#Hailey OC

[yourpalghost]

have some hemlock and hailey art :)

[ghostpal]

OC art be upon ye

This is Hemlock and his highschool sweet heart, Hailey. They dated a couple years before they went off to college, breaking up so they could experience more of the world while she was in california and he was in new york.

This is hemlock dropping her off back home after a date that got rained out, her mascara wasnt water proof, she wasnt crying.

[connectionterminated13]

Here are my oc's Robert and Haley

[girls-with-boys-names]

I stayed up to an ungodly hour finishing this BG3/Robin Hood animatic so hope y’all enjoy ✨

[xyroni]

Obligatory bunny suit Hailey for Easter (even though it's late)

[alekk2018]

The beach incident

[mainstreamangel]

-ˋˏ ༻ 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘦𝘵 ༺ ˎˊ-

summary: your sweet rookie clings to you. perhaps universal payback for when you clung to your vet as a rookie.

warning(s): none

a/n: i think there’s a lack of hvl fics </3

˚₊‧꒰ა . —— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ —— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“[last name] with the steal! she’s running down the court and lays it in to put the sky up by 2.” the sportscaster says enthusiastically.

the buzzer goes off and it signals halftime. you walk sluggishly towards the bench and grab a towel that’s handed to you.

your new friend, and rookie, hailey van lith—who was just drafted to chicago sky, pats you on the butt and smiles at you.

“nice play.” she says walking with you through the tunnel.

you thank her and squirt some water in your mouth. you’ve been in the league for 6 years and wanted the new skytown rookies to feel welcome.

you were inspired to be like your vet—courtney vandersloot. she welcomed you with open arms and when she left for 2 seasons to play for the liberty, you promised her you would care for upcoming rookies like she had done so with you.

so when you were invited to the draft, you were excited to hopefully be on the same roster as hailey.

at camp you tried to strike up conversations here and there, using your best soothing voice. you could tell she was nervous—i mean going from college to a professional league? many dreamt of such but only a handful would be chosen.

sometimes you could see she would stand off to the side watching other—older players. the only player you really knew talked to hailey and whom hailey talked to back was angel reese.

you liked her, she was a kind person and had good rebound game. sometimes you two would hang out alone over lunch but you felt most comfortable with her on the court.

as the days ticked on by, you grew more comfortable as a team and seemed to have brought hailey more out of her shell.

you listen to coach as he gives his thoughts and bask in his praise.

as third quarter rolls around you sit on the bench as you watch hailey check in.

she tightens her braid and looks at you for approval and you give her a thumbs up.

“hailey van lith checking in for the first time—for the chicago sky this quarter. with the eleventh pick in the draft, we’re excited to see what this rookie can do and how she works with her teammates.

with clips of her from training camp she’s seen to have gold chemistry with former collegiate teammate, angel reese and chicago sky veteran, [name].”

the crowd cheers as hailey gets possession of the ball, passing it to angel for the layup, but missing. angel catches the rebound and you cheer her on as angel gets the whistle.

after a bit coach subs you back in and you high five your teammate running to break.

hailey comes up and pats you on your lower back. “these guys are smelly.” she mumbles.

you laugh. “we probably smell the same. sweat ‘n all.”

hailey looks at you semi-offended. “are you saying i smell?”

“perhaps.” you shrug, running to your position.

hailey shakes her head and mutters something before walking to her position.

˚₊‧꒰ა . —— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ —— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

at the end of the game, chicago wins by 3 and you stand in the centre of the court, hyping up the win for chicago.

you raised your arms for a split second waving to a nearby camera before a body collided with yours.

you stumble a bit before getting a grip on your rookie’s legs.

“onwards!” hailey wraps one arm around your neck, tbe other pointing out.

you adjust her body so she doesn’t slip and start speed walking around the court for a piggy back ride. you two laugh as you bring them over to a nearby reporter.

you don’t drop her though, you hold onto her body and lean into the mic.

“chicago we winnin’ tonight baby.” you yell.

hailey puts a peace sign with one hand and you laugh. a flash goes by and the perfect picture is taken. it goes viral almost instantly—the picture is titled ‘comfort on the court’.

˚₊‧꒰ა . —— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ —— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you sit at the conference table next to hailey.

“[name], good game for chicago tonight. how has it been working with this year’s drafted rookies?” one asks.

“yeah it’s been an honour, you know. a talented group who—through growth will for sure bring much to the league.” you say in a professional voice.

“hailey, you played an amazing game tonight. has there been anyone who has helped you with your transition to the league?”

hailey looks down at her hands for a split second, voice a little shaky.

“yeah my teammates have really welcomed me… especially [name]. she’s been there to bring me out of my shell and connect me to the team so we can continue to get wins like this one tonight.” she looks at you and you give her hand a soft rub under the table.

“hailey seemed to have some nerves when transitioning but i think not only me—but the media can see how much she relies on [name] and how she’s really had a good support to go to and to reference.” coach adds.

“hailey has there been any time, while in transition, that [name] has given you that special support, coach was talking about?” another asks.

hailey pauses and thinks about it.

it was late one night, practice ran late and it didn’t help that hailey wanted to stay for a bit to work on her free throws.

you decided to stay behind too and rebound for her.

you two talked about a bunch of things: college, childhood, interests, tiktok, etc.

and that led to you two bonding really well. might also be another reason why she clings to you is because she trusts you best.

after too many misses, hailey starts to get frustrated. leading to her thinking about all of the league’s expectations and media critics.

it was all overwhelming honestly, so much to do in such little time? she needed a minute.

before she knew it, she was so in her head—a tear fell. then another—and another.

you knew what she was in her head about. you had gone through it too. hell, probably every player has.

but you quietly sit her down in the middle of the logo and pull her into a hug. you don’t say much, you want her to let her emotions out. you want the pressure to stop.

all you say to comfort her is little, but impactful.

“get up. you’re not done yet, rookie.”

hailey smiles at the memory.

she looks at you and then turns to the mic.

“she’s just there when i need her most.”

[pure-pea2361]

caught in 4k smh

[haiisx]

Decisions, decisions...

So, here comes the lore dump:

Upon moving to Japan and becoming a Pro Hero there, Adam ended up bumping into All Might quite frequently (through either being rescued by him or by showing up to fight crime alongside him), which resulted in them eventually cutting out the middleman and deciding to meet up for patrols during the night. This happens in the ~8 months (if I remember the timeline correctly) that All Might spends training Izuku for the UA entrance exam, so Adam spends a lot of time getting to know All Might as a hero and All Might getting to know Adam as both a hero and a person.

it's during these eight months that their slow burn arc starts, interspersed with Hero work in a sort of slice of life-y feel. Adam is a little hesitant, given that All Might won't even share his real name with him, but Adam has Attachment Issues so that's not even enough to dissuade him from All Might.

