Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago PD, Chicago Fire, or any song lyrics/quotes contained within. This fanfiction was written for entertainment purposes only, and as such, I am not making a profit (and have no intentions to go 50 Shades mainstream on you guys)

A/N: Kind of choppy this chapter (It wouldn't let me use the normal para breaks, so you guys get random horizontal lines) – but the episodes never tell just one person's story, it bounces back and forth; Why shouldn't this fic be the same way? Also the promo for next week's episode has me really worried about Mouse – I'm starting to like him, don't y'all go doing anything to him just yet! * glares at Dick Wolf *

"Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it." – Ann Landers

It had been a long few months, case after case keeping them busy – the Intelligence Unit's clearance rate (and conviction rate) shooting through the roof, and while she would've liked to have been able to say it was because she had finally came back from family leave, Rachel knew it was really a team effort of some great detectives putting their combined years of service and the knowledge gained from said service together. Burgess' stumbling onto the murder of a little boy (which inadvertently uncovered the past unsolved murder of another little boy and attempted murder of a third child) was tough. It was the first case since coming back that Rachel had had any trouble letting go of after the shift. It felt as if everyone's eyes were on her, watching – waiting to see if she'd lose it again, and there was a certain smug sense of self-pride when she held it together during the duration, bringing Damien Boyd's son home to him safe and sound. The look on the mother and father's faces when they got to hug their child again was what kept her coming back to work day in and day out – although she knew the road ahead of that family would be tough, Damien still had to face the consequences for hiding a murder weapon all those years ago.

It had been until she got back to the division and was cornered by a guy at the bottom of the stairs that she felt herself getting knocked for a loop.

You've been served.

With the handover over a manila envelope, one thick with the papers inside of it, the man was gone and she had to pretend like she hadn't just been served divorce papers (although it was hardly the first time an officer or detective had suffered the same fate in the halls of 21st Division. The divorce rate amongst police was surprisingly high).

Rachel had been expecting it for quite a while, and if she were being completely honest, she was surprised Justin had waited this long. They hadn't spoken in nearly a year now (not counting the one night of catching up soon after his release) – long before Jackson, since before he had even been shipped off with the Army – so when he had finally spoken with her, she wasn't altogether surprised when he mentioned a girl he had met near base, Olive, and knowing Justin's inability to keep it in his pants, she was even less surprised when he mentioned her pregnancy. Apparently, Hank had known for awhile and didn't want to be the one to break the news to his daughter in-law. 'Soon to be EX daughter in-law', she mused to herself, eyeballing the packet of divorce papers resting on the bar in front of her. A part of her wanted to hold on to the anger and resentment, to be furious that Justin could move on to a new 'family' so soon, but quickly came to the realization that their marriage had ended long before the divorce papers had ended up in her hands. More in love with the idea of what they had been rather than what they could have, the rational part of Rachel knew it was time to move on, knew it was unfair of her to hold Justin back from the potential white-picket-fence family he could have with his new woman and child.

Figuring a drink was in order before she made the decision that would take her right back to the start, would wipe the slate clean and leave her with a freedom she hadn't truly had since she was 14 and had yet to meet Justin Voight, she had ventured to Molly's – the only bar in Chicago in which the bartenders knew her well enough to cut her off before she lost any self control.

Mouse had been venturing around the computer after work, watching the steady sureness with which the traffic lights changed from Red to Green and then slowly back to Red again, almost in a trance with the ease of it all. Jay had been leaving for the night when he caught his old buddy staring at the screens and in an effort to keep him from going insane ("Well, any crazier than you already are.", he had joked to Mouse), brought him to Molly's where he planned on meeting up with now on maternity-leave Erin. Truth be told, he worried about his friend often; War was kind to no one but the scars the other man had come back with ran much deeper than he could see, had led to Mouse leading a solitary life – but when he and Rachel had started hanging out, be it just bumping into each other around the district or when they'd all hang out for drinks after shift, Mouse had lightened up, had regained that spark of humanity that Halstead hadn't seen since they first met at boot camp all those years ago. Maybe Erin was right, maybe it was time for her sister to move on – and maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea for Mouse to be at her side while she did so.

He knew something was up the minute he walked in with Jay and spotted Erin in a booth, watching the door as if the President himself was going to walk through it at any minute – glancing to the side for just a split second, just long enough for Mouse to catch sight of who she had peaked at. Trying his best to glare at Jay, Mouse was only able to hang on to the fake-anger long enough for Jay to throw his hands up in defense and motion towards Erin, as if indicating it was all her idea. With a laugh and shake of his head, he patted his buddy on the back and made his way to where Rachel was sat at the bar. Not to say that he didn't get along with the rest of the detectives in Intelligence, but it was nice having someone who understood the need for silence, to focus on anything and everything but what is going on in life at that very moment. Rachel seemed to understand that need for solitude and if anything, her desire for it outweighed his and the two often found themselves yanking each other back into reality.

"Y'know, staring at those papers isn't going to take them into your brain by osmosis, right?"

