The next week seemed to have flown right on by; two weeks wasn't enough time. It was a mere fourteen days that seemed to flash by in an instant second. It's not the time it takes for a difficult case to be solved and it's definitely not the time it takes for a traumatized person to heal. It had been two weeks since her attack and it felt lesser than that; it felt like her attack was at least a week ago; not two whole weeks. In the last week, Erin divided her time between being at home with her overbearing and overprotective mother, visiting Dr. Charles and the occasional opportunity she had to venture out into downtown Chicago with her husband. Erin is scheduled to attend her first support group meeting in a few days; while she's nervous and on edge about how it'll all play out, she's confident that it's something she needs to do, it's a part of healing.
Erin unlocked the front door to her home and stepped into the spotless house. It was absolutely dustless, untarnished and immaculately clean. While Erin was at her checkup, her mother must have passed the time by cleaning up. Erin set her purse down and walked further into the house. She heard the voices of her mother and Sergeant Platt in the living room, and in that moment, Erin knew she had two choices; she could either sneak her way upstairs or join in on the conversation. It wasn't really much of a decision; she immediately turned towards the staircase and started tiptoeing her way towards it.
"Where are you going?" She hears her mother's voice call out.
Leave it to Camille to be able to hear every tiptoe, breath and slight movement coming from her. As a child, she could never get away with anything. Her dad could read her like an opened book and her mother heard absolutely everything. She had impeccable hearing that Erin found herself wishing that it wasn't so perfect sometimes.
"I'm coming to the living room, I just wanted to grab something to drink from the kitchen," she lied easily; there was no hesitation and no time to think. She said it with such ease because with an overbearing mother and a cop father, she picked up a few skills to get around their suspicious looks and inquisitorial questions.
"I made fresh lemonade. It's in here. Come get some," Camille called out to her daughter. She's sitting next to Platt –both with partially full glasses of lemonade in front of them- and as she waits for her daughter to walk in, she pours her a glass, "How was your checkup?"
Erin walks into the living room, "It was fine. They drew blood."
"Blood for what?" Her mother inquires, handing her the glass of freshly squeezed lemonade.
"…a pregnancy test," Erin sets the glass down. She avoids eye contact with both her mother and the sergeant as she sits in the arm chair. She didn't want to talk about it. She had completely forgotten that just because the first test came back negative didn't mean she wasn't pregnant. Erin had honestly thought that all of this was being put behind her. She assumed the only thing that would stop her from moving on was her emotions; not a possible baby.
Neither Camille nor Platt knew what to say; they didn't know how to respond. The sergeant meets Camille's eyes, and both are waiting for the other to speak. What do you say? How can they assure her that it's all over when it's not? She has to wait –and waiting is the worst- but it has to be done in order to get closure. Platt stands up and crosses the living room. She takes a seat against the arm of the chair Erin is resting in, "How are you? How have you been doing?" It was the first thing she could think of to say.
"I'm just taking each day one panic attack at a time."
"I don't know if that's a good or bad thing," Platt chuckles, rubbing the younger woman's back comfortingly, "but what I do know is that you're strong and resilient and if anyone can get through this, it's definitely you."
"How are you handling all of it?" Camille pries, she scoots to the edge of her seat, and leans forward –her elbows on her knees- she patiently waits for a response, "What's honestly going through your mind right now? Maybe one of us can offer some advice…"
Erin sighs, "I can't stop thinking about that pregnancy test."
"Don't worry yourself," Platt responds –raising from her seat- it was getting uncomfortable, "you'll drive yourself crazy."
"I think it's too late for that," Erin clears her throat; fighting back the sound of despondency.
Camille stands, "There's no news, right? And what do people say about no news?"
"Whoever said that no news is good news is an idiot! I mean, no news leaves my imagination way too many scenarios to contemplate right now!" She uncontrollably snaps –her eyes wide and her face flushed red- Erin storms out of the living room, -lemonade forgotten- and stomps towards the front door at the sound of a light knock. She didn't feel like entertaining company.
It had been two weeks; that was the time frame her father gave her. She hadn't heard anything about an arrest, so that means Erin could help out. It was their agreement. She couldn't sit on the sidelines any longer and wait to hear word about her attack; she needed to do something productive, something that could catch him, and sitting on her hands watching the clock wasn't cutting it. Erin swings the front door open, and to her surprise it's Dr. Charles standing on the other side. He's dressed in a suit –his usual white jacket nowhere in sight- he smiles, "Hey."
