Tolerance Book II

Chapter Seventy-One: Oversight

Within moments the thunderous roar became a memory as everything in Jays' vision became tinted in red. Kings' maniacal laughter invited a reaction but for once Jay Halstead, Abuse Survivor/Detective/Ex-Sniper/Ex-Ranger found himself wanting. His usually unerring instincts, which had served him so well throughout his life, had abandoned him. He had been so sure the act of surrendering his weapon would draw Kings' full attention to him that he was confident it would take Will out of the equation. It had done that but not in the way he had envisaged! Unwilling to meet the taunting mans' gaze the stunned Detective reluctantly directed his eyes downward to where his brothers' bloodied head signalled the end of life as he knew it. The grim sight hastened realities' harsh truth. The cold seeping into Jays' heart would never be erased. He had caused his brothers' death ...

Bucktown

Al had been mulling over the unexpected missive delivered on behalf of Halstead Senior. It rankled the seasoned Detective that even from the grave the elder Halstead was still able to hurt his young friend. Of course he was a realist and knew the harm so casually inflicted on Jay by his old man would remain with the young Detective until the day he died. This latest twist however compounded the harm and the rage within Al sought release as he flung his pen at the wall in disgust.

"Thought Ruzek was the one I needed to worry about damaging this place," Voigh sardonically announced his arrival as he walked in and picked up the pen before inspecting the wall.
"Hell Hank!"
"We"ll get him through this," the Sergeant didn't need an explanation for his friends' ire.
"Even dead that b×××××d is causing grief!"
"Least he is six feet under, there's that ...,"
"Good thing or I'd put him there!"
"Nah ... you wouldn't."
"Oh?"
"We both know you'd never hurt the Kid," Voight shrugged knowingly, besides this wasn't the first time they had this particular conversation.
'So about King, you think he's ready for a showdown?"
"I do. The fact his brother is dead has changed his plans obviously. If we play our cards right and have a bit of luck it ...,"
"Not like you to be relying on luck my friend," Al pointed out candidly.
"The way this investigation has been going I'll take all the help I can get," Voight admitted to the one person he would allow see his doubts and worries.
"It's been going on a long time," Al conceded.
"You ever wonder why good people like Halstead get more than their fair share of hurt?"
"Sure but we both know there's no answer and it's out of our control. Hell this job, what we do, teaches us every day how little control we ultimately have. Fate has its' own agenda irrespective of any plans we might have."
"You don't let fate dictate to you."
"Nope," the moustached man readily agreed before continuing with a shrug, "I do what I think is right in any given situation and after that it's out of my hands. Fate is going to do what fate is going to do."
"One of these days fate is going to take someone."
"You can say that no matter what line of work you're in."
"Our line of work means it's more likely, " Voight countered.
"We all know the risks and accept them but worrying about what might happen won't change anything Hank."
"You're right. I just have to do the best I can to mind the team."
"You always do my friend, you always do."

Voight Residence

Trying to tear his gaze from a sight he was sure had been branded into his memory a familiar voice in the distance caught Jays' attention. Frowning he closed his eyes and shook his head only to realis he was lying down. He couldn't remember falling but then was more confused as the carpet felt soft as it embraced his body ...... no that didn't make sense. Raising an eyebrow he ventured opening one eye to try to gauge what was happening as a voice spoke from above him.

"Was beginning to think you were never going to wake up!"
"Antonio!" both eyes now wide open the shaken man sat up on the bed, yes he remembered now he had lain down for a while, and eyed his very much alive companion in awe.
"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," the Italian-American observed with concern as he sat down on the side of the bed, his friend looked like death warmed over!
"I thought ..... I thought you were ..... dead. King .... killed you ....,"
"Hardly surprising you're having nightmares. You got a lot going on. So what else happened in your dream?"
"Doesn't matter," Jay dismissed, angry at himself for disclosing that much.
"We all have nightmares at some point," Antonio tried to console the obviously shaken man.
"Do me a favour and don't tell the others," Jay was finally getting over the remnants of the oh so real nightmare and his brain cells were coming back online, "I need your word."
"Talking about it might help," the older man suggested.
"Please?"
"Okay, okay. This stays between us but you need to talk I'm around anytime day or night."