Craning around to glance over her shoulder, Rachel saw Greg walk towards her, his wide-eyed innocence mixed with a hint of amusement. Just beyond him, she could see the not-at-all subtle way Erin kept shooting her thumbs ups and waving her on while Jay struggled to contain his wife's antics. She had to give the woman credit – When she got an idea in her head, she went all the way with it. Erin had been trying to get her to move on from Justin for months, had never been all that supportive of them being together in the first place, having said on more than one occasion that it was just going to wind up with Justin either in jail or dead and Rachel struggling to pick up the pieces. Neither of them knew at the time just how close to the truth the lighthearted teasing would eventually be. When she had seen how close her sister and the unit's resident 'dumbie', as Atwater had dubbed him, had became, Erin knew it was the prime opportunity to get her sister even a small slice of the happiness that she and Jay were sharing.

"Well, I thought the bourbon might help with that – but if it doesn't, what the hell, at least I'm drunk when all is said and done.", she joked, motioning for him to take the barstool next to her, discretely scribbling her name on the final page of documents before shoving them back into the pocket of her coat slung onto the chair.

"That's one way to look at things.", he teased, motioning for Hermann to cut off Rachel's drink. "But, the booze isn't going to solve your problems, Rachel. Not this time."

They had talked a few times about her struggle with addiction and the way he had dealt with that same urge when he came back from Kandahar, the need to silence the doubts and worries in one's mind in whatever way possible – even if that method would leave them sick as dogs the next day. What the two sitting at a booth not far away knew is that he had seen what had gone down in the lobby a few hours prior, had seen the way Rachel's shoulders slumped ever so slightly when she realized what was happening.

"It's not...I guess...I just suck at letting go is all.", she nodded, almost numbly. Jumping into the great unknown of a future had never been something she had ever been able to do. Even if the plans had been thrown together on the fly, there was still something resembling a plan – but now? Without a husband – even if they didn't care for each other, and without her son – Rachel wasn't sure what her next step was supposed to be and that terrified her more than she'd ever admit to anyone.

"Look Rach, the truth of it all is that unless you let go of the past, unless you forgive yourself and the situation and the people surrounding it, until you realize that the situation is over, you're never going to move forward.", he mumbled, making a forward motion with his hands as she finally pulled her eyes from the now-empty tumbler in her hands and met his cool gaze. She nodded, letting the truth and reality of his words sink in, having already known that it wouldn't be fair to hold to what the past could have been and that she needed to allow Justin to experience what the future could be.

"Hey, I know my sister had Jay bring you here, but honestly, I doubt I'd be very good company tonight.", Rachel replied, glad to see that by the nodding of his head, Mouse agreed with her. The only thing she wanted to do now that the papers were signed and she was sufficiently buzzed was to go home and soak in a warm bath, forgetting about the nightmare that the day had been.

"C'mon then, there were some cabs waiting around out front. Let's get you home, Detective.", he teased, helping her slide the coat over her shoulders once she was off the barstool and guiding her towards the door.

Rachel allowed the feeling of his hand against her back reassure her as she was guided through the usual Friday night crowd and out the front door, knowing she was in for a long phone conversation with Erin in the morning about setting some boundaries in regards to setting her up in the future. There was a breeze outside, just enough to have her pulling her jacket tighter around herself as the duo waved one of the waiting taxis over.

"Hey Mou- I mean, Greg?", she asked using the man's rarely used first name, turning to face him once more before climbing into the cab. "...Thank you, for all of...this.", Rachel laughed tiredly, knowing that he was saving her from not just a hangover but a verbal lashing from Voight should she have shown up back at the house absolutely shit-faced. Stepping forward, she leaned in and pressed a gentle peck against his cheek, feeling something she hadn't even considered before. Turning towards the cab, she was stopped by the sound of his voice behind her.

"Rachel, wait,", he stopped her, using his grip on her arm to turn her back towards him, taking the peck on the cheek one step further and pressing his lips into hers. It wasn't a demanding kiss, didn't ask anything she wasn't willing to give, but it definitely cemented the fact that they were both in over their heads, that their mutual fuckery (as Rachel had once called it) connected them in a way that someone who hadn't been through great tragedy would never understand. Pulling away from her, Rachel could see that hint of the shy Mouse she had first met in the tech room but also the Greg, the man who often hid behind a combination of shyness and awkwardness, one who had stepped in front of a gun to protect his fellow soldier not because it was his job but purely because it was the right thing to do for a fellow human being. "Sorry, I – uh – I've wanted to do that for awhile.", Mouse spoke with a hint of a laugh, matching the soft, but still satisfied smile spreading across Rachel's face. "Now, get in that cab and go home, get some rest. Don't want bossman up our asses tomorrow."

Waiting until she was safely in the taxi and headed towards her temporary residence, Mouse turned to head back inside Molly's, blissfully unaware that the soon-to-be ex-husband of the woman he had just kissed was sitting in a car parked across the street, having seen the entire encounter.