief to get these filed, will you man the desk and hand out cars? You’ll be on your own for the next four weeks, no point in getting you a partner when you won’t be around for long enough to mesh with them.”

Kim nodded, waiting a few seconds before leaving, her Sergeant already gone upstairs. It was the first day towards the rest of her life, and she couldn’t wait.

Next chapter >>

Taglist: @aruzlover @amandarrollins @morganupstead @adamruz @fullwattpadmusictree @redpoodlern @everythingaddictxx @write4life13 @lizlouisebrown @jeanjacketjesus @tuxieboy101-blog @thelittlepterophyllum @planecrazylex @sophiatellerrhodes @eternal-olicity @ossypooh @dissociation-writes @kimburgess-ruzek @thestarrynightslover @reidskitty13 @etamne @torreshalstead @itsnotpersonalbut @leymr @kellykidd @dedlund82 @pinkwhitebrown @mmacke3613 @sylvieshay @upsteadlovingheart @multicouple-lover @burzekschicago @keenmarvellover @ittybitty-tittycommittee

#kim burgess fic #kim burgess #chicago pd fic #cpd fic #cíara writes #burzek fic #Sean roman x kim burgess #kim burgess x Sean roman #kim burgess x adam ruzek #adam ruzek x kim burgess

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imjustwritingg · 4 years ago

Text

you can hear it in the silence

This takes place after Jay gets shot and the hospital scene in season 7, loosely based on the song “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift. I’ve had this stored away half-finished for quite a while and put a crazy spin on it after seeing a prompt on Twitter. It also seems pretty fitting that I finished this specific one on the same day that JLS’s interview came out where he politely disregarded Linstead and said Upstead rights. Enjoy and let me know what you think. 💜

Also here: AO3 & FanFic.Net

cause you can hear in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love, true love

you're in love

XXX

“I can’t figure him out. He’s the first one through the door, a war vet, and he’d rather take a bullet than get the flu shot.”

“It’s hard because you love him.”

“When you were in surgery, no one knew what was going to happen and it made me realize I wanted to tell you something.”

“What were you gonna say?”

Hailey has replayed those moments from the hospital every day in her head since they first happened. Vanessa had straight up called the blonde out on her feelings, that it wasn’t just about her partner, Jay Halstead, but everything else he had become over the last few years of he and Hailey working together. A trusted confidant. Her best friend. Someone she could depend on endlessly. The man she had fallen for without even realizing she was falling in the first place.

When Jay had been given the all-clear to go home Hailey had somehow found the courage to finally tell him about her feelings for him. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something else were to happen and she never got the chance to tell him the truth about how she really felt towards him. Her heart always seemed to ache in that way where she could barely breathe around him and she wanted nothing more than to admit her feelings and hope for the best.

The words had been there right on the tip of her tongue, but with one ring of his undercover phone she was pulled back to reality. The walls shot up around her heart again, made her second guess everything up to that point, and she retreated back into herself as if it were some twisted sign from the universe screaming at her, “no, don’t do it!”

Could she really tell him the truth? And should she? Or would it ruin their friendship and the partnership they’d nearly perfected over the time spent working together? She just wasn’t sure. All of these questions plagued her mind since that day, but she knew she couldn’t voice them out loud. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

XXX

Jay had returned to work a week after his release from the hospital, but he remained on strict desk duty. He was itching to get back out into the field, but Voight had made it clear that, that wasn’t happening until the sling was off his shoulder and he got explicit written permission from his doctor. So, he stayed in the bullpen, pushing paperwork and helping to find leads for his team however he could.

When he saw his partner and Burgess at Platt’s desk that night after his first shift back, he couldn’t help the pride he felt inside of him knowing what Hailey had done to capture the perp.

“I heard you made a nice disarm,” he says while looking at Hailey.

Her face immediately breaks out into a shy smile. “Oh man. You want details?”

“Yeah, I’m losing my mind,” he tells her.

“After six days?” Kim teases.

“After six minutes,” Jay emphasizes with a slight shake of his head.

Before the three of them can make a quick escape from the district, Platt calls out to Kim making her hang back. She says a quick goodbye to the duo, leaving Hailey and Jay to themselves. Hailey looks at her partner and nods to the door, and the pair make their way down the stairs towards the exit.

The bitter winds of Chicago’s winter season meet them eagerly as the pair exit the district. Hailey isn’t sure how it happens, but they end up nearly shoulder to shoulder as they walk down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Each time they almost brush against one another she feels a rush of heat move through her body from the proximity alone. Trying to ignore her feelings was proving to be more and more difficult with each moment that passed between her and the man at her side.

“Beer and story-time at my place?” Jay suggests as they near the lot.

“Give me about an hour?” Hailey counters. She just needs a little bit of time to herself to try and clear her head.

“Sure. I’ll order food from that Greek place you like,” Jay says.

She smiles at him. “Sounds good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Jay gives her one of his grins, one that Hailey has come to realize is only ever used with her and one that should be considered illegal, and then the two go their separate ways.

XXX

Hailey’s nothing if not punctual. If she says an hour, she means an hour. So when there’s a light knock on Jay’s door thirty minutes after leaving his partner at the district, he’s a bit perplexed. He’s got a pep in his step though as he walks to the door, a grin plastered on his face, and ready to spend his night with Hailey.

“You said an hour. Food’s not here ye-,” his teasing tone fades out as he pulls open the door and he stands silent as he looks at the woman in front of him who most definitely is not his current partner.

“Hi Jay.”

“Erin.”

Every emotion a person could ever possibly feel is felt by Jay within seconds of each other as he stands in front of Erin Lindsay for the first time in almost four years. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders in waves and she’s not dressed in some fancy pantsuit, but there’s still something about the way she stands with her hands clasped together in front of her that seems like she’s got things all figured out now.

All he can do is stare at the woman in front of him, as if he’s just seen a ghost. And maybe he has, as memories of their days spent together, both professionally and privately, overload his brain. It causes him to grip the door handle so tight his knuckles turn white.

“What are you doing here?” He finally gets out.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m here for work. Heard you went and got yourself shot again.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Hank tell ya that?”

Erin raises her eyebrows at him then and finds herself smirking at him. “First name basis with him now, eh?”

“You’re a little late. It’s been a few weeks since the shooting,” he says, ignoring her comment. His voice is strong and curt, the complete opposite of what it’d been mere moments before when he thought it was Hailey at his door.

“I was deep in a case. I didn’t know until about an hour ago when I talked to Hank on the phone,” she explains.

He just shakes his head at her. “Doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here, Erin?”

“He told me how bad it was. I was in town and I wanted to know that you were okay. Can I come in? Please?”

Jay stares at her for a moment, wanting to say no, but something inside of him doesn’t let him get the word out despite the whisper of a voice in the back of his head telling him it was a mistake. He lets out a long sigh and steps aside instead, opens the door fully, and allows her to enter. He closes the door behind her after she steps inside and the two of them stand across from each other in his living room. Jay leans back onto the top of his couch, his arm still in the sling and his other hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans while Erin stands off to the side with her hands in her jacket now.

“What could you possibly have to say to me after all this time that a phone call couldn’t do?”

“I know how I left things Jay. I know I hurt you and I know I’m probably an idiot for showing up like this after everything we’ve been through. I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.”

Jay scoffs at her, shaking his head. “After everything that happened? You mean when you left without saying a word to me or to anyone besides Hank? Or do you mean when I texted and called and left a dozen messages, and you didn’t have the decency to respond to a single one to let me know you were at least okay?”

The combination of the last few years of keeping it all locked up inside of him, then unloading it during therapy, and now seeing her in front of him like nothing ever happened pushes him over the edge. She really showed up, expecting years of anger and hurt and pain to be swept under the rug as if her leaving hadn’t destroyed him for a period of time.

Erin just stares back at him and doesn’t speak. Hearing the anger in his voice and seeing the pain of what she’d left behind in his eyes wasn’t something she had prepared herself for on her way over to his apartment. She takes in the lingering stain of almost healed bruises on his skin, the sling in which his arm rests. She’s beginning to think this was nothing, but a mistake. That the look in his eyes now is going to be another memory that haunts her.

Erin pulls her hands out of her pockets and takes a step forward. She doesn’t touch him, she won’t, but she needs to be closer to him, needs him to hear her words and look him directly in the eyes when she says them.

“I’m sorry, Jay.”

His eyes immediately close as he hears the words come out of her mouth. He hadn’t realized all this time that he was waiting for something from her. An explanation. An apology. Some sort of something that would make him feel some sort of relief or closure. Anything.

He opens his eyes a moment later when there’s another knock at his door and he thanks the heavens or the universe or whatever it is for the interruption.

He lets out a deep sigh as he walks to the door and when he pulls it open, he feels both relieved and panicked when he sees Hailey standing in front of him. It takes all of two seconds for her eyes to meet his and for a grin to appear on her face when she sees him. And then another two seconds later, her eyes find Erin standing behind him and her smile is gone. She glances between them, noticing the obvious tension that hangs in the air around them all now.

“Erin,” Hailey breathes out.

Erin offers a smile and a small wave. “Hey Hailey. Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it‘s been a minute. How ya been?” Hailey asks. It’s a poor attempt to be polite and make small talk, but she’s not dumb. She knows what she’s just walked in on and all she wants to do now is to turn around and leave and return home.

Erin shrugs. “Busy. Work has been crazy.”

Hailey nods then, not saying anything else and not wanting to continue the conversation. She knows exactly who Erin had been to Jay at one point, and seeing the woman who caused him so much pain and heartache causes Hailey to immediately be defensive and cautious.

“So um, rain check then? We’ll catch up another time,” Hailey says a second later, looking at Jay.

That was the last thing Jay wanted, but he nods anyway. He can tell she’s uncomfortable and he can’t exactly blame her. He’s not so comfortable himself.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her.

Erin watches the two, a small knowing smile appearing on her face. She watches Jay as he watches Hailey, his eyes following the blonde as she walks away from him and down the hallway. The look on his face tells Erin everything she needs to know.

Jay only closes his apartment door when he hears the elevator doors chime open and sees Hailey step inside the elevator car. He turns back to Erin, running his free hand over the back of his head, while she leans against the back of his couch now with her arms crossed in front of her.

“How long has that been going on?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “How long has what been going on?"

Erin nods to the door, a smirk on her face now. “You and Hailey.”

“There’s nothing going on there. We’re just partners,” Jay tells her.

Erin nods, but the smirk doesn’t leave her face and despite everything, Jay still knows her well enough to know she isn’t gonna let it go. “You and I were just partners at one point too, ya know? We may not be in each other’s lives anymore, but I can still tell when you’re lying.”

“How long you in town for?” He asks her, ignoring her words.

She’s still smirking, but lets him deflect. “I head back to New York tomorrow afternoon.”

“You should go and see Voight before you leave. I’m sure he’d like to see you,” he tells her.

Erin nods, but doesn’t move. “You’re good, right? You’re okay?”

He knows she’s not only asking about the shooting, but everything else. His PTSD, his past, his life.

“I’m good Erin. I’m really good,” he assures her with a smile.

Erin nods again, looking down at the floor. When she raises her eyes back to his again he sees the tears and a look of realization in them.

“We won’t ever be friends again, will we?” Erin asks even though she already knows the answer.

“I don’t think we were ever really friends, Erin. Not really. You never let me in. I mean, really let me in. And I know I didn’t do the same with you either. Especially near the end. We both said and did things back then. We just didn’t work,” he says.

There is a sense of relief that overwhelms his senses as he says the words out loud, like he’s been needing to say them to her. And they sting like a slap to the face, but Erin gets it. She can’t hold any of it against him because he’s right. Things had been messy between them, to put it lightly. They both had their issues, together and apart, and they’d never quite learned how to deal with things. She knows he isn’t being vicious. He’s just being honest. He’s just being Jay.

“I wish things had been different for us. If I could go back and do it again, I would do it right,” Erin tells him, her voice sincere as she stands up straight and takes a step toward him.

“Can I at least hug you goodbye? We didn’t get that the last time I left,” she says quietly.

Jay nods and reaches for her with his good arm, wrapping it around her shoulders while Erin’s snake around his waist, careful of his sling. He gives her a squeeze and she does the same before the two separate, and Erin makes her way to the door. She pulls it open, but then turns around to face him one last time.

“If she doesn’t already know, you should tell Hailey how you feel,” Erin tells him.

He doesn’t try to play it off this time. He knows he’s been found out and he doesn’t have the energy to try and lie about it anymore, so he just shrugs.

“Not sure getting involved with another partner is the smartest idea. Didn’t work out so well last time,” Jay says. He makes a bad joke, a jab at them, and it’s a lame attempt to downplay his feelings and the conversation at hand, and Erin just rolls her eyes at him.

“Look, you can lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself. You should tell her Jay. I can see she feels the same.”

