Nemo Resideo

Part II

Dinner with the Corsons flooded Jay with a feeling of nostalgia. The lighthearted banter and soft laughter reminded him of the many evenings spent here in his youth, and as they shared stories about Ben's shenanigans, it almost felt like the boy was here with them, so much so that he almost forgot that he wasn't. Halstead let the fond and loving reminiscing wash over him for a moment. When he closed his eyes, it was so easy to imagine the child sitting in the chair right across from him, swinging his legs under the table, and he could almost feel the sock-clad feet kicking his shin to get his attention. He'd always pretended to be annoyed by it, even though he never really had been – something that the little rascal had known all too well.

A sad smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and tears pricked behind Jay's, but he blinked them away. He glanced at the framed photo on the wall behind the vacant seat instead, which had the dark blonde eight-year-old in it, a cheeky grin plastered on his face that proudly showed a huge gap where both his front teeth were missing. A picture so different from the image that still haunted his dreams. Ben had always been such a ray of sunshine, his presence lighting up the room everywhere he went. Always eager to tell everyone about the awesome adventures of his day, interlarded with the dorkiest and most mind-boggling details that had always filled the former ranger's heart with endless joy and brotherly affection.

God, he missed the little goofball. If it hadn't been for that kid, he would never have made it all the way back home after his second tour. Sure, each member of the family had helped him readjust to civilian life in one way or another, had dragged him out of that dark pit he'd been in. But Ben... Ben had been the one to remind him what it meant to live and laugh again. Only to...

Jay shook his head. No, he didn't want to go down that ugly road again, didn't want to remember the unpleasant memories of his time as a ranger, and he particularly didn't want to remember his cruel first months on the job. He pushed them to the back of his mind and tuned back into the conversation that took place in the here and now, just in time to hear the tail end of a statement that was apparently addressed to him. He hadn't caught the first half of it, but it turned out he didn't have to; the generous second helping landing on his plate said it all. Gaping at the food, he politely tried to decline. "Gail, I'm full," he laughed, but another overflowing spaghetti scoop had already joined the first. Jay could only stare at the large portion, wondering how he was supposed to eat up when he'd barely even managed to finish the first serving.

Unfazed by his comment, Mrs. Corson argued, "you look like you're wasting away." She'd never been one to lose an opportunity to let the detective know that she thought he was too thin and not eating enough, had made it her mission to remind him since he was fifteen. Jay recalled all too well how she had snuck containers full of leftovers into his backpack every single time he'd been over, thinking he wouldn't notice before he got home. What she didn't know: he had noticed, just never had the heart to tell her that she was busted. Well, he'd admittedly been scrawny as a teenager. On top of that, he'd been a terrible eater, often neglecting or skipping meals when things were rough at home, especially by the time his mom had fallen ill.

So, who could blame her? Her attempt to feed him up hadn't been by chance but rather well-founded; after all, she had just been looking out for him. Danny knew it too, thus, when he contributed to the conversation with a blithe, "you can't tell this woman no, Jay. You should have learned that by now," he couldn't help but join in his amused chuckles. Not just because it was true what he said, but also because this was the first time in a long time that he saw the older man truly relaxed, carefree even, and so heartwarming to witness it.