During one of their patrols, Adam mentions being in search of a second job because Hero work in Japan doesn't cover the cost of living like he was used to in America. At this point, All Might calls in a favor from Nezu, pulls some strings with the "I'm All Might" card (not really, but it is a funny image), and secures Adam as the physics/chemistry teacher at UA. Adam has no idea that All Might does any of this until he receives a call from Nezu on the subject.

He meets Toshinori Yagi once he starts working at UA, and unlike in canon, Toshinori requests that only a select few of the teachers know about his True Form, those teachers being the ones working closest with the hero course. Toshinori makes this request because of his feelings for Adam and his fear that Adam would lose all interest in All Might if he knew about his True Form, so Toshinori keeps up the Secretary Yagi act around Adam.

This, of course, leads to some secret identity miscommunication, where Adam ends up falling for both All Might and Toshinori separately. However, because of Toshinori's insecurities, he avoids pursuing Adam while in his True Form and ends up remaining entirely oblivious to Adam's advances on him.

The slow burn continues with the rest of the staff getting increasingly frustrated with Adam and Toshinori's idiocy while also knowing it's not any of their places to mettle. They continue to meet during patrols, which keep getting cut short due to either All Might running out of time or Adam's Quirk side effects causing him to take a quick leave.

All Might is eventually the one to make the first move while Adam wars with the idea of being in love with both All Might and Toshinori Yagi. When All Might confesses, Adam realizes that Toshinori is the one he really loves (and the one he could actually see himself settling down with, because he is a romantic at heart), and so he rejects All Might.

But because this is my favorite trope, the miscommunication doesn't stop there. Adam phrases it as being "in love with another man" and All Might takes this as a rejection to Toshinori as well, because there is no possible way that the "other man" is Toshinori, what with his True Form looking the way it does. In response, Toshinori ends up pulling away from Adam, leaving Adam rather confused and more than a little hurt at the sudden wall of formality between them.

To add onto this, All Might continues to lose more available time in his Buff form, so he ends up seeing Adam during patrols less and less. Adam takes this as All Might ghosting him after Adam rejected him.

The tension builds until either (i haven't decided yet): a) The Kamino Ward battle, where Adam finds out that Toshinori is All Might and then almost watches him die on live television, or b) Toshinori breaks and reveals that he is All Might to Adam, where Adam realizes that they're both morons.

And that is the short summary of their romantic plotline! Either way, they get together sometime around the Kamino battle.

[mystic-warriors]

Warning: lazy drawings, suicide mention, goofy violence

<<

< >

[wildfairies]

kelden aeducan by @deeplord 🤎💎

[equallyshaw]

even after everything | Jay Halstead fic x ex fiance.

warnings: voight being voight and stereotypes.

w.c: 6.8k summary: Years after walking away from the only boy she ever loved, Aria McDavid finds herself across the courtroom from him—this time, on opposite sides of a case that could shatter everything. As a defense team fights to prove the innocence of Carlos Lopez, a man caught in the crosshairs of a corrupt system, old wounds resurface. Jay Halstead, now a detective sworn to protect the truth, is forced to testify—uncovering not only the truth of the case, but the pieces of a love story left unfinished. With a family legacy built on control and silence, and a past full of regrets, Aria must choose between the comfort of loyalty or the danger of honesty. Set against the backdrop of courtroom tension and buried heartbreak, Even After Everything is a story of justice, betrayal, and the kind of love that never really lets go.

They always say if you love something or someone, you should set them free. It’ll come back to you in the end.

They say even in the darkest hours, light can, in fact, break through the tunnel— shining down on the land and its people.

You just have to give it time— for both.

__

When Aria McDavid got the phone call from her colleague—and longtime family friend, 'unce' —Ellis Matthews, she panicked.

“How the hell did my client get picked up for murder?” she snapped into the phone, already grabbing her coat.

There was no way in hell he did it. No way. Not after everything they’d fought for, not after what he’d already been through.

Her uncle’s voice was calm, but clipped. “Get down to the 21st. Now. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

Aria was already halfway out of her Loop office, the quiet hum of the firm where she worked alongside her father now a blur behind her. Her client, a soft-spoken mechanic who spent years navigating immigration courts, had just gotten his green card. They’d bled sweat and billable hours for it, scraped through bureaucratic nightmares most people couldn’t even imagine.

He wasn’t just a name on her caseload—he was a win that mattered.

And now he was a headline waiting to happen.

The sharp click of her heels echoed through the bullpen, slicing through the otherwise quiet hum of the Intelligence Unit’s office. Only three detectives sat scattered at their desks—and her breath hitched the moment her eyes landed on one of them.

Two looked up as she passed, curiosity flickering in their eyes. But hers were locked, unwavering, on him.

She would still recognize that hair, that posture, that build—anywhere. Unfortunately.

Without a word, she veered toward the breakroom and adjacent office space. Her briefcase dropped onto his desk with a sharp thud.

Jay looked up fast, startled, nearly flinching before his gaze locked on her—his ex-fiancée. His high school sweetheart.

His everything. Once.

He swallowed hard, throat working visibly. Her palms were planted firmly on the desk, eyes molten, nostrils flared; her body leaning forward just a bit.

“Where the hell is my client?” she rasped. The words were low, sharp, and lethal. Jay felt his blood go cold.

From across the bullpen, Hailey Upton stood slowly, exchanging a look with Adam Ruzek, who had already peeked around the edge of his screen.

“I can show you, Counsel,” Hailey offered gently, her tone careful, cautious—like stepping around a landmine.

But Aria didn’t even glance her way. “No. I’d like Sergeant Halstead to do the honors,” she said, voice honeyed with poisonous sweetness.

Jay exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening as he pushed his chair back and stood. He motioned toward the hallway, a silent offer to let her walk first.

“Walk your ass, Halstead,” she snapped, arms crossed, one brow arched high. Both of their minds flashed back to high school.

Jay glanced helplessly at Hailey, who tried very hard not to smile, before he turned and led Aria toward the holding cells.

__

Jay led the way, jaw set, tension rolling off him in waves. He could feel her behind him—sharp and furious, like a storm waiting to strike.

Her heels clicked with precision, every step calculated. Controlled. But he knew her too well. Knew the rage was there to cover the fear. Or guilt.

They turned a corner, and Jay swiped his badge at the secure door, pushing it open.

Blood still crusted around his mouth, one eye nearly swollen shut, bruising creeping down the side of his neck like a handprint. He sat slumped, broken—not just physically, but in spirit.