She gives him one last smile and then she’s gone. And he’s left with the closure he never got from her before, but also with more questions than ever plaguing his mind now.

Jay makes his way to his sofa, plops down, and leans his head back against the cushions. There’s another knock on his door and he curses as he stands. It’s the delivery guy with the food he had ordered earlier. He pays the delivery guy and closes his door, looking down at the bag in his hand for barely a moment before a smile appears on his face. He’s exhausted and his shoulder is throbbing in discomfort, but he realizes right then there’s only one place else he’d rather be.

XXX

Hailey’s head is reeling by the time she gets back to her place. She kicks her shoes off as soon as she walks through her front door and then goes straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She’s still in disbelief and shock that Erin had shown up out of the blue. A part of her feeling angry, annoyed, but mostly she’s just confused and curious.

Why had she come back? And why now, years later? Did she want Jay back? Did he want her back? Too many questions were clouding her head and she needed them to disappear immediately.

She pours herself a glass of whiskey and knocks it back quickly, enjoying the momentary burn as it slips down her throat.

She’s not sure how much time passes between knocking back her first drink and now sipping on her third, when a loud knock sounds at her door. She groans out, slightly annoyed, thinking it must be Vanessa. Her roommate was quick as a whip and damn good police, but the younger officer had a bad habit of forgetting her keys.

Hailey makes her way to the door, shuffling her socked feet against the hardwood floors and pulls the door open hastily. She doesn’t expect to see her partner standing on the other side and takes a small step back in surprise.

“Hi,” Jay says to her with a shy smile on his face.

“Hi,” Hailey breathes out.

Jay doesn’t miss the way her voice seems to crack with just one word. Her eyes are glassy, but he can’t tell if she’s been crying or drinking, or both. He nods down to the bag of take out and beer in his good hand.

“Too soon for that rain check?” He asks her with a smirk now.

Hailey offers him a small smile and pulls the door open further, taking another step back so Jay can step inside. She closes the door behind him and leads him through the kitchen. He clocks the bottle of amber liquid on the counter as he follows Hailey to the living room, and then the two sit down on the couch.

“Whiskey huh?” He asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen with a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was thirsty,” Hailey claps back with a smirk of her own.

Jay shakes his head at her before reaching for the bag of food. He pulls out several containers, handing Hailey’s food over to her, and the two dig in.

They eat in silence, stealing glances from the other every so often. Jay can tell something is off with his partner and he’s certain it has to do with the fact that she’d seen Erin in his apartment not even an hour ago. He can also tell she’s keeping her distance from him. Had it been any other time they’d be sat together knee to knee, eating their food, knocking back beers, and griping over some sporting event playing on television. Instead, Hailey sits with her legs crossed like a pretzel, keeping space between them, as she stays as close to the end of her couch as she can.

What he can’t gather is why she’s so distant with him. And then he remembers Erin’s words from earlier.

“I can see she feels the same...”

Did Hailey feel something for him? Something more than normal partners should feel for one another? She couldn’t think anything happened with Erin, did she? Not after all this time. Not after everything the two of them had been through together.

Jay knew this was new territory for them. They’d never crossed this line before. The line of professionalism and friendship. But looking at her now, Jay was sure there was never a time before tonight that he’d felt so awkward around Hailey. That he couldn’t get a solid read on her and it was killing him.

“You okay?” He finally asks after they finish eating. He turns his head to look at her and leans against her couch with his arms spread out over the back.

“I’m fine. Guess I just didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” Hailey tells him as she takes a pull from her beer.

“How come?” Jay presses.

Hailey raises an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he was serious, and he just shrugs making her laugh. The sound alone makes him smile. Despite whatever was or wasn’t happening between them, he could at least still make her laugh.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I thought it was you knocking on my door,” Jay says, reaching for his own beer.

“What did she want?” Hailey asks, unable to help herself.

“See how I was doing. Apologize. She’s here for work and Voight mentioned the shooting. I don’t know. Guilty conscience, I guess.”

“And how do you feel about that? Her being back, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.

“She’s not back. She’s leaving tomorrow.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Hailey pushes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jay counters.

Hailey shrugs. “Lot of history there.”

“I feel like there’s too much history, but there’s also nothing left between me and Erin. There are no feelings there whatsoever. I’ve moved on,” Jay tells her.

Hailey nods slowly, taking another sip of her beer and taking in his words as she looks down into her lap. She starts fiddling with the label on her beer bottle, needing to busy herself with anything other than looking in his eyes. A part of her is nervous at what she might find in those green eyes she had come to enjoy looking into so much. Maybe lies, or worse, truth.

“Hailey.”

How was it possible to both love and hate the way his voice sounded saying her name?

She takes a quick breath and looks up, meeting his eyes. Green. Smiling. Honest.

“Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” she says as she runs her free hand through her hair.

Jay shakes his head at her. “Tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.”

He needs her to tell him. He’s practically begging her with his eyes, but Hailey just shakes her own head at him then and stands from the couch.

“I really am tired. Maybe we should call it a night. It’s been a long day for both of us. Thanks for stopping by and for dinner, but I just wanna go to bed.”

He realizes she isn’t exactly asking for him to leave, but rather telling him as she carries her beer and grabs their empty food containers, and then makes her way to the kitchen. He lets out a deep sigh before he gets up from the couch and follows her. Her back is facing him as she puts her glass from earlier in the sink and stores the whiskey away in a cabinet.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Jay walks up behind her and reaches a hand towards her. He feels her body go rigid the second his hand lands on her waist, and then he hears the deep breath she takes.

It’s the first time they’ve touched one another in such an intimate way that wasn’t case related or him comforting her or shielding them from flying bullets in a surveillance van. It was just them.

He pulls at her side, forcing her to turn around and his heart aches at the sight of her blue eyes. Erin was right. Hailey does feel something for him. It’s splayed out all over her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Do you really want me to leave?” He asks. His voice is so quiet he’s not sure she even hears him.

He watches as she sucks in another breath and then shakes her head slowly, almost hesitantly. He feels his fingers twitch at her waist and he takes another small step closer towards her so they’re nearly chest to chest. His arm is around her now, his hand on her lower back.

“Can I stay?”

All she can do is nod her head. And then she reaches around her back for his hand and leads him up the stairs to her bedroom. They don’t say another word to each other. When they reach her room, Hailey releases his hand and grabs a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt from her dresser, then disappears into the bathroom. Jay slips the sling from his shoulder to remove his sweatshirt before carefully sliding the contraption back on over his t-shirt. He kicks off his jeans then as Hailey enters the bedroom again.

Her eyes linger on him for a moment as he stands in the middle of her bedroom in just a t-shirt and boxers. She gives him a shy smile and then nods to the bed. She takes the left side; he takes the right. And it feels so natural, like it’s not at all the first time they’re about to share a bed together.

They lay next to one another, ample space between them under the covers because he is still a gentleman and doesn’t want to overstep with her. He hears her blow out a deep breath next to him, and he turns his head slightly to look at her. There’s just enough light steaming in through her bedroom windows from the streetlights outside that he can make out the profile of her face, the angle of her jawline, and how she’s got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

The awkward tension from earlier still somewhat lingers, but there’s a strange sense of comfortability around them now too. Because no matter what happens they’re still just Hailey and Jay. They’re still them. And before he can think twice he’s reaching his hand out under the covers to find hers. The sudden contact of his skin and the squeeze of his fingers against hers makes her jump and she turns her head to seek out his eyes in the slight darkness.

There’s a strange look on his face, one that she has seen before, but has tried to ignore. The look that tells her he feels it between them too, even though neither have admitted it or said anything out loud yet.

“You’re my best friend. You know that right?” He asks her then. His voice is deep and quiet, and he squeezes her hand again.

Hailey nods, realizing she’s been staring at him in silence this whole time before she says, “you’re my best friend, too.”

Jay squeezes her fingers once more and it’s quiet again as they lay side by side in her bed. He can feel it in the silence though. He can feel it in the slow brush of her thumb moving back and forth over the top of his hand. He can feel it in the way her eyes stare back at him.

There’s something palpable between them. Undeniable. It’s in everything they do and don’t do, everything they say and don’t say. They both know it, but say nothing else as they drift closer together in Hailey’s bed, not letting go of one another’s hand.

They don’t need to say anything because they know it’s just a matter of time before things change again for them. Until they finally break from their stubbornness and trepidation and insecurities that have stemmed from their broken pasts. They know this thing between them is inevitable.

#chicago pd #upstead #upstead fic #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay x hailey

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anna-justice · 4 years ago

Text

Not a Race - Upstead

Summary: Jay and Will revisit a conversation they had years ago, and this time it has a happy ending. (I promise Hailey shows up later lol)

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff

Requested: No

…

Jay pulled up in front of his and Hailey’s now shared apartment, putting the truck in park. “I’ll see you at Molly’s later?” He asked his girlfriend, confirming their plans.

“Yes Jay.” Hailey said, rolling her eyes. “I will be there at nine, the exact same time I said I was going to be there five times today.”

“And who are you supposed to pick up?” Jay questioned, smirking at her.

“Trudy.” Jay gave her a pointed look, “I am supposed to fake an emergency, but bring her to Molly’s instead.”

Jay smiled at Hailey, finding her annoyance adorable. “I love you.” He said, his demeanor softening a bit.

Hailey’s grumpy look faded and she leaned across the center console, pecking him on the lips. “I love you too.” Jay reached out and pulled her back to him, kissing her again. Hailey smiled into it before reluctantly pulling away. “You gotta go,” she sighed. “How’d you get roped into to doing this anyway?” She asked as she opened the truck door.

“Kim.” Jay said, and Hailey nodded. “Five year anniversaries are a big deal apparently.”

“Apparently.” Hailey laughed, shutting the door. Jay rolled down the window, not quite ready to leave yet. “Platt and Mouch better appreciate it, they’ve stolen so much of my Jay time lately.”

Jay chuckled, “Babe, we work together...and live together. You see me at least twenty-three hours out of the day.”

Hailey shrugged, “It’s not enough.” She smirked at him before heading towards the front door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wear something pretty.” Jay called at her, laughing.

After he was sure she was safely inside, he pulled out of the parking spot and out of the parking lot. He made the short drive to his brother's apartment, where Will was waiting for him. He was feeling a little jittery, so he opted for the stairs to hopefully wear him out a little bit. “Hey man.” He said, entering the apartment. (He had a key in case Will ever did something stupid...like lose his.)

“Hey.” Will said, getting up off the couch and heading towards the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” He asked.

“No, I’m good.” Jay said, leaning against his counter.

“How are you feeling?” Will asked, taking a sip of the water bottle he got himself.

Jay shrugged, “I’m good.” Will eyed him, “Listen man, I know we talked about it before, but I just want to make sure that it’s okay...again.” Jay thought back to what felt like a lifetime ago, a few days before Erin left for New York.

Jay stood in front of the whiteboard with Will, looking through photos of victims from their recent drug case. “At least you guys get overtime.” Will said, before fishing in his pocket, Will pulled a red velvet box, surprising Jay. Will had seemed so against him proposing to Erin that he was sure he wouldn’t let him near their mom’s ring. “Mom’s ring. She always said it’s not a race, but whoever meets the right girl first gets the ring.”

Jay took the box in his hands, chuckling. “Hmm.” His mom was so important to him, and having Erin wear her ring felt like the blessing they needed, like his mom was a part of it.

Will watched his brother with caution, but smiled kindly. “You sure about this?” Jay stared blankly at him and Will nodded, he always knew he was the king of stupid questions. “You tell dad?”

“Why do I have to tell dad? It’s mom’s ring, not his.” Jay rushed out, immediately jumping down his brother's throat. Kevin interrupted them before Will could say anything, but Jay walked away feeling confident in his decision.

And he was, maybe even as confident as he was now. Jay pulled the same velvet box out of his pocket and set it on the counter. “Will, I’m sure.” He said, and this time he had the words to express how he was feeling. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life, but I already had one chance with this ring and if you want it-”

“Jay.” Will said, cutting him off. “I know mom always said it wasn’t a race, but you won. Hailey is…”

“The most amazing person that I have ever met.” Jay sighed out.

Will laughed, “I was going to say ‘going to love it,’ but that works too.”

Jay beamed at his brother, taking the box back in his hand. “She’s the one Will, I know it. And I never thought I would say this, but I wish I could tell dad.”

Will placed a comforting hand on his brother’s back, “He knows man. They both do.”

Jay took a big breath and laughed nervously. “I’m proposing.” He said.

“Yeah, you are.” Will said, sharing his brother’s obvious joy. All he ever wanted was for Jay to be happy, and he knew without a doubt that Hailey was it for him.

“You think she’ll say yes?” Jay asked in a teasing voice.

Will laughed loudly, “I’d say it’s a solid 80 percent.”

