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

chapter 11

"Good morning, Sergeant," I greeted Platt among walking into the district, just to be met with her obscure gaze and a raised eyebrow. "Very funny," she shouted after me sarcastically as I made my way past her and up the stairs. Ever since I had gotten into an argument with Trudy because I was convinced she was involved with whatever was going on, she had become very wary and suspicious when talking to me. I couldn't blame her, however, and I wasn't even sure if it was that, or if she was just being Trudy Platt, although I did feel like Platt had developed a rather soft spot for Intelligence in the latest seasons, one which I might have fucked up in the past week.

"Where's Tracy?" I questioned once I put my jacket down on her desk at the bullpen, looking around for a sign that my partner had been here. I had tried calling her before I left this morning, and she hadn't picked up, which was rather unusual for Tracy. I hadn't thought too much of it, though, since I expected to see her at 21st anyway.

Running into a girl that knew our real names and remembered us from the show yesterday had given me new hope and made me think about where else we could search for clues. I had come to the conclusion that family might be a good starting point, and because I wasn't aware of any living relatives Jay had besides Will, I considered asking Tracy and possibly paying Hailey's family a visit to be a good next step.

"Tracy's not coming," Jason informed us, stepping out of his office. "She got some personal issues to take care of." I turned around to him in confusion. "Personal issues?" I asked. "We don't even know who we are or and what's going on. What personal issues are there to take care of?" Jason shrugged. He was definitely annoyed. "I have no idea, that's all she told me. But if you get any further information, feel free to share it."

"We met a girl yesterday." I changed the topic because it was obvious that whatever more I said about Tracy would just result in a fight. "She knew us from the show. She remembered." Paddy got up and walked over, suddenly interested in our conversation. "What did she say?"

I sat on Tracy's empty desk and replayed yesterday's encounter in my head. "That the show was suddenly gone one day, and that no one seems to know it even existed," I recalled. "I think that's good. I mean, someone else remembers, so it's not just us anymore. Now we know we're not going crazy. Gives me hope." Paddy furrowed his brow. "Man, I'm not sure about that," he replied. "If someone else out there says it's gone and nobody remembers, that seems like the contrary of hope to me."

"I got something," LaRoyce interrupted us. Everyone turned towards him. "The dealer you guys IDd? Patrol saw him entering his mother's house fifteen minutes ago. Hasn't left since."

I nodded, content with how fast we located him. After Tracy and I had run into that fan outside the district the day before, we had spent some time talking to the girl that survived the bad dope at Med. She had given us all necessary information on the dealer she got it from. While we most likely weren't looking for him, we were looking for his supplier, and he was currently our only way to find that guy. I hopped off Tracy's desk and grabbed my jacket. "Alright, let's go."

Once we arrived at the mother's house, Jason quickly spoke to the patrol officers observing it. Luckily, he had taken my advice, meaning that we got backup this time. I motioned for Marina and Paddy to cover the back of the building, while Lisseth and I stood beside the front door with our weapons pulled. "Chicago PD, open up," I shouted, banging on the door loudly. I exchanged a glance with LaRoyce who was standing next to Lisseth, carrying a battering ram.

"Have you ever used one of these in real life?" I questioned. "Ever kicked in a real door?" LaRoyce shook his head, carefully inspecting the piece of equipment in his hands. "It's fucking heavy," he noted. I met his gaze for a moment longer. "Hmm." Hoping he wouldn't need to use it, we both turned our focus back on the door. Luckily, a second later, a woman opened. "María Alejandra Gutierrez?" I asked, lowering my gun and stepping towards the entrance. "Chicago PD. We're looking for your son."