Author's note: So I know some of you think that my chapter's are too short or that the story is moving too slow, but I am trying to stay true to the story I want to write. I know it's different than my other stories, but really, that's kind of the point. I'm enjoying experimenting with something that's different and new, and because of that, this story has been a lot more difficult for me to write. For some reason BTBR literally came pouring out of me, and this one has just been a little more difficult. I think because I don't want to use anything I've already done and so it's a lot harder to come up with fresh things every time. That and my schedule has changed. If you would like to wait longer between chapters so that they're longer, just wait until I publish two and you can read them in a row :) Maybe that will help lol.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

Chapter 7,

Erin's POV

Everyone cleared out of the room quickly when I walked in, leaving the air charged between me and Jay. He was staring at my expectantly, questioningly, and I could tell he must have heard the waver in my voice when I said hi to Bobby, the one I had hoped only I had heard.

Evidently not. "Hi," my voice came out raspy, but at least it was clear this time. "Are you hungry?" I said, hoping to change the subject. We had barely exchanged ten words since laying eyes on each other, and I wasn't ready for those to be words eleven through twenty.

Jay seemed to be appraising the situation, deciding exactly how badly he wanted to pry into that exchange. But then after a moment, he seemed to dismiss it altogether, almost as if he was placing it in the we'll get to it at some point, but it's not worth getting into right now category.

He couldn't possibly have known how many things I had been stashing in that category.

"Starving," he answered, the rasp in his voice matching my own. His voice seemed deeper to me, more real.

Maybe that's just because it was real. I was no longer just hearing it in my dreams.

"Good," I smiled, trying to hide my sigh of relief. I avoided his gaze and began moving the rolling tray table over to his bed so he would be able to eat comfortably. "I brought your favorite."

While I adjusted the table, he adjusted his bed into a seated position. The silence that overtook the room was not the comfortable silence we had shared only an hour before; instead, it was awkward, uncomfortable, and loaded.

I could sense that he wanted to ask me questions almost as badly as I wanted to interrogate him.

But if he could exercise his self control, so could I. I would save the questions, and file them away for another time.

Even as they continued to sprout one by one in my head. Questions like, where the hell had he been?

And how on earth had his body been confused with someone else's?

Ever since I heard the sound of his voice on the other end of my iPhone, I had been going over and over the day of the funeral in my mind. The Colonel wouldn't allow me to see his body, and I assumed it was because they didn't want me to experience the trauma of seeing his unrecognizable face.

But now, I wonder if it was something more. They military had ways of identifying their soldiers, and they had assured me that they had reviewed the dental records before declaring Jay deceased.

Hank had quite literally asked.

But as I stared at my husband sitting across from me, taking the first bite of his burger, I couldn't help but notice that all of his teeth were perfectly intact.

"Oh my god," he sighed into the sandwich, closing his eyes as he savored the bite, looking as if this was quite literally heaven on earth. Suddenly, he was the same Jay Halstead I was partnered with in Intelligence, always getting overly excited about food. "I missed this."

I couldn't help the response that came from my lips. "I missed you," I whispered, smiling up at him.

Instead of returning the smile, his lips turned into a subtle frown. And when his eyes opened, they looked so unbeliavable sad that I immediately regretted the admission. True as it was.

But whatever had taken place, whatever had caused me to presume him dead and had allowed me to miss him and grieve him over the past three years, it most certainly wasn't his fault. And he had lived the consequences worse than anyone else.

"The intelligence team missed you, too," I decided to add, hoping that would serve to lighten the mood I had accidentally dampened.

It did, because he immediately broke out into a wide grin. "You're still working in Intelligence?" He seemed relieved, and I couldn't help the way my eyebrows raised in surprise at his question.

"Of course," I replied, easily. "You think that unit could run without both of us? Please." I said, allowing a playful smirk to grace my lips.

I was nervous that I hit a nerve with that comment, but his smile widened even further. "God. How is everyone?"

Part of him seemed like he genuinely wanted to know. But a larger part, I think, was just relieved to have a lighter topic to discuss, happy to use this to avoid the other, more serious topics.

And as much as I wanted to delve into them, I understood that he wasn't quite ready. So instead of pressing him with the questions that seemed to be multiplying within me, I indulged him with my best Intelligence Unit gossip.

"They're good," I smiled as I pictured how happy they would probably all be today when they found out Jay was alive. That he was home. "Really good, actually," I continued. "Ruzek and Burgess finally got their act together and got married," I said, starting with the social news.

"What?" He gasped, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," I laughed, dipping a french fry in ketchup and plucking it into my mouth. "It was actually all pretty sudden," I explained, as I swallowed another delicious salt-covered french fry. "I guess after the first mess, neither wanted a long engagement. They were barely together a month before they up and went to the courthouse," I went for another fry. Now that we were participating in a more casual conversation, it was like my body realized that I hadn't had a bite of food since the moment I heard Jay's voice on the other end of the phone. "We went with them, of course."

