Hey guys, so I've had a few one-shots in the works and decided to finish this one tonight. It's set after the scene in 1x13 where Erin and Charlie talk, and the only thing to keep in mind is that in this one-shot Erin and Kelly aren't together.

Note: The title of this fic is from the song All Of The Stars by Ed Sheeran, which I've had on repeat for the last couple of days.

Disclaimer: I don't anything but a painful Lindstead obsession.


It's her sanctuary; the gun range. It's her solitude and comfort and is exactly what she needs after seeing Charlie. With each push of the trigger her mind pulses, attempting to rid itself of the infestation of her old life. Her life she no longer inhibits.

The deafening sound of the blow is almost soothing to her now, each gut-wrenching sound bouncing off the thick walls and into every crevice of her soul. Erin knows she should wear ear muffs, as well as goggles; but as she stands with her feet a shoulders-width apart and nothing but a gun in her hands, she knows she needs the release.

The gun recoils in her hand, the cool metal rocking against her palm as she steadies the weapon. Every shot meets its target with undeniable accuracy and she's so focused on the outline metres away that she doesn't hear her partner enter the room.

Jay Halstead finds himself smiling softly at the sight; only Erin Lindsay can use shooting as some kind of therapy and still keep her accuracy record intact. He watches with heavy lids from the doorway as her stance remains firm, following through on each shot as her eyes steady on the target.

"Am I gonna have to become your fiancée again to get an explanation?" He quizzes with a broken voice, slicing through the air and causing Erin to shake slightly as she fires. It's a sloppy shot. With a sigh, Erin looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes, stifling a smile as she does so and hopes Jay didn't see the hint of her curled lips. He does.

"Dreams only come true once, Halstead." She counters with a playful tone, resuming to her position. She knows he's smiling without even looking, but she finds herself wanting to take a look at the stretch of his lips, the curve of his mouth.

As he slowly approaches his partner, Erin fires another two shots, again slightly off target.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who Charlie is?"

With a sigh, Erin lowers her arm and cocks her head toward Jay. "Look, you don't need to... Check in on me, okay? I've got this handled." Her eyes don't focus on him, instead her gaze is averted back to the target in front of her. Jay takes steps closer to her, the soft sound of his boots hitting the ground echoing off the walls.

"You should straighten your back." Erin whips her head to the side to find her partner standing fairly close, close enough that she can hear his shallow breathing. His words catch her off guard; she's expecting him to push for details or beg for more access to her past. Instead, he criticises her stance.

"What?"

"Straighten your back, and bring your elbow up." He urges, quietly moving another step closer. "Trust me."

Erin scoffs and keeps her stance the same, feeling Jay's burning gaze on her. She finds her heart racing with him looking at her like that, and feels the pressure. After a gulp and slow breath, her finger slides on the trigger and the bullet fires in slow motion. Again, it's not a great shot. She wonders what it is about Jay Halstead that makes her so god-damn unfocused.

"Here," He mumbles with a sigh, hesitantly making his way behind her, fumbling with his movements. She feels his two palms on her lower sides, and there's something about the light touch with nothing but the thin material of her shirt that laces her body in shivers. His hands remain firmly planted but he inches closer, and she can feel him pressed against her back.

There's a weakness coursing though her legs, threatening to turn to jelly as she feels Jay's warm breath in her ear. Softly, his finger tips tighten their grip on her waist, and her spine straightens at the change in pressure. Erin attempts to focus on steadying her beating chest with futility as Jay presses himself closer, ensuring her posture remains.

"Good." It's barely a mumble but it's like a symphony in her ear, and she decides in that moment that word has never sounded so earth-shattering before. After a rigid gulp, Jay tests the waters. He slides a hand up with a painfully slow pace, gliding his fingertips to enclose around Erin's that encase the gun. He brings her slightly shaking hand to a steady halt, holding the gun at a precise and perfect angle.

"Shoot." The single word catches in his throat and Erin feels the vibration in his voice, lighting something inside of her. She slides her finger onto the trigger, and to her dismay, the bullet hits its aim with perfection, slicing through the air with resilience. She feels a smug smile from her partner, and loathes herself for giving him the satisfaction of the success.

"Not bad." She feels a series of goosebumps lace her body at the immediacy of his words, and she suddenly feels as though trapped in a void, all the air sucked from their existence.

Jay's body remains pressed against the smaller detective, only two layers of material separating them, and when he peels his skin from hers she immediately feels the loss of warmth. Erin resigns the gun to the ledge and turns her body back to her partner, attempting to conceal a smile while Jay makes no attempt to hide his grin.

There's nothing but hot air between them, and they're stuck back in their usual setting of tension. Aching, burning lust that is almost painful, daggers stabbing her lungs as she wants desperately not to push him away. So she does it; she takes a shot as precise as the one her partner just aimed with her.

"I'm meeting Charlie tomorrow..." It's not much, it's hardly enough. But he breathes in her words and sucks them into his soul.

"I'm there." There's a weightlessness that surrounds them as she feels as though she's falling right into him. Erin wonders in that moment how Jay Halstead knows how to give her life. How sometimes, the world can be swallowing her whole and the brush of his fingers against the back of her hand is all that she needs.

He watches with intent eyes as the ghost of a smile dances across her lips, and although he wants more information from her, he settles in the comfort of a ride-along tomorrow. Because while he knows this guy holds a large portion of Erin's past, dark, harrowing and deep, he also knows that One Day, she'll tell him everything. And that's what keeps him going.

It's probably the most she's ever ached for his touch. Not just in a sexual or romanticised sense, in a purely platonic nature. She needs the physical reassurance that her partner is there and ready to catch her.

So instead of kissing him and tugging at his clothes and moaning his name with new-found certainty, she pulls his body into the comfort of hers and wraps her arms heartily round his neck, holding them in place. She hears his breath catch in his throat- or maybe it's hers; they're gripped so close together it's hard to distinguish between the two. His hands make their way to her waist and breathe in her every movement, and she realises that she was wrong earlier on; Jay Halstead doesn't make her unfocused. He makes her sharper than she's ever been.

Erin decides in that moment that home isn't an empty apartment that greets her after a long day at work, or the hollow locker room when she's vesting up before a work bust, or even a deserted gun range in the dead of night. Home is in the arms of her broken partner, holding her with and unwavering grasp as she clings to reality in the midst of hurdling into oblivion.


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