This wasn’t the man she’d known for nearly seven years.

Not the father of two who had once brought her fresh tamales from his wife’s recipe. Not the man who’d once cried in her office when they finally got his green card secured after three appeals.

This—this—was the shell of someone who had clearly been beaten and humiliated.

Aria’s eyes softened in a blink, the fire turning into something dangerously protective.

“Off,” she said sharply, eyes snapping to Jay.

He hesitated. “Aria—”

“I said off,” she repeated, nodding to the cuffs.

Jay opened the door slowly, glancing back at her once before stepping inside. He undid the cuffs with steady hands, then stepped back to give them space.

“Five minutes,” he said lowly, directing it at her. “Then we talk.”

“Out,” she snapped, not even looking at him.

Jay's jaw ticked, but he left without another word.

The door shut behind him with a click.

Aria took the seat across from her client, folding her hands tightly to hide the shaking.

“Tell me everything,” she whispered.

__

From outside the glass, Jay stood still, unmoving.

Hailey sidled up beside him, arms crossed. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on Aria, his jaw tight.

“She’s always been terrifying when she’s pissed,” he said quietly. “But she’s never looked at me like that before.”

Hailey glanced at him sideways. “What’d you do?”

Jay let out a short breath—part scoff, part sigh. “I left. For Baghdad.”

He paused, staring down at the floor.

“I left a fiancée—two days after I proposed. Came back to a ring… and an empty house.”

Hailey blinked slowly, her expression softening just slightly. “Jay…”

Before she could finish, Adam walked up behind them, coffee in hand, clearly catching the tail end.

“Dude,” he muttered, grimacing. “That’s not just a screw-up. That’s a Shakespearean tragedy.”

Jay shot him a look. Hailey smacked Adam lightly in the stomach with the back of her hand.

“What?!” Adam threw up his free hand defensively. “I’m just saying—Macbeth had less drama!”

"Have you even read the play?" Hailey teased, and Adam scoffed, and the two began bickering with each other.

Jay didn’t say anything. He just turned back to the glass, eyes fixed on Aria, who hadn’t once looked up at him.

And that hurt more than any punch or bullet- he’d ever taken.

__

The second the interrogation room door clicked shut behind her, Aria sat down quickly.

Carlos Lopez looked up, and her breath caught.

Blood crusted his mouth. One eye nearly swollen shut. Bruising spread down his neck like a handprint. He looked shattered.

Not the man she’d known for seven years—the father who brought tamales, the client who cried when they won his green card. This was a shell.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. “Carlos… qué pasó?”

“They said I killed a cop,” he rasped. “One of them took me downstairs…”

“Did you ask for me?”

“Over and over.”

Her fury snapped to life. “No more talking. I’ve got you.”

As she stood, the door opened again—Ellis… and Voight.

She didn’t blink at her uncle. Her eyes locked on Voight like a blade.

“You put hands on my client?”

“He murdered one of my officers,” Voight growled. “I’m not coddling him.”

She stepped between them. “Touching a green card holder in custody? You want a hate crime enhancement? Keep talking.”

Voight’s smirk twitched. Ellis raised a hand.

“Don’t,” Aria warned. “You beat a man because you didn’t like what you heard. You want to explain that to ACLU, the Tribune, and my father?”

Ellis exhaled. “...I’ll call your dad.”

Behind the mirror, Jay winced. “Oh no. You don’t want that.”

Hailey’s head tilted. “Wait—her dad’s that McDavid?”

Jay nodded grimly. “And Voight just lit the fuse.”

In the room, Voight glared. “You think threats scare me?”

“They’re not threats,” Aria smiled coldly. “They’re legal guarantees.”

Then, gently, to Carlos: “We’re getting you out. I promise.”

And to Voight, over her shoulder: “And he’s going to answer for every bruise.”

__

Aria muttered under her breath in Spanish as she stepped out, Ellis, Carlos, and her dad leading the way. The tension between her father and Voight was thicker than the Chicago humidity—old enemies circling.

Her dad paused, turning to her with a serious look. In Spanish, low and sharp:“Voy a hablar con Voight. No te metas.” (“I’m going to talk to Voight. Stay out of it.”)

She nodded, but her eyes burned with defiance.

Her dad disappeared behind Voight’s closed office door. The heavy thud echoed like a warning.

Jay, leaning casually against a desk nearby, watched her, then smirked. “Well, looks like the family feud just went executive.”

Aria didn’t smile, but her eyes flicked to him with a teasing edge. “Don’t get comfortable. This isn’t a game you’re used to playing.”

Jay’s grin softened. “Maybe. But I know how to read between the lines.”

She folded her arms, voice low. “Sometimes what’s said isn’t the real story. And sometimes what’s not said? That’s where the bullets fly.”

Jay’s gaze dropped to her hands, clenched tight. “Sounds like you and your dad have a few skeletons in the closet.”

Aria’s laugh was bitter. “More like ghosts. And they don’t rest easy.”

Touche.

Jay’s voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his loyalty. “I’m here to protect my own—that cop deserved that much. But no matter what happens in there, I’m not leaving. I’ll be in his corner, too.”

Aria’s lips twitched into a sly smile, sharp and knowing. “Well, congratulations, Seargant Halstead. That officially makes you an accomplice. But don’t forget—when push comes to shove, you’ll show your true colors. Blue and brass, right?”

Jay met her gaze, the challenge and unspoken history hanging between them like a thick fog.

__ The three lawyers were back three days later to speak with Voight and to get some more files for the case.

The tension in the bullpen was thick.

Jay looks up from his desk as Aria, Arthur, and Ellis walk back in. Tension walks in with them. Arthur eyes Jay with that you ruined my daughter’s life, and I haven’t forgotten it glare. To Ellis, in Spanish but loud enough:

Arthur- dryly, “¿Él otra vez? Pensé que habíamos fumigado.” Him again? I thought we fumigated.

Jay’s brow twitches. He gets it. Her Spanish lessons during high school still clung to him.

Aria, snapping under her breath: “Papá, basta ya.” Dad, stop already.

Arthrur with his back to her: “Deberías agradecerme por decir lo que él no se atreve a decir.” You should thank me for saying what he won’t dare say.

She mutters something that almost sounds like a threat, but she walks off with Ellis. Jay watches, jaw clenched.

They walked back out, thirty minutes later, with two threats from her father about some lawsuit and Tribune article, and one from Voight, about an old case.

Aria walked behind her father and uncle, texting away on her phone, to the client's wife - Martha, telling her that she was on her way to meet for coffee.

"Watch out, Counselor, we wouldn't want you to trip down the stairs in those heels," she heard to her left, as she paused at the top of the steps. Her head raised, then twisted towards the voice: Officer Ruzek.

