Dedicated to all the families who didn't get a happy ending.

The house is still relatively empty, despite having been living in the thing for almost two months. Between raising a newborn and making sure Jay doesn't fall down the stairs, there has been absolutely zero time for decoration of any kind.

The good news? I got to go back to work today.

The bad news? That meant leaving Jay at home with Maddie. Alone. Which left options open for a double disaster. Something could happen to Maddie and Jay not reach her or something could happen to Jay and leave Maddie essentially alone and Jay out of helps reach and-

"Erin!"

"Huh?" My head snaps up, barely seeing Hank over the stacks of case files. I'd managed to finish an entire tire weeks worth of paperwork in about three hours, so I was officially caught up to right before my maternity leave. Some of the cases we had got since then were new, but the sad part of working as a cop in Chicago, was that things weren't always fast. There were thousands of crimes committed each month, murders were a common occurrence and there never seemed to be enough evidence.

Or there was but we just didn't have it. Labs were backed up, evidence lockers were full, and cops got tired of seeing case after case disappear, so they got tired of being thorough. Some of the better cops, the ones who kept at it and didn't lose themselves or get killed, they moved up. Became detectives or commanders.

But you never get ahead of the backlog. Unless you head up to the FBI or other large government agency that has its own lab, you send something to be processed, you get it back three months later. On a good day. Which gives any criminal who's smart plenty of time to get out of Chicago.

Lucky for us, most criminals, aren't that smart. And the ones that are, normally shoot straight up to our number one priority. It's always fun hunting those down.

Those are the cases where our unit really shines. Were what we get to do what we wish we could do with all the cases.

Solve them. In as little time as closure (or some sense of it) to the victims families, and bring a little piece of justice to this city.

At least, that's the intent. But spending all day flipping through folder after too thin folder with pictures of dead kids and husbands and wives all caught up in the business of gangs that they aren't part of, it makes intention look about as nice as the 'idea' of water while you're stranded in the desert.

At the very least, it helped distract my overactive imagination. I only felt guiltier at that concept, because that was like me labeling all these victims as merely a distraction, and therefore unimportant.

I am a qualifiable wreck.

But the clock says five, and Hanks looking at me with amusement on face that mixes with surprise. Probably because I lasted all day without requesting to go home and make sure the house hadn't burned down.

"You...are going to go home at some point right?" I pause.

Go home.

"Yeah. Yes. Uh huh, I'm, I'm gonna go right now. Yeah. Okay." My mind kind of shuts down a little at those words. All day today I've been shoving the idea from my mind, yelling at myself to focus, that it wasn't time yet, just text him, see he's fine.

My keys prove a particular problem, as they're not in my jacket like I thought. Voight holds them up with one finger, smirking at my glare.

"Come on kid, I'll drive ya."

The car ride is silent for the time it takes him to pull out of the parking lot, then its all questions. How am I doing, how is Maddie doing, has Jay killed himself on accident yet, etcetera, etcetera. Typical father-in-law stuff.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. As long as you'll let me know when I can have the little bundle over for a day or two." I groan, but smile anyway.

"After the third time she throws up down your back, you'll regret that request." Hank just grins.

"You forget that I had to raise Justin. I guarantee you Maddie is a happier baby than he was."

"Do you know how many shirts I've had to wash? I have to take Jay shopping sometime soon because her puke is like acid. It's bleached the color out of half his wardrobe."

There's an incredulous look thrown my way.

"You let Jay hold her? Wow, you really have figured out how to trust him."

I punch him. Hard.

He just laughs again and pulls into our driveway.

"Hey." He catches me before I run out of the car. "Listen to me."

I shut the door. I know the look on his face. Its his serious look that he only uses when he's about to talk to family.

"I know, I uh...made it difficult for you guys, at first. And believe it or not, I was actually looking out for Halstead when I saw him start to fall for you."

"Wha-, okay I was not that bad..." I trail off at his disbelieving look.

"You went through a guy every other week. For almost a year."

I squirm.

"Alright, I so I was a little adventurous."

"Yeah, well, I saw that kid bleeding out for you and you didn't even know it. I didn't want him to be another 'adventure'. "

"You didn't want him to be anything."

"Not true."

"That's what it looked like."

"Will you shut up?" He jokes, but the seriousness has returned, despite my best efforts.

"I already had this talk with him. I apologized, because, as I told him early on, I'm not always right. And I was wrong in the way I acted towards him, towards both of you. But I was right when I said he'd be good police, I saw it as he first walked up stairs with Antonio. I knew that if I didn't push him for it - if I didn't give him a reason to want to get better - he wouldn't. Whether he'll admit it or not, he needed the unit when he came on. He still needs it now.

"Accept now he's got you, and he's got that beautiful little girl to look after. And I gotta tell ya, never in my life did I think that I'd have a nervous guy knocking on my door at ten at night, asking to marry my daughter."

I smile softly, just imagining Jay having a nervous breakdown in Will's apartment beforehand, pacing back and forth and just freaking out while Will sat on the counter watching more than amused.

"But I'm damn glad I did. Because I've never…" He stops to compose himself for a second. Despite his demeanor, my old man's a sap, through and through.

"Seeing you...I've proud of you kid. I know I've said it before, but I mean it. I'm so damn proud of what you've done, what you've become. I'm proud of the life you've built. Because who you are, that strength you carry? That wasn't from me. It wasn't from anybody. It's just you. And you've done so much good in this world with it...I couldn't be prouder."

I stare at him for a while, trying to figure out why there aren't any tears coming to my eyes. Normally these conversations are balls of emotions for me, but right now all I came come up with is this insane amount of gratitude.

"Hank I...I don't know how to...thank you. This means a lot."

"I know kiddo. Now go take care of your family."

My mouth is dry. I nod, then scuttle my way out of the car and up the steps.

The house was foreclosed on, and Voight knew a guy or two in the bank. Him and Jay coluded with each other, so I got just about the perfect house: Nice open concept rooms, kitchen on the first floor along with a huge space for a living room, a den of sorts as a finished basement with a room for laundry off of it. The upstairs is carpeted except for the hallway and office space, the large master bedroom at the end of the hall and the two smaller bedrooms having a soft layer of fluffy carpet covering the floors.

The click of my boots echo in the unfurnished rooms, still unpainted and in need of new flooring. We haven't decided between a light blue or a red. One of Jay's many jobs (the downside to being a house husband he says) is to search all different shades of the colors we were interested in and match it with good colors of wood.

After I slip off my boots and relieve my coat pockets of their many belongings, I drop the drab thing into the closet and take my phone with me as I tiptoe upstairs. There's soft light coming from the bedroom, and I nudge open the door open with my sock covered toe.

The tv's sound is down low, and a quick flash of penguins tells me it's one Jay's favorite documentaries. The light changes, throwing different shadows and colors over Halstead's face. I smile softly at the scene.

Glasses crooked, beard grown out, head tilted to the side as it rests limp against the pillow cushioned backboard. Little Maddie is passed out as well, sleeping peacefully with an expression matching her daddy's, splayed on her stomach, lying on Jay's chest.

Sighing with the gentle contentment that settles in my stomach, I adjust pull the blankets over my family, then shut the door and get ready for bed.

-That was literally pure fluff with domestic linstead. Like. I didn't know it was possible for me to write that much fluff. BUT i really love the image of Jay with glasses and his beard just like passed out and erin being all maternal and just so cuttteeeeeeee.

Review?