Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Set after episode 3x10 'Now I'm God.' This fic features some Jay/Erin and Kim/Adam.

ALL THOSE RIPPLING CIRCLES

Jay didn't say anything when they went for a drink at Molly's. He could see how far away Erin's thoughts were, how tight her grip was on her glass. So they drank and mostly kept quiet, sometimes talking to friends who passed their table, until, after only a couple of drinks, they headed out together. It was only then Jay intentionally pierced Erin's preoccupation.

"You know, sometimes, a lot of the time, I forget Voight was married."

Erin nodded, not looking surprised or offended. Her expression was more cracked with memories. Jay was sure he wanted to hear all of them but he didn't push. He knew not to.

Erin zipped up her coat, her hair wild behind her in the cold breeze.

"Camille was...they were really happy together, you know? They argued sometimes, especially when I came into the picture, but it wasn't ever...they loved each other so much."

Jay nodded now. Being part of a home where a couple loved each other, stayed together, raised their kids – that must have all meant a lot to Erin. It threw Bunny into even sharper relief.

"I didn't know moms could be like that."

Her words were quiet but Jay felt their ripples. He walked a little closer, taking Erin's hand, loose enough so she could let go if she wanted to. He'd still be there.

Adam was trying to finish an overdue report and Al was still around doing something, writing something? Adam tried to look over his partner's shoulder but Al had all angles covered, of course, so Adam was stuck there, trying to get into a seriously dull report and really wanting to ask and Al was not going to open up that conversation even though he knew, he had to, how much Adam wanted to know.

Thing was, Adam knew how crazed he'd get if anything happened to Kim, if he found out that someone he'd trusted could have been responsible. Made a lot of things about Voight make sense actually. Adam dropped his pen.

"You knew Voight's wife, right?"

Al made a noise of agreement. Okay, Adam could work with that. He abandoned all pretense and turned around fully, still greeted by Al's back.

"If it was me, seeing that scumbag in court, I don't know, man, I don't think I'd stay the right side of the line."

"Crowley and Fischer probably thought the same thing," Al reminded him, not taking the bait, his voice way too even, the sound of a pen scratching on paper punctuating his words. "Now that line of women we interviewed doesn't get any longer."

Yeah, that hadn't been a shining day. Adam thought about Kim, about the wedding date they hadn't set yet and the apartment they hadn't bought together. It bothered her a lot, it tied everything inside of him in suffocating knots. The idea of living without her, seeing her hurt again, that more than bothered him though.

He got why Al had lived in the garage for so long.

"Is it weird that I can't imagine Voight married?" he said suddenly, trying to distract himself from the idea of Kim being gone at all.

"What's weird is that you think this conversation is going anywhere."

"Oh come on, man, I'm not asking for insider information, just-."

"No."

"Al-."

"I'm not doing your report for you either and Pratt isn't going to wait up for it."

"Shit."

Mouse could look. He had the means. But he'd made a point of not checking any of the team's records, he hadn't read up on any of them. Because they hadn't read up on him. Maybe Voight had or maybe he'd just taken Jay's word for it. Voight hadn't said anything or treated him any different or...

Mouse hadn't been married. He hadn't had a relationship that could exactly be termed long-term since...well, okay, he wasn't sure if a couple of them could be termed long-term or not. The thing was, he knew loss, he knew grief. He had nightmares and he was good at ignoring how some people looked at him. Jay never looked at him like that, neither did Voight.

So, except for the parameters of the case, Mouse hadn't read up on Voight or his wife. He'd put alerts on all the team's files so that he'd be told if anyone ever tried to access them.

The news had travelled fast. Sean and Kim had had a lot to focus on at that point and Sergeant Voight was there as Sean was interviewed and interviewed again about the shooting. It was only as it was all starting to wind down that Kim thought with a horrible jolt today the Sergeant watched the doctor who treated his dying wife get put away. And here Sergeant Voight was during the evening, standing with Sean and giving him support.

Sean wasn't even interested in joining Intelligence and after an awful day Sergeant Voight was helping Sean out like he was one of the team.

Kim really needed to see Adam and she needed a drink. She hoped the Sergeant would let her buy him one too.

Antonio had never met Camille Voight. He'd heard a story or two though, from Voight and from Al too sometimes. Not the kind of thing that was told around the office now, maybe because he'd been a married man, like a sympathy story or something. He thought maybe he'd seen a picture once – dark-hair, eyes like Justin, a smile. It wasn't like Voight kept pictures around the office or up on display at home.

Antonio taped up his gloves and stepped up to a bag. He was going to call Laura tonight. Things were broken between them; conversations weren't civil though Antonio was trying for the sake of the kids. He hated how infrequently he saw them; hated the pain that got into their voices because he missed them too, like hell through his heart.

He'd loved Laura, still did sometimes which was why it hurt so much. She might get it, if he called, if he explained. Just knowing she was all right. This life had gotten between them, or Laura's perception of it all had or Antonio not seeing it the way she did. But she was still breathing and he was so thankful, so grateful. It was a hateful thing, after what Voight had gone through and was still going through every day, but Antonio couldn't help that. And he knew that Voight of all people would understand.

In the dark of Jay's apartment, Jay lying beside her, an arm around her that she would probably shrug off soon, Erin thought about Camille. She still had the dress she'd talked to Hank about only yesterday, the one Camille had bought for her, trying to drag her onto a better safer path, and she still had a bottle of Camille's perfume too, in a box deep in her closet, untouched for a really long time, kept because she didn't ever want to forget.

Hank had taken down any photographs of her, Erin got that, she got the need for absence. She just...she really missed Camille, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh and her perspective on everything, how Hank had looked around her.

Camille, her absence, was the reason Hank and Justin's relationship had blown apart. It was still a tender spot that Justin couldn't touch much, even now, even though time in the forces had been good to him, even though he had a kid to tell stories to now.

Erin got that. She and Hank didn't talk much about Camille either. It was like they were all still stepping really carefully around each other's grief. It didn't make anything better, it still hurt. Camille was still gone.

She was gone.

Erin slept fitfully; she didn't know what she dreamed about, only that she was really glad to wake up. When she did, she could hear Jay in the kitchen, making the first coffee of the day, thank God. But there was a pained twist and lurch in Erin's stomach because right now, impossibly, all she could smell was the iris and gentian scent of Camille's perfume.

-the end