"What are you doing here?" She's irritated. Erin hoped no one called him. She's had enough of talking about her feelings and thoughts. Erin remains standing in the doorway; she had no intention of letting him in, "I didn't think we had a session today."
"We don't," he nods towards the door, "May I come in?"
Erin feels a light hand on her back, "I'm going to be heading out. I have to get back to work." She hears Platt whisper, and seconds following her exit, Dr. Charles walks in.
"You never answered my question," Erin asserts; she has been in a good mood and she doesn't want to lose it. It seems to take more effort for her to be happy than it does for her to be unemotional and detached. Her arms cross against her chest as she waits, "What are you doing here Dr. Charles?"
"I saw you leaving the hospital."
Her brows furrow, "You followed me home?"
"No," he shakes his head, "your address is on file."
Erin remained confused; she still didn't understand, "That doesn't explain what you're doing here. We're not scheduled for a session today."
"I know. I saw you leaving the hospital and you looked like you needed a session, so I came by."
That earned her silence. It was the truth. And she couldn't argue with the truth. She did need a session. She needed one bad. Erin's face scrunched together, she bit her bottom lip and nodded in the direction of the living room. She wanted him to follow. There's quickness in Erin's step; she's ready to get this started; she had some serious things she needed to get off her chest. Sometimes speaking to a third party person who won't judge you or what you say is comforting. After this is all over, he'll leave; she won't have to worry about seeing him every day, on holidays and birthdays, or even at work. She sees Dr. Charles on her terms, and that's what makes talking to him easier than talking to her parents or friends.
"Mom, I need the living room," Erin announces; Camille's eyes spot Dr. Charles and without an argument, she grabs her cell phone and heads upstairs. Erin smiles at the doctor, "Lemonade?"
He sits down, "No thank you."
"So," Dr. Charles clasps his hands over his lap, "Talk me through what you're thinking…"
"I am alive." She states matter-of-factly, "I am loved. So I should be happy." Erin takes a seat beside the psychologist, "And I think I am, but I'm not sure." The assertion in her voice falters; she doubts herself, "I can't remember what it feels like to be genuinely happy."
"Happiness is indescribable. You can't explain it. You just feel it."
"Yeah, I just wish I remembered what it felt like completely."
"What happened at the hospital?" Dr. Charles reverts back to why he decided to show up in the first place. Something happened today, and that's what he wants to focus on.
"I went in for a checkup."
"Why did you storm out like you received some bad news?" He watches her lift up her glass of lemonade; her hand is trembling as she brings it to her mouth to take a sip. Something is on her mind and it's causing her nerves to rise, but he continues anyway, "Did you receive bad news?"
"No."
"…then what happened?" He pries; Dr. Charles is here to help her feel better. He's not here to pass judgment, to ridicule, or to make fun. He needs to know the problem in order to help her overcome whatever it is.
She sets her glass down before admitting, "I had to get blood drawn for a pregnancy test."
"And you want it to be negative?"
"I need it to be negative." She corrects; Erin positions herself to face him; she wants to read him and give him an opportunity to read her, "If I'm pregnant, it's not my husband's baby!" Her voice breaks; it completely shatters. She's not crying, but she's definitely close to it.
"You have to think positive Erin. You won't get more than you can handle."
"That doesn't comfort me. That doesn't help me at all!" She shouts; Erin stands up and steps away from the psychologist, "I thought all of that was behind me!"
"You have to try and keep it behind you." He rises to his feet as well, "It's not in your future; it's in your past. We have to leave it there."
Erin's opened palm covers her mouth; she's holding in her tears with every fiber of her being. Every part of her is breaking down –she feels it- her insides are crumbling. She's absolutely terrified at the thought of what the future held for her. She didn't want to know. If only she could freeze time, it'll make life so much easier. Erin sees the compassion on his face –he's waiting- he's patiently holding out for her to say something. Technically this wasn't a scheduled session, but he had nowhere else to be. She could use as much of his time as she needed. He doesn't do this for the money, he does it to help and make a difference in someone's life. He hears a breakage in her raspy voice; he knows she's about to speak and he looks up –anticipating- waiting once more to hear whatever she has to say.
