Thank you for your reviews. Last update before the Holiday break. Wishing you guys love, happiness, and a full belly! =)

SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.

I own nada.

Erin's POV

My eyelids are closed but it's still so damn bright from the sunlight streaming into my room. I squeeze my eyes tighter to try to block it out, trying to clear the haze from my thoughts. I struggle to remember details from last night. How is it possible I drank enough I can't remember? I decide to snuggle farther into the comforter, not wanting to face reality just yet. Wanting to forgo the headache that will inevitable hit me full force the minute my body acknowledges it's awake. But the fog starts to dissipate, and a sick feeling in my stomach sets in, made worse by a stale smell clinging in the air.

I gulp for air through my mouth, but then I feel the bed move, just slightly, as if someone had sat down beside me. I Look to my left and there's someone in bed with me - someone warm and soft. I hear the slow even breathing against my ear, feel the light smattering of hair against my hand, and – wait a minute. It's Jay. He is in bed with me – what have I done?

Slowly my thoughts begin replaying snippets from last night.

Jules.

The roof.

Jay.

Speaking of which, Jay stirs himself awake and pushes himself up on his elbows. Even with his hair mussed, eyes heavy, and pillow creases running across his left cheek, the guy still looks good. His eyes narrow and a look of total confusion flashes across his face. He wipes the back of his hand against his mouth, then rubs the top of his head several times. He glances around for another moment or two, and suddenly notices me for the first time. Without warning, he jumps out of the bed as if he's been burned.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologizes and begins to pace, with an apparent intention to wear a hole on the floor. "I didn't mean to stay... I guess I drank - we drank - and I thought I had gone to my room, but…"

He is rambling. As I had anticipated, the headaches sets in, and I'm not ready to deal with him on top of everything else.

"Jay…" I say as calmly as I can manage. "You're making me dizzy with all this pacing," I tell him, pushing my palms against my eyes. I starting to feel like a powder keg of emotions that any little thing might cause to ignite. I'm not as stable. I feel like a mess. I feel weak and irrational. And vulnerable. And goddman it, I hate being vulnerable.

Jay stops pacing and looks straight at me. His shirt is askew, riding up slightly to show the perfect ridges of his stomach. "I-I didn't mean to stay over," he says. "I don't want to confuse you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I fell asleep and-"

"Jay, it's fine. You don't need to explain anything. You can just go." The volume of my voice escalates as every part of me wants to expel a whole tide of my pent-up feeling out on him. He doesn't get to play hero. "Why are you still standing here? Go."

Jay doesn't move. He stands there with his hands deep in his pockets, unreadable look on his face.

I stand up on wobbly legs and my hand connects with his solid chest with a thud, and it's nowhere satisfying a feeling as I thought it would be. So I try again, and what pisses me off even more is that he stands there and takes it. He doesn't push back, doesn't try to grab my hands to stop me. He just stands there and accepts it.

"You need to go. I don't need you here," I say. I don't recognize myself or the strange shrill voice that comes from my mouth. The sound of a person slowly losing it. "Just go!"

I'm on the verge of hysteria when my eyes catch the sight of a mop and a bucket in the corner of the room. It's all very blurry but the memories rush back and I vaguely remember throwing up last night - explains the stench in the air. A panicky shock shoots straight through me.

Jay cleaned it up. Or tried to.

I close my eyes, but the alcohol-blurred details continue to play behind my eyelids like a slide show – Jay holding my hair, cleaning up the floor…What was I thinking? But I know I wasn't thinking at all. I was busy trying to drown my grief. I hate myself. I hate him for being…him. I'm so embarrassed I want to disappear. I can feel my face turning hot. It takes me a moment to realize what the burning feeling creeping over my face is.

Shame.

"I threw up last night, huh?" I drop my gaze. I can't look him in the eye.

"Yup."

In spite of his brief response, Jay sounds worried. I look up at him and his face is haggard. Tired. Makes my heart ache. I'm sure my humiliation is showing on my face because he asks, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I will be." I don't say anything else; I can't.

He nods and reaches for something deep in his pocket. He fishes out two white pills. "For the headache," he says and places them on my night stand. "I'm sorry for-"

I shake my head and hold up a hand, halting the words before they can leave his mouth. "Don't."

I should be the one apologizing.

Jay nods and his hand wraps around the door knob, but he stops. I think he wants say something – tell me something meaningless or comforting. But he decided against it and gives me a tight lip smile and slips out of my room.

I groan and fall back on the bed. I want to scream. Hugging a pillow to my chest, I close my eyes and try to remember what happened last night. But everything's fuzzy and unclear, but then I remember Jay. I remember what he said about his dad. I remember the melancholy tone in his voice, which probably mirrors mine when I talk about Bunny. I want to hate him. But it's impossible when he makes me want him. Everything I'm feeling is in such extremes right now that I feel like I'm going crazy.

x

I get to the bullpen and everyone's already there. Hank spins around, half circle, to face me, his forehead's furrowed and wrinkled. With narrow eyes he stares daggers at me. I bet he can see how hungover I look, what with my red tinged eyes, the dark half-moon just below them, and the weariness that's probably stamped all over my face. I probably look like I crawled out from a hole. I take a seat and listen to Hank explain the logistics of our next assignment to the Aedes. Apparently Jay's contact, Mouse, gave us the green-light.

