sergeant voight

Can’t Stay Away

Hey guys! I’m sorry for taking so long with stories but I feel like I’m finally getting a rhythm with school so I’m hoping I can write out more stories than I have been doing. Also with news of Brettonio is giving me inspiration to write. As promised, this is a make up story and hopefully I can write out Julie getting kidnapped next weekend. Keep an eye out on my posts though because I may need some suggestions for that story. But as always, enjoy! If it’s rusty that’s because I am lol.

P.S. This is based before the finale, I suppose. So anything that happened recently doesn’t exist in this story. :)


Ever since Antonio and Sylvie broke up, he focused more on work and his kids. It was the reason why he broke up with her in the first place.

The kids were with their friends tonight so he decided to work on this case that were driving them crazy. While everyone went home for the night to rest so they could clear their mind to work on more tomorrow, Antonio stayed to see if he could find out some more information.

As it hit 9:PM Antonio knew he had to go home. He stood up with the files in his hands, wanting to stop by the district to hand some files over for Voight tomorrow. They were all working on this case together and he promised his former boss that he would keep him updated with any new developing.

He walked out of the building and he inhaled a deep breath. He walked over to his truck and he got inside.

20 minutes later, he parked outside of the district and then he turned off his truck. He stepped out and walked over to the building. As he headed inside, he nodded his head at the police officers that he knew.

He walked up to the desk, expecting to see Sergeant Platt at the desk but it was someone else. He took a deep breath as he tried to get the guy’s attention. “Uh, hi. I have these files that I need Sergeant Voight to look over. When he comes in tomorrow morning, can you give this to him?” He asked softly.

“You can give it to him now.” The guy said.

“What?” He asked confused.

“Sergeant Voight is in his office upstairs.” Before Antonio could respond, the guy picked up the phone and a second later he heard him talking to someone, he assumed was Voight.

As he hung up, he looked at Antonio. “You can head up if you want.”

Antonio nodded his head as he turned and started heading upstairs. He buzzed himself in and then he walked through the gate. He walked towards his office and he knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Voight said and he opened the door.

“I didn’t think—-I thought you would be home.” Antonio explained. “But anyway here is the files for the case we’re working on.”

Voight nodded his head as he took the files from him. But instead of opening them like he normally would have, he tossed it down on his desk. “I’ll check it out tomorrow.” He promised.

Antonio nodded his head as he studied his former boss. He walked over and he closed the door and then he sat down on the chair across from him.

“Serg? What’s going on?” He asked.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out this case.” He said and Antonio’s eyes went to the unopened files on his desk. “Olive doesn’t want to bring Daniel to visit me.” He admitted.

“Then  go visit her.” He suggested. “Daniel would loved to see you.”

“Maybe.” He nodded his head. “But I just thought after a few months she’ll come back.”

“She lost her husband, coming back would probably cause her too much pain.” He pointed out.

“I know. And I get it. But I lost my wife and now son, I don’t want to lose my grandson when he’s alive and I can see him.”

Antonio knew Voight was staying strong while he was in front of everyone, but since everyone was gone, this was his time to grieve for his son.

“I’m sure if you ask Olive if you can visit him, she’ll let you. She doesn’t want to keep you from him, she just can’t come back here.”

“You know, the last memory I have of Justin isn’t when he was shot, or when I turned off the machines. It was when we were celebrating Daniel’s first birthday—” He paused to stop himself from breaking down. “We were all so happy.”

“It’s a good memory.” Antonio mused. He knew Voight would never get over the death of Justin, of course not, but he never thought that he was hiding this pain from others at the same time. “Why don’t I drive you home?”

Voight shook his head. “Nah. I think I’d stay here.” Truth was, he hated going home, he only went there when he was tired and knew he would fall asleep as soon as he laid on his pillow.

Antonio stood up and he nodded his head. He wasn’t sure what he could say to make him feel better. Antonio couldn’t imagine how he would feel if he lost any of his kids. Diego and Eva meant more to him than anyone else in the world and losing any of them would sure as hell drive Antonio insane. Not only would he kill the person responsible but he wouldn’t know how to survive.

“I’m only a phone call away if you need anything.” There was once a time in his life that he hated Voight and he thought working for him would be a nightmare. But now, his loyalty was with him. It was because of him that he got promoted.

“Thanks, Antonio.” Voight nodded his head and Antonio walked out of his office, shutting the door behind him.

As Antonio walked through the gate and downstairs, he pulled out of his phone, seeing if he had any missed calls or messages. Knowing why he was checking, he sighed.

He walked out of the police district and looked out at the dark sky. “Ah, screw this.” He muttered as he walked over to his truck and got inside.