"I hate it when I think nothing else can go wrong and then I find out that there is a whole new level of wrongness that I haven't even found out about yet!" Her voice shouts; she's pretty sure her mother can hear her, but she doesn't care, "Everything just keeps getting worse!"
"Erin-"
"I could be pregnant with my rapist's child!" This; this statement is what breaks her. It's what weakens her knees; it's what causes her to fall to the ground. It's what forces her hands to cover her face. It's what curls her body together. She's making herself seem small. Her knees to her chest and her arms around her legs, she buries her face into her lap, doing everything in her power to mentally escape from reality.
"You also could not be pregnant." Dr. Charles offered the alternative. He's hesitant to approach her; he's unaware of how she'll react, but he walks towards her anyway, "What I'm trying to say is Erin, you don't know yet. You don't know." He's standing beside her; looking down at her small body, "However, you do need to prepare yourself. I don't want to lie to you. I want to assure you that you'll get the results you want, but I can't."
She looks up briefly, "…well, that's comforting." Her head buries back into her lap.
"Erin-"
"I'm on a rollercoaster ride of emotions." Her voice is muffled by her buried face, but he can still make out what she's saying. He's listening to her carefully, "I'm practically bipolar right now because one second I'm fine and content, and the next I'm either crying or pissed off." She looks up again, brushing loose strands of her brunette hair behind her ear, "Everyone, but you Dr. Charles, has gotten on my nerves at least once. I'm actually pretty sure that I have no nerves left! Everyone and everything is currently already on them."
"Erin-"
"At the rate my unfortunate bad luck is going right now, that test is probably going to come back positive."
"Erin-"
"If it's negative, I honestly don't know what I'll do. It'll be the best news...which sounds really sad," She cracks a smile as the tears trickling down her face fall into the cracks on her lips, "However, I'm starting to get used to all the bad things in life that I don't know what to do when something good happens. What do you do? What's the appropriate way to react?"
"Erin-"
"If I'm pregnant Dr. Charles, I can't expect my husband to stick around. That's not his responsibility. He'll probably go running for the hills and I wouldn't blame him." She interrupts him once again. She crosses her arms atop her legs, and rests her chin upon them, "If I have this kid, I won't be able to look it in the eye. I won't be able to mother it. I won't be able to bear it mentally and emotionally. I'm calling it an it Dr. Charles! I can't do this!"
Dr. Charles grabs Erin gently by the arm and tugs her back onto her feet. He practically lifted her up himself; she was deadweight who had no intention of standing up. Erin snatches her arm out of his hold and walks over to the window; it looks out into her backyard.
"Erin, you're getting ahead of yourself right now." Dr. Charles approaches her, "Remember, we talked about your inclination to jump to conclusions." He stands next to her as they both peer out of the window.
"Yeah, and I told you I didn't care. And If I didn't care last week, why would I care today?"
"Because like I said last week, it's going to drive you out of your mind; you'll go crazy and it'll affect your physical health sooner or later."
Her eyes drift from the view outside and averts to a side-glance towards Dr. Charles, "I do care." She quietly admits; it's all part of her rollercoaster ride of emotions, "I just…it's easier not to care, you know?"
"I do."
"I have a lot of baggage right now that no one should have to carry, but me. I just…I need someone to tell me that I'm worth it." Erin presses her lips together; her dimples piercing through, "I'm worth the fight and I'm definitely worth the wait because that's all everyone is doing right now…they're waiting; they're waiting for the real Erin to come back."
"You are the real Erin."
She quickly retorts, "No I'm not."
"You are…you're just improving."
She blankly repeats, "I'm improving?"
Dr. Charles turns her around completely –his hands on her shoulders- he's holding her still and keeping her eyes focused on him, "Stuff like what happened makes us stronger…it's making you stronger and that's what you'll eventually realize."
She pleads, "…but if I have his baby-"
"Until you get your results, you need to focus on something else. You'll drive yourself crazy thinking about that test. Just wait for your results."
Erin smacks his arms away; this was the problem, he doesn't understand. How can one think about anything else when something like this will change their life forever? She can't focus on something else. She forgot this was even a problem –even a possibility- until the doctor requested her blood to be drawn for a potential pregnancy. This is all ridiculous. It's Murphy's Law all over again. Something went bad and now it's starting to get worse. There's nothing that comes to mind that could possibly take her mind off of all of this. Erin's hand presses against the window, she's looking out onto the patio, "All I'm doing is worrying about things I can't control Dr. Charles!" The hand resting against the window clenches into a fist, "I can't think about anything else."