...

About an hour later Jay was back in his truck headed to Molly’s. It was almost seven o’clock, two hours from Hailey’s arrival and the unit had a lot to do before she got there. Almost like she could hear him thinking about her, he got a text.

Hailes: I know I’m bringing Trudy, but who is in charge of Mouch? Shouldn’t they be coming together?

Shit. He hadn’t thought of that.

Jay: Ritter is getting Mouch. Don’t worry about it, we have a plan.

Hailes: Okay, whatever you say.

Jay sighed, he would admit a fake anniversary party was a little lame, but the only other thing he could think of was a fake baby shower and something told him that it wouldn’t really be appropriate to throw one of those in a bar.

Hailes: Also, “in charge” Jay is kinda sexy...you should help throw parties more often.

Jay smirked at his phone while he sat in the parking lot, shaking his head he texted back.

Jay: Good to know ;)

Jay: Get ready for the best birthday of your life.

When he pulled the door open, he was met with Kim shouting orders at Herrmann, Mouch, Kevin and Adam. Most of the decorations were already hung and he was informed that there were ten bottles of champagne hidden behind the counter.

“Wow. It looks amazing in here.” He looked at Kim directly. “Thank you.”

Kim grinned, “Of course! It’s not everyday that one of my oldest friends proposes to my best friend.” She says, playfully punching his arm. Vanessa had been gone for over a year and in that time Hailey and Kim had gotten really close, they all had. After years of losing one person after another, the members of intelligence felt more like a family than they ever had before.

“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Jay asked, Adam and Kevin trickling into the conversation.

“It’s a long time coming, that’s for sure.” Adam said, wrapping his arm around Kim.

Kevin scoffed, “Oh, like you can talk.” He teased.

Jay’s nerves got worse and worse, “This isn’t too much right?” Jay asked his friends, “You think she’ll like it?”

“Jay.” Kim said, gaining his attention. “You could slip a ring pop on Hailey’s finger in front of the district and she would love it, because she loves you. But this,” She gestures around the room, “this is beautiful and incredibly sweet and romantic. This is everything she deserves.”

Jay smiles with pride, he wants to be everything she deserves, but Hailey Upton deserves the entire world and he wouldn’t mind spending his entire life trying to give her that. “Burgess, we just need to get you a t-shirt that says ‘I’m basically a hallmark card.’” Kevin says, motioning across his chest.

“Let’s have a toast.” Kim says and on que Herrmann has glasses ready for them.

Kevin raises his glass, “To the OGs.”

Kim rolls her eyes, but raises her glass as well, “To Jay and Hailey.”

Jay raises his glass and so does Adam, giving a toast of his own. “To upstead.”

Jay lowers his arm and glares at Adam, “Man, you have got to stop calling us that.”

“Anyway,” Kim says, “To love.”

“True love.” Adam interjects.

“Adam.” Kim snaps.

“What, you're the only one that gets to be a hallmark card? That’s not fair.”

“How about this,” Jay says, raising his glass again. “To me not shitting my pants before she gets here.”

They all laugh, “I’ll drink to that,” Kevin says shrugging and then all down their drinks.

…

At eight forty-five Jay stood at the bar, his hands sweaty and his knees a little shaky. It was fifteen minutes until go time and he got more anxious by the second. He was pretty sure she was going to say yes, but he wanted it to be perfect for her. As perfect as she was for him.

Most of their friends have arrived and were talking amongst themselves around the perimeter of the bar, leaving room for Hailey to eventually make her way down the middle to Jay. Everyone was buzzing, taking in the decorations and consuming copious amounts of alcohol, something that Jay had decided against doing even though he would love a beer (or five) right about now.

At three til nine, he got a text from Hailey stating that they had arrived and Jay shushed everyone, standing in the middle of the room to wait for his (hopefully) future wife.

Hailey walked down the sidewalk with the desk sergeant, hiding her smile. She was excited to see what her friends had come up with for the happy couple. They reached the door and Hailey smirked at Trudy, “Hey sarge.”

“Upton?”

“Happy anniversary.”

This time Trudy smirked, “It isn’t my anniversary.”

“What-” Hailey started, but froze in her spot as she opened the door. The sight in front of her was breathtaking. The usual fairy lights were still hung up, but also hanging from the ceiling were hundreds of pictures, pictures of her and Jay. Hailey felt her eyes welling up with tears, she took a few steps forward, looking around to see all of her closest friends, her family. At a closer look, she could see all of the tables had empty bottles of various alcohols, all labeled with dates and cards with memories.

He was grinning ear to ear, but when she saw him, it somehow got even bigger. “Jay.” She laughed out.

“Hey.” He said, meeting her in the middle of the room.

“I hate to break it to you, but you decorated for the wrong couple.” She joked.

“Oh no, really?” He gasped and Hailey laughed.

Jay took her in, she was wearing her signature black jeans and a blue sweater. She looked as beautiful as ever, and he was ready. “Quite the crowd…” She whispered.

“I know, I’m a little nervous.” He said, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Hailey Anne Upton, there are not enough words to describe how much I love you. And I have never been good at expressing my feelings, you know that better than anyone. But I have said it a million times and I will say it a million more: I would follow you anywhere. I looked at you and knew you were the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I looked at you and I trusted you, I have trusted you since the day I met you. I look at you, and I’ve got it. I look at you and I see the rest of my life, I see that you are everything I have ever wanted and more. I look at you and I know that you are it for me, there will never be anyone like you Hailey.”

Hailey felt the tears begin to roll down her face, he used her own words against her. Jay reached in his pocket, pulling out just a ring. “This is my mother’s ring, and for so long she was the most important woman in my life. But she has been gone for a long time and Hailey you have taken that place, and she would have loved you. So,” Jay said, finally getting down on one knee. “Will you make me the luckiest man alive, and marry me?”

Hailey took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. “Yes.” She choked out before launching herself into his arms. Jay caught her with ease and kissed her passionately as their friends cheered for them. Jay reluctantly set Hailey back down on the floor, pressing another kiss to her lips before stepping back and finally slipping the ring on her finger.

“Perfect fit.” He said, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He said, peeking down at her.

“I love you so much.” She hugged him tighter, “And I cannot wait to be your wife.”

“Let’s just elope, we can get married tomorrow.” Jay said.

Hailey scoffed, “That’s a funny joke, Kim would kill me.”

“Good point.” He said, holding her tightly. “I’m thinking of a June wedding.”

“Did you really just say that?” Hailey burst out laughing.

Jay grimaced, “We don’t have to talk about it…”

Hailey turned to face him, pressing her palms to his chest. “How about this? We can get married whenever and wherever you want, as long as you wear your thigh holster during the whole ceremony.”

Jay gave her a shocked look, “Please tell me you aren’t kidding.”

Hailey got up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I’m dead serious.”

“Thank God.”

The happy couple accepted some congratulations before sneaking over to the bar. It had turned into a full on party, Herrmann turned the music up and everything. “You know, Hailey Halstead has a nice ring to it.” She confessed as she leaned into Jay.

“I think so.” He said, beaming at her.

“Excuse me everyone.” Kim said, clinking her glass as they were passed around to everyone. She raised hers, “To the happy couple, I love you both and I am so happy for you. We all are.”

“And to the fact that Jay didn’t shit his pants!” Adam interjected from beside her.

“What?” Hailey whispered under her breath.

“Don’t worry about it…” Jay muttered, mentally punching Adam in the face.

Kim shrugged, “Sure.” They all raised their glasses and cheered. Jay set his and Hailey’s down and dipped her dramatically, bringing his lips to hers once again.

“I love you Jay Halstead,” She said as he brought her back to a standing position.

“I love you too, the future Mrs. Hailey Halstead.”

…

A/N: I watched the clip from 4x23 and then debated posting this idea just as a discussion comment, but then I was like “why not” and I just wrote it! I’m so glad I did, I wrote it so fast and loved writing it. I also hope that this didn’t come off as Erin bashing, I try not to write like that. I was the biggest linstead fan and I still love Erin, I just have moved on from linstead and wanted to show the potential parallels. Anyway, I promise I will update Lost or Found soon, it’s been crazy the past few months and I honestly haven’t had the motivation to write, but the scooby gang will be back soon! Thank you so much for reading! <3

#jay halstead #hailey upton #hailey upton x jay halstead #jay halstead x hailey upton imagine #upstead imagines #upstead #kim burgess #will halstead #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #chicago pd #chicago pd imagines

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corie-the-writer · 4 years ago

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Ignite - ch.1

Chapter 1

Chloe was aggravated as she left the hospital early that morning. She was thankful that Kelly had given her one of his long sleeve fire shirts, and Will Halstead had found a pair of scrub pants small enough for her to wear. She had only escaped with second degree burns on her right hand and some smoke inhalation, but she had lost everything.

Her father had given her the day off so she could go shopping to replace the clothes she had lost so she could get back to work, along with handing her a wad of cash, since her bank card had melted in the fire. The woman had tried to protest, but had no luck. The only good thing that came from losing everything was remembering that the items that belonged to her mother and brother were in a fireproof safe in her father's basement.

Kelly had offered to take the day off of work to help her get the things she needed but she had declined. He had even offered for her to crash at his apartment with Matt until she could find another place, but she had decided to stay with her father.

Chloe had decided to stop at Target first. Filling the cart with shower essentials, a few make-up products, a new hair brush and hair dryer, toothbrush and toothpaste. Chloe had scanned the clothing section, finding a few plain white, black and gray t-shirts, along with a couple of pajama shorts. Once she had paid for the items, she had decided to hit up the mall to find a few jeans, a new pair of boots and a new leather jacket.

It was noon by the time Chloe arrived back at her father's home with everything she had needed to replace the ruined items. She had put the clothes away into the drawers and closet, and then grabbed all of her bathroom items and headed to take a shower.

Once she had gotten showered and the smoke off of her from the night before, Chloe had put on her underwear and bra, and then wiggled into a pair of black skinny jeans with a few rips in the knees, black boots, and a white v-neck t-shirt, and then put on a red flannel shirt and slipped on her black leather jacket. Deciding to pile her hair onto her head in a messy bun, Chloe headed back into the bathroom to brush her teeth and put on a little make-up.

When Chloe felt complete, she had grabbed her jeep Rubicon keys and headed out of the house to head to the district.

"Oh my god...are you okay?" Trudy Platt questioned as Chloe leaned against the desk counter, seeing the bandaged hand.

"Just peachy." Chloe taking off the sunglasses and tucking the metal onto her shirt, "I'm gonna need a new badge and gun." Chloe stated and watched as Trudy reached under the desk.

"Here. Voight called me last night. Got it together this morning." Trudy slide the badge and gun with a holster towards her.

"Thank you." Chloe hooked the badge to her jeans first, and then holstered the new gun on her hip, "I really appreciate it." Chloe smiled gratefully to the woman.

"I'm really glad you're okay Chlo..." Trudy spoke honestly as Chloe gave a nod to the older woman as she headed for the stairs.

Chloe had known Trudy Platt for most of her life, the older woman taking her under her wing when her mother had passed away. When Chloe was young, Hank had brought Chloe to the district while he had worked and she had spent time with the woman behind the desk.

The dark haired detective went up the stairs to find her partner Adam Ruzek waiting for her, "About damn time..." Adam sighed, "I'm starving and we need to go question a couple of people." Adam added causing Chloe to playfully role her eyes.

"You think we can stop by Verizon so I can pick up a new phone?" Chloe questioned as Ruzek grabbed his jacket and gun.

"Yeah." Adam slipped his jacket on, "Anywhere else princess?" Adam teased causing Chloe to glare at him as they began the walk down the stairs.

"Actually, the bank too." Chloe chuckled when Adam let out a dramatic sigh as he pushed the door open, "Who's driving?" Chloe questioned.

"I can." Adam grumbled heading across the street to his car with Chloe following.

Once the pair had stopped by Verizon, the bank and to grab food, Chloe had been filled in on the case intelligence had caught that morning. Adam had given her a file to look over of the murdered man.

The man was shot in an alley with no form of ID, gun powder underneath his nails, a stamp on his left hand, and a hotel key. While Atwater and Halstead had been at the crime scene asking surrounding business owners for a look at their security footage, Ruzek and Chloe were left to investigate the hotel room and figure out where the stamp on the man's hand had led to.

"I've seen this stamp before..." Chloe commented as she looked at the photo of the stamp, "I just don't remember where." Chloe added as Adam pulled into the parking lot of the skeezy hotel on the edge of town.

Chloe had shut the file sticking it under the seat, she lifted her head to look around to find 319B. Both Detectives got out of the car and made sure to cover their badges and guns, before walking towards the flight of stairs that led to the second floor.

"Chlo..." Adam spoke quietly as they reached the door they were looking for, seeing that the door was slightly open with blood on the door handle.