I remembered that day. It had been the happiest of their lives, and I stood next to Burgess, acting as her maid of honor. Jacob had been their 'ring bearer', and they assigned him the role just as they realized that they didn't actually have rings. I wore a nice blue dress and I smiled at all the right times.

And then I went home, alone, and wept.

"Wow," Jay said, still shaking his head in shock and completely oblivious to my trip down memory lane. "I guess I owe you that twenty bucks then," he said, referencing a bet we made the first week we were married.

"They are not getting back together, Er," Jay shouted from the bathroom of the swanky Costa Rica hotel. We had been married less than seventy-two hours, and we had somehow convinced Hank to let us both take off a week after our wedding to go on a honeymoon.

"I'm sure it didn't mean anything," he said. I heard the him turn off the razor and place it on the counter as I slowly crept around the bedroom portion of the hotel.

"Something about weddings always makes people feel frisky," he said, and I could almost hear the smirk on his face as he laughed at his own comment. He had just gotten out of the shower, and I could just picture him, white hotel towel slung low along his hips, nothing underneath, smirking at his own reflection in the mirror as he thought of their slutty-wedding sex.

"Oh yeah?" I replied, my voice raspier than usual when I thought of my new husband standing nearly naked only a few feet away.

"Definitely," he said, as he began brushing away the few hairs that had fallen to his chest as he shaved, his eyes still glued to the mirror.

That is until I stepped in, claid in my brand new, very tight, red lingerie. "Something about our wedding made me feel frisky, too."

"I guess you do," I said, my voice suddently serious as I held his gaze. A thousand memories passed between us in that moment, and with it, the thousands of moments we had missed.

Once again, though, he seemed not ready to talk about it, and so just continued with the probing. "Who replaced me?" He kept his voice light, no doubt meaning the question conversationally, but the question seemed to catch my breath.

No one, I wanted to reply immediately.

Except, was that true?

My heart began to pound loud in my ear as I moved my gaze away from his. I began to study my fingernails, as my fingers twisted together nervously.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching for my hand.

When he touched me, it was like he scorched my skin, and I was immediately reminded of the first time he had ever touched me. He had been helping me put on my bullet proof vest for our second raid together, and he had absentmindedly grazed his fingers across my neck. In that moment, it had taken every ounce of self control in my body not to shiver under his hands.

The same could be said for this moment.

"Don't be," I replied, trying to regain some of my composure.

"I just wanted to make sure you had someone watching your back these past three years," he said, trying to smile. It didn't reach his eyes, though.

"I did," I whispered, thinking of Paul. I may not love him the way I love the man sitting in the bed before me, but he most certainly had my back. "Hank partnered me with Antonio," I continued, because really, that was all he had meant. And that was all I was ready to tell him.

"Good," his hand was still covering mine, and I could tell he needed the physical contact as desperately as I did. "That makes me feel better," he said, softly. "I thought about that a lot," he looked away as he whispered the last part, almost as if he wasn't speaking to me.

And in a way, I think he wasn't. So, I took his cue and didn't respond.

We sat there in silence, polishing off our burgers and fries graceslessly with one hand, our other hand intertwined together, almost as if our fingers were glued together, almost as if we would never let go again.

I knew I wouldn't.

"So," he said after a few minutes. He looked up at me again, his blue eyes clear as the sky, and suddenly I was struck by how normal this situation was. I was sitting on a bed, eating burgers and fries from the Purple Pig, with my husband.

But it was also so unbelievably abnormal. Because the bed was a hospital bed, and my husband had an IV on his arm that was clearly visible as he placed the last bite of his burger into his mouth.

After he swallowed and used the napkin to clean his hands, he looked up at me, expectantly. "We should talk," he continued speaking, unaware of the way my mind had been analyzing every moment of his body, every breath that he inhaled, every curve of his face.

"Okay," I said, but I drew out the word into a question, almost as if to say isn't that what we were just doing?

He gave me the same familiar smirk and smile he always gave in response to my sarcasm, and once again, I was struck at how normal this all way. How effortlessly we were able to slip back into normal conversation. How easily I was able to pick up on his body language, how easily he was able to pick up on mine.

But then his face turned more serious. "When you came in, Dr. Tomkins was in here. He's one of the Orthopaedic surgeons at the hospital."

Of course, Jay and I both knew that I knew Dr. Tomkins as Bobby. And of course, I knew exactly who he was. He worked under my fiance.

And I also knew the real reason he appeared nervous at my appearance, and why he had exited the room so quickly.

I didn't know why Jay appeared so nervous, however. I watched as his forehead crinkled slightly. "He thinks I need surgery."

I couldn't tell if he was nervous because he was afraid of the surgery, or if he thought I would be afraid. I squeezed his hand and then moved it to his knee, hoping it would serve to calm his nerves either way. "Okay," I said, my voice calm. "When?"

He seemed suprised by the stillness of my voice, and maybe he should have been. But, the same way things had changed in Intelligence, a lot had changed in my personal life in the past three years. And evidently, living with an Orthopaedic surgeon seemed to dull me to some of the risks of surgery, because I wasn't just putting on a show. I really was completely calm.