"Do something else then."
She turns to face him, "Like what?" Her eyes are scrunched together in disbelief.
"Do something that'll take your mind off of the pregnancy test."
"There is absolutely noth-" Erin silences herself. She had completely forgotten. With her mom, Platt and Dr. Charles filling her time, it had slipped from her mind. She was supposed to go to the district. She was supposed to help out with her case. Erin pats his shoulder, "You're right."
"That was easier than I thought," He watches her grab her glass of lemonade and chug down the remainder of her drink –it wasn't much left- it was just enough to quench her thirst.
She sets her empty glass down, "I have to go."
"I'll see you in two days, right?" He gets the hint. If this was a session, it would have been ended. They usually talk for at least an hour, and no more than two.
She waves him away, "…yeah…yeah you will."
"You can call me anytime you want. My phone is always on." Dr. Charles is backing away towards the front door. He sees her put the pitcher of lemonade in the fridge before racing over to the bottom of the stairwell.
"Thank you Dr. Charles." She grabs the banister, "Mom, I'm heading out."
"I'll come with…" Camille calls back down.
Erin hears the front door close; the doctor is gone. She turns back to the stairwell to see her mother standing at the top of the staircase. She didn't want her mother to go. Her mother didn't know about this. Camille would get in the way and Erin couldn't have that. She backs away from her mother, and grabs her purse, "No…no, I want to go alone. I need to clear my mind." Erin backs up slowly towards the front door, "No offense to you mom, but I just need a break."
"Okay," Camille handles that better than she expected, "I guess I'll stay here and start dinner."
"Thanks." Erin's acknowledgement is quickly shut off by the slamming of the front door. She's in a hurry, and Camille had become used to being left alone. This wasn't Erin's first time getting out of the house without her, and when she spoke to Dr. Charles, she learned it was normal, and healthy for Erin to have space. It allowed for her to come to terms with what happened, her thoughts and her reaction. Sometimes it's okay to be by yourself.
The time it took for Erin to get from her house to the precinct was pretty impressive. She's actually quite surprised she didn't receive a ticket; she knows she at least broke a few traffic laws. She should care, but if you were to ask her, she would be honest. She didn't care at all because she had somewhere to be. She had to help her dad and husband catch the man responsible for all of the shit she has been through in these last two weeks. She had better things to do than abide by traffic laws. It sounds horrible. It sounds reckless. Erin knew that if others were in her position, they would understand; they would get it…at least, she hoped they would.
Erin thanked a rookie cop who enthusiastically ran to the front door of the precinct and held it open for her. She thanked the same officer once again when he ran up the few stairs and held open the second door. He was new. Of all the years her dad has worked here, and she visited, she has never seen him before. He sent her a bright smile and a nod of the head.
"Hey Erin…long time no see."
The rookie cop is long forgotten as she turns to approach the front desk, "Yeah, I had forgotten that I was supposed to come here to meet up with my dad and Jay." She nudges her thumb in the direction of the gate, "Can you buzz me up?"
"I sure can, but the squad isn't here right now."
Erin's brows creased, "Do you know how long they will be out?"
"I'm not sure." Platt shakes her head.
"Can you buzz me up anyway?"
"Of course kiddo," Platt presses down upon the button. The sound of the gate mechanically unlocking echoed through the lobby.
Erin opens the gate, "Thanks." She shuts it behind her tightly and securely.
As she takes each stair –one by one- her hand trails up the railing. It's quiet. When Platt said the squad wasn't here, she literally meant everyone, not even Mouse was sitting behind his desk. Erin arrives to the top stair and scans around the bullpen. She has never been here alone before. Usually she's accompanied by her dad, Jay, or someone else from the team. Erin walks along the aisle, her eyes falling to the desk of each person who works under her dad. The silence of the bullpen begs for noise. It needs sound. She approaches her husband's desk and smiles down at the three framed photos of him and her. They were positioned at different areas along the brown desk; they're shown proudly, almost in a bragging fashion. And she couldn't help but smile at that. He's happy to be her husband. He wants everyone to know just how happy he is.