She gave him a forced thankful smile, before stepping down the stairs, with years of practice- in heels and continuing to text away.

As she walked out of the bullpen, and out the gate, she heard steps behind her and a voice: We've got a lead.

She locked her phone, and as she was walking out, she heard behind her: "City's really scraping the bottom defending his kind, huh?"

She froze, blood already boiling - now molten, as she turned on her heel - her uncle and dad turning around quickly.

Ellis tenses. Arthur curses under his breath.

“You want to run that back with a badge number attached?”

She steps toward him like a storm breaking its tether. That fuego puro rises up hard.

Jay, just exiting from upstairs, sees it unfolding — rushes down the stairs just in time to catch her by the waist, her just a few feet from Officer Kessler.

Jay urgently spoke, “Aria—hey. No.”

Officer Kessler grinned, “You sure you want to grab her, Halstead These days, guys like us aren’t allowed to call it what it is. You cuff her, blink twice — we’ll get it handled.”

Jay’s blood ran cold. He’d heard locker-room filth before. But this? This was a code. A quiet way of saying: She’s ours to break. Just say the word.

And Jay Halstead didn’t break women. He protected them. Even from his own. Especially from his own.

Jay snaps. Wrong move, buddy. “What did you just say?”

Kevin ran down the steps, settling in between him and Kessler, “Jay, don’t—”

Jay didn't bluff, “No. Say it again. Say it in front of IA this time.”

Jay lunges — Kevin grabs him from behind.

Aria tries to twist free from Adam, who’s got a hold on her wrist now.

Even more cockier - Kessler spoke again, “Touchy. Must be something in the blood.”

Aria nearly bites her own tongue in half. Almost steps on Ruzek with her heel. Ellis steps between them, cool but seething.

“Officer, if you want to be anywhere near this case, I suggest you back off. Otherwise— The Tribune loves a good old-fashioned meltdown. I’ll make sure your name’s spelled right.”

Seargant platt appeared behind her perch - now, “Officer Kessler. My office. Now.”

Kessler tries to defend himself. Trudy cuts him off with a single stare.

“You just got real close to pissing off the wrong lawyers. And me. Move.”

Kessler storms off.

Aria exhales, tension still high.

Aria to no one in particular, under her breath, “A cop protecting me and my client? Who’d’ve thought.”

Jay leveled with her, “Not protecting. Just picking a side.”

Trudy over her shoulder, “Enjoy it while it lasts, Counselor. You’re still a thorn in my ass.”

Aria nodded.

They all walk out — leaving the station charged in their wake.

__

Her and her father had been arguing for over two hours now, elbows deep in charges, case files + personal history.

The glass walls do nothing to contain the storm inside. Aria stands stiff across from her father, arms folded, the city behind her flickering like a warning.

“You’re compromised,” Arthur says, quiet but firm.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you. In the bullpen. The way you looked at him. Jay Halstead’s not just a name on a file. He never was.”

She exhales through her nose.

“And you think I can’t separate the two?”

“You didn’t. Not then. You ran—from him, from this city, from everything.”

“I ran because I had to.”

“Because he left. Two days after slipping a ring on your finger. Left you here with—”

He stops himself.

“Say it,” Aria snaps. “Say what you really want to say.”

Arthur’s voice lowers. “You were pregnant.”

Silence drops like a hammer.

“You gave up my first grandchild without a word.”

The silence lands like a gunshot.

Aria’s jaw tightens. Her arms fall to her sides.

“Don’t you dare put that on me,” she says. Her voice cracks. “I was 18. Freshly graduated. Alone. Engaged to a man in a war zone. I’d just buried my mother, and you were drowning in your own grief.”

A pause. Her voice drops.

“And yeah. I gave up my child. My choice. Because I couldn’t give them anything. Not stability. Not certainty. Not him.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“And what? You’d drag me into court? Called Jay back from the Middle East? He never even knew. Still doesn’t.”

Arthur stands, slow and deliberate. “He’s not worthy of knowing.”

Aria stares at him, breath stuck in her chest.

“I don’t get to hate him, Papa,” she says quietly. “Not for what I did. We were supposed to be married. Raise a child together. And I took that from him.”

Her throat tightens.

“If anyone gets to be angry — it’s not you. It’s not even me. It’s him.”

Arthur doesn’t speak.

“This case has dug up everything I buried under law books and trial prep,” she adds. “And no, I can’t- will not recuse myself. Because there’s a family depending on us.”

She swallows hard.

“If I feel anything when I see Jay, it’s not resentment. It’s regret. Guilt. It’s wondering what we could’ve been if life hadn’t ripped the floor out from under us.”

A long beat.

“I didn’t come back for him. But maybe… maybe I’m supposed to finish what we started.”

Arthur’s shoulders shift, tension giving just slightly.

“You always did love lost causes,” he mutters.

“They’re not lost,” she says, turning for the door. “Just the ones no one else bothers to fight for.”

She’s gone before he can argue.

__

15 days later.

Aria approached the witness stand slowly, heels echoing across the courtroom like clock hands ticking down. She stopped a few paces from Voight, then set both hands on the edge of the stand, posture firm but calm.

“This city—this department—has notoriously upheld racist techniques and behaviors,” she said. “Put in place to protect you. The white male saviors.”

Voight’s expression didn’t flicker. It never did.

She went on, pacing just slightly, letting her words hang. “Over the past decade, tactics have shifted. Strategies have changed. But not you. You’re what they call ‘old school,’ right?”

She turned to face him head-on.

“Wouldn’t you say that, Sergeant Voight? Years of misconduct allegations, use-of-force complaints, lawsuits—your file has its own cabinet at CPD, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t answer.

She leaned in just enough. “So what makes this case different? What makes it believable that you didn’t put your hands on my client, that you didn’t escalate because of the color of his skin? Because he wasn’t white-passing, wasn’t fluent, wasn’t ‘safe’?”

Her voice sharpened. “Because he was at the wrong place, wrong time—and you had no one else to blame?”

She gave the jury a moment to absorb that.

“I’ve known Carlos for eight years,” she said, turning slightly toward them. “He was my first client. I sat with him through interviews, paperwork, and the day he got his green card. I was there when his daughter was born. When he married his wife, Martha. He worked years to get here. What, in your expert opinion, Sergeant Voight, makes you think he’d throw all that away?”

Still, he said nothing.

She narrowed her eyes. “What training, what background, what education gives you the authority to determine that? What certifies you as an expert on immigration status, racial identity, or asylum culture?”

A small tick appeared in his jaw.

She tilted her head. “What exactly gives you the right?”

Voight finally snapped, “Are you trying to get me to say I’m a racist? Or a bigot?”