Bobby was a fantastic surgeon, and according to Paul, he was one of the best he'd seen in a long time. Paul had been thrilled when he'd been able to steal him away from Northwestern, the other hospital in the Chicago area. He'd been so nervous the night before their first meeting, he had slept walk into the closet and gotten fully dressed at 2 am. I had had to coax him back to bed. I had had to reassure him over breakfast that he was the best, and this Bobby Tomkins would be lucky to work for him.

And I hadn't even been lying.

The two of them operated all the time, and they cared so deeply about each and every patient they met, so I knew with complete certainty that he was in the best of hands.

"Well," Jay replied, his voice calmer now, too. "They want to do it in stages." He gestured towards his legs and his ribs, and I allowed him to explain, even though their was no explanation needed. The intricacies of these surgeries had become my normal dinner conversation.

"When do they want to schedule the first one?" I asked, after he finished his explanation.

"I don't know," he said, thoughtfully. "I guess they can do it whenever the chairman of the department has time in his schedule to do it."

Suddenly, the calmness evaporated and a cold sweat overtook my body. I don't know why, but I hadn't been expecting him to say that. And so I was utterly unable to stop the words that tumbled out of my mouth immediately following his admission.

"They want Paul to do your surgery?" I asked, my voice louder, and noticably more unsteady than usual.

At the sound of his name, uttered by my own lips, my heart began to race.

And of course, this is precisely the problem with slipping back into normal, familiar territory with Jay.

That man could read me like a book.

"Who's Paul?" Jay said, sounding as nervous as I felt.

I knew I was going to have to tell Jay about Paul. I knew the two of them were going to meet at some point. And I knew I was going to be forced into a decision very soon.

But not now.

I wasn't prepared now.

"Er?" He asked, and I realized several seconds must have elapsed since he asked his original question.

Jay had always been able to sense my emotions, so it was no wonder that he was attuned to my change in attitude. I just wish I was better at hiding them from him.

"He's my fiance," I whispered quietly, knowing I couldn't hide it much longer.

There were a lot of things I wasn't going to be able to hide much longer.

"Your fiance?" He repeated, and the broken sound of his voice was like a dagger to my heart.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice quieter and sadder and less sure than I, myself, had ever heard it.

And I knew at this moment, it didn't matter what decision I made, and it didn't matter the outcome.

No matter what happened, everyone's heart would be shattered. And it was all starting right now.

Jay's POV

I knew she was holding something back. I had known from the minute her voice wavered and she called Dr. Tomkins by his first name. I had known with every lost eye contact, with every nervous glance.

But that had not been what I was expecting.

Although, I'm not really sure why I was so surprised.

I may have waited for her. I may have counted down the moments until I would get to see her face again. I may have lived for her, survived only to get back to her. But, well, she thought I was dead.

And if I truly was dead, I would never have expected her to wait for me.

But for some resaon, that didn't make it any less surprising. It didn't make it hurt any less. It didn't stop it from completely knocking the wind out of me. And it certainly didn't make it any easier to breath normally as I now avoided her gaze.

I tried to focus on a single spot in the room to help me calm my breathing, the way I had learned to do in the past three years when I had felt myself losing all hope.

That's when my eyes drifted to her left hand. There was a tan line where a ring should be, and I hadn't even noticed.

But then, I hadn't been looking.

"Jay," she whispered, and my heart broke at the sadness, the desperation that was evident in her voice. "Please say something," she whispered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came again. Once again, I tried. I really tried.

But for some reason, it was like I had completely lost my voice.

"Jay," she removed her hand from my knee, and it suddenly felt cold. But then, the warmth was transfered to my chin as she rested her fingers there, almost as if she was willing me to move my head, to look her in the eye. "Please," she whispered again.

And because I couldn't bear to hear Erin beg, I finally spoke. "It's okay," I whispered, even thought it so clearly wasn't.

My wife, my partner, my very best friend, the love of my life sat before me crying, and I wasn't even able to look at her.

I couldn't bring myself to move my hand from where it laid slack at my side, I couldn't bring myself to wipe her tears with my thumb the way I always, always would have in the past.

I just sat still for several moments, willing my breathing to return to normal.

"It's not okay," she croaked, the tears clearly now lodged in her throat. "I lov-"

I cut her off before she could finish that sentence. The one sentence I had been waiting desperately to hear, but now knew would be much too painful. "It is," I said, and it came out a lot more harshly then I had meant it to.

But then, I was just trying to cover up the words I really wanted to say. I love you, too, Erin. I love you, too.

She seemed to flinch at the harshness of my statement, and even though I wasn't looking at her, I could feel the sudden movement of her body in the bed, and through the motions of her hand resting against my chin.

Finally, I willed myself to look up, to find her hazel eyes and give her the reassurance she so clearly needed. Because, really, this wasn't her fault.

Except, when I found her eyes, ready to open my mouth and reassure her, I stilled once again. Because I looked past the hazel of her irises, and saw right into her soul.

And that's when I knew.

Her fiance wasn't the only thing she was hiding.

xoxo

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