She turns away from his desk with her eyes focused on her father's closed office door. Erin figures she can just sit in his office until he returns; however, her plan is foiled the second her eyes fall onto the white board. There are two photos pinned up on the board –one of Ally and one of Ben- and written below the photos is information consisting of full name, age, date of birth, and links to the murders of three men. The photos of the three men are listed under victims, and information such as their full name, age, date of birth, date of death and the location their body was found. Erin's eyes pull away from the photos of the victims; she can't look at that. Her eyes focus back on Ally; the reddish long hair, the bright smile and the brown eyes angered her. Ally had no idea that while the Intelligence Unit is after her and her boyfriend, Erin is also after her.
Images of that night flash through her mind. They haven't played through since the day she was discharged from the hospital. She saw Ally –standing in her underclothes- practically throwing herself at her husband. She had a boyfriend. She was in a relationship yet that wasn't good enough for her. She had to come after Erin's man and that wasn't okay. Erin felt the anger bubbling up in the pit of her stomach; it simmered there just at the sight of the photo. She immediately backed away. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore, however, the moment she stepped back, her body slammed into a hard chest.
A high-pitched scream erupts through the bullpen, but its silenced seconds after her husband turns her around to face him. He's wide-eyed. He's cupping her face and staring into her equally wide eyes, "What are you doing here?"
Voight is beside her; he's similarly concerned, "Yeah kid, why didn't you call first? Is everything okay? How's your mom? What happened?"
"It's been two weeks," Erin responds; she says it in a manner that should click for the two of them. Two weeks was the deadline. It was the time limit her father placed on them working together. She didn't come up with it; he did, so he should remember.
Hank sighs –shaking his head- as he tucks his hands in his front pockets, "Kid, let's just-"
"No," she holds up her pointer finger, "No. Dad, you can't. You are not benching me before I even get a chance to play!"
"This isn't a game," Voight argued; a stress vein arising on his forehead.
"We are not who we are because of what has been done to us!" She shouts; Erin wouldn't be surprised if the officers downstairs heard their argument; a part of her wanted them to so they would stop looking at her as some sucker who gives in without a fight, "We are who we are because of how we choose to respond to it! This is how I want to respond to it…I want to help! Just let me! Please!"
Jay is confused. He's looking between his wife and his father-in-law; Jay has absolutely no idea about what's going on, "What is this about?"
"I'm here to help." She turns to face her husband, maybe he wouldn't put up much of a dispute.
"…absolutely not! You can't join this investigation."
"I am an adult! I can make my own decisions!"
Voight rubs the bottom of his jaw, "Erin, you're not thinking straight. Come on and-"
"Don't criticize me because I'm not doing what you want me to do! We had an agreement!" She snaps in return; this was the agreement, the only reason he's even backing down on it was because he failed to capture this guy in two weeks like he originally assumed he would.
Erin turned to Jay. His mouth opened and closed soon after. He was debating over the right words to say. She was already upset, he didn't want to further her anger.
"Erin, your dad is right." The words Jay uttered were the words she hated the most. Voight loved hearing those words and she hated giving her dad the satisfaction in hearing them.
"You can't bench me either!"
"Erin, it's dangerous!"
She stands in disbelief; they can't be serious right now. This was the agreement she had made with her father, he can't back out; he can't take back his word. Erin turns to find Jay; her face red in anger, "No it's not! It's not dangerous…not if I'm here! I'll stay here! You have my word! No one is brave enough to come into a precinct and hurt me. We don't even know if I'm a target. That's all speculation! And speculation is weak, that argument wouldn't even hold up in court. I can help from the bullpen. I don't want to go out and question a suspect…that's your job!"
"This is our job too." Jay metaphorically puts his foot down. He couldn't protect her then, but he has every intention of protecting her now.
"…but you're slacking!" A silence falls over the bullpen. Voight and Halstead are quiet, and Erin lowers her voice to respond once more, "He's still out there. He could have hurt other women. He's free and until he's caught he'll be a threat to every woman who's alone."
Voight sets his hand on her shoulder, "Not for long,"
"Did you find something?" She turns away from her husband in order to meet her father's eyes, "Do you know who did this?"
The second the question is posed, she hears a familiar masculine voice clear. Erin freezes; she recognizes that voice. Erin steps around her father and husband to meet the eyes of a man she thought she would never see again.
"What's he doing here?"
"What's she doing here?"
The questions are posed at the same time. Erin is staring at Chad and he's staring at her. She wanted the almost hookup to be a forgotten memory, but that was highly impossible with him standing right in front of her. She told her dad that Chad wasn't involved, yet he was here.