"So he has the blueprint?" Antonio asks.

"Yes," Jay nods from where he is perched on his desk. He doesn't look a bit hungover. Though, I guess I had a head start. "He has the blueprint and other documents he thought we might be interested in," he adds.

"And he is just going to fork it over?" Adam asks skeptically. "This guy has nothing to gain and everything to lose."

"Mouse is solid," Jay says. His voice unwavering. "He wants to see the Aedes taken down just as much as we do. This is not a trap."

"So, how are we playing this?" Alvin asks.

Hank looks around, then straight at me. "My office."

With a nod I follow him and close the door behind me. "Listen, before you say anything-" I begin.

"Sit down." He says. There is a look of concern etched in his brow. "How are you feeling?"

How am I feeling? I try to wrap my head around how I feel, but I'm just not sure."I'm fine," I lie, trying to add as much conviction to my tone as I can.

Hank stares intently at me, eyeing me up and down. "Erin, I don't have to tell you how important this is. I don't have to tell you that we don't have a second shot. This is it." His head bobs up and down. "Things have to go right from the get go."

I nod. "Hank-"

"I have a plan," he cuts in. "But I need to know that I can count on you."

"Hank-"

"You been distracted lately. And from the looks of it, it seems you're back to your old habits."

A small gush of air escapes my lungs. A member of our team died last night. I know there's no time to mourn, but I expected a little more empathy. "I just needed a distraction from everything. I'm good now."

Hank shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is solemn. "I need you to get your head straight so we can make sure what happen with Jules doesn't happen again." He scratches his thumb across his forehead. "This is not a dry run."

"I know," I tell him. "I'm good, Hank."

There's a beat before he says, "We leave tonight."

I spend the rest of the day hydrating and going over the blueprint Jay has drawn up. I look at the crawl spaces and try to memorize exactly where I need to go. It is actually a relief to be busy and to keep my mind occupied on things that doesn't have to do with my personal life. By nightfall I find myself at the loading dock, getting all our equipment ready. I go up to the bullpen and see that Jay and Hank are having a heated conversation in Hank's office. Jay's flailing arms and the gestures reveals how intense their disagreement is. If I were guessing, I'd say Hank is benching Jay yet again from going tonight.

I grab the files I need from my desk and return to the dock. I pull of my Glock 19 to clean it. Anything to keep my mind occupied. But it isn't long before I hear Jay's heavy footsteps descending the stairs. His demeanor is steel and quiet. A stark contrast from what I saw moments ago. I wonder how much of his life he spends masking his emotional state.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"You alright?" He asks, approaching me.

"Okay. Headache is gone." I shrug. The fact that he still here, talking to me, concerned about me after what happened in the last 24 hours, makes the feelings I don't want to have for him real. "Hey, um," I say with a tentative smile. "I never thanked you properly for what you did last night. So, thank you."

Jay flashes me a quick smile, "No worries. It was very therapeutic."

"Cleaning up vomit?"

He smiles, amusement reaching those blue eyes of his. "Maybe not that part. But everything before."

I give him a tight lip smile, and wreck my brain to change the subject. "So I take it Hank is not letting you go, huh?" I ask, though I phrase it more like a statement.

Jay shakes his head. "No." His voice isn't angry in a way I expected to be. "He thinks I should also sit this one out."

"You know; Hank has his reasons. He is looking out for the team. If he thinks you should stay, then maybe it's what's best."

Jay nods. "Yeah." His piercing blue eyes following my every move. "You ready for tonight?"

"I am. It will be just like last time."

He lingers, watching me clean my gun. There is something in the air between us, something unsaid, though I have no idea what it is. Jay opens his mouth only to close it again. His jaw clenches, unclenches, clenches. A moment passes. Then another. And another, but he doesn't say anything. Unexpectedly, he pulls me into a hug. I tense instantly, griping the cotton of his shirt as I feel his breath, warm on my neck. My heart begins thudding beneath my shirt, so much so, that I'm sure he can feel it too.

"Be safe out there, okay?" His voice is deep, but soft – a whisper in my ear.

I nod. "Always."

x

We leave towards the Aedes and I make my go mind blank. I need to focus on this mission. The mood is somber. We all feel a heavy weight sagging on our shoulders. There's a lot riding on the success of this run. About a mile out, we reconvene and Hank goes over a few last minute details. Afterwards he asks, "Any questions?" When no one speaks up, Hank says, "Alright. Get to your positions. We do this for Jules."

Everyone nods and scatters.

Hank turns to me and asks, "How're you doing, kid?"

"Solid," I tell him and show him my steady hand.

As expected, everything goes smoothly. I navigate the pipes and reach the room where the exhaust system ends. I exit through a grate inside an empty room except for a filing cabinet. Mouse said he would tape a USB to the back of it. I search around in the dark and find the small device and tuck it inside my pocket.