Chloe quickly pulled her gun with Adam doing the same, and moved in front of Adam to get on the other side of the door. Adam gave her an alert look, she nodded in understanding as Adam used his left hand to push the door open slightly, while having his gun aimed. Adam cleared the part of the room he could see, while Chloe quickly scanned the side she could see before they entered.

"Chicago PD..." Chloe spoke loudly, nearly gagging at the smell from inside the hotel room.

Chloe scanned the bedroom area and noticed a large suitcase on the bed filled with various things, some scattered on the bed as Adam searched the bathroom.

"Body.." Adam spoke loud enough for Chloe to hear, "It's clear..." Adam came back into the bedroom area to see Chloe covering her mouth and nose, "I'm gonna call it in." Chloe gave a nod, moving to grab a black glove from her jacket pocket and slipping it on to rummage through the suitcase to see if she could find anything.

"Can you check to see if he has any ID, maybe a stamp on his hand too?" Chloe questioned to her partner.

Chloe looked to the suitcase, digging through some of the clothes and found a bag of drugs along with a couple wads of cash and a hand gun.

"Guy in there is Sortelli Michaels." Adam spoke as he walked out of the bathroom with the ID in his hand, "No stamp though." Adam moved to the bed to see the drugs, gun and cash, "Drug deal gone wrong?" Adam questioned out loud.

"I'm not sure..." Chloe looked to the suitcase and noticed that the top of the material was a little bumpy, "Do you have your knife on you?" Chloe questioned and Adam mumbled a yeah, so she held out her hand to take the knife. Flipping the knife open, Chloe had cut the material of the suitcase and stuck her gloved hand in carefully feeling a few pictures, "Bingo." Chloe pulled the pictures out and her stomach churned.

"What the..." Adam looked over Chloe's shoulder to see the photos.

There were three different photos of three different girls somewhere between eighteen and twenty two. 'Cleo. Samantha. Veronica' were written on the polaroid's, and they looked to be beaten and half dressed with rope in their mouths.

Chloe and Adam had waited until the crime scene investigators arrived, and then headed back to start searching through the missing person's database for the three girls.

"Okay, fill us in." Hank Voight stand crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against Chloe's desk as she and her partner stood near the large white board.

"So far we have Frank Waters that was found in the alley with three gun shots to the chest. He had the hotel key, and there we had found Sortelli Michaels. He has no criminal record, but he had a large stash of cash, drugs and a hand gun. When searching through his suitcase, we found a photo of these three women. Cleo, Samantha, and Veronica. We're running their names through the database now." Chloe explained.

"I decided to reach out to a couple of my CI's and asked about the stamp found on Waters hand." Adam began, "There is a nightclub called NIXX that is apparently real high class, mostly rich men." Adam explained.

"So let's start looking into Michaels and Waters background. See if this NIXX club is tied into these murders some how. Halstead, Atwater, try locating the families of these girls see what you can find out. Chloe, Ruzek, start looking into the guys history, work, family, friends." Hank stated, "We not only have two dead bodies but three missing girls, let's find them."

Chloe and Ruzek gave a nod in understanding, grabbing their jackets and guns, Chloe had grabbed the file for Michaels and Waters with a list of their home and work addresses. Since the families had yet to be notified, Chloe knew that they would be the ones to break the news.

Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket, Chloe pulled out the device as Ruzek began to drive to Waters home. Seeing that Kelly had text her, she quickly read the text.

K: Just wanted to check in to see how you were. C: Good, got everything I needed. K: If I have a minute later, I'll give you a call.

Chloe had not bothered to reply because she and Kelly both knew just how busy their jobs were, so she shoved the phone back into her pocket and looked to the file to go over Waters information listed.

"It says he is married to a woman named Mary, two sons, Derrick and Michael." Chloe read information to Ruzek as he pulled up to a large two story home in a good part of Chicago. Tucking the file back into the seat, Chloe and Ruzek got out of the car and headed up the sidewalk that led to the house. Knocking on the large oak door, Chloe shoved her hands in her pockets for a moment waiting for someone to answer while Ruzek looked to the ground.

These types of visits were never easy, but after a while you tend to get use to the robot voice that comes out of your mouth as you tell someone they had lost a loved one.

Hearing the door open, Chloe took her hands out of her pocket and saw a blonde haired woman in her forties answer the door with a smile, "May I help you?" The woman questioned kindly.

"Mrs. Mary Waters?" Chloe questioned and watched the woman nod her head, "My name is Detective Chloe Voight, and this is my partner Detective Adam Ruzek from Chicago PD." Chloe stated the mantra for visits like this.

"Oh god..." Mary Waters started to tremble.

"May we come in to talk?" Ruzek had spoken up.

Chloe watched as the woman gave a nod, opening the door a little further for them to walk inside the home. Chloe locked her hands together in front of her as Adam broke the news that her husband was murdered early that morning. Chloe had learned to shut off the part of her mind that caused her to get emotional when she was on a case, and had to break the news to loved ones. Once the woman had cried into Adam's chest for a solid twenty minutes, Adam ushered her to a chair and sat her down.

"We need to ask you a few questions..." Chloe spoke gently, "Do you know what your husband was doing out that late last night?" Chloe questioned, making sure to keep her voice gentle.

"He uh...he said that he had to do some late night work. He's a reporter, so he always wanted to make sure that he got the first scoop before anyone else." Mary explained.

"With him being a reporter, was there ever any threats? Anyone that had a problem with him?" Adam questioned.

"No, not that I'm aware of." Mary answered.

"And he worked at Chicago Times, correct?" Chloe questioned, remembering the file information.

"Yeah. But he had started working for a gossip news website a couple months ago." Mary explained as her oldest son walked into the room from downstairs.

"Ma, what's going on?" Derrek questioned.

"These are detectives with Chicago PD." Mary sighed, "Your father was murdered last night."

Chloe watched the young man, seeing that his hand clenched at his side, his jaw set quickly and shook his head, while his mother began to cry again. Chloe had watched as the young man walked out the front door, and decided to go check on him, while Adam wrapped up questions with Mary.

"Derrek." Chloe spoke his name to see him starting to walk off the property, "I'm Detective Chloe Voight." Chloe approached as he stopped, "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thanks." Derrek mumbled, shoving his hands into his pocket.

Chloe was good at reading people, and she knew that Derrek had wanted to speak about something because it looked like he had wanted to explode within moments.

"Is there anyone you can think of who would do this?" Chloe questioned gently, "Maybe a co-worker, a rival?" Chloe suggested.

"No, everyone loved him." Derrek stated, "I just...I found out last night that my dad was cheating on my mom." Derrek sighed, "We got into a huge fight about it. I overheard him on the phone talking to a woman, promising to meet her last night." Derrek explained, "I told him if he didn't end things with her I would tell my mom."

"Do you know the woman's name?" Chloe questioned, "Any information that could help me find her?"

"Uh, I think her name is Ashley." Derrek explained, "I hacked into his phone about a week ago when I started connecting the dots. He had several texts to her. I ended up emailing them to myself in case he didn't come clean." Derrek explained.

"Do you still have the emails?" Chloe questioned and watched as he gave a nod to fish out his cell phone.

"The thing is, mom and dad cheat on each other all the time." Derrek explained as he got into his emails, "I'm just trying to look out for my kid brother, he's too young to know what's going on but the times they find someone, they start becoming shit parents." Derrek handed the phone to Chloe.

Chloe began to scan through the screenshots of the texts shared between Waters and Ashley, seeing the nightclub NIXX being mentioned a couple of times, and then saw a photo of Ashley, a red-head, as Adam came out of the house.

"Do you mind if I email these to myself?" Chloe questioned.

"Go ahead."

Once Chloe had emailed the screenshots to herself, she had given Derrek her card, "If you happen to think of anything, please don't hesitate to reach out." Chloe thanked the young man and headed to the car with Ruzek.

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide one shot #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide x oc #nbc chicago fire #nbc chicago pd #Ignite Series #Ignite Chapter One

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.49

Keith had no idea it’d be another month before he saw Lance again for longer than half an hour. His boyfriend had been to Platt, their schedules not lining up in the slightest. He’d only been able to see Lance as Lance was picking up blood and checking in with Coran. He’d seen Lance again at a festival Platt was holding, he and Shiro there to make sure nothing supernatural happened, so he’d only been able to see him from afar. He’d wanted to blow off work and join Lance, Miriam, Hunk, and Pidge, but he had a responsibility to the festival goers. Lance had called him that night to fill him in on his day, but it wasn’t the same as being there with him. His schedule was brutal, not by Coran’s design, but thanks to there being so much to learn about his new home city.

Perhaps sensing the distance, and the fact they missed each other like crazy, Coran suddenly gave him the weekend off. Keith couldn’t wait until the Saturday morning, pestering Shiro into going down to Garrison on the Friday night.

When they reached Lance’s house, Keith was disappointed to find Lance’s car not parked out the front with Curtis’s and Hunk’s vehicles. He hadn’t told Lance he was coming, he wanted it to be a surprise. They’d talked daily since the last time he’d stayed the night, not that they hadn’t before, but any time Keith had the time to call, Lance would answer. Anytime anything happened at home, even when Keith couldn’t answer, Lance would write him a near essay and message it through. If he boyfriend found it funny, he’d leave it as a voice message, knowing it’d make him smile. There hadn’t been that much to smile about of late. He and Shiro had spent far too much time sussing out vampire, and werewolf, bars. As well as being forced to meet other hunters in the city. His sleep pattern had done nearly a full flip, most nights he found himself falling asleep just before dawn. Coran wasn’t working them hard, that was Shiro being a hard arse... not that they really had the luxury of sitting back when something was definitely bad stirring within the vampire community. Making connections was vital. But all Keith wanted to be was connected with Lance. Talking him through a heat wasn’t the same as being able to hold him when he cried.

Shiro let him take the lead, his brother casting him a glance, Keith ignoring it. For all he knew Matt could have borrowed Lance’s car. Knocking on the front door, Keith ignored the doorbell. If Lance was home, he’d have heard him and come down. His surprise had gone as sideways as the last time he’d be here. Opening the door, Hunk’s face lit up momentarily, fell slightly, then Keith was pulled into a tight hug

“Lance is going to be happy to see you. Come in, man. He’ll be back later tonight”

That didn’t sound ominous. Leading them through to the living room, Matt raised an eyebrow at him

“The prodigal boyfriend returns. ‘sup, Shiro”

Curtis wasn’t there. Rieva was lounging back in a recliner, nose buried in a book as Matt paused the video game he was playing

“Where’s Lance?”

Hunk patted his shoulder

“Platt. He took off so fast he left his phone here. Curtis went with him, Miriam is grandmother after all”

Keith felt like he was supposed to know what was going on here, and he didn’t want to admit he didn’t. Shiro cleared his throat

“Something happened to Miriam?”

“A bit of a cold, but at her age it could turn nasty fast. He picked up on it last weekend. Apparently he’s having trouble with an uncle too. Pidge and I never really pried about his family, sometimes you just kind of know not to, but he’s been down about it. Having his cousin here’s helped. He’s going to be so happy to see you. Don’t worry man, Pidge has no clue”

Hunk tapped the side of his nose, Keith wondering what that mean. Did he smell? Why would Pidge care if he smelt?

“”No clue” about what?”

“You two. Don’t worry, Lance hasn’t said anything, but for someone he’s not dating, he talks about you a lot”

Keith internally panicked for a moment. Did he confirm he was dating Lance? He wanted to confirm he was dating Lance. But he was shocked that Lance hadn’t told him about Miriam. His boyfriend must have been in Platt more than he thought... Luis was a dick. Maybe Lance was so stressed from dealing with things that he’d been keeping it to himself again. Or maybe he didn’t want Keith in the same room as his brother...

“What were you tapping your nose for?”

“Because I “knows”... Is that not a thing any more?”

From the sofa Matt called

“It’s a thing. Keith is just dense. He’s too busy thinking about Lance not being here. At least the house has been quite now the heats died down”

Matt emphasised the word “heats”. Keith felt like he was taking a jab at him for not being there through Lance’s heats. His boyfriend had told him his body seemed to be settling down. Keith relieved for him. He knew how much of a toll it took. Hunk shrugged

“Yep. And now Pidge is limiting to visiting instead of sleeping here, we don’t have to put up with you two fighting mid game”

“We weren’t fighting. She doesn’t like losing”

Holding his hands up, Hunk clearly didn’t want to go there

“That’s between you and her. I’m just here for Lance”

It was good Lance had that support network, but it meant hiding so much away. At least he hadn’t had to confirm he was dating Lance... even if he kind of wanted to, it felt like the moment passed.