"What's he doing here?" Erin restates her question; she ignores the awkwardness in the room existent due to her husband's presence. She knew it was awkward for him to see the guy she almost hooked up with; Chad's presence was awkward for her too.
"He's here for questioning," Voight waves for Chad to follow him.
Erin looks at her husband, "Question him about what?" Jay doesn't answer the question; he goes to follow behind Voight. Erin is quick on her feet and moves to follow them. Voight hands the suspect off to Halstead and waits for him to push him into the interrogation room.
Voight asserts, "Go home."
"He had nothing to do with this," She pleads for him to believe her, "Please don't question him!"
"Why are you trying to protect him?"
Her voice lowers, "…because Jay doesn't need to hear the details about how I almost hooked up with him. Chad had nothing to do with this. I promise you that. Please don't subject me to more embarrassment."
"We have nothing else to go off of."
She quips, "And that's why you need my help! You'll get nowhere questioning him! He doesn't know anything!"
"I prefer to find that out for myself," and without another word, Hank disappears into the interrogation room.
Erin is left standing alone in the hallway. She hears chairs dragging in the interrogation room. She knew her father was prepared to search for information that Chad possibly doesn't know, but what if he did know something? Something in the investigation could have led her dad to even calling Chad here for questioning. Erin presses her ear against the door and hears nothing. Her eyes land upon the door leading to the room that connects the one-way mirror. Erin raced to the door, pulled out a hairpin and picked the lock. When the door opened, she sighed and smiled in success. Silently stepping inside, she closed the door behind her and approached the mirror. Chad is sitting on the side of the table facing her –he's nervous- and Voight and Halstead are sitting on the other side with their backs to her.
"What's going on?" Chad's voice wavers; he watches the sergeant open up a folder and sift through the papers, "Why did you need me to come in?"
"We just want to ask you some questions," Voight pulls out a photo; it's of Erin, and he extends it out to Chad, "Do you know her?"
"Yeah…I mean," Chad shrugs; his throat is dry in nervousness, "I don't know her name, but I know her. She was the girl out there."
"You met her at Mollys'?" Voight is the main one questioning; Erin notices Jay shift in his seat.
"Yeah."
"While there, did you happen to notice anyone take a liking to her?"
"…no."
"You left out of Mollys' with her?"
"Yeah."
Voight sits back; arms crossed over his chest, "Did you happen to notice anything strange or suspicious?"
"Like what?"
Voight ignores his question and continues to inquire more, "Or did you happen to partake in something that you shouldn't have?"
Chad runs his hand through his hair, "Like what?"
"Are you sure you didn't pick up the man after he finished raping a defenseless woman?" Chad sits up the second Hank finishes his first question, "Did you set her up?" Hank continues to pry; he notices the shift in body language; "Was this all a part of the plan?"
"What?! Man, you have the wrong guy!" Chad is pleading for Voight to believe him; his eyes fall between the sergeant and the detective, "That woman out there," Chad's jittery hand points towards the door, "She was the defenseless woman who was raped?"
Hank doesn't answer. He simply rises from his seat and kicks his chair away. Hank knows his daughter is watching; he knows if the roles were reversed, he would be watching. He walks around the table and sits against the edge, "Why did you lure my daughter out of the bar?"
"She's your daughter?!" Chad isn't answering the questions, not because he has anything to hide, he's just caught off guard. He thought that night was behind him. He didn't think that upon hearing Chicago PD wants to question him that it'll be about that specific night.
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure you knew that, right Chad?" Voight leans forward and grips the suspect by the jaw, "Was that the reason you chose her?"
Chad struggles to shake his head, "What…no?"
"…then why did you pick her?" Voight pulls the man to his feet and forcibly slams his back into the wall. He's fuming in anger; he needs answers; he has to get answers so he can get Erin some type of closure. His hand tightened around Chad's jaw, "Out of everyone in that bar, why did you choose Erin? Why did you pick her?"
Chad is shaking his head; the cool and calm demeanor that Erin met weeks ago was gone, in its place was a scared and terrified man, "I'm innocent. I didn't hurt her. I had nothing to do with what happened! I swear! I swear man! I didn't even know her name!"
Voight repeats his earlier question; he wouldn't let it go until he received an answer, "Why did you choose Erin? Why did you pick my daughter?"