As I cross back towards the exhaust pipe, I feel a blinding burst of pain at the base of my neck, and I'm knocked face first into the ground. Then I become aware of a sharp piercing pain on my thigh, and a heavy weight pressing against me. The searing pain spread through my legs and all the way to my toes. I push to get the weight off me, but I can't get up very far. I continue to struggle.

"There's no use struggling."

I feel a blow to the back of my head.

"You're not going anywhere."

However, I continue to fight, twisting. Trying to get the weight off me. Trying to stop the pain that's now spreading up my torso. All my extremities are now throbbing. I struggle and a fist connects to my jaw. I muffle my scream as the back of my head is being pushed, jamming my face further on the ground. I bend my neck as much as I can to find some air, as the full weight on me pins me down. I taste the salt of my sweat running down the side of my face.

I hear a radio beep, then, "I have the trespasser. Sector 7. Third floor. Virus administered."

My adrenaline is pumping and the words don't compute in my brain. I act without thought or hesitation. My fist slams into his face. In the seconds it takes him to recover, I glide from under his weight and come at him from the front, ramming my fist into his chest. He stumbles backwards, and I kick him in the stomach. He doesn't go down, although he is wobbly on his feet. I narrow my eyes at him, bring my knee up, and connect. His crumbling reaction is instantaneous. Shoving him aside, I yank the grate from the exhaust pipe and climb inside.

I crawl as fast as I can, but a flash of blinding pain fills me. An ache splinters through my abdomen and something warm and wet runs out of my nose and into my mouth. I taste copper. Blood. That guard got me better than I thought. I exhale heavily and continue to make my way out. It won't be long before they find him and a lockdown is initiated.

I finally get to the exit pipe, but my body is betraying me, falling apart. Dizziness sets in, nausea, and a crippling fatigue. I look down at my hands, pale and blue. Another gush of blood seeps out of my nose. I push myself out of the pipe and signal with my flash light. Hank is the first one to come for me. I plop clumsily down and the cold water seeps into my boots, but I find it helps distract me from the pain.

"I got it," I mumble. My words sound strangely garbled. I start to walk, but find that I can't.

"Oh my God. Erin, what happened?" Hank asks, his eyes scanning me up and down. "What's all this blood?"

"A guard. He saw me, and..." I'm out of breath. I find that I can't finish the sentence. Before I can even react, I feel myself being pulled apart. No, not apart. Pulled up, arms under my armpits, hoisting me up.

Then I hear Hank's voice boom across the reservoir, "Stay back! Everyone. STAY. BACK."

"What's going on?" I ask. My voice sounds thin; even I can't hear it. I try again, but nothing comes out. As I'm carried away, I find myself struggling to hold my head up. For a moment I wonder how hard exactly that guard hit me.

"Erin, can you hear me?" I hear Hank ask.

I open my mouth to answer him, but a cough begins in my throat and my hand goes up to ease the pain in my chest. There is an old sickly taste in my mouth – iron and salt. Listening to all the voices around me and unable to understand depletes the little strength I have and I doze off. But the sound of Hanks voice jolts me awake. He is telling me I'm going to be fine. His mouth keeps on moving, but I struggle to understand what he is saying.

Then, suddenly, everything is dark. I try to open my eyes, but it is still dark.

x

Jay's voice brakes through the darkness and I'm instantly aware of my surroundings. I'm back at the Refuge. I can feel his presence in the space with me. I listen to his voice and I feel him holding my hand. He is worried, the way his brows are knit together and how his voice breaks, spikes a fright in me. "Stay with me," he keeps repeating. Why is he so worried? I reach into my memories, straining, grasping to come up with an answer, but the thoughts drift around like vapor.

I call out, "I'm not going anywhere." But I don't think he can understand me.

I continue to hear Jay's voice. I can feel that he is very close to me. He keeps repeating, "You're going to be fine. Stay with me, Erin."

I concentrate on communicating with him. "Pocket," I manage to say. I squeeze his hand as tightly as I can. "My pocket." He understands me because I feel him rummage through all the pockets until I see him pull out the USB.

A calm washes over me. My job here is done.

I manage to open my eyes and see Jay hovering above me. His long lashes cover those ocean blue eyes of his, which are a shade darker than I remembered. I notice his clothes are bloodied and I can see the purple-red color covering his hands. There is a puddle of crimson growing around me and I watch it half fascinated, half horrified. I can smell it; metallic, warm and sickly, gagging at the back of my throat. I can't think straight. Where is all this blood coming from? Why am I shivering?

I hear Jay calling out to someone. Suddenly there is a flurry of activity around me. I feel something being placed in my arm. Then Hank is there, holding my hand, touching my face. My hands feel hot now, and I feel like I'm fighting for air. I feel like I'm drowning and my body won't stop shaking. I try frantically to keep my eyes open. It is hard. So hard. I want desperately to stay, but slowly the voices fade to a perfect shade of ocean blue before going black.

Thank you for reading. Happy Holidays everyone!