Barely ten minutes had passed before there was the crunch of gravel and headlights in the drive. Keith had sat, but he was on his feet and moving for the front door before his mind had caught up. Opening the door, Lance walked straight over to him. Wrapping his arms around him, his boyfriend melted into his hold

“I’m so fucking happy to see you”

Lance meant it, and Keith knew he meant it

“I’m happy to see you too”

They stood there long enough that Hunk came to check on them as Curtis waited outside for the doorway to be clear

“Lance, how is she?”

“They’re monitoring her. Thanks for being here”

“Any time, man. I made dinner, it’s in the fridge and there’s left overs”

“You’re the best”

Lance broke the hug, moving to hug Hunk

“I’m going to go now that Keith’s here, but I’ll be back tomorrow”

“Thank you. I wouldn’t know what to do without you”

“It’s fine. I’ve got this, you just get some rest”

“That’s the plan. I really can’t thank you enough”

Hunk hugged Lance back, Keith waiting patiently to steal Lance back into his hold

“Be good and I’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry to just leave, Keith. It’s good to see you, man”

Keith wasn’t offended. He was too worried about Lance and too sleepy to be offended

“Yeah, you too. Drive safe”

When Hunk left, Keith followed Lance to his office. Grabbing out a blood bag, Lance seemed a little lost

“What’s up?”

“I want to hug you, but is it weird while I’m eating?”

“Nah. It’s fine. I did kind of show up without messaging”

“I know... God, I’m exhausted”

“Want to go bed and talk about it?”

Lance gave him a tired smile

“Other than showing up tonight, that’s the best thing I’ve heard today”

“I was worried when your car wasn’t here”

“Mami took a sudden turn. She’s fine. Well, she’s okay. They’re monitoring her closely to make sure it doesn’t develop into pneumonia. I was planning on asking to see you tomorrow in Platt, but I’m just so fucking happy you’re here”

Things clicked. Coran suddenly giving them weekend off. Lance went to Coran over everything, Coran loved Lance like a son. Lance would have told him about Miriam, he probably would have told him not to interfere with his work schedule, and put Keith above his own needs. Keith could almost kiss Coran. Almost. The man was seriously weird and oddly happy most of the time. Yet... he wasn’t like any boss Keith had ever had. He always enquired over Keith and Shiro, like making sure they were doing okay in the apartment and not over working themselves... beyond Shiro being a slave driver. Coran probably knew, he probably knew that they both needed each other right now for different reasons. It was meddlesome to have his love life discussed, but he really fucking missed Lance.

Lance was a stumbling mess as he tried to undress. He’d started yawning as they made their way upstairs and hadn’t stopped. Stripping down to his underwear, Lance gazed at his pyjamas like it was too much effort

“Skip them. It’s just the two of us”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not really. I didn’t bring a change of clothes...”

He’d brought himself. That was about it. He’d left both phone chargers at home with him impatience to get to Garrison

“You can borrow whatever you want”

“I know. Let’s skip changing tonight”

That’s how the ended up cuddling in bed in just their underwear. Lance curled against Keith with his blood bag sitting on Keith’s chest as Keith played with his hair. Letting Lance eat, he didn’t know where to begin when it came to bringing up Miriam, so let Lance take the lead. Half a bag of blood later, Lance sighed softly

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mami right away. I thought it was just a bug, but they called me today to tell me she was sounding worse. I kind of dropped everything and went”

“You were going to tell me tomorrow, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to interrupt your work until we knew what was going on. I was actually hoping to have you to myself tomorrow night”

“Coran suddenly gave us the weekend off”

“He knows... about Mami. Curtis goes there when I go see her. He came to see her too”

“How is she? Like, really?”

“Not good... Her memory’s playing up. She knows me, so that’s okay. Luis... she tried to cover not recognising him when he came with Lisa to visit”

Right. Lisa was the sister-in-law

“And you?”

“I’m... I’m scared that this is it. I wanted to bring her home to care for her, but it’s better she’s in Platt”

“I’m sorry I can’t do anything”

“You have no idea how much you being here tonight is everything I need right now. It’s probably not what you had planned”

“It’s fine. I wanted to see you. I’ve missed seeing you”

Lance started to cry, Keith moving the blood bag aside to pull him in close

“I’m sorry... I miss you so much. I know you’re working, but I think lately the only thing keeping me sane is talking to you every night”

“I don’t think I’ve ever kept anyone sane”

“You need to think higher of yourself. Fuck... let’s not talk about me. How’s work?”

Keith snorted. Work was work

“Next question?”

“Shiro still being a hard arse?”

“Yeah. At the moment we’re still getting used to Platt. Shiro insists on going out every night to snoop around. Coran’s given us a briefing on what’s happening, so at the moment it’s all about watching and learning who’s who”

“I’m sure you’re loving that. Not having to talk to people”

He wasn’t that bad... He could trade memes with the best of them now

“I talk to people. I talk to you, and I talk to Pidge, and I talk to Hunk”

“I know. So proud of you”

Keith shoved Lance playfully

“Wanker”

“Takes one to know one. Hey... thanks... for coming”

“Anytime I can... Things sound like they’ve settled down around here”

Wiping his face, Lance then stared down at him

“Matt told you, didn’t he?”

“Matt told me, what?”

“He had a go at you about my heats again, didn’t he?”

Matt had said it’d died down?

“Nope. But apparently you’ve got something to tell me?”

“I feel like you just tricked me”

Keith pursed his lips, in though. Lance leaning down to kiss him. Not the plan but definitely not something he was going to object to. Keith found he was the one tricked as his boyfriend moved from kissing him to cuddling against him again

“Did you just kiss me to distract me?”

“A little. They’re not as bad as they were, I mean, they still hit randomly, which you know about. I... just... um... Matt got mad at me for neglecting my body. Apparently I’m making sex a bigger thing than I needed to. He bought me a flesh light, threw it at my head and then screamed that we should bone already because our phone calls are ridiculous and he doesn’t know how we’ve survived this long. I think he was ready to drive me to Platt and kick me out at your apartment next time it hit”

“What does Coran say?”

“It should have settled by now... but... um... everything’s um... there now”

“No more growing pains?”

“Only heat cramps”

Keith squeezed him tightly

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Keith felt like a terrible boyfriend. He kind of forgot things were growing inside his boyfriend and it wasn’t always heat pain. He’d kind of not wanted to know all the details

“I don’t know... growing a womb is kind of weird when you’re a 44 year old man. Coran did a scan, everything’s like... there now. My heat periods should settle now that it’s all grown. I’m still meant avoid extreme stress, and my stressors. He said to leave it another two months then I can go on some kind of birth control”

This was all good news. Good news that Keith felt came with not so good news, because this was them

“And long term”

“I’m going to be really horny come spring. Nah. He’s not sure. Breeders aren’t generally free to live their lives. Plus I’m like ancient for this to be happening”

“He doesn’t have more answers?”

“Not really. I could still go into heat any time and have to be careful”

“That’s hard”

“It is what it is. At least I’m not like a wolf and have no self control”

Lance spoke up, clearly ribbing Matt, Keith couldn’t help but tease him

“So no more randomly blurting out you want to ride my dick?”

“Not tonight at any rate. He gave me shit for days after you left. He was very disappointed that all the noise we made wasn’t... you know... doing the penetrative do”

“Let’s not call it that again”

“Yeah that felt weird. Anyway, you need to tell me more about work”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course I do. My badarse boyfriend’s out there keeping us all safe”

“Hardly”

“So I didn’t see you at the festival?”

Talk about being sprung. His ability to tail people had obviously slipped. How lame must he have looked

“You saw me?”

“I felt someone watching. You really like your black suit, don’t you?”

Keith groaned

“It’s official Blade uniform. Coran had us working security”

“I kind of figured that much out. It felt a little safer with you out there”

“Only a little safer?”

“Well, you are kind of an idiot...”

Visions of their first encounter as hunter and prey made Keith groan again. He’d never live that down

“Your faith in me is outstanding”

Lance sniffled, rubbing his cheek against Keith’s chest

“I’ll always have faith in you. Thank you for existing”

Keith was struck dumb at that. What did one say to that when he’d been such a burden to so many people. Leaning up, he buried his face in Lance’s hair

“Can I come with you to see Mami tomorrow?”

“Yeah... yeah, that’d be nice. She likes hearing about what you’re up to”

“You talk about me?”

Keith knew they did, talk about him. He just didn’t know what how one talked to their parent

“She likes hearing about the normal things. How you hate traffic. How your furniture hasn’t arrived. How bad your jokes are. How you hate those sensors Coran makes you wear because they make you itch”

“That doesn’t seem something worth talking about”

“It is... because all these things make you, you. God. I sound like a dad. It’s okay to be yourself son. Just give it your best shot, slugger!”

Keith let his head drop back

“That was terrible”

“I spent my whole life actively not being a dad. Let me have my moments”

“And complaining about remembering when rides were 75cents doesn’t count?”

“Hey, you have no idea. And petrol. Petrol prices are so high these days”

“Let’s not forget how excited you got finding those LP’s in that second hand store”

“Pidge talks too much”

That was Pidge alright. She appreciated vintage, but when it came to Lance it was fair game

“And the those bear books”

“It’s Berenstain Bears! Now you’re insulting my childhood. They were quality books”

“Pidge said you screamed and scared the shop assistant”

Lance huffed. Yeah, Pidge was great for spilling Lance’s secrets from college

“Because they were readable”

People usually read books... Why would they buy a book otherwise?

“And your glam rock playlist? It’s like being in the car with Shiro”

“Your brother has impeccable music tastes”

“We both know it’s not true”

“You’re learning too much about me. It’s not fair”

“You can ask you know”

“I don’t want to push you. Can we go to sleep now? I’m a terrible host, but I’m exhausted”

Lance was still probably worrying himself in circles over his mother. He couldn’t change that, but coming out tonight had been the right move. He needed this. He needed Lance. He had to talk to Coran about his schedule because this with Lance... He needed this. He wanted this. Even on the worst days, he wanted to be there with his boyfriend. The distance of not seeing him for weeks felt like a life sentence. He couldn’t go that long again. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to hang out and do all the fun things Lance wanted to do with him

“Yeah, I’m beat too. Let’s get some sleep, then tomorrow I’ll drive you to Platt and we’ll spend the whole day with Miriam”

Lance kissed his chest

“Thank you...”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid

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makorragal-312 · 4 years ago

Text

Void (Part Six)

We’re back, baby!

Allura sighed as she sat on her bed, exhausted from the events of the night. Lance had dropped her off at her room a few minutes ago, so she couldn't help but to lose herself within her thoughts. A small smile came to her face as she recounted the night she had with Lance's family. They were truly wonderful people and had effortlessly made her feel like she was apart of the family. She was reminded of her mother's kindness during her talks with Lance's mother. She was reminded of her father's quiet yet sensitive nature when she looked at Lance's father. She laughed when she conversed with Veronica, Marco and Rachel and immediately felt like a kid again when she watched Luis and Lisa watching over Nadia and Sylvio. To say that the kids were miniature versions of Lance was an understatement.

Speaking of Lance...

The Altean couldn't help but to think about the red paladin. She noticed the unusual shift in his behavior throughout the majority of the night. She noticed how confused and conflicted he looked at the dinner table while she wasn't looking. He seemed to have calmed down just a little while they walked in the park, though she could feel there was still some tension from his end. And it didn't help matters that way he acted when he dropped her off.

Lance, would you like to come inside?

U-uh, no thanks! I'd like to, but I gotta get me beauty rest, you know? We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, so kinda need the energy!

Alright. So I'll-

Yup! See you in the morning! Good night, princess!

The princess furrowed her brows at the memory. She couldn't forget how fidgety and anxious he was to get out of there, like he was stuck in a mine field and was in fear of being blown to bits She knew that Lance didn't hate her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he's starting to avoid her. Just as she thought that, she felt little feet climb up to her shoulder. Allura turned her head to find the mice, happy and eager to see her and squeaking in delight. She couldn't help but to smile.

"It's good to see you, too. Have you been behaving well?" she asked, grinning. Platt turned their head, looking at the door for a quick moment before turning their head back to Allura, asking about Lance's whereabouts.

"He left not too long ago. He came over just to drop me off." Chulatt quickly climbed atop of Platt's head, tilting their head in curiosity before squeaking.

"Oh, he's alright. And don't worry. he was the perfect gentleman." Allura responded with a chuckle. Soon enough, the mice lined up next to each other, heads on their paws and eyes wide in anticipation.

"You want to know how the date went, don't you?" Allura asked in exasperation, already knowing the answer. Sure enough, all four mice nodded their heads in excitement. The Altean let out a sigh before she began.

"Well, it was…nice. We had dinner at his house and I got to meet his family. They're very lovely people. So…close." Allura let out a sad smile, being reminded of her parents and Altea. She let a cough, trying not to dwell on the memory.