Erin listens intently –both of her hands resting against the glass- she's biting her tongue as she waits for his honest answer. Did he have anything to do with what happened? Was she just naïve to think that the one person who comforted her that night had zero bad intentions?
"I was just looking for some fun," Chad admitted; his back squirming against the plastered wall, "I just wanted some fun; a hot hookup and then I saw her crying at the bar."
"So you figured," Erin's eyes pull away from Chad and her dad at the sound of Jay's voice; he sounds even angrier than her father. He's slowly standing from his seat and her voice hitches; she actually fears for Chad right now, "You thought it would be fun to take advantage of a vulnerable woman who was obviously going through something?"
"It wasn't like that."
"THEN WHAT WAS IT LIKE?!" Jay screams from over Voight's shoulder; his hands are clenched into fists and a sudden rage came from nowhere and erupted out of him, "TELL ME!" Halstead struggles to calm down; his breathing is rugged, "Tell me what it was like to try and hook up with a married woman, with someone's wife; with MY wife."
Almost immediately, Chad's head whips in the detective's direction. Erin was the daughter of the sergeant currently pinning him to the wall and the wife of the detective who is currently fighting the urge to punch him. Of all the people he could have met, why did it have to be her? Chad is shaking his head fast; he's getting a headache from the quickness of his shuddering head. His hands fly to the air in a panic, "I didn't know that."
"You didn't know she was married?" Jay questions; he already knew the answer to the question, but he wanted to know whether or not Chad would lie to his face.
"I knew she was married," he admits honestly; and if he was being real, he would have admitted that he knew she was married to a detective, he just didn't assume that the detective questioning him was her husband. Chad's eyes fall to the ground, "I knew she was married to a detective. I just…I don't know."
"Why her," Jay questions; his fingers loosen and his fists unravel. He's slowly calming down.
"I saw her in the bar." Chad swallows dryly, "She was crying and drinking." He looks back and forth between the woman's father and husband, "I figured we both could benefit."
Voight responds, "By hooking up?"
"Yeah," He looks back to the fuming father; Voight releases him, "I would get my hot hookup and she'll be able to take her mind off of the man who hurt her." His eyes avoid Jay's orbs; both of them knowing who he was referring to, "She wanted it!" Chad asserts, straightening his posture –he licks his lips- while adjusting his tense shoulders, "She was just as willing as I was to get out of that bar! She practically begged me to have sex with-" His sentence is immediately cut off by the sharp and severe impact of Halstead's fist.
Erin watched the entire thing; it all happened so fast. She normally was against this type of thing, but she didn't care. Chad was lying. She didn't beg him for anything. He was saying all of that to get under her husband's skin. He was lying to make himself look better; he didn't want to look like the creep he is. The truth is, Chad saw an inconsolable and heartbroken woman crying in a dark corner of a bar by herself and he set his sights upon her; he thought he was going to get lucky that night. He was sweet and kind and he provided an ear to listen all for the purpose of getting her in bed; that was the truth. By the third punch, her father felt forced to pull Jay away.
"When I kissed her, she kissed me back! She wanted it!" Chad wipes the drops of blood from his bottom lip, "It's the truth!" He spits out, "I didn't take advantage of anyone! When she said stop, I stopped, but when we made out against the side of my car-"
Jay snarls, "That's enough." He didn't want to hear the details. What husband would want to hear the nitty-gritty details of how their wife made out with another man?
"That girl…Erin…whatever her name is, she wanted it just as much as I did."
"Get out," Voight points towards the exit, "Get out of here before I release the pent up anger I have for her attacker on you."
Chad may not have known Voight, but just by looking in his eyes, he knew the sergeant was serious. He jumped away and moved through the officers. Chad stepped out of the interrogation room, and saw Erin standing in the hallway. Chad usually never saw the females he hooked up with, or almost hooked up with again. This was a first; she was a first. It was an awkward encounter at first. He didn't know what to say and neither did she. Erin chose to simply step to the side as he nodded his head in her direction. It was quick, it got to the point, and he was soon enough out of sight. Erin turned to face the opened door of the interrogation room. Her dad was sitting against the edge of the table as Jay paced back and forth across the small room.
"He's an ass," Erin mutters; her quip breaks the tension in the room and pulls a soft smile on her father's face, "I don't even know what I saw in the guy."
"…an opportunity," Jay affirms, his pacing speed slowly increases.
