A/N- This is my first story, one that I'm sure isn't even good. I am generally pretty private about my writing, but after 4x17, I need to share my imagination.
Chapter 1:
It had been a week.
It honestly felt more than that.
I could always feel his eyes on me. Trying to gage whether I was okay. Whether his words, his leaving, left me damage.
Hank knew something was going on. Hell, virtually the whole district knew something had happened. Burgess keeps asking, hoping that the close bond we have recently formed means that I can talk to her about this.
But if I am being honest, I can't talk to her. I can't even talk to Hank. Because if I admit, even out loud, that I am scared that I let just about the best damn thing to happen to me walk out the door, it makes it real.
And I can't let it be real.
I slam my desk phone back on its hanger. Another lead disproven. We just caught a new case; two girls were raped and murdered within a day of each other. We are still trying to determine whether the two cases were related. But with constant dead ends, we are growing restless, the feeling of being incompetent creeping up within each of us.
I can feel him. I always feel him. It was our thing; I always knew he was around, even without seeing him. I look down to a fraying lace on my boots, taking deep, calming breaths. I knew he wanted to ask whether I was okay, but I could see his trepidation, his concern.
I needed air. I got up, walking to the break room. Leaning against the counter I again to prepare myself a cup of coffee. I honestly lost count on how many I've had already today. It was just as I was adding the sugar that I felt him come in.
"Hey," he says slowly
I could only nod.
"Are you okay? You were a bit angry back there," he asks.
"Thought I had a lead. Went cold," I say softly.
I lift my head up, staring at his face, almost getting lost in his ocean-green eyes. I could see the conflict arising within him. He was deciding whether he should ask. I decided to put him out of his misery.
"Just ask," I whisper softly.
He looks at me intently. As if he was trying to judge whether I truly meant what I said, before finally deciding to just ask.
"How have you been?" he asked softly
"Shit"
I figured brutal honesty suited this situation
"Erin…" his voice was laced with pain, his heart breaking at every word that was shared.
I clench my hands into fists, leaning on the bench with them.
"You don't get to ask me how I am!" I bite back at him. He begun to open his mouth, but I felt there was more that I needed to say.
"You want me to be honest? Well, I've been shit. I roll over in the middle of the night, expecting you to be there, but you're not. I wake to the alarm, because your incessant need to play the radio in the morning when you make breakfast no longer does the job. I fucking miss you!"
"This is hard on me too Erin," he passionately states.
"Then come home!" I yell.
My eyes shot to the doorway, where are gruff voice cleared their throat.
"If you two are done bringing your personal lives too work, we have business to attend to," Hank gruffly comments.
I looked past Hank's shoulder, noticing we had gained the attention of the entire bullpen. They all looked down in shame. I shouldn't have yelled at him….at least not when the people we work with are present.
"Sorry Sarge, won't happen again," I said whilst quickly shuffling out of the room.
I could feel the tears wanting to escape. I sprint to the locker room, not really caring who followed. I burst through the locker room door, rushing to the sink, splashing water on my face. It felt like ice on my reddened skin.
A soft voice startles; "Are you okay?"
I turn around to face her, trying to unsuccessfully wipe away any evidence that I had been crying.
"No, not really."
"Would you want to talk about it?" Burgess asked politely
I shake my head solemnly, but the tears that I had washed away, came flooding back.
"I miss him!" my voice breaking with each word
"Oh Erin," Burgess pulls me into a tight hug, almost crushingly.
"I shouldn't have yelled at him, I told him it was okay to ask me," I sob uncontrollable in her shoulder
"I wish there was something that I could say, that would make you feel better, that would make you both feel better. But there isn't," she says softly, petting my hair like a mother does to their child.
"I just want him to come home."
After our moment in the locker room, Kim helped me clean up, allowed me to make myself presentable.
We were listening to Hank brief us before allowing us to roll out.
"You all know what to do. You keep each other safe and make sure everyone comes home tonight," gruffly Hank said.
I was about to load up in the GMC with Atwater, when Hank grabs me by the arm.
"Are you okay to be out there today," he questions
I reply with an abrupt fine, but I can tell by his face that he doesn't buy it.
"What I walked in on in the Break Room today, is that going to affect your judgement?"
"I said I'm fine Hank!" At this point I was beginning to become annoyed.
He lets go of my arm, allowing me to walk towards the GMC, but I turn when I hear him quietly say something back.
The thing about Hank Voight is that it takes a great deal of effort for him to be kind and calm towards people, unless your family. But ever since Justin, I haven't see this side of him. So, what he says to me, catches me off my already fragile guard.
"Are you two going to be okay?"
I stare at him shocked, unable to believe he just asked me that. He can obviously tell my shock and continues with his question.
"All I am saying is that, I wouldn't have given you the green light, wouldn't have accepted that fact that I was no longer the first person you would run to when things went bad, if I didn't believe that you two wouldn't make," he states matter-of-factly.
I'm glad Jay had already left with Ruzek, because I don't know what I would do if he was here to hear this conversation.
Hank shuffles closer, superiority and power radiating within his stride. He softly places his rough, calloused hand on my shoulder.
"He loves you kid, I would bet my life on it"
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