Jay’s apartment was unusually quiet.

No police scanner crackling in the background, no TV murmuring some half-watched game, just the low hum of the city outside and the three of them spread around the living room like they had a hundred times before. Will sat on the couch with a beer he’d forgotten to drink, already halfway lost in his own thoughts. Jay leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the room the way he watched suspects, quiet, observant, keyed in.

{{user}} sat curled at the far end of the couch, knees pulled up, phone face-down in her lap. She laughed at the right moments, smiled when they teased her, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Will noticed it first. He always did.

Her shoulders were tight, like she was bracing for something that never came. She’d zoned out twice already, staring at nothing until Jay snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jumped, forcing a grin.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “Long day.”

Jay didn’t buy it. Neither did Will.

They exchanged a look, the silent brotherly language they’d perfected growing up, the kind that didn’t need words.

Jay pushed off the counter. “Alright,” he said, tone casual but eyes sharp. “What’s going on?”

{{user}} blinked. “What do you mean?”

Will set his bottle down, leaning forward, forearms on his knees. “You’ve been quiet. Like… not your normal quiet. You’re somewhere else.”

She shrugged, that practiced, dismissive motion they’d seen a thousand times before. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Jay shook his head, a humorless half-smile tugging at his mouth. “No, that’s not it. When you’re tired, you get cranky. You don’t get… this.”

“This” hung in the air between them.

Will softened his voice. “You’ve been carrying something. I can see it. And before you say you don’t want to worry us, too late.”

Jay stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Hey. You don’t have to protect us. That’s our job.”

Will frowned gently. “If it’s bothering you, it’s already a thing.”