"I didn't beg for anything," Erin's looking at Jay; she knows this is hard for him. She basically walked out on him at the thought of him cheating on her, yet here she stood, pleading with him after knowingly and purposefully cheating on him. She licked her lips in uncertainty; stalling while thinking of the next thing to say, "I know apologizing doesn't excuse what I did, but I am sorry. You apologized to me for basically doing nothing. It's only right that I apologize to you after deliberately doing something."
"Erin-"
"I wanted to hurt you," she cuts him off before he has the chance to assure her. She knows her husband and she knows that's exactly what he was going to do. He was going to brush it off and act like it's okay, but she knows, and she knows it isn't. You don't get back at someone by hurting them, especially someone you love. It's no excuse. Erin steps into the interrogation room, "I was angry and hurt and all I could think about was getting back at you."
"…by sleeping with some other guy?" Jay's voice is calm; he doesn't want to be upset at her, but he can't help it. He can't help the emotions bubbling within him, "You couldn't just…I don't know," he shrugs and throws his hands into the air, "slash my tires or break the windows of my car like other women usually do?"
"I didn't sleep with him! And destroying your car wouldn't have solved anything…"
Jay squints his eyes, "…but hooking up with a stranger would have."
"I'm sorry!"
"I know, and I forgive you. I'm not mad at you. None of this changes anything. We're still okay, it's just," his voice lowers. He's using the few seconds that he pauses as a chance to gather the appropriate way to respond, "Actually seeing the guy made it more real. I pictured it. I saw his hands on you. I saw you kissing him."
"I broke it off," her voice is low; tears are piercing her eyes, "I couldn't sleep with him."
"…you wanted to though," Jay begins walking towards the exit of the interrogation room. However, his heart pulls him to an abrupt stop. He's standing next to Erin; he's calm, and he grabs the back of her head to place a light kiss against her forehead. He wanted her to know he isn't mad. He still loves her and he'll eventually get over it. He just needed time like she did.
Halstead left out of the room, leaving a confused Erin standing in place. She didn't know where they stood. He wasn't mad at her, he was just upset. He was still speaking to her, but he needed to walk out. Erin turned to look at her father, "What's wrong with me?"
"You're strong kiddo." Voight waves her over, "You're the strongest person I know." He's comforting; he watches each hesitant step she takes towards him, "And most kids look up to their parents, but not me, I really look up to you and how strong you are; it's amazing."
"Yeah, well," she nonchalantly shrugs off his compliment, "I get it from my parents."
He opens his arms, "Come here." And the moment she gets within arms distance, he pulls her into a hug, "Don't worry about Halstead. He'll get over it."
Loud chattering travels down the halls and eventually surrounds the interrogation room. The team was back. They were all out in the bullpen. Voight rises from his seated position, takes Erin's hand and pulls her out of the room.
"Dad, what's next?"
"What do you mean?" They're walking down the hall and soon arrive back to the bullpen.
She looks at Jay; he's avoiding eye contact, "Where does this leave us? We're stuck, right? We have nothing. Is this the end?"
"No," Voight asserts. The fallen silence in the bullpen leaves ample amounts of room for his boisterous voice to affirm. He's shaking his head, "Chad may have been no help, but we still have a good lead thanks to you."
"We're not giving up," Jay adds.
"Thanks to me?" Erin picks up on her father's last words, "What did I do?"
"You helped us realize that this perp knows me," Voight responded, he's backing away from her and heading in the direction of his office, "That's a start. That's a lead…and we're going to start working on it."
Erin remains standing in the center of the bullpen. She sees her dad and husband enter his office and he quietly closes the door behind them. She's had enough of this for one day. She'll be back, but she couldn't just jump headfirst into all this investigating. Erin needed a break already and she technically didn't even do anything.
"Hey Erin," Burgess greets, walking up the stairs to Intelligence.
The bullpen remains silent. She turns to watch her best friend approach her; her eyes couldn't help but fall upon her ringless finger, "Hi Burgess."
"I know you had a long day and I just got off," she's easing the question out. Each member of Intelligence is curious to hear what the question is and how Erin will respond to it. Burgess doesn't look in the direction of Ruzek; her eyes remained focused on Erin, "Did you want to go out and grab a glass of wine or something?"
It's silent. Burgess waits for a response. The stoic face of Erin stretches out into a relieved smile, "Screw the glass; I need to drink straight from the bottle."