As soon as he started the truck, he drove away. A few minutes later, he parked outside of the apartment building and he took a deep breath. Before he went inside, he texted the kids to make sure they were okay.

As he got out of the truck, he headed over to the apartment building and walked inside. A few minutes later, he stood outside the door and he knocked gently.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Sylvie looks at him surprised. “Antonio?” She asked.

Antonio stared at her for a few seconds, trying to gather up strength to say what he came here for. “I—-.” He shook his head, hating how his voice made him sound nervous. Although he was nervous, he didn’t want her to know that.

He cleared his throat to start again. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Sylvie stood there, not knowing what to say. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that or even if that meant they would end up back together. She hated that she had to thread lightly with Antonio; the one person she thought she wouldn’t have to. “Um, come in. I’m alone.” Otis and Cruz were out tonight and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with people tonight.

But dealing with Antonio would be different. As long as he wasn’t here to tell her that he couldn’t put her first again, then she would kick him out.

Antonio walked into the apartment and he looked at the mess of things on the chair. “Never thought you would allow this in your apartment.” He said softly, trying to break the ice.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t live alone.” She said simply. “Besides, I tried to moved it and almost got myself in hot water with Cruz.” She admitted, knowing it was more deeper than just his things on the chair, but the fact that he couldn’t deal with change at the moment.

When Antonio first found out that Sylvie was living with guys, one who was her ex-boyfriend and one who used to have a crush on her, and he only knew Otis had a crush on her because of Gabby, he was jealous. But then he realized that he didn’t have a right to be jealous.

He nodded his head, knowing that in a few minutes their conversation was going to go from light to intense. And it was his fault. But he also wanted to be happy again.

“Do you want a drink?” She asked.

He nodded his head, thinking that may ease him a little bit. One thing Antonio hated talking about was his feelings and that was where this was heading.

She opened the fridge and grabbed two beers from the fridge. She closed it and then handed it to him. “Good thing about having guy roommates, they keep the fridge stocked with beer.” She smiled slightly, causing Antonio’s heart to flutter.

He looked away from her as he opened the beer bottle and he took a swig. As he placed his beer on the counter, he inhaled a deep breath.

Here goes nothing, he thought.

“I messed up, Sylvie. I thought I was protecting you but maybe I was protecting myself more.” He confessed. “After my divorce with Laura, I thought this part of my life was over. I didn’t want another relationship. And then I started to have feelings for you. Even then, I still didn’t want a relationship. Between Laura and my job, I guess I knew this was gonna happen.” He paused, trying to think of what to word what he was about to say next. Sylvie stood there, taking in his words but staying silent. “ But then I thought when we were together, this could work. That Laura wouldn’t mess up what we were trying to built.” He shook his head. “I think that’s where I messed up. I should have known that you spending time alone with Diego would have angered Laura.” Seeing Sylvie about to say something, he held his finger up to make her silent. “Laura was wrong for attacking you over Diego. I was always happy that you found something to bond over Diego with. But I was also wrong putting you in that position. I should have called Laura before that and see if she could pick him up.” Regardless of how he felt about Laura, she was still the mother of his children. He sighed as he walked over to her. “Like I said she was wrong and she knows it but I was more wrong on putting you in that position.”

Sylvie shook her head. “I was also wrong for yelling at you when you apologized.”

He nodded his head. “I think I was just happy that I finally found a woman that not only accepted that I was a father but wanted to get to know my children.”

“You know.” Sylvie said biting the inside of her cheek, nervously. “I think I was more upset at the fact that she accused me of using Diego to get closer to you.”

He shook his head. “I think Laura was just upset that you wanted to spend time with the kids and her rich boyfriend doesn’t.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I think I was more defensive at that because I don’t want you to think I’m using the kids to get closer to you.” She admitted softly.

“Well, I know you aren’t using the kids because trust me, no woman would ever learn how to play chess to bond over with. I want you guys to have a friendship especially because all of this is a delicate situation.” She nodded her head, wondering what all of this meant, what it meant that he came to her apartment.

He must have read her mind because his next words were, “anyway, I want to forget about Laura. My relationship with Laura has nothing to do with us. I guess that’s the reason why I’m here.” He looked around her apartment for a few seconds and then he looked back at her. “To be honest, I’m not even sure what led me to your apartment.”

“Hey. How did you know where I lived? She asked. Ever since their breakup they hadn’t talked so she didn’t tell her. "Gabby. She told me when you first moved in.” “Should have known.” She didn’t think Gabby would have told him but he was her brother after all.