"Anyway, afterwards he took me to a nearby park. We talked for a bit and then he decided to take us back to get ready for tomorrow. That's pretty much everything." Allura finished. She watched as Chuchule climbed on top of Platt, puckering their lips and mimicking kiss sounds. Allura blushed in embarrassment.

"A-absolutely not!" she yelled. Allura quickly turned around, trying her best to hide her blush. She wasn't going to go ahead and feed into their teasing. She heard the mice squeak in glee, assuming that their princess was lying and did in fact kiss the red paladin. Frustrated, Allura turned her head back to them quickly.

"I'm telling you I didn't! Well, he didn't." Allura spoke softly. The mice stopped squeaking as they observed Allura, taking aback by her sudden somber expression. They all tilted their heads in confusion. The princess noticed the gestures and sighed before explaining.

"When we were talking, there was a moment where Lance was opening up. He said that he wanted to help me find a family. A home. Something inside me just told me that he meant it and he truly did care for me. He truly loved me. I tried to get closer to, you know. But he pulled away and kissed my hand instead. I guess I got the wrong idea." the Altean recounted.

Allura thought back to that moment in the park. Words couldn't describe how safe she felt in that moment with him. How her heart felt like it was going to beat itself right out of her chest. How grateful she was for him being there for her. So yeah, she really wanted to kiss her and given how he's felt for her all of this time, she just assumed that he wanted it, too. And he did, it just happened to be her hand and not her lips. She felt Plachu climb up her shoulder and nuzzle their head against her cheek in comfort, which Allura genuinely appreciated. For the third time that night, the princess sighed and plopped her chin into her hand as she slouched.

"I just wish I knew what happened. If I did something to make him change his mind, I at least want to apologize and make things right."

And that's when it hit her. She quickly sat up straight, face filled with anxiety and horror. The mice looked the same.

"Do you think it's because of Lotor?" she asked in fear. The mice looked at each other for a second before shrugging. That certainly doesn't help matters, she thought.

But the more she thought about it, she honestly wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. When Lotor came along, she had completely brushed Lance aside, aiming to focus on her alchemy and helping Lotor whatever the cause. And somewhere down the line, she started to fall for the prince, and he for her. And sure enough, she let him kiss her. She wanted to let him kiss her. And everything was great…until it wasn't. She was exposed to his true colors and his true motives and let him go. And it hurt, because she wanted to believe that he could never do such a thing. He would never go ahead and kill innocent Alteans. She let him onto her ship. She let him near her paladins. And what's worse, she let him near Lance. He warned her of his intentions, but she chose to stand by Lotor.

He thought he was going to betray them. She chose Lotor.

He thought he was after Voltron. She chose Lotor.

He was in love with her. She chose Lotor.

The guilt she felt was immeasurable. It was bad enough that Lance had to witness her getting close to Lotor. But she knew that if he ever found out about their kiss, it would destroy him. And the last thing Allura wanted to do was put him through any more pain.

"He can't know about this."

_______________________________________________________________________

"You know you don't have to stay here, right?"

"I know, but I'm doing it anyway. But don't worry I'll be on my way out soon enough." Keith walked towards Lance, whom was laying down on his bed. He was about to leave Lance's room a few minutes ago until the red paladin began suffering from a tear-induced migraine, so he decided to hang back and look after him until the migraine showed signs of passing. Hence why he was currently walking towards the blue-eyed man with an aspirin pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Ugh, who made post-cry migraines a thing?" Lance wailed, accepting the pill from Keith's hand. He sat up and popped it into his mouth before taking a huge gulp of the water.

"I don't think the person who was crying intended to get a migraine in the first place." Keith chuckled, walking to the kitchen counter and sitting on its corresponding stool. Lance swerved his head at him to give the half-Galran a scowl as the latter merely smirked. Lance let out a defeated sigh, knowing he wasn't going to win the argument and plopped back onto the bed. Eventually, the room went into silence.

"Hey, man. I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Lance said somberly.

'Lance, you don't need to apologize. You're going through conflicting emotions with Allura. Anybody would break down over that." Keith replied reassuringly. Lance kept his gaze to the ceiling. Even though he already somewhat broke down in front of him earlier, he refused to let him go back to that place again. He was also trying to get to sleep without his head feeling like it's been hit by a sledgehammer.

"Yeah, but-"

"Lance. You're human, You feel what you feel. Don't feel like you have to keep everything down while everyone else brings theirs up." Keith said firmly. He refused to have Lance feel ashamed for breaking down. He may not have been with the team all that time due to him being with the Blades, but he already felt that Lance was the one who was going through the most shit on the ship and would most likely keep it to himself as to not annoy anyone. And Keith would be damned if he had him act the same now that they're back home.

The red paladin was speechless. He didn't expect the leader of Voltron to say something so profound and comforting, especially to him. And in all honesty, he felt as though he had said the words that he had hoped someone had said to him back in the castle when the latter had left and he was left to his own emotional devices.

"I guess you're right." Lance sighed, signaling the return of the original silence that plagued the room. A good ten minutes drifted by before Keith spoke.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to ask one question, and you totally have the right to not answer. Just wanted to let you know." Lance finally turned his head at Keith, intrigued and nervous at the statement. He gazed at Keith, whom was looking back at him, grasping his hands together firmly.

"What is it?" Keith took a breath before he dropped the bomb.

"What are you scared of?"

Lance's eyes widened in surprise. He had almost forgotten that him being scared caused him to not kiss Allura, but he had no idea that Keith was still dwelling on it. He knew it came from a place of genuine concern, which he was grateful for. But he really wished that he had left it alone so that he didn't have to go through those waves of thoughts and emotion again. The thoughts of not doing the one thing he's wanted to do for ages. The feeling of confusion and sheer relief when he didn't go through with kissing the princess. The guilt he felt in going for a kiss with someone when he already had someone else on his mind. And more importantly, the weird longing of the purple eyes that made his chest tight and his heart skip. The same eyes he was looking into now. Hesitatingly, he looked away from Keith as he connected his eyes with the ceiling once more.

"Everything."

#klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld keith #vld lance #vld #voltron #Voltron legendary defender #voltron s8 #voltron fanfic #klance fic #klance fanfic #klance void

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thedaveandkimmershow · 4 years ago

Photo

FRIDAY2SATURDAY DREAM

I’m looking at a 3D animation on a website. It’s an overhead view of an airport in Switzerland... and in this dream I’ve having I’m remembering this time Kimmer had to drop me off there while we were running late this one time and—

Well. It’s kind of a story.

In that story, though, we can’t find the entrance so she drops me off somewhere likely that turns out to be the other end of the airport where there’s nothing that looks remotely like an entrance.

So okay. Back to the part where I’m looking at a 3D animation, I catch Kimmer’s attention and point roughly to where I think she dropped me off. The lovely thing, it turns out, is that this airport is a thin rectangle with its long edge facing the airfield. And even though I entered the building at the complete opposite end from where I needed to be, it was an exact straight shot to the other end, take a left and you’re at security, take another left and it’s all boarding gates down to the far end.

Doesn’t get more simple than that.

Now...

Kimmer ‘n I have just cleared security and she remarks what a good thing it is that the airport’s not so big after all.

I agree.

There’s a lot of daylight outside the glass panes that line the entire side facing the airfield and, at some point, we’re standing next to a boarding gate, not sure if it’s in boarding mode or not. Directly opposite that gate is a bank of elevators.

For some reason, we head over to the elevators and hit an UP button while some other people walk up and hit the DOWN button.

Both elevators arrive at the same time and we enter.

What’s weird, though, is that passing through the doors it looks nothing like the inside of an elevator. Instead, we’ve passed into an open indoor space at least two stories tall and deep. It feels lovely, but confusing since we expected an elevator.

The elevator doors close behind us, though, and then a thin but pretty big square of floor on which we’re standing pulls up from the rest of the floor and begins to rise. The group of old women who were in the “elevator” next to us... same deal. But they’re going down.

They’ve down this before, however, so they’re not surprised. We, on the other hand, are taken completely by surprise so we instantly grab onto each other for safety, laughing at the absurdity of it after a few moments.

The elevator eventually comes to a stop and we exit a single narrow door that’s like the one at the base of our apartment building with stairs leading up to the parking lot. This one, even though the door’s kind of the same and the steps are kind of the same...

They lead to a rooftop garden under a nighttime sky.

Next to the door is a space for a garden fountain that’s not on right now. I tell Kimmer to hit the button on the wall next to the elevator door... but the button’s so small and at the bottom that she ends up hitting the Call button.

No biggie, though. The voice from the speaker grill comes softly and undisturbed.

I do notice at that moment how the elevator door is now a little wider, now green not brown, with a window looking into a room that’s lit with white florescents.

Eventually, Kimmer hits the right button, causing fountain water to flow and fountain lights to glow. It’s really quite a lovely scene as we take to the stairs and up to the rooftop garden space.

I’m not sure how long we’re there before Kimmer finds a photograph of a friend of ours. I walk back a few steps to a display case where there are a number of photographs honoring different people. Near the top, and not all that easy to see by the way, is a black and white photo of our friend Monica as a young woman in the 1970s.

Then, in what seems to be a completely different dream bearing no connection whatsoever, I’m in a story that’s a little like The Karate Kid but completely not. There are two teens or young adults who are fighting on a mat in a bright room. The mat’s a few feet above the floor and one of the kids is completely outmatched by the other. He’s taking a pretty good beating until he lets out a frustrated yell, charges the other guy, and tackles him to the mat near one of the edges.

At this point, Michael J. Fox walks up in a light beige suit, white dress shirt. Basically, he’s here to tag in. He’s outraged, you see, by the mismatch and is offering to tag in even though we all know he’s in no condition to do it.

Later at night, on a roof at a railing overlooking an open courtyard below, Michael J., myself, and Emma Watson, also dressed formally, are talking casually about what’s gonna happen next. Michael and I are standing along the short end of the railing. She’s standing halfway down the long side.

Then I’m telling Kimmer about this dream with Emma Watson and Michael J. Fox in it, only I can’t remember Emma Watson’s name until, finally, I do remember it. And then, some time later...

I wake up.

That was the first one of these, by the way. The first with such an odd construction. For example, there’s a back story that’s not actually part of the dream, only referenced with full knowledge of that story. There are back to back dreams that aren’t even connected in dreamspace. And I don’t ever remember explaining a dream to someone only that was a dream, too.

Also the feeling of space at the end before waking up was new.

My brain did, however, pull some things out of the real world. For example, that Swiss airport at the beginning?

Yeah. That wasn’t one of them. It doesn’t actually exist. I’ve never even been to Switzerland even though I’ve edited a number of TV shows about the country, none of which contained an airport that looked like that.

The call box scene, though, the one next to the elevator doors leading to the rooftop garden, was pulled from last night at a friend’s apartment building. No fountain... but definitely a call box and a bit of tussle with that call box.

And the actor’s name I was trying to remember last night was from that movie Bicentennial Man.

Oliver Platt.

#dreams #Switzerland #Michael J. Fox #Emma Watson #dream logic #REM sleep #Bicentennial Man #Oliver Platt

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shesclearlya3 · 5 years ago

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever P.3

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,649

warnings: language, torture, kidnapping, abuse, mentions of death/blood, canon(?) not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by Ben Platt’s song*

part 1 part 2 part 4

Xavier had asked you to stay behind while he went with Montana. You didn’t think anything of it when she said, ‘we’re supposed to be having fun.’ If anything, you figured it meant scaring off whoever decided to explore the grounds and whatnot. You sat back down, finishing off the rest of your water in peace. Your tears finally managed to subside.

It was nice to finally have a moment to yourself; you needed to calm down and reason for a second. The sunlight outside told you it was nearing seven PM. You lounged around, fearing the inevitable moment when you’d have to leave.

Xavier was stuck here, something you just couldn’t seem to shake. There had to be some sort of loophole, something that could save him, right? You laid there as the time slowly ticked by, your mind going to Xavier, your work shift tomorrow, the apartment he hasn’t stepped foot in for over a year-

You heard footsteps slowly approach you. You tensed up, sitting up and glancing behind you to find you were alone. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, it’s not surprising after the day you’ve had. You started to settle back in your seat, until a firm hand was placed over your mouth, another arm wrapping around your torso and yanking you up.

A few screams managed to bubble in your chest, all muffled by the hand. You heard a deep, almost husky chuckle in your ear.

“Do you take Satan as your lord and savior?” he grumbled to you, his hand leaving your mouth to hear your answer, or so you thought.

“W-what?”

He never answered. Instead, you felt a tremendous pain on the back of your head before you blacked out for a second time.

Montana watched as blood gushed from the neck of the poor souls who decided to trek into their territory. The looks of fear on their faces slowly diminished as the life drained out of them. Ray watched from a slight distance, disgusted at what his friend- or former friend, has become. Chet was nowhere to be found, and Xavier just stood there, a smirk on his face as Montana stood up, a bloody dagger in her hand.

