scripted reality (jay halstead / upstead / one chicago (cast))

chapter 8

I got in on the passenger side of my truck since I didn't feel like fighting Tracy over who was going to drive again. After all, she had a point when she said she didn't want me behind the wheel today, and to be honest, I didn't mind the break either.

"Why'd you back me in there?" I asked once we pulled out of the district parking lot. Tracy and I were great friends, but she wouldn't usually give me the satisfaction of agreeing with what I said. On the other hand, our current situation was everything but usual.

Tracy chuckled. "Believe it or not, because you were right." She shrugged. "I mean I did almost get shot. That guy could have killed me if you didn't..." She stopped mid-sentence, realizing that it might be best not to bring that up. "Fact is, we went in there without backup," she continued instead. "And you're right, we can't pretend we're the real police and keep going like that until something goes wrong, or until someone gets shot. If we're gonna do this, then we at least need patrol to help us out."

I looked over at her. It was good to know Tracy was still supporting me, because ever since this started, I felt like most of my friends were going against me most of the time, which made me question whether I was actually acting rationally at all. Tracy turned towards me as she stopped at a red light. "Besides..." She sent me a sad smile. "You do realize you saved my life in there, right?"

I nodded hesitantly. Saved her life. I mean, I guess I did. It sounded weird though, completely surreal even. We were just actors. Usually, we fooled around on set. We were shown exactly how to place our feet, how to move, how to hold our weapons in every single scene. We didn't save anybody's life. "Yeah," I said. "It was just... Instinct." Although that didn't make sense. "See." Tracy chuckled. "That's why I trust you on this." Her smile made me smile as well. As long as she was by my side, I knew we were going to figure this out somehow.

When we arrived at Med, I put my badge around my neck, knowing it was what we would normally do for a scene here. Tracy followed my example. Inside, we ran into Torrey. "Hey," she greeted, looking between Tracy and me. She seemed quite stressed out. "You alright?" I questioned. Torrey shrugged, giving me a slightly irritated look. "People want me to treat patients. Besides, I suddenly have a little kid at home that thinks I'm his mother and needs to be taken care of. What do you think, Jesse?"

I put my hands up in defence. Why did people at Med seem to think they were the only ones with problems? Torrey rolled her eyes at me. "Anyway, Nick told me you guys were trying to figure this out. You got anything yet?"

I glanced over at Tracy for a split second before I answered. "We're trying, but it's not easy," I confessed. It was pretty much the same I had told Nick not too long ago. There was nothing else I could have said. To be honest, I wasn't even sure if trying was of any use after all. There was nothing besides our own memory hinting at the fact that we weren't who everybody thought we were. There was nothing besides our own memory implying that we were actors.

"Well, you should try harder then," Torrey remarked. She pushed past Tracy and me to get back to work. After she was gone, I stayed silent for a moment, startled by the coincidence that her words matched Nick's exactly, as if they had a deeper connection or something. I noticed Tracy eyeing me sceptically, so I looked at her, silently questioning what was wrong.

"That was so nice," she noted sarcastically. I shrugged, causing my partner to sigh. "I'm just saying. She's your ex." I leaned against the wall we were standing next to and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "She's under a lot of pressure," I defended Torrey. "That's all. Everyone is." Tracy didn't look convinced, but she still nodded. Before we could continue our conversation, Nick walked by and stopped when he noticed us. Part of me was relieved to see him.