“Like I said, I’m not sure what led me here…but uh, I miss you. Ever since we broke up, I kept myself busy with work and the kids to prevent myself from missing you.” He admitted. “But then I went to the district to drop off a file to Voight and I saw him so distraught with missing Justin and then it hit me. He can’t do anything with missing Justin. He will always miss him and then I thought about you. I don’t have to miss you. I’m choosing to feel this way, I’m choosing to stay away from you.”

Sylvie was surprised at his confession. She knew it was wrong to feel like she was the only one missing their relationship but she thought she was. “I miss you too. I think that’s why I moved in here with Cruz and Otis, besides my landlord being an asshole, I needed to be close with my friends and they helped.”

“It is a nice place.” He complimented. “Although, truth be told, if it wasn’t Cruz and Otis you were living with, I think I would be slightly jealous.” He admitted.

Sylvie laughed and she tilted her head to the side. “So, you’re saying that you aren’t jealous at all?” She questioned.

“Oh, I am.” He confessed. “But I also know that after what happened with Cruz, you’d never date anyone you work with again and definitely not when you’re living together. Too much of a mess for you.” He said, closing the distance between them.

“You would think if I like my life being simple I wouldn’t have dated my partner and friend’s brother.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, our relationship happened unexceptionally. I never thought I would ever date Gabby’s friends, much less—-” He shook his head, almost letting the words slipped. As much as he loved the lightness the conversation got, he knew once he let those words slipped, it was going to get serious.

Sylvie noticed that he stopped in mid-sentence. “What?” She asked, curious to know what he was about to say.

“I think we sort of got off topic there. We can revisit this conversation at a later time, but I think we have other important matters to discuss.”

She nodded her head, agreeing. “You’re right.” She said as she backed up away from him. She hadn’t been this close to Antonio since they broke up, and now she realized just how much she missed him. But before she could say that, she knew they needed to discuss their relationship, or well lack of. “I know the Laura situation isn’t going to get any better—-”

“It isn’t.” He nodded his head. “But like I said, my relationship with Laura—my issues with her— has nothing to do with us. She knew she could break us up because even as happy as we were at the time, the relationship was still new and fresh and because of that, we probably would have ended it without fighting for us.”

“To be fair though, what could I have said when you felt like our relationship was a burden on you and your busy life?” That may not been the best way to word it, but truthfully, she was still hurt.

“I never said that, Sylvie. I just said you deserve better than what I can give you. I still feel like that.”

“Then why are you here?” She asked as she started straightening up the mess in the living room, even though the room was already spotless. But she needed to do something to keep her mind from going insane; from thinking about that awful night.

“I’m here because as I watched Voight in pain from losing his son, I realized he wasn’t only hiding his feelings from everyone, but so was I. And not only was I hiding it from the world, but I was hiding it from myself. I thought if I kept myself busy enough, soon I would get over you.”

Sylvie walked over to the counter and started wiping it down. “And did it?” She questioned.

“No.” He admitted, causing Sylvie to stop what she was doing and look at him. “I think the reason is because I never expected to develop feelings for you. Even before we got together, I tried to push you away because I knew how complicated my life is. Even then I couldn’t stay away from you.”

“But I mean, I was the one who came to Molly’s and made you listen.” She reminded him. “I think if I left you alone, we wouldn’t have even started a relationship.”

Antonio laughed. “And you think I was at Molly’s just for a drink?” Antonio may love Molly’s and love hanging out there, but that night he had a different agenda on his mind and it was the blonde standing right in front of him. “I knew you were off and I knew you would eventually show up. You just happen to come to me before I got the chance to talk to you.”

“You mean—you were there for me?” She asked.

He nodded his head. “It’s like as much as I try to stay away, as much as I try to reason that you are too precious and too pure for my life, I can’t stay away. And maybe a part of the reason why I can’t stay away is because I don’t want to.”

At this point, Sylvie gave up trying to distract herself by cleaning up. “What does this mean then?”

“I think—” Antonio walked over to her and grabbed her hands. “I think I’m tired of being unhappy. I was so happy being with you. Even when I was making the transition from being a detective to a states investigator I wasn’t nearly as stressed out as I should have been because you were there.”

“And then Laura had to ruin it.”

“But maybe this time we won’t let her ruin it. Laura will always be a problem, I won’t lie about that, but she’s only the mother of my children now. She’s my past, but you—-you’re my future.”

“I’m scared, Antonio. What if we try again and then something happens and you want to break it off again?”

“Hey, there is nothing that is going to happen to make me want to do that again. I learned my lesson and even though I feel like you deserve better than what I can give you, I know I want to be with you.”

Sylvie smiled and she nodded her head. “I want to be with you too.”

