A/N: I'm really unsure about this chapter... sounds promising already hey? But I wanted to get something up... and something was urging me to write this and here we go... I'm not sure how accurate I got Jay. I don't know why but he is a bit of a difficult character to write for? Erin and Hank are very passionate and I'm not saying Jay isn't but I feel sometimes he DOES sit on the sidelines with things. If that makes sense?
Anyway I would really love your feedback and if you have constructive criticism than let's hear it! Just please don't pick apart my writing. Thank you in advance!
Please enjoy!
I don't own the characters or the show or anything - I just like playing with them ;)
Erin takes a step back – because she knows if Jay's hands remain any longer on her, then she will be hit with everything he is feeling. And she feels enough guilt as it is. Perhaps it is selfish, but Erin doesn't care. She only cares about Nadia, and Nadia is dead.
Erin looks evenly at Jay, and he returns it. She is very good with manipulating her expressions to pinpoint exact reflections of her mood and thoughts, but tonight, Jay is better at it than her, and she is the one who looks away first.
"Hank's inside, no doubt. Have a good chat," She bites out, and then takes a step in a futile attempt to move past Jay.
His arm shoots out, and she pulls herself up short just before she runs into it.
"I'm not here for him." Jay says, his voice hard but calm. A paradox, almost.
"Well, you can't be here for me. Because I'm not here." To make this statement true, she attempts to leave again, pushing at Jay's arm. He suddenly shifts, and his fingers are soon curled around her arm instead, holding her in place.
Erin clenches her teeth together and glares, but Jay does not back down. Instead, his own jaw tightens and his eyes- bloodshot, she notices now – narrow.
"That is true – just not how you meant."
"How about you just say what you mean, Jay, and stop wasting my time?" Jay does not rise to the bait. Sometimes Erin will give him attitude, and he will laugh at her and refer her to her as 'Voight' for the rest of the day. He does not do this now, because it will not make her laugh, or annoy her to the point where she refuses to speak to him, until he comes up with some foolish way to end her silence. No, this is not some game. Jay rubs circles into Erin's skin, and her eyes almost soften. Jay takes a breath, and dives.
"I mean that you are here. You're standing in front of me, and I'm touching you. But you, Erin, you're not here. You remember when I said that I didn't care where you were, because I wasn't your boss?"
Erin blinks, whether it's because he's bringing it up or because of his forwardness, he's not sure. Maybe it doesn't matter. Erin blinks at him, and when she makes no move to deny it, Jay presses on.
"Well now I do."
"I'm touched. Nicely played. Have you been reading Trudy's novels that she hides in the third drawer?"
Jay's fingers stop against Erin's skin, and for a moment he raises an eyebrow at her.
"Wait, really?"
"Really," She confirms, and her lips twitch as she speaks.
"How do you know this?" Jay asks, suspiciously, and Erin just smirks at him with the smallest quiver in her brow. It is easy now, to bring up meaningless things and to smooth and cover what's going on. Erin is offering him the way out, but he doesn't want to take it. Not even selfishly. There is nowhere he'd rather be than her, even if she is doing what she can to hurt him – to push him away.
"I'm not here for Hank," Jay says, and Erin tenses, "I'm here for you."
"Thank you. But – "
"You're fine?" He cuts her off, and answers for her.
Erin doesn't say anything, because she is not a liar. She may sneak, and stall, but when confronted with the truth, Erin Lindsay will not lie.
Jay waits for her to say something, but since Erin cannot deny it, she can say nothing. Jay nods in acknowledgement of this.
"I'm glad you're admitting it to yourself, at least." Jay spins her around, so that they are now facing the house.
"Come on, Erin. Sleep it off –"
Erin yanks her arm out of Jay's grip and spins back to face him.
"Go to bed, it'll all be better in the morning, right?" She almost yells at him. It is the anger that is causing a higher pitch in the volume of her voice.
"I didn't say that." Jay tells her calmly, patiently. This stumps Erin for a moment, and in that moment she realizes that she wants a fight. She wants someone to be naïve and tell her that it will be okay – just so she can turn around and tell the person exactly why it wouldn't be. She wants to tell them how unfair it is, that Nadia had gotten out of the life she was. She'd gotten out, and was even accepted into the academy. That she had joined the other side to stop what she had been coerced into.
Until, of course – she had been murdered, raped, tortured. That is how this ended, and that is how she would be remembered. Erin shakes her head, forcing herself out of it this time. The other times, she feels as if it's a punishment to think about it – that it is what she must do to atone for getting Nadia killed.
But right now, she needs to be able to think a little more clearly than she had been, so that she could serve herself well in arguing her points, and leaving.
"You implied it! I'm not going in. You can if you're so tired. I don't have a job anymore, so –"
"Erin, stop." Jay commands, and there is something choked in his voice that causes Erin to obey. Jay swallows, and continues.
"I know what you're doing. You're looking for a fight, and I'm not going to give it to you. You're looking for a way out – and I'm also not going to give it to you." Jay looks at her, as if to make sure she's understanding what he is saying. She's not sure what the reason is – perhaps there are many – but his words are almost fuzzy and she cannot reach them. Or, they cannot reach her. Jay takes a step forward, hand outstretched. She takes a step back and watches him as he tenses, alert and ready to give chase. Like she is the frightened animal, and he the rescuer trying to coax her to come to him, to not be afraid.
Because he would keep her safe and protect her.
But Erin knew the truth – no one is ever safe.
