will you come back to me?
always.
✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
jay halstead's life turns upside down when a case reunites him with the one that got away.
✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
chicago pd | jay halstead
...
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Jay brings the bottle to his lips, taking another long sip of his beer. The voices of his friends are just white noise, his mind replaying the day's earlier events over and over again. The pain on Mia's face, the fear in her eyes, and the anger in her voice... The memory is burned into his brain, and he can't stop thinking about it. Add to that the amount of worry he feels for her safety, and there is no way he'll be sleeping tonight.
When he feels his phone vibrating, he pulls it from his pocket, and his heart stops at the name on the screen. Hope floods through his veins at the thought that maybe she's changed her mind about going into protective custody, and he sets his beer down. Wanting to escape the noise of the crowded bar, Jay ignores the questioning glances of his teammates and stands, hurrying to make it outside before the call stops ringing. The cool night air hits him hard as he emerges onto the sidewalk, answering the phone just in time. "Mia?" he breathes out.
"Jay."
His brows furrow, instantly picking up on the panic in her raspy voice. Jay's heart starts racing, pounding heavily against his chest, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Jay, I think someone's in my house. I don't—I don't know what to do," her words come out fast, voice barely above a whisper and laced with fear.
His entire body stiffens before he reacts on instinct, breaking out into a run towards his car that is thankfully parked just across the street. "Okay, just breathe," Jay tries to sound as calm and soothing as possible, which is difficult considering the rush of pure terror through his body. "Where are you?"
All he hears for a few seconds as he climbs into the car are her heavy breaths before she responds, "I—I locked myself in the bathroom."
"Okay," he puts his phone on speaker before setting it into the cup holder, turning his keys in the ignition and starting his truck. "Just stay there and stay quiet, okay? I'm sending a unit to your house, and I'm on my way. Just stay calm. Everything's gonna be fine."
"Jay, please hurry! My phone is gonna—" her voice cuts off with a loud beep.
"Mia," he calls out with no answer, "Mia!" Realizing that her phone must have died, his grip tightens around the steering wheel before he reaches his other hand to flick on the emergency lights and sirens. He grabs his radio, "5021 George to main."
The radio crackles before a voice comes through, "Go ahead, 5021 George."
"I need back-up at 1242 North Astor Street for a possible 10-62."