Silence dropped like a curtain.

Aria froze for half a second, then turned to face him fully, arms folding slowly across her chest.

“Well,” she asked coolly, “are you?”

A rustle swept the room.

Before he could reply, she stepped forward again.

“There was a complaint filed in 2001, wasn’t there?” she asked. “Just weeks after 9/11. A fellow officer of color reported you for using racial slurs, aggressive profiling tactics during a routine stop near Little Village. You remember that, don’t you?”

Voight opened his mouth, but the judge’s gavel slammed.

“Ms. McDavid,” the judge warned.

She held her hands up lightly, like surrender. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Voight, ever defiant, called after her as she walked away. “You think you know me, Counsel. But I’ve been doing this job longer than you’ve been alive.”

She stopped.

“I’ve made mistakes,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Plenty. But I don’t make them based on skin color. That’s not who I am.”

She turned just slightly, saw something shift in his tone—not guilt, but conviction. And for the briefest second, it gave her pause.

The flicker passed.

Aria returned to the table, her silence as powerful as anything she’d said.

But Voight kept talking.

To the jury. To the judge. To himself.

Trying to explain who he was.

But Aria had already made them question it.

And that was the whole point.

__

The courtroom emptied on the judge’s call for recess, murmurs trailing Aria’s exit like smoke. She didn’t wait for Ellis. Didn’t wait for her father. Her heels echoed against marble as she pushed through the heavy doors and into the hallway.

The Intelligence Unit stood at the far end, arms crossed, expressions locked. She didn’t stop.

But Jay did.

“I’ll catch up,” he murmured, already moving.

She felt him before she heard him — his presence familiar, his steps intentional. His hand brushed her arm, gentle. She didn’t flinch.

He guided her behind a marble column, just out of view.

“That was a hell of a move,” he said quietly.

“It was overdue,” she replied, eyes fixed forward.

“You alright?”

“He tried to bait me.” A pause. “Almost worked.”

She finally looked at him. “But I’ve studied that man for years.”

Jay nodded. “You held your own.”

“I always do.”

Silence lingered. A shared breath.

“You know where I stand,” he said.

Her gaze softened. “I hope you remember that—when this is all said and done.”

A beat.

“Don’t fall in line with them, Jay,” she added. “Don’t mirror their beliefs just to survive.”

He didn’t respond. Just listened.

She looked down the corridor, then back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

And she was gone.

Jay stayed rooted, the words ringing in his chest.

He didn’t know if it was a promise or a warning.

But he prayed it was the first.

__

Aria tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders as she stepped into the hallway, purse slung over her arm and exhaustion clinging to her bones. The hum of the office had finally died down—most lights off, the cleaning staff starting their rounds.

Her father stood just outside his office, tie loosened, jaw tight.

“We’re putting Halstead on the stand,” he said flatly.

She froze mid-step. “¿Qué pasa?”

“We’re putting Jay up there to testify,” he repeated, voice like a stone dropped in still water. “And you’re going to question him.”

She blinked at him. “The hell I am.”

“You are,” he snapped, stepping toward her. “Because you’re the one who knows him. You’re the one who—”

“No.” Her voice cracked sharp. “The only reason you’re doing this, Papa, is because you can’t stand him. You can’t stand what he did.”

He didn’t flinch.

“Just admit it,” she pushed. “This isn’t strategy. This is a personal vendetta.”

He slammed his hand on the doorframe, voice rising. “Because he ruined your life!”

The words echoed, louder than the walls could hold.

Aria stood still. Her eyes searched his face, but it was unreadable—just a father, caught between fury and heartbreak.

Then, softly, like a confession:

“No,” she whispered. “He never did.”

She stepped back, pain blooming in her chest like something sacred.

“I ruined his.”

And with that, she walked past him—head held high, but heart breaking all over again.

__ Flashback — Sunday family dinner: Freshman year of high school.

The McDavid family sat stiffly around the table. Arthur’s eyes burned into Jay. He couldn’t stand him—not because Jay wasn’t good enough, but because Jay was everything Arthur wanted for his daughter, just not yet.

Kind. Respectful. Sweet. Funny. Caring. From a good family, too.

Arthur’s eyes burned into Jay. “You know, high school girls ask for a lot of things they’ll regret later.”

Jay blinked. “That… might be the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Charlotte’s voice cracked as she slammed her hand on the table. “Arthur, be nice! Don’t talk to him like that.”

Aria shot a glance at her mom, surprised by the outburst.

Arthur ignored her and turned back to Jay. “A baseball jock? Passing grades? That’s not the future I planned for my daughter. She’s on the debate team, headed to New York for undergrad and then law school. That’s been decided since she was a baby.”

Charlotte reached across, squeezing Jay’s hand, her gaze never leaving her husband. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

The tension thickened, but Aria knew better than to step in. This wasn’t just about Jay. The fights had been going on for months—since Jay started coming around. But what she didn’t know was the real reason: her mom’s cancer had come back. They were fighting about that too—something Aria wasn’t ready to be privyed to.

After dinner, Aria pulled Jay outside, her voice soft. “That was the first time I really saw them fight in front of me… it started around the time you started coming around.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So you're saying I ruined your family? That’s… honestly, that's a first. Wanna say it again for the people in the back?"

Her lips twitched despite herself.

Her voice dropped. “But to hell with what they think. You know that.”

Jay nodded, his smile gentler now. “Yeah. I know.”

__

Aria stood in front of the brown apartment door, a white bag of tamales and rice in hand, debating whether to knock. Stir up a conflict of interest—or walk away. Pretend they never crossed paths again. She sighed—and knocked.

A minute passed. Then the door opened.

Jay stood there. He must be hallucinating. He swallowed hard, eyebrows knitting.

“May I come in?” she asked softly.

He stepped aside, pulling the door open wordlessly.

The Loop apartment looked exactly how she imagined it would. Modern. Sleek. A man cave through and through. It stung a little, how familiar it still felt. She set the bag down on a chair near the door, along with her winter coat.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. She turned to him, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Your face does that scrunch when you’re upset,” he added gently.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You still know me that well, huh?”

“Like a book, Ari,” he murmured. He stepped beside her. “Still remember my favorite?”

“Lucky guess?” she teased, pulling food from the bag.

She took her place on the brown leather couch, feet tucked beneath her. Jay sat across from her. They ate in silence. Tension, angst, grief, and anxiety clung to the room like thick fog.

She set down the container—two tamales gone, rice and beans half-finished—and took a long sip of the cold beer he’d placed beside her.

“So... why’d you come, Ari?” Jay finally asked, setting aside his own food.