“Are you done?” Ray asked them both, crossing his arms over his chest. Montana gave the female a kick in the leg, and when there was no response, her grin got bigger.

“For now, until the next one comes along,” she laughed. Xavier, who was usually pretty into this, only smiled. He could only think of you in the cabin, waiting for him to return. Montana didn’t seem to notice her partner in crime’s mind was elsewhere and went to wrap her arm around him.

“This is wrong, these people had a family!” Ray said.

Montana scoffed, “Yeah, so did the kid you murdered a few years ago, you ever tell them where his body was?” She smirked, realizing immediately she struck a nerve.

Ray was desperately resisting the urge to lunge at her, but other things stopped him. First, he never hit a woman. Second, Chet placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

"Are we done here?“ Xavier asked impatiently.

"What, have a hot date with y/n?” Montana teased, a look of hurt briefly flashing in her eyes before it disappeared.

"She’s been by herself long enough, I want to see her,“ Xavier said, shaking her arm from his shoulder. The other three watched him jog off to the cabins, not bothering to give them, or the dead bodies a second glance.

"Man, he is whipped!” Chet laughed. Ray smiled, and they high-fived, mumbling obscene things under their breath.

“It’s nice to see you two made up!” Montana said, her voice genuine.

"We’re dead, and there was nothing else to do,“ Chet shrugged, "Plus, I’d rather spend my energy pissed at that bitch Margaret than any of you,"

Xavier had a bad feeling as he approached the cabin you were left in. There was nothing abnormal on the outside, everything looked just as they left it. When he slowly climbed the stairs, that’s when it hit him.

ghostly intuition

Xavier slowly pushed open the door and peeked his head inside. It was empty.

Xavier stepped in fully, frantically looking around, hoping you were being playful and just decided to hide. He looked under the empty cots, the dusty curtains, only to come up with nothing. He was scared, he knew you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

"Y/N!” he called, now running down the steps. The others had already started making their way back, pausing their laughter at the sound of his frantic voice.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Ray asked, noting Xavier’s blue eyes were glossy.

“I-I can’t find y/n,” he admitted, his lower lip trembling.

“I’m sure she is just exploring, she couldn’t have gotten far,” Chet said. He wasn’t always the best at comforting people, but he tried his best.

“Chet’s right, we’ll look for her,” Montana said, her eyes attempting to find Xavier’s, but he wouldn’t look at her. She was irritated at your arrival, any plan of fucking Xavier out the window as long as you were around. He said you were just friends, but she knew better. Now that Richard left her, she needed a good dick down.��

They all took turns calling your name, Chet having to be corrected a few times. Their efforts seemed futile as the setting sun wasn’t helping the search, they had flashlights somewhere, but Xavier didn’t want to waste more time.

You came to with a pounding headache. Your body instinctively went to stretch but found your legs and arms were both bound. Your eyes flew open, observing your surroundings; you were in a dark room, tied up, and it was sweltering. You went to speak but found there was tape over your mouth.

Xavier, help me!

A dark chuckle startled you out of your wits. A shadowy figure slowly stood up; you could tell he was probably wearing a jacket based on his form. He approached your bed in just a few steps, and the man tilted his head at you as a lamp seemed to magically turn on next to you.

“You never answered my question, precious,” he sneered. Had he not kidnapped you, you would probably find him rather attractive. He had dark hair that fell over his face and intimidating brown eyes. “I guess it’s kind of hard when you’re bound and gagged."

Your body was shaking with tremors as you attempted to yank your arms from their confines. You knew there was no use; this guy had to be experienced, just by glancing at the knots keeping your feet tethered to the bed.

"I don’t usually do this here, I like finding my victims in more intimate places,” he sighed, bringing a hand to your cheek. You flinched away from him, your head only moving so far. “Like their beds, or the bathrooms in their house, that kind of thing.” You didn’t make a noise.

“And then I saw you, y/n, and I realized the best ones aren’t always vulnerable in their own space,” your eyes were prickling with tears, quite a few spilling out now that your body had a proper water supply. “Satan told me to go after you, and he has never steered me wrong before,”

The man standing in front of you suddenly ripped the tape from your mouth. You yelled in pain as some of the dead skin came off with it, your mouth chapping earlier in the day. He mocked your cries, bunching the tape in his hands before tossing it somewhere in the room.

“I like to keep count, you know?” he laughed at your distress. “After I’m done with you, you’ll be the fifteenth victim of the Night Stalker!”

Your eyes widened, realizing who he was. You heard about him in the news; all of the terror he caused Los Angeles and then San Francisco. Innocent women brutally murdered and raped, then left for their loved ones to find. You knew life didn’t always go the way you planned, and you surely didn’t expect to be at the hands of Richard Ramirez.

Out of all the things to say, you questioned, “How do you know my name?”

Richard rolled his eyes, a habit he picked up from Montana Duke. “I was here the night shit down with Mr. Jingles,” he laughed at the look on your face. “I saw your friend, Xavier, kick the bucket. It was fun to watch, the way the light just drained from his eyes!” he said, figuring mental torture would be best to start with. “One might say he died a hero’s death, trying to save that bible thumper, Margaret,”

This is the last thing you wanted to hear. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that if you did it hard enough, your ears would block out his voice. Richard knew what you were doing and was not having it. He raised a fist and brought it down on your nose, the sickening crack filling the room and making you howl. The smell and feel of blood trickling down your chin and onto your shirt were unmistakable.

“XAVIER!” you screamed, which only made Richard cackle at your expense.

“Nobody is coming to save you, precious!” he said, kneeling down, raising his voice. “Especially not Xavier, he isn’t as innocent as you think he is,” he said, clamping a hand over your mouth. He liked hearing his victims cry in pain, but Richard wasn’t sure they wouldn't hear you. He wanted to be confident in his work.

“After I kill you-” Richard said, now climbing over your body as you wrestled against him. For being bound, he was almost impressed at your drive to knock him off you.

He grabbed your now broken nose, squeezing it. A mixture of your tears and blood rolled onto the cot, causing you to gasp in pain. “I’ll make sure you die outside the gate, that way you can’t be reunited with your little boy toy,"

There was a looming threat now over the camp that all four ghosts could feel. They approached the last building, knowing if you weren’t in here, there was nothing that could be done. They saw your car still parked outside the gate, knowledge of Xavier, who recognized it with no question.

"She has to be here,” Montana said. “I can sense it.”

“There’s someone else here, too,” Chet said, “I can feel it, it’s really-”

“-dark,” Ray finished.

Xavier went and peeked in one of the windows, seeing nothing. They went to the door, finding it was locked. It was too weird, as they all tried to unlock it themselves. It wouldn’t budge.

“Y/N!” Xavier called, roughly banging on the door with a closed fist. Chet and Ray scaled the cabin, seeing some of the windows were still covered from last Summer.

“Who is y/n?”

They looked to see Trevor bounding towards them, his junk almost peeking from his shorts. The three boys avoided looking at him, but Montana was having a blast.

“Xavier’s girlfriend!” Chet smirked.

Trevor gasped, looking at his friend, who was still visibly panicked, “Congrats, man!”

Xavier didn’t bother to correct him; you’d be his girlfriend now, he didn’t care. He NEEDED you back.

“Where is she?” Trevor asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, we can’t find her anywhere,” Ray shrugged.

“She’s in here, I know it!” Xavier exclaimed, once again beating on the door to no avail.

“Is y/n another ghost I don’t know about? I saw Bertie earlier, she lost her lighter and is very upset-”

“- she’s still alive, a little too jumpy if you ask me-” Montana butted in.

The now group of five instantly froze at the bloodcurdling scream coming from inside the cabin. It was something they never heard before, even after the number of people Montana killed over the past year.

“Y/N!” Xavier screamed, his voice cracking. Ray and Chet both tried the lock again, but it wouldn’t open. Montana stood back, her eyes wide, and for once, she was scared.

“Move! Move!” Trevor said, nudging the three boys away from the door. “This door versus my GUNS!” he said, yelling as he ran full speed towards the locked door, making it look easy as the wood splintered open, sending him flying and landing on the floor. The others scrambled after him, hearing your begging behind another door.

“XAVIER! SOMEONE-” your voice became muffled as if someone were suffocating you.

Xavier went to the door, relieved when the door opened with ease. He froze at the scene before him.

A man was kneeling over you, a blade in his hands. Your jeans were ruined and cut, on the ground beside the bed. The man didn’t stop, despite hearing what was going on on the outside.

Xavier lunged forward, tackling the man as they both plummeted to the floor. Your attacker laughed as if it were a game, attempting to uppercut Xavier, but missed as Xavier was yanked off of him. Chet and Trevor both grabbed Richard, hauling him up as if he were weightless.

Montana ran to you and covered you up with an old blanket, hiding your cut up legs and intimate parts as you cried. Ray started to untie you, finding that his eyes were prickling with tears.

Xavier kneeled beside your head, cradling it as you sobbed in relief. They all saved you, even the mystery guy with a pornstache who helped Chet in 'escorting’ Richard outside. Yet, the pain you felt in your nose, and now down there still factored in.

“What do we do!?” Montana asked in a panic. Despite her dislike for your relationship with Xavier, none of them could leave to drive you to a hospital. The phone lines wouldn’t work either, and nobody seemed to notice the lamp still on beside you. She was scared.

Your cries calmed somewhat as Xavier continued to cradle your head while Ray finally freed you. You fell limp into Xavier’s arms, his purple tank now drenched with your blood. Chet came running in, explaining Trevor got 'rid’ of him. None of them were nurses, they didn’t know what to do.

However, that didn’t stop them from trying.

Xavier stayed with you as they scattered, gathering supplies to aid your wounds and get you cleaned up. He was guilt-stricken, knowing he should have stayed with you. Montana even felt remorse as she gave you a final look before she ran after the others.

“Did he?…” Xavier couldn’t even finish, but you knew what he meant.

“No, but I’m sure he would have if you guys didn’t save me,” you mumbled, ignoring the searing pain in your nose. Xavier pressed kisses to your forehead, wishing he was powerful enough to heal you himself. You were dizzy, your skin becoming clammy.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said brokenly. You reached with a shaky hand to grip his, threading your fingers together.

“It’s not your fault,” you tried to reason with him.

“I left you alone, I-I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry for dying, I’m sorry for abandoning you- I love you, y/n. I’m so in love with you, you deserved the world, you deserved better than me.”

You were shocked. Your body tensed up after Xavier’s admission to you, but neither of you realized it was because of the trauma you had just experienced. Xavier continued to weep, mumbling things you now could not catch.

Your adrenaline had shot up once Richard really attacked you. You always heard that dying of fright was a myth, and it was, you knew that. You just never realized an unhealthy amount of adrenaline could cause someone to die.

When you unexpectedly took your last breath, Xavier was still confessing his undying love to you.

taglist: @thexmancometh @the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman

*if I missed anyone, please let me know! if you want to be added to my taglist, you know the drill. only two parts left!*

#cody fern #xavier plympton #ahs 1984 #michael langdon #jim mason #duncan shepherd #jim mason x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #xavier plympton x reader #michael langdon x reader

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nyc-uws · 4 years ago

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Friends

My new old friend. An odd formulation. And yet….

The Hedgehog Review Wilfred M. McClay

I hadn’t ever considered the matter until a few years ago, when I heard a dreamy little number by the jazz pianist Alan Pasqua called “My New Old Friend.” It’s a strictly instrumental affair, a subdued and contemplative piano trio, full of subtle unresolved suspensions and wafting dissonances, conveying a late-night mood of solitary and slightly bittersweet remembrance—one of those moments of quiet grace when the passage of time slows to a crawl, past and present seem to intermingle, and joy and sorrow become hard to tell apart.

But it was the song’s title that captured my attention, even more than the music itself. My new old friend. An odd formulation. But one I’d been looking for, without even knowing it.

It’s not obvious to me why I should have been looking. In a different moment, I would have been far more likely to react against the phrase, striking it down with a reflex of indignant linguistic puritanism. After all, the noble term friend has already been so diluted and cheapened in our times, like so many of our most important words of personal and social connection, that it has become like the Platte River, a mile wide and an inch deep. Such cheapening has occurred not only in our personal usage but in public discourse. When Abraham Lincoln concluded his First Inaugural Address with a heartfelt plea to the seceding Southern states to recall that “we are not enemies, but friends,” the word had great emotive power, describing the very bonds of public affection that were being sundered. Such earnest usage has all but disappeared. Friend as we now use it embraces a particularly large portfolio of evasions and line-blurring maneuvers, especially useful in the hands of diffident teenagers, as in this familiar exchange: Mother: “Who was that on the phone?” Daughter: “A friend.”