Antonio smiled and he leaned forward, kissing her softly. Not kissing each other for a few months, the kiss deepened within a few seconds.

Sylvie pulled away, causing Antonio to groan. As he looked at her with a questionable look, she placed her hands on his face. “For the record, you’re the only one in this relationship that thinks I deserve better. So please stop thinking that I deserve better. I deserve you and in my eyes, I could never have a greater man than you in my life.”

And with that said, Sylvie leaned forward and gave him another kiss.

#1 Coffee

A/N: I’m skipping the usual head for fics, because we all know this will be all Linstead all the time. I will also be tagging all fics with mw: 50tl, so you can find them.

Please review, it will make me write the rest faster ;)

Prompt #1: Coffee - He memorized her order the first day they met.

Word count: 1098

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a series of linstead au’s (pt. 1)

so, this happened by accident, and there’ll probably be more in another couple of days and i only cried writing one of them. 

some of you might remember mentions of “keller” from previous meta sets. just so there’s no confusion, he’s a random addendum and i like him.

disclaimer: #sorrynotsorry

Jay Halstead as a former Marine sniper and now first-time attendee of the Summer Olympics. Being heralded as one of the most anticipated athletes of the year as he lent his wartime combat experience to three separate Shooting disciplines. Alvin accompanying him as his longtime mentor and first coach.

Erin Lindsay as a returning athlete for women’s Boxing, having won a bronze medal eight years ago and planning on bringing home gold this time. Antonio as her coach since she started her Olympic venture and Hank as her surly father-figure of a security detail, there to look out for both her and Antonio after Erin’s split from the Fletcher family.

They meet in the stands of the first women’s beach volleyball tournament when Hank and Alvin spot each other from afar, having saved each other’s lives during the Korean War. Erin and Jay steal away to get food, leaving the old war buddies to their reunion.

It’s no surprise when the two groups switch flights to fly home together, Jay with two gold medals and Erin towing a silver that doesn’t smart as badly as she thought it would. Of course, the pleasure in Jay Halstead’s smile when she evicts Alvin to go sit next to Hank helps a lot.

Jay Halstead as a discharged veteran, traveling through America with nothing but his motorcycle and Keller’s dog-tags. Breaking down outside of Rivers Church, Nowhere in the middle of the Midwest and walking his bike back three miles to the dot-on-a-map town. Feeling something twist in his chest when he meanders into the only auto shop and she has green eyes, a black tank top, and the most endearing smudge of grease across her forehead he’s ever seen.

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anonymous asked:

linstead + hospital

Good grief. 

Anon, I hope you like how this turned out because these frakkers got super long. 3 and 4 have to be upwards of four hundred words. Apparently, I’m not cut out for writing angst in summary.


Not many cops appreciate the need to visit a hospital and the intelligence unit is no exception. Hospitals mean one of two things—a suspect/victim needs to be questioned, or one of their own has been admitted. It’s the latter that makes them balk. Erin’s most visceral memory of hospitals before Jay is from when she overdosed as a teenager, trying to escape the grief, and the only thing that kept her from succumbing to her own stupidity was Hank’s gravelly demands that she keeps fighting, because he’d lost Camille, he was not losing her too. For Jay, he will never erase the memory of slowly bleeding out in a rudimentary infirmary, trying to reach for his brother, for Keller, while the medics fight to save him and Gerwitz, because Keller was already lost. Their job just reinforces the belief that hospitals mean loss. The smell of antiseptic, the white walls, and the stark waiting rooms become the stuff of nightmares.


Someone catches Hank off-guard. Some man in a gray hoody and a scuffed 9mm steps out behind Hank and Antonio while the hunt a suspect, takes two shots, and then disappears before Antonio can return fire. The desperate call for back-up comes over the radio and Erin nearly gets herself and Jay into an accident in the process of changing their route to get to Hank. Her partner doesn’t try to offer words of comfort because they both know there are none that will make this better. Erin almost forgets to put the 300 into park when they arrive on the scene, throwing her door open and willing herself not to vomit as the shouts and sirens in the air hit her. Antonio trots over to meet them—there’s blood on his face, his hands, staining his clothes—and tells her that Hank’s been rushed to Chicago Med, but Jay’s the one to ask about the shooter, his hand fisted in the back of Erin’s coat to keep her attention centered. And later, Jay firms his jaw and gets between his partner and the surgical ward when she wants to storm through, weathering without a word when she pounds against his chest with her palms. “Move, Jay, move. I’ve gotta be there, I have to be with him, Jay. Camille’s already gone and I can’t lose him too.” It’s almost midnight before a nurse comes to take Erin back—everyone knows who Hank is and who she is to him—and Jay tells her to go when she looks back at him. (He waits in the hard chair the rest of the night and tries not to let himself think.)


