Tolerance Book III

Chapter Eighteen: Findings

Jays' Apartment

Although Voight and the others had strongly lobbied for Jay to stay with the Sergeant for a while in case King had any more belated surprises in store the young Detective had politely, but firmly, rebuffed all such suggestions. The only compromise he reluctantly agreed to was Al staying with him. His fellow ex-Snipers' rational reasoning that if he was there the others wouldn't have to worry about their friend had eventually been accepted. The moustached man knew however his victory stemmed more from his friends' weariness than anything else. After hearing of the New Yorkers' visit Jay had surprised everyone by not insisting on meeting them as soon as possible. That too told his friends just how depleted the younger mans' reserves were. In fact when Adam had pushed the matter Jay had stated he needed some rest due to a headache. That admission had sent furtive concerned looks around the others. Admitting any infirmity was not a practice Jay tended to engage in. It ratcheted up their worry for the man. On his part however Jay was too exhausted to note how his words effected the others. He was focussed solely on getting rid of the headache with some strong meds and getting a few hours sleep before getting to work on whatever Mouse had been able to find out arising out of the hotel surveillance. His reluctance to go to the Sergeants' residence also stemmed from his reticence in getting into an argument with the older man while he was feeling so rough. He needed to be physically feeling better before he dealt with his Superior.

After arriving at the apartment Al had quickly set about making a cheese sandwich with thick slices of heavily buttered bread and subsequently deposited the food along with a pill bottle on the storage box in front of the couch upon which the young Detective was sitting.

"You want milk or something stronger?" Al asked knowingly, sometimes medical professionals didn't understand just how bad pain could be and those times required alcohol.
"Milk thanks," Jay smiled wanly, a stiff whiskey sounded enticing but he'd refrain.
"Coming up," Al turned back towards the kitchen and tossed over his shoulder before he disappeared, "more whiskey for me!"

Eyeing the closed door as his friend disappeared Jay stifled a yawn. He was beyond exhausted yet he knew real sleep would not be a companion for some time, hence the willingness to take the tablets. With a sigh he took two of the white pills out of the bottle and washed them down with the water Al had provided earlier. The sandwich before him was not giving him an appetite but he forced himself to take a bite anyhow knowing it was necessary if the medication was to do its' job. Heaving a sigh he considered the grim possibilities that now lay ahead thanks to Kings' macabre obsession which it seemed would not be diminished by death. He had not wanted to admit it till now but the Serial Killer had proven an unpleasant fact by the assassination plot against Adams. He had shown that anytime down the line there could be further similar instructions given, the threat in essence had become open ended. There might never be another deadly missive but then again another could be received tomorrow. The uncertainty was Kings' last insidious act against them, and Jay specifically. Shaking his head at the fruitless guessing game King had no doubt hoped to set in motion the auburn haired man resolutely brushed aside the what ifs permeating through his mind. He'd just have to take things one day at a time and the others would have to follow suit.

Al returned from the kitchen with the promised milk in a large glass and a plate containing his own sandwich bulging with chicken and lettuce. Setting the items down he sat across from the younger man and noted that the far away look had finally dissipated. The adrenalin had finally gone. He was back in civilian mode, no longer a living, breathing killing machine. His relief was however tainted by the soul weary expression on his companions' features. Jay was too tired to even put up his usual stoic facade. His exhaustion was etched on his features as he chewed on small bites of cheese and bread distractedly. Clearly the food was not even being tasted, it was simply a means to an end. The seasoned Detective knew the implied trust the Kid was bestowing on him. He was granting Al permission to see him at his most vulnerable and trusted him to watch his six while he was down. The moustached man took that trust seriously. He would make sure the younger man got the rest he needed without any interruptions. Recouping his strength was a prerequisite for dealing with what was to come. A serious conversation with Voight loomed in addition to ascertaining Parkers' findings.