She sighed, wiped her lips, and turned to face him. She couldn’t tell him the truth: that he might be on the stand tomorrow. That they were dragging him into something he didn’t deserve.

“I wanted to apologize,” she began. “For leaving. After you left for basic.”

His chest rose with a deep breath.

“I left because I was scared—of everything. The future. What could happen. My dad was grieving my mother, and I... I felt trapped. Without you, I didn’t have my anchor. My light at the end of the tunnel.”

She looked up at the ceiling, blinking away tears.

“And don’t think I was mad you left to serve. That’s not it.” Her voice broke. “It’s just... I was alone.”

She sniffled, fingers fidgeting in her lap.

“Two days after you left for basic... I found out I was pregnant.”

A tear slipped out.

Jay froze. His blood ran cold. His mind stopped. She was—pregnant?

She looked at him. He was unraveling in silence.

“I told my uncle. I couldn’t tell my dad, I was too scared. And when my uncle... said a few cruel things, I fled. I stuck to the plan—New York for undergrad, live with my aunt and uncle, go to law school, come back to Chicago...”

She wiped her cheeks.

“But there wasn’t a place in that plan for a baby. Not even for marriage. And we were just kids, Jay.”

He swallowed, his throat thick with emotion.

“Right before the end of my first year... I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.” Her voice cracked. She saw the way his eyes glossed over.

His beautiful blue eyes—full of pain.

“I met a couple through my uncle’s law firm. A well-off couple—both lawyers. She’s a federal judge now. They love my aunt and uncle, and I knew they’d love her. I gave her up for an open adoption. They gave me mercy. And our daughter... she knows about me. She’ll always know. At their discretion.”

Aria stood, pacing. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“What’s her name?” he asked, voice low—hope flickering through her like electricity.

She smiled gently, freezing in place. “Leona Simone,” she said. “It means Lioness.”

A softness crossed his features. “Do you have a picture?”

She nodded and pulled out her phone, swiping to her favorite album.

“She goes by Leo,” she whispered, chuckling under her breath. That sound alone made Jay’s chest ache.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes as she turned the phone toward him.

In the photo, Leona sat behind her mother’s judge seat in a courtroom—Second District Federal Circuit. Her adoptive father sat on one side, her adoptive mother on the other. Her smile was wide, radiant.

She looked like she belonged there. Even at ten.

Jay didn’t notice the detail right away.

The sticker covering the judge’s nameplate: Leona Halstead-McKnight.

His breath stilled. His eyes met Aria’s, then flicked back to the photo.

Shock. Disbelief. Heartbreak.

He wiped a tear and stared at their daughter.

“I know. It’s a lot,” Aria said gently, taking the phone back. "Even with the adoption, she knows her birth name. The full one, uses it as her middle name sometimes," she hummed. She searched again, swiping to one of her most treasured photos—the day Leona was born.

“She was pressed to my chest, just before I signed the papers.”

Jay took the phone, hesitant. The picture said it all—her smile wide, but full of pain. Her eyes glossy with tears.

She motioned for him to swipe.

The next image: Leo at four, beaming at Navy Pier in Aria’s arms.

Happy.

He could see her features—hers, and his. A perfect blend of two people, who once thought they had all the time in the world.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, voice trembling.

She shook her head. “No. They gave her what I couldn’t. What we couldn’t. If it had happened later... maybe. But back then? I wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.”

She clasped her hands, grounding herself.

“I’m sorry if that’s not how you feel. I understand if you hate me. But I was eighteen, Jay. And so were you.”

He nodded slowly.

Then, he asked, “Did you ever stop loving me?”

Her phone screen went black. She didn’t need it anymore.

“No,” she said simply. “Never. I... always believed we’d cross paths again. That we weren’t finished.”

Jay stood as she slid the phone back into her pocket.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” she added, meaning every word. “For how this happened. I never envisioned us reconnecting this way.”

He knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She was following her principles. Protecting her client. Doing the right thing.

But still—

“Don’t go,” he whispered as she walked past. “Stay.”

She turned.

He cupped her face, just like he did the night he asked her to marry him.

“I let you leave once,” he murmured, eyes searching hers. “I’m never letting you leave again.”

And then he kissed her. Hot. Heavy. Desperate.

Clothes shed quickly—too quickly, maybe. But Aria didn’t care. One thing echoed in her mind.

She prayed the words he once said were still true:

That he’d love her, no matter what.

Especially, if her father threw him to the wolves; especially then.

__

The courtroom buzzed low with tension. Aria sat poised, every thread of her suit starched and perfect, but her insides churned. She’d spent the night tangled in memory and skin, in regret and old wounds. She hadn't told him. Not fully. Only a whispered, "I’m sorry, Jay. Whatever happens today... I’m sorry."

She thought maybe he knew. She hoped.

She wasn't expecting her uncle to get up and announce what he did, everything stilled.

"The defense of Carlos Lopez calls on Detective Jay Halstead to speak on behalf of Seargant Hank Voight."

She was throwing him to the wolves, pulling the rug out from underneath him for the second time: her leaving after he left, and now.

Jay’s head jerked slightly, like the air had been knocked from his lungs. He looked toward her, confusion bleeding into betrayal. Everyone in the courtroom followed his gaze—to Aria.

And they saw it.

The shared history.

The devastation.

He stood slowly. Walked past her like she didn’t exist. Like she was just another lawyer.

But she felt it. That cut.

The way he didn’t look back.

He took the stand, hand raised, voice flat as he swore in.

Aria now stared at Ellis, her jaw tight. Her mind flashed to all the years before this case—how her father hated Jay from the start. That boy who showed up uninvited, proposing without asking permission, forcing Aria to flee after her mother’s death, pregnant and alone.

She had trusted Ellis once. Now, she felt completely exposed.

She clenched her fists, the betrayal cutting deep. He said he wouldn’t question Jay. He promised.

Ellis’s gaze was hard as steel. He wasn’t just trying to break Jay as a witness—he was trying to get under the skin of the entire CPD unit, and under Aria.

Jay briefly looked over at Aria, a tight set to his mouth. He caught her eye from across the courtroom.

For a moment, the noise around them faded.

That look he gave her—the same one he’d given just before he proposed that spring break night years ago. Quiet, unwavering, full of promises.

"Forever.” it said.

__ Flashback: Spring break - Senior year.

Jay and Aria lay tangled in the quiet stillness of his childhood bedroom. The clock read 2 a.m., the faint sound of Jay’s brother snoring from the next room the only other noise.

Aria’s eyes searched his face, vulnerability bleeding through. “Promise me you’ll always love me,” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “No matter what happens when you leave for basic training.”

Jay’s hands found her face, his touch gentle, grounding. “I promise, Ari. Always.”