"Goodbye, Jay." She says firmly, and tries not to think how inadequate this goodbye is. It's not even a goodbye – it is , well, it is just her grief. Jay is right, she is not really her anymore. Guilt does that to a person. It does not come in waves like grief does – where one moment you're fine, and the next you have to sit down because you cannot breathe and the pressure is all too much – no. Guilt is a weight that sits on your chest and pins you. It does not come and go, but sits in the home it's made. Guilt is like a tree – there is one root to it, and then it is suddenly growing and branching out, and you are the one who nurtures it by your thinking and feeling – and then it has grown and is looming over you. And until you cut it down, it continues to grow.
Maybe it is different for some, but that is how it is with Erin.
"I don't think so, Erin. For starters, that goodbye sucked and I think even you know that. And secondly, I've given you your space. I forced myself to sit back, and let you do what you needed to do. But – when we found you the other night, and I saw you with – with…" Jay pauses here, and Erin's brow moves as she watches emotions pass across Jay's face. Maybe they are too quick, or, like with Hank, she can't read them anymore – but for whatever reason, Erin has no idea what it means – only that it means something.
Jay continues as if nothing has happened.
"It didn't matter that you were with him. But the bottles… well, I just knew what whatever the hell it was, it's not what you need to be doing. Hank told me he had
but I needed to see with my own eyes. Guess it's a good thing we know you pretty well, huh? God knows where you would have wound up, and with who." Erin flinches.
"You're not my dad." The words slip out, and Jay snorts as if amused.
"No, but I'm your partner. I said I have your back and I meant it then, and I mean it now. I can't sit on the sidelines anymore – that's not me."
Erin looks at him for a moment, and she wishes she had it in her to give him the response that he deserves. But she doesn't have much left in her – and whatever it is, it isn't good.
"Oh no, you should sit on the sidelines. Everyone needs a change."
Jay closes his eyes, and Erin looks out and takes a small step when another hand clamps down on her arm. And then the world is not right, and she is tilting, only to be straightened horizontally.
Jay is holding her across his chest. He does not say anything, even though she struggles and shouts obscenities at him.
Jay just tightens his hold and jaw, and continues inside. The door shuts closed behind them, and then Jay sets Erin onto her feet, keeping a hand on her arm to steady her.
"I guess she gets that potty mouth from you, huh?" Jay says to the darkness, and it is only when Erin finishes glaring at him and yanks her arm away from him again, that a lamp flicks on, casting a soft glow around the room.
It sets a mood that is the opposite of what everyone is feeling.
"Or perhaps I learnt it from her all those years ago." Hank responds, and Jay's mouth lifts slightly, but other than that he does not react. Instead, he is looking studiously at Erin now that she is not shadowed by darkness.
Except, she still is.
He sees it in the lines of her face, in the way that she pointedly ignores them both. Her fists are clenched, and her teeth are pressed together behind her pursed lips. But it is most clear in her eyes; she flicks them up to him and he finds himself almost reeling back from the onslaught of her pain. Her eyes are like angry oceans, but he is a good swimmer and so he does not look away.
Hank is the first to make a move.
"It is late, and this was not unexpected. You may not be a child anymore, Erin, but you're still my child. If I cannot trust you to remain here while –"
"I don't want to. I don't have a problem. I'm grieving –"
"Yes, you are. Which is why you need to be around people who love you. People who will ensure that you're safe during this, and that you don't do anything stupid."
"I don't need –"
"Erin – you were worried about someone spiking your drink." Hank cuts her off. He does not shout this, but says it quietly, deadly. Erin blanches and quickly looks to Jay, who is staring at Hank with an unreadable expression.
"Excuse me?" Jay finally says, and then turns to Erin. The unreadable expression is quickly morphing into anger, and Erin turns an accusatory glare onto Hank.
"Really? I can't believe you would say that –"
"I'm sure he wants to know. Just as I do. What happened there, Erin? You've yet to explain that to me, and I'm very interested in it. But we can come back to that – the point is that you are putting yourself in these harmful situations. Bad enough on their own, but with the company of people like that – downright dangerous and harmful. I know that you feel the need to lose yourself; because that's the only way you can't feel it. But that's a lie. It will never go away. You need to go through it, and then manage it." It's the most Hank has really said, and she feels perhaps the most honest. Because he is right. No matter what she does, it will not go away. Maybe she doesn't want to. Maybe she would do anything to forget every single thing. She was a paradox.
Hank was watching her, gauging her reaction. She didn't want to disappoint.
"Always the optimist." Erin hissed, sounding almost like a snake with the venom in her voice now.
Hank and Erin looked at each other. He was the first to look away, turning a weary gaze onto Jay.
"Can you please take Erin to bed?" Jay almost looked startled, but nodded his confirmation and looked to Erin, waiting for her move.
"Like I'm a child, huh. Isn't that your duty, dad?" Erin snapped to Hank, and he just gave her a humorless smile.
"Like a typical father, I'll sneak in after you're asleep to check up on you." And then he nodded to Jay and disappeared. Erin blinked after him, and then turned to Jay, suddenly not knowing what to say.
"Was that a warning of some sort?" Jay finds himself asking, and Erin just rolls her eyes and turns to the stairs.
They make their way up, and Erin's fists are itching to swing and hit and plough their way through the mass to succeed in the late mission of getting outside. Though even she knows now that she will never get away, and this is what it is – and she must play along, for now. She is almost content with this decision as she lies down, pulling the covers up to her chin.
Jay startles her as he takes a seat on the edge of her bed. She prepares herself to berate him – because she does not need a babysitter- when Jay beats her to speech.
"What happened with your drink?"