They lay in each other's holds, waiting for daybreak.
They needed each other, desperately needed each other. Or else Jay wouldn't have dialed her number, his hands shaking, wanting everything but to be alone in the endless night. It was memories that haunted.
They needed each other, desperately needed each other. Or else Erin wouldn't have picked up the phone at 1:58 AM, still wide awake, thoughts lingering her mind, occupying every last bit of conscience she still possesses.
When she knocked on her door and the door swung open, she saw his broken form. It wasn't Jay Halstead anymore. It wasn't the Jay she knew and just the sight of the look in his eyes made her want to build back, brick by brick, what the demons around him have damaged. She might as well fix herself along the way.
They shared the same hatred, same confusions, the same inability to understand, to comprehend, why, why anyone would do anything like what they have witnessed, what they have experienced.
He had let her in, closed the door behind her and headed back into his bedroom without another gesture, another word. She wanted to talk, she needed to talk, but she knew to listen.
His thoughts skipped from one place to another, as so did his complicated emotions. They weaved into one another until his mind became so heated he wants to force it to shut down, force himself to stop thinking, stop experiencing.
And amid all those emotions there was their lust for each other. It didn't have to be verbally confirmed, they just both knew. They both could feel it's existence, every word that comes out of their mouths for each other, every touch, every emotion.
At times, it was the only thing that kept them sane, kept Erin from breaking down from the weight of her past, kept Jay from exploding over every bit of emotion for memories, for the unfairness of society and the justice they both work until the skies changes tones to conserve but nothing seems to come out of it. Every single criminal caught there was going to be another one on the run, still killing, still hurting, destroying what were families and stealing what's left.
Names, too. Nadia, Ben, the names of every single victim they have failed to save, every bit of guilt and every bit of regret, how they should have went, how they should have seen. It was there, right in front of their eyes, yet they had chose to ignore and caused impacts so big it hurts too much for anyone.
She didn't have to ask to know that he couldn't sleep. The room was a mess and the only thing still intact was a glass of water by his bed, left untouched. She could see him tossing around the sheets and trying to close his eyes, trying to convince himself that it won't happen this time, nightmares won't be here tonight.
She didn't need his words to see, to understand, to feel him.
She joined him on the bed, as soon as she laid down he leaned over and pressed his head against her chest. She could hear, could feel his heart thudding, she could almost see everything going on in his head. And it wasn't pleasant.
She reached over and wrapped her arms around the back of his head, slowly stroking it. He reached over and wrapped his arms around her waist.
They lay in each other's holds, waiting for day break.