Erin can’t hear anything but white noise. Her palms burn from where she had to catch herself on the asphalt, knees in a similar state, as she turns over, trying to grasp the situation. The car—she still doesn’t know where it came from—is gone and—where’s Jay? Her scrambled thoughts struggle to piece together what had happened and then Erin focus, sees his body sprawled across the concrete, leg at a wrong angle, and her heart stills in her chest. They hadn’t seen it coming, he’d noticed a moment before her and had given Erin a shove to get her out of harm’s way. “Jay. Jay.” Erin crawls across the pavement, too shaky to stand. (She doesn’t remember hitting her head, but she doesn’t remember the sound of the impact either.) All Erin can see for a moment is blood, dripping from his mouth, a wound to his forehead, his ear. Jay doesn’t respond when she tries to rouse him verbally, but Erin knows better than to move him. Secure the area, call 911, don’t move the victim in case of spinal trauma. It’s only the numbness that gets Erin through dialing, giving the address, saying they’re Chicago PD. If she thinks, she’ll stop. The minutes she spends sitting there on the ground next to her partner are unfathomable, innumerable. Jay’s chest rattles with his every breath, but he’s breathing. Keep breathing, baby, please. “He got hit by a car, I didn’t see it, no, I haven’t moved him.” Erin knows the looks on their faces—it isn’t good. The EMT’s try to separate them and she’s shaking her head. “No, he’s my partner, I’m coming too.” Will has to hand his brother off to Rhodes when they get there and Erin’s grateful because he’s there to grab her when her knees give out. Erin finds herself alone in a recovery wound, the wounds on her hands, knees, and temple cleaned and bandaged and the numbness collapses into the jarring reality that her partner got hit by a car. Hank is there later to take her to see Jay and he’s battered, bruised, and broken (five ribs, leg) but awake and grasping her hand. Rhodes explains that he’ll be fine and that’s all Erin needs to hear. She wants to say something smart but there aren’t words so she leans her forehead into his—bandage to bandage—and just breathes.


Jay stands at the sink and pumps soap into his palm with unnatural precision. The water is burning hot but he doesn’t turn it cooler, shoving his hands into the stream and watching the basin turn red as the blood washes away. He scrubs at his hands, his forearms, and wants to pull the shirt off his back except he doesn’t have a spare. Erin’s blood is cooling against his skin and Jay takes a deep breath to stave off nausea, because he has to go back out to where the team is waiting—for news, for him—but he just wants to slide down in a corner and ride out the anger, the grief, the helplessness. It’s one thing to know that this was likely to happen, because this is their job, but it’s another thing when he has to spend twenty minutes keeping his partner from bleeding out while making sure they aren’t overrun by gang members with nothing to lose. Jay finally looks at himself in the mirror, not wanting to meet his own gaze, and seeing the blood also smeared across his face. It’s another fifteen minutes until he emerges to face the unit, skin scrubbed raw. Antonio is outside, settling a hand on his shoulder, wordless, and walking back to the waiting room with Jay. Hank looks like he’s aged another five years, Atwater and Ruzek converse in undertones and Burgess and Roman are just arriving with Platt in tow. Jay finds a chair in the far corner and sits down in silence, eyes closed, to suffocate until he knows that she’s going to make it, that she’ll be okay. Three bullets—he can still hear each one’s impact—two in her stomach, one through her left lung, and he’ll never forget how it sounded to listen to her try not to scream. Then, Erin’s finally out of surgery, so much time later, and the doctor asks for her family, looking at Voight (who doesn’t know about Sergeant Hank Voight and the woman who may as well be his daughter, in this city) but his sergeant looks across the room at Jay and says, “Take him back to her.” And Erin’s so pale that she’s gray, with an IV and a morphine drip, but Jay just cares that the heart rate monitor blips steadily and that she twitches when he presses a kiss to her forehead.


And there are too many other times, gripping cold, limp hands between shaking palms, begging without words for a glimpse of familiar eyes, a hint of a smile. Sometimes it’s hours before they make it to the hospital, making makeshift bandages and splints to keep the other alive. Jay carrying Erin down dozens of flights of stairs because she’s not breathing, stopping to force her heart to beat, push air into her lungs. Erin having to drag Jay out by his hands, gasping because of the bullet in her thigh but having to keep going because she can’t defuse the bomb and she’ll never leave him behind—never again. All end in days or weeks at the hospital and when they finally go home, it’s enough of a relief to close their throats with emotion.