As this example illustrates, friend can designate anything from a mysterious or otherwise uncategorizable love interest to a study-group classmate to a business associate to a helpful neighbor to the “friends” who accumulate on people’s social media accounts, where they are as plentiful and enduring as the daily harvest of low-tide sea shells on a beach. The television series Friends (1994–2004) became one of the most successful sitcoms in TV history by depicting a collection of very attractive twenty- and thirtysomethings “hanging out” together as a kind of quasi-family, a light and frothy fantasy that transposed the social life of the college dorm to not-quite-adult life in implausibly toney Manhattan apartments. For its characters, friendship was that relatively flexible and easygoing state of social relations before the hardening categories of adulthood come along.

This resonated with American audiences, including aging boomers who were nostalgic for the friendships of their college days. But when we’re confronted with the far profounder ideas about friendship put forward by Aristotle, the greatest of all writers on the subject, or by C.S. Lewis in his splendid account in The Four Loves, we tend to be nonplussed. Such heights seem beyond us. For Lewis, Friends would have to be considered a show about companions, not friends, since friendship is something weightier and inherently exclusive. In this, Lewis was in tune with the earlier observations of Aristotle: “Great friendship too can only be felt towards a few people…. One cannot have with many people the friendship based on virtue and on the character of our friends themselves, and we must be content if we find even a few such.” Far from being something breezy and easy, like a glass of sparkling spring wine, friendship in the fullest sense is a rare and precious thing, much more like an old single-malt Scotch.

As I’ve said, the Platte River principle has come to apply to many of our words of human connection, perhaps partly reflecting the automatic generosity of the democratic spirit, and also the way we employ the language of false personalization in our speech, routinely appropriating the most charged words in doing so. Some of this is vaguely sinister, as when corporate bosses try to persuade us to think of ourselves as part of “the Sprocket Corporation family,” especially at times when the budget needs cutting. Community is a word that comes in for similar abuse, and has been almost emptied of meaning in this respect, standing for any aggregation that it is politically or financially useful to treat as an aggregate. Here, as in the use of the language of family and almost any other affective term, Silicon Valley has led the way to perdition.

So you can see why I would be initially averse to the idea of “new old friends,” which might sound at first like more linguistic inflation, the equivalent of preripped jeans or “distressed” furniture, something new that is made out to look old, and thus is doubly phony. To make matters worse, as my old friends can readily confirm, I have for years been prone to saying, in an earnest imitation of Shakespeare’s Polonius, that “you can always make new friends, but you can never make new old friends.” And it’s true. There is something irreplaceably special about the people who have been down the road with you—those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried—and whose friendship has endured through the sheer passage of years, through the steady artillery of time, even if such friendships lack the lively intensity of newer ones. People who “knew you when” can never be replaced, and a wise person will not seek to do so.

But such friendships have their limitations. For one thing, it’s not always helpful to be reminded constantly of who you were “then.” Life does move on. And there is also something very true in the Simon and Garfunkel song “Old Friends,” about the two men who “Sat on their park bench like bookends…. / Winter companions… / Lost in their overcoats / Waiting for the sunset…. / Memory brushes the same years / Silently sharing the same fear.” There is a bond being described, if an unutterably sad and resigned one. It is an existential bond of the deepest and most universal sort. But there are some respects in which this “old friendship” falls short of the fullness of friendship as Aristotle and Lewis describe it.

And here I come to the heart of the matter: There is no denying the phenomenon of a new old friend. I have acquired a couple of them in recent years, people with whom I have found a near-instant bond whose depth is hard to explain, whose friendship feels as old and rooted as an ancient sequoia, even though I know it is as new as a sapling. Moving about in such friendships, I’m wary at first, thinking they may be too good to be true, fearing to trust too much in the sensation of oldness, fearing, much as one fears when living in a foreign culture, that my habitual ways of being will suddenly be misperceived or strike the wrong note. There is something deeply mysterious about such friendships, and mystery induces caution, as well as awe.

But perhaps the mystery has to do with the mystery of friendship itself. Lewis remarks that what finally hold us together as friends are not the “unconcerning things,” facts of biography and shared experiences. Of course, one brings the residue of all such things to the activity of friendship. But the friendship itself stands apart from such things. It concerns itself, Lewis argues, with nothing less than a shared quest for the truth about things. In the very act of sharing in this one thing, friends gain access to an astonishing degree of freedom. “In a circle of true Friends,” Lewis insists, “each man is simply what he is: stands for nothing but himself”:

That is the kingliness of Friendship. We meet like sovereign princes of independent states, abroad, on neutral ground, freed from our contexts. This love (essentially) ignores not only our physical bodies but that whole embodiment which consists of our family, job, past and connections.

Friendship represents a rare kind of freedom, an “exquisite arbitrariness and irresponsibility,” as Lewis puts it, precisely because it liberates us into a way of being fully human that rises above all the desiderata and conditioning factors that otherwise impinge upon us, the very factors that form what we are now accustomed to call our “identity.” But why shouldn’t an entirely new friendship have that power, as much as an old one has? Or perhaps…even more, since it is no longer the facts, but rather the search, the quest, that the new old friends share?

Lewis was not alone in connecting the disinterested love of truth and goodness with the highest forms of friendship. “The real community of man,” wrote Allan Bloom in The Closing of the American Mind, “in the midst of all the self-contradictory simulacra of community, is the community of those who seek the truth, of the potential knowers, that is, in principle, of all men to the extent they desire to know.” Bloom, too, understood that the quest for truth is what unites us most deeply and most reliably. The greatness of the Great Books, in his view, was their ability to lift our minds and thoughts out of the realm of contingency and “fact,” into a realm higher and more essential, more conducive to the flourishing of friendship—not as a goal of the quest, but as a byproduct of it.

Maybe this way of phrasing it will sound too specific to the academic world. And not everyone has the time or inclination to reread Plato’s Republic every few months (preferably in Greek). But the larger truth, that the deepest friendship can take root in the sparsest biographical soil if some high and shared animating spirit is present, seems right. I’m guessing that’s how we make new old friends. Though in the end, it is a mystery.

Wilfred M. McClay is G.T. and Libby Blankenship Chair in the History of Liberty and director of the Center for the History of Liberty at the University of Oklahoma. His latest book is Land of Hope: An Invitation to the Great American Story (2019).

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/friends

#Friends

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hennyjolzen · 5 years ago

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Bridget Bate Tichenor (born Bridget Pamela Arkwright Bate) (November 22, 1917 – October 20, 1990), also known as Bridget Tichenor or B.B.T., was a Mexican surrealist painter of fantastic art in the school of magic realism and a fashion editor. Born in Paris and of British descent, she later embraced Mexico as her home.[1]

Bate was the daughter of Frederick Blantford Bate (c. 1886–1970) and Vera Nina Arkwright (1883–1948), who was also known as Vera Bate Lombardi. Although born in France, she spent her youth in England and attended schools in England, France, and Italy. She moved to Paris at age 16, to live with her mother, where she worked as a model for Coco Chanel.[2] She lived between Rome and Paris from 1930 until 1938.

Fred Bate carefully guided his daughter with her art. He recommended she attend the Slade School in London, and visited her later at the Contembo Ranch in Mexico. Fred Bate's close friend, surrealist photographer Man Ray, photographed her at different stages of her modeling career from Paris to New York.[3][4]

Vera Bate Lombardi is said to have been the public relations liaison to the royal families of Europe for Coco Chanel between 1925 and 1938.[2] Her grandmother, Rosa Frederica Baring (1854–1927) was a member of the Baring banking family, being a great-granddaughter of Sir Francis Baring (1740–1810), the founder of Barings Bank, and Bridget Bate was therefore related to many British and European aristocratic families.[5]

Bate married Hugh Joseph Chisholm at the Chisholm family home, Strathgrass in Port Chester, New York on October 14, 1939.[6] It was an arranged marriage, devised by her mother Vera through Cole Porter and his wife Linda's introduction, in order to remove Bate from Europe and the looming threat of the World War II.[7] They had a son in Beverly Hills, California on December 21, 1940 named Jeremy Chisholm.[8] H. Jeremy Chisholm was a noted businessman and equestrian in the US, United Kingdom and Europe, who was married to Jeanne Vallely-Lang Suydam and father to James Lang-Suydam Chisholm when he died in Boston in 1982.[9]

In 1943, Bate was a student at the Art Students League of New York and studying under Reginald Marsh along with her friends, the painters Paul Cadmus and George Tooker.[10] Acquaintances have described Bate during this time as "striking",[11] "glamorous",[10] and a "long-stemmed beauty with large azure eyes and sumptuous black hair".[12] She lived in an apartment at the Plaza Hotel and wore clothes by Manhattan couturier Hattie Carnegie.[13] It was around this time that the author Anaïs Nin wrote about her infatuation with Bate in her personal diary.[14][15] Bate was at a party in the Park Avenue apartment of photographer George Platt Lynes, a friend who used her as a subject in his photographs, when she met Lynes' assistant, Jonathan Tichenor, in 1943.[13] They started an affair in 1944 when her husband was away and working overseas for the US government. She divorced Chisholm on December 11, 1944 and moved into an Upper East Sidetownhouse in Manhattan that she shared with art patron Peggy Guggenheim.[16] She married Jonathan Tichenor in 1945, taking his last name to become known as Bridget Bate Tichenor, and they moved into an artist's studio at 105 MacDougal Street in Manhattan.[16]

Bate Tichenor's painting technique was based upon 16th-century Italian tempera formulas that artist Paul Cadmus taught her in New York in 1945, where she would prepare an eggshell-finished gesso ground on masonite board and apply (instead of tempera) multiple transparent oil glazes defined through chiaroscurowith sometimes one hair of a #00 sable brush.[14] Bate Tichenor considered her work to be of a spiritual nature, reflecting ancient occult religions, magic, alchemy, and Mesoamerican mythology in her Italian Renaissance style of painting.[17]

The cultures of Mesoamerica and her international background would influence the style and themes of Bate Tichenor's work as a magic realist painter in Mexico.[18] She was among a group of surrealist and magic realist female artists who came to live in Mexico in the late 1940s and early 1950s.[7] Her introduction to Mexico was through a cousin she had first met in Paris in the 1930s: Edward James, the British surrealist art collector and sponsor of the magazine Minotaure. James lived in Las Pozas, San Luis Potosí, and his home in Mexico had an enormous surrealist sculpture garden with natural waterfalls, pools and surrealist sculptures in concrete.[19] In 1947, James invited her to visit him again at his home Xilitia, near Tampico in the rich Black Olmec culture of the Gulf Coast. He had urged her for many years to receive secret spiritual initiations that he had undergone, and a lifetime change and new artistic direction resulted from her epiphanies during this trip.[11] After visiting Mexico, Bate Tichenor obtained a divorce in 1953 from her second husband, Jonathan Tichenor, and moved to Mexico in the same year, where she made her permanent home and lived for the rest of her life.[14] She left her marriage and job as a professional fashion and accessories editor for Vogue[12] behind and was now alongside expatriate painters such as Leonora Carrington, Remedios Varo, Alice Rahon, and photographer Kati Horna.[1]

Having lived in varied European and American cultures with multiple identities reflecting her life passages, Bate Tichenor recognized the Pre-Columbian cycles of creation, destruction, and resurrection that echoed the events of the catastrophes of her own life mounted within the dismantling and reconstructive context of two World Wars.[14] The openness of Mexico at that time fueled her personal expectations of a future filled with endless artistic inspiration in a truly new world founded upon metaphysics, where a movement of societal, political, and spiritual ideals were being immortalized in the arts.[14]

At the time of Bate Tichenor's move to Mexico in 1953, she began what would become a lifetime journey through her art and mysticism, inspired by her belief in ancestral spirits, to achieve self-realization.[14] While painting alone and in isolation, she removed her familiar and societal masks to find her own personal human and spiritual identities; she would then reposition those hidden identities with new masks and characters in her paintings that represented her own sacred beliefs and truths.[14] This guarded internal process of self-discovery and fulfillment was allegorically portrayed with a cast of mythological characters engaged in magical settings. She painted a dramatization of her own life and quests on canvas through an expressive visual language and an artistic vocabulary that she kept secret.[14]

In 1958, she participated in the First Salon of Women's Art at the Galerías Excelsior of Mexico, together with Carrington, Rahon, Varo, and other contemporarywomen painters of her era.[20] That same year, she bought the Contembo ranch near the remote village of Ario de Rosales, Michoacán where she painted reclusively with her extensive menagerie of pets until 1978.[7]

Bate Tichenor counted painters Carrington, Alan Glass, Zachary Selig and artist Pedro Friedeberg among her closest friends and artistic contemporaries in Mexico.[21]

Between 1982 and 1984, Bate Tichenor lived in Rome and painted a series of paintings titled Masks, Spiritual Guides, and Dual Deities.[14] Her final years were spent at her home in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico.[14]

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