A heavy silence hung between them, thick with the weight of the unknown.

Then, slowly, Jay’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Will you marry me?”

Aria’s breath caught in her throat—hope and overwhelm crashing into one fragile moment.

They held each other tighter, a quiet vow forged in the shadow of uncertainty.

__

Jay took the stand, hand raised, voice steady as he was sworn in.

The courtroom held its breath—until the CPD counsel rose abruptly, a cold smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Your Honor,” he began smoothly, “the prosecution was made aware, thanks to Detective Hailey Upton's diligence, of a prior engagement between Detective Halstead and Ms. McDavid.”

He paused, letting the weight of the revelation settle. “Given this, alongside the longstanding animosity between Sergeant Voight and Mr. McDavid, we must question the impartiality of this testimony. It appears this is less about justice and more about personal vendettas.”

Whispers filled the room.

Aria’s heart sank. This had been a trap laid weeks ago — Hailey had quietly passed the engagement details to the CPD counsel, who had patiently waited for this exact moment to blindside them both.

Jay’s eyes flicked to Aria’s, a flicker of frustration and hurt there. She clenched her fists, knowing this wasn’t just about the trial anymore — it was a twisted game to get under their skin.

__

The courtroom seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with expectation and old wounds barely covered. Jay Halstead sat rigid, his jaw tight, eyes flicking once toward Aria before fixing ahead. The weight between them was almost physical—years of memories tangled with pain, betrayal, and what-ifs, all swirling in that sterile space.

The CPD counsel rose smoothly, breaking the silence like a sharp knife.

“Detective Halstead, please describe your role in the investigation of Carlos Lopez.” His voice was polite but cold, carefully calibrated.

Jay cleared his throat. “I responded to the scene after reports of a shooting. I assisted with securing the area and gathering witness statements.”

Carlos Lopez—the bakery owner, with a family, facing the impossible charge of shooting a police officer—had been Aria’s first client, years ago, when she was still just finding her footing as a lawyer. She knew the truth: Carlos was innocent. The real threat was the tangled web of bias and power closing in.

The CPD counsel’s gaze hardened. “You’ve been known to clash with Sergeant Voight over his... unconventional methods. Would you say that’s accurate?”

Jay’s voice didn’t waver. “We don’t always see eye to eye. But I respect his commitment to the job.”

A flicker of something—regret, maybe—passed in his eyes as they met Aria’s for a fraction of a second before he looked away.

The counsel pressed harder. “And your prior engagement to Aria McDavid—does that complicate your judgment in this case?”

Jay’s hand clenched the edge of the witness stand. “My personal history has no bearing on my duties as a detective.”

There was a charged silence.

The counsel leaned in slightly. “The McDavid family has long held disdain for Sergeant Voight. Arthur McDavid’s influence is well known. Do you believe this case is being used as a personal vendetta?”

Jay’s voice dropped, heavy with contained frustration. “I’m not here to speculate on politics or family grudges.”

Across the courtroom, Aria’s heart hammered—memories of better days crashing into the cold reality. The way he’d looked at her once—full of quiet promises and unspoken dreams—felt like a ghost haunting this room. Now, they were forced into roles neither wanted, pretending the cracks didn’t show.

When it was her turn, Aria rose, every step deliberate. Her voice was calm but resolute.

“Detective Halstead, in your experience, do Sergeant Voight’s tactics sometimes cross ethical or legal boundaries?”

Jay’s eyes met hers, and for a moment the courtroom seemed to disappear. He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Sometimes. His methods are aggressive—maybe too much. But he believes it’s necessary to keep people safe.”

She pressed on. “Have you witnessed him target individuals unfairly, based on their race or background?”

Jay swallowed. “There have been times... actions that made me uncomfortable, especially toward minority communities.”

Aria’s gaze didn’t waver. “Do you believe that bias has influenced the investigation into Carlos Lopez?”

He looked down briefly before meeting her eyes again. “There are factors that need deeper scrutiny. Bias can be hard to see, but it’s there.”

The words hung between them, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Aria closed her notebook. “No further questions.”

Behind her, Ellis’s voice was barely audible, a sharp warning: “You pivot this case right, or I’m pulling you. Your father will be sitting next to me.”

Her hands trembled just slightly, but she nodded. This was far from over.

__

The verdict came quietly but carried the weight of thunder.

“Not guilty.”

The words echoed through the courtroom, disbelief and relief mingling in the air. Carlos Lopez, the man Aria had fought for from the start, was free.

But freedom felt hollow.

The real killer—a disgruntled confidential informant from narcotics, the one whose bitterness festered into violence—had slipped through cracks in the system. The officers had known, yet the case had become a battleground far bigger than the truth.

Jay and Aria sat opposite each other, the buzz of the courtroom fading to a murmur. Their eyes met, and everything unsaid hung there: the sleepless nights, the whispered apologies, the fractures left raw by this trial.

They both knew this case had marked them—not just professionally but personally. It had torn open old wounds and exposed every fragile piece of what once was.

Still, stubborn as ever, their love lingered beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniable.

Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke that evening, “We’re in deep, Aria.”

She met his gaze, her own voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. “Maybe. But we’re not done. Not yet.”

In that soft exchange, amidst the chaos and the scars, one truth remained clear: no matter how far the world pushed them apart, they still fought to hold onto each other.

Because some bonds—broken, battered, and bruised—refuse to fade.

They say if you love something, you set it free. It’ll find its way back in the end.

Even in the darkest hours, light breaks through— shining down on the land, on its people.

You just have to give it time.

And so, the love that Aria set free all those years ago - did in fact, find its way back to her.

Strong - steady - unwavering.

Even through her darkest months, following the court case, navigating the ending of her professional relationship with her father & uncle - light broke through.

The light that was once in her life - Jay, came back with fierce and bright- lighting up her days, as they fell into step, side by side.

All they needed was time - and time, was finally on their side.

[uptondixon]

Upstead Foster Daughter

Did you ever wonder how Upstead would be as foster parents for a teenage girl? Like Hank and Erin, Hailey and Jay welcomed Olivia to their home when she was 16. Olivia holds a lot of grudges and is full of mischief, but she is also incredibly sweet and has a tremendous need to feel like she belongs. To her surprise, Hailey and Jay will give her exactly that.

Masterlist

[Chapter II] “You’re on your own, kid, you always have been”

No one expected to hear a stranger's voice through their radio, let alone saying that Jay was bleeding out on the pavement.

“Who the hell are you?” Voight’s surprised voice came through the radio.

“My name is Olivia Rivera, I'm with your officer Halstead and he's been shot! I'm sorry I couldn't call an ambulance but I don't have my phone with me,” Olivia said everything so fast they almost couldn't understand it.

