Erin slides her key out of the lock and turns the handle. She doesn't remember how she got here, having driven from Voight's on auto pilot. She had intended to spend the night there, to watch over him and seek comfort in the nearness of Camille's memory, but Hank had told her to go home. He said he was okay and just wanted to be alone. So she obliged and now finds herself outside her own door.
She hesitates before pushing it open, thinking now that she should have gone to Jay's, that maybe being alone right now wasn't the best idea. But her dress clothes are uncomfortable and heels killing her. So she decides to go in and have a shower, then maybe she'll text Jay and see if he's up to putting up with her tonight.
She pushes open the door. Her senses let her know something is off before her tired mind can kick in. Slowly things click into place. The light in the hall is on when she knows she shut it off when she left for the courthouse this morning, the glow of the tv lights the living room, the sound of a hockey announcer fills her ears and a figure on the couch stirs at the sound of her entrance, rising and moving to greet her. Erin exhales when she realizes who it is. Relief washing over her.
She approaches the figure with deliberation. "Hey," his deep voice welcomes her but Erin doesn't pause for pleasantries. She steps right into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in his neck. She takes slow deep breaths. His smell saturates her nostrils, soothing her. The warmth of his arms coming around her comforting her.
They stand like this for a long time. Erin finally releasing the tension of holding her grief, her anger, her need for vengeance at bay while she supported Hank through the trial.
Here she is safe. Here she is no longer needed to be strong for the forty two women who trust in her and the rest of the team to bring them justice, no longer needed to be a competent investigator testifying on the witness stand, no longer needed to be the shoulder to lean on for her grieving father figure, the scabs ripped of his six year old wounds. Here she can just be Erin, the girls who's own wounds are raw and exposed. The girl who lost the closest thing she'll ever have to a real mom.
"I miss her." Erin whispers.
"I know. I figured maybe you'd want company tonight. Hope you don't mind me letting myself in." Jay's voice is soft against her hair.
"No, I'm glad you're here. I was gonna shower than call you." She mumbles into his neck. She's not ready to let go just yet.
Jay kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry you had to relive all this."
"I'm sorry Hank had to relive it all."
"How's he doing?"
"Okay, said he wanted to be alone."
"And you? How are you doing?" He says, pulling back slightly to look her over.
Erin shrugs. "She was more a mother to me than Bunny will ever be. I miss her. And I'm pissed. What if he made things worse for her? What if she could have had more time? Suffered less?" Jay looks like he's at a loss for words. She doesn't really expect him to have answered to these questions. She knows she will likely never know if that sick bastard robbed Camille of her dignity and time with her family. Then her brain clicks over. God she could be so so insensitive at times. "Jay, I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you."
His face turns to confusion. "What? Why?"
"I wasn't thinking. I've been so caught up in making sure Hank was okay and those poor women and my own selfish grief. It's not really fair to dump this on you after what you went through with your own mom." Erin dips her head.
Jay pulls back in surprise then cups her chin with his hand, lifting her head until their eyes meet. "Hey, it's okay. I'd like to think that maybe that's exactly the reason I'm the best person for you to share all this with right now?" He caresses the side of her face with his thumb and gives her a sympathetic smile.
Her heart aches for his loss too. She imagines what it would have been like for him watching his mom deteriorating like she did Camille. "Thank you." She offers, looking him in the eye.
He nods and holds her gaze a moment longer, neither of them needing words to express their empathy and support of the other.
Erin goes back to resting her head against Jay's shoulder. His hands move up and down her back. She tries to focus on the warmth and rhythm of his movements rather than how overwhelmed she is from everything that's happened.
/
When he heard her key in the door he was relieved. He knew she'd gone home with Voight after the verdict to make sure he was okay. But he also knew his boss and knew as much as he loved Erin, he'd want some time alone now that the trial was over.
The question had been what would Erin do once she left Voight's? He'd tried to tell himself he'd wait for her to reach out to him but deep down he knew he couldn't wait this time. He wasn't about to let her fall in a hole of grief again because he was too busy trying to respect her space to give her the support she needed.
So he'd gone to her place and used the spare key she'd given him to lock up with a few weeks back when Voight had called her at four am to go to a crime scene. Jay had been happy to stay sleeping in her bed and meet them at the district later. And maybe he'd just "forgotten" to give it back and maybe she had "forgotten" to ask.
When she'd come in and practically bowled him over with a hug he knew he'd made the right call.
And now here he stood with her still wrapped up in his arms. He could feel her heartbreak, this case had brought to the surface far too many painful memories of watching his own mother loose her battle with cancer. He pushed that away for now. Tonight he wanted to be here for Erin. He was so proud and in awe of her. She'd worked her ass off with this case and he knew it wasn't easy.
Erin pulls back to look up at him again, "I'm gonna grab a shower." Jay nods, placing a gentle kiss on her lips before releasing his hold on her. He watches her shuffle off to the bathroom, shedding her jacket and shoes as she goes.
He heads to the kitchen, setting about making her a warm drink and something to eat. He knows Erin and knows the first thing to go when she's upset is her appetite. As he places the sandwich and tea on the coffee table she comes padding out of the bedroom in her comfy pjs. "What's this?" She asks.
"Figured you probably haven't eaten anything since the bagel I grabbed you while the jury was deliberating." Jay says as nonchalantly as he can manage.
She smiles at him. "That's sweet of you. Thanks." She plops down on the couch and begins picking at the edges of the sandwich and placing them in her mouth while he watches her. "She use to cut the crusts of Hank's sandwiches" Erin announces unexpectedly. "Hank Voight." She laughs. "One of the most intimidating men in Chicago, maybe even on earth and his wife use to cut the crusts off his sandwiches." She's giggling now. "I always think of that when he's up in my face, trying to bend me to his way of thinking." Erin looks up from her plate, mischievous grin on her face. Jay can't help but smile. "But as tough as he thinks he his, it's Camille you didn't mess with." Erin's smile fades. "She was amazing. Never batted an eye when Hank went off on one of his rants. Never hesitated to put him in his place. She was never intimidated by him. And he would do anything for her, anything. It was so foreign to me you know?" He voice drops off at the end as emotion takes over.
Jay smiles and reaches out to caress her cheek. He loves that she's sharing with him. Wonders if she has any idea that he, like Voight, would do anything for the woman he loves, anything for Erin. "So if I tell you my mom use to cut the crusts off my sandwiches you gonna laugh at me too?" He offers her an embarrassed grin. But his comment does the trick and she's back to smiling and laughing.
She points a finger at him and through giggles announces "I am not, under any circumstance, going to spend the rest of my life cutting crust of sandwiches for you Jay Halstead." He can't help but bubble over with mirth at this remark. Not only is he now going to spend all his time trying to coax Erin into making him sandwiches and cutting the crusts off but he's excited by the information Erin has revealed in her statement. Erin Lindsay is thinking about spending the rest of her life with him.
He takes the empty plate from her hand and places it on the coffee table. He cups her cheek and kisses her long and deep, telling her with absolute certainty that he's up for a lifetime of arguments over sandwich crusts and and nights spent cuddling on the couch, finding comfort in each other's embrace after hard cases open old wounds.