“Shot? What the hell?” said Hailey in exasperation. She was driving with Voight after Jay left by himself.

The whole team was checking the crime scene from their current case when Jay got a call from a CI. Hailey was busy interrogating a witness when he got the call. She told him to wait for her but he was so eager for whatever information his CI had to give that he decided to go by himself. Turns out it was a trap. Hailey did not know the details yet, but she couldn’t help but think that this would have not happened if she had been with him.

“Wh-where are you?” Hailey asked, already feeling her heart start to beat out of her chest.

Olivia told her the address as slowly as possible in her state; after that, Hailey started bombarding her with questions she did not know how to answer.

While they talked, Voight rushed in passing the address to dispatch requesting an ambulance and some patrol cars. The rest of the team followed behind.

“Is he conscious?” Hailey asked.

Silence followed her question, leaving them both tense.

“Olivia! Is he conscious?” Hailey repeated.

“I- He- He was until now when I called you.”

“Does he still have a pulse, Olivia?” Hailey guided her to check.

“Yes, he does!”

“Okay, okay, keep putting pressure on the wound.”

“What's the ambulance ETA?” Voight's rough voice questioned dispatch.

“We're close, hang tight Olivia,” Hailey said, trying to calm the girl and herself down. He would make it, he always made it. This was not his first time being shot, but she surely hoped it was his last. She couldn't do this last time and she especially can't do it now.

“He'll be fine, Hailey,” Voight's voice invaded her thoughts. “Halstead’s strong, he'll get through this.”

Olivia didn't like hospitals. She felt trapped, unsafe, and overwhelmed. Probably because of the amount of people coming and going, the voices overlapping each other. There was too much going on and she shouldn't even be there in the first place.

After Jay's co-workers got to them everything happened in a blur. The ambulance got there seconds later, along with the other members of the team.

When Hailey and Voight arrived, Hailey came running in Jay and Olivia’s direction. She stared at the teenager with a mix of desperation and gratitude. Olivia stepped away as Hailey took her place. As others approached, Olivia stepped more and more away from the scene, ending up a little far away from it all.

She watched the scene unfold before her eyes in a trance. Jay was put into an ambulance and taken to the hospital, with several police cars following behind. Should she leave? She wants to know if he is going to be alright, of course. On the other hand, she feels like she was not supposed to be there.

“Hey! Olivia, isn't it?” a tall man appeared in her field of vision, his eyes were gentle and his voice calm.

“Yes,” Olivia answered.

“Name’s Kevin, Kevin Atwater. This is my friend, Kim Burgess,” he pointed to the woman beside him, and she smiled softly. Both officers looked shaken but they masked well, Olivia thought. Of course, this was not easy for them. Seeing a colleague hurt like that, almost lifeless.

“There's someone we can call for you? Your mom or dad?” Kim asked.

The girl didn’t answer. Kevin and Kim exchanged a look.

“Well, just come to the hospital with us then, okay?”

Voight watched them from afar, getting ready to enter the car and head to Med. Jay was the priority now, but they all were grateful for the girl, she saved Jay’s life after all. He made a mental note to thank her personally later.

Olivia debated for a moment. She decided it was better if she went with them and found a way to leave later without them noticing.

She nodded and followed them to the car.

“You can get cleaned up there,” Kim said after getting in the car.

Kevin started the drive to Med. Olivia didn’t answer the officer, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of all the blood on her. The adrenaline was wearing down.

“Are you okay, Olivia?” Kim asked softly.

“Yeah, sorry… I'm fine.”

“It’s okay, we will get to the hospital soon.”

Sitting in the doctors' room in Chicago Med a couple of hours later, Olivia was clean and waiting for a chance to leave. The really nice nurse called April who helped her clean up and gave her some food came by minutes ago and told her Jay would be alright. She left again when another nurse called for her so now was the perfect time for Olivia to leave.

She did not need to be discharged since she was neither a patient nor a suspect, right? Olivia got up and left the room, bringing some of the snacks the nurse gave her.

“Don’t worry Hails, we’re getting the bastard who shot Jay,” Kevin said firmly, looking at a very distressed-looking Hailey. Olivia got to the hospital’s lounge and saw Jay’s team reunited talking. They had their backs to the door she entered and could not see her.

They started to talk about the man who shot Jay and what they were doing to find him, most of which Olivia did not understand or did not care to try to understand. She stopped paying attention and started to plan how she would get out of there. There was only one way out and she could not leave without them seeing her.

Olivia was scared. She knew she wasn’t in trouble or anything but they were still police so she might as well be in trouble if they got to know more about her. Hell, they might as well already know.

“Stay with your husband Hailey, we’ll get him,” Voight's words drew Olivia's attention. Husband? That explained why Hailey was the most distressed of them all. The look on her face when she saw him lying on the pavement.

“Oh! Olivia, there you are,” said April, the nurse who helped Olivia earlier. Olivia's name caught the group's attention and five heads turned to look in her direction.

“Olivia!” Voight said, approaching the girl. “How are you? I need to properly thank you for helping my detective, I don’t know what could have happened if you weren’t there.”

“I… well, he was…” Olivia did not know what to say, so she came with a simple “You’re welcome” and a shy smile. She didn't expect to talk with anyone, let alone have all the attention on her.

“Well, I’m Sergeant Hank Voight and this is my team,” he went on introducing each of them. “You met Officer Kim Burgess and Officer Kevin Atwater. Detective Hailey Upton was the one you spoke with on the radio. And that is Officer Adam Ruzek.” he pointed to each one and they gave her a nod or a small smile.

After the introduction, he turned to look at her again. He spoke in a more serious tone, “We’re going to need your statement.”

Shit. That is exactly what she was trying to avoid. “I can’t!” was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

“It’s okay Olivia, we checked your file and we’re going to call your foster family on the way to the station,” Hank said.

So they know about her foster family, but they did not know she had run away yet. That was why she was in that alley, in that part of town, by herself.

Olivia thought about running but she could never get far with this many cops around. On their way to the district, she thought about jumping from the moving car but that was too stupid even for her. She laughed at the thought. Sitting in the car with Kim and Kevin again, she accepted her fate.

All her effort running away was for nothing. She was back to square one.

Slow, I know, but this is me trying guys. I love this OC so I hope I can keep writing her story even though I'm slow af. Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs on chapter one! ♡

[girls-with-boys-names]

Yall wanted a part 2 of this BG3/Robin Hood crossover so enjoy one of the best romance scenes of all time ✨

[alekk2018]

I sketched them as I imagine them to be

[pure-pea2361]

Don’t mind him he’s just being emotional idk