Author: ZombieJazz
Fandom: Chicago PD
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.
Summary: Erin and Jay work on surviving her pregnancy while still apart. They only have a handful of months left to sort out their relationship and their expectations for their careers and future as a family. Set in the Interesting Dynamics AU and post-S4 finale.
SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted), Hereafter, and Onward Thankfully. This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.
Erin barely glanced over at the stairs as she heard Jay come in the door downstairs and his fussing around down there.
He was as bad as Hank about no boots in the house – and taking off your coat so you looked like you were staying a while. Though, unlike Hank's house there wasn't a family living there – yet. It was just Jay most of the time and his collection of shoes pilled near the door still made it look like there were multiple people living there. Likely teenaged boys involved in all different kinds of sports activities. Not one man who insisted you needed a different pairs of shoes for just about everything. It was one of his quirks that she didn't quite get – no matter who many times he insisted on explaining why his shoe fetish made some sort of sense (in his mind).
Though, he did defend it with such ferocity, she pretty much had decided that it had something to do with either his childhood – and his mother or how his father treated him and his sporting and athletic activities and just rules they had in that house; the abuse that he experienced as a teen (and the notable absence of any sort of cleats in his piled collection of footwear); or something to do with Afghanistan and the Rangers … and the things he'd carried there and still carried with him now that he was home.
Erin had stopped herself from pointing out to him that the fucking shoes were pretty clearly a visible piece of his baggage he wasn't able to put down yet. That he might not ever be able to put down. Though, he'd have to get it under control after they had growing kids. Because four people's shoes, boots, winter boots, and she was sure sports gear clogging up the cramped up space between the garage door and the little hallway down to the bathroom downstairs would drive her fucking crazy. No matter how neatly Jay lined it all up – toe to toe and heel to heel. She'd go even more crazy if they ended up sitting just inside the door down there. You wouldn't be able to open the fucking door if people started piling shoes there, which was exactly why she knew that was going to be exactly where the kids would kick off their shoes and boots and coats.
An envitable – that, like pretty much anything else she mentioned to Hank about having kids or raising children, he passed off with a "get used to it". The looming storm of reality. That they would be living in a fucking tornado – more than they already were – for the next … eighteen years. That were nearly two-thirds of her thus far. A scary thought. That's a lot of years.
"Hey …," she did allow, though, as she spotted him bound up the steps.
He gave her a thin smile. It was tired. She could see that in his face too. "Hey …," he said. And, there, she could hear it in his voice too.
"I could smell this before I even got in the door," he smiled a bit more at her and came over to her at the stove top as she worked on stirring in the last bit and get it up to the final simmer.
"I'm practicing being a home-maker," she mumbled at him, as his arms came around her from behind – her and the babies. He'd been finding a lot of excuses to invade her space and cop a feel of the kids since she'd been home that trip. She was mostly tolerating. Though, sometimes she had to remind herself not to elbow him away.
He placed a kiss against the side of her head. "Careful," he warned. "Because if Sally Home-Maker means you'll be whipping up the jambalaya on a regular basis …"
And she did elbow him away at that. But again he only smiled, as he settled next his ass against the cupboard next to the stove and just gazed at her. He was doing that a lot too. It felt a little strange – just different – than the usual looks he gave her.
"You need help with anything?" he offered.
She shrugged and gave it another stir. "You want anything with it?"
"Hmm … corn bread," he teased with a fucking shit-eating grin.
"Oh, you can get right on that then," she said.
And the smile just got wider. "Want me to watch it for you?" he asked instead. "So you can sit down."
She shook her head. She wasn't that far gone. She could manage waiting for a pot to come to a simmer. And he knew better than to argue with her about it – just like he'd apparently known better than cracking some comment about if eating something that spicy was smart, or if she was really trying to induce premature labor. But she only ever really felt like eating so much with these kids in her anyway. They'd pretty much made constipation, gas, acid reflux, urinary urgency and nausea a daily staple for her. In some ways – if she could still be garuanteed she'd be getting healthy kids out of it – going into early labor didn't sound so bad. Though, this was … early.
Jay only gave a little nod and skirted around her to gaze into the fridge. "You want salad with it?"
"If you do," she said.
He just made a sound and asked instead, "Do you mind if I have a beer?"
She gave him a glance, as she gave it a final stir, and reached to reduce the temperature a bit. "That kind of tour?" she asked.
It got a sound. And a confirmation, in that he didn't wait for her answer about whether she cared if he drank in front of her or not (she didn't). He already had the bottle out and twisting the cap off.
"I'm likely going to have to go back in later," he said.
"That mean Hank will too?" she asked, as she attempted to nudge by him – but there really wasn't much slipping by anyone at this point. He had to step aside and close the fridge door for there to be room for her to pad over to the couch.
"Doubt it," he said and trailed after her. "Hailey's U.C.. In deep. Might just be my turn to do a short little role play. Adam and Atwater are in the van."
She gave him a small smile at that. "You really supposed to be telling me that?"
He shrugged. "Not likely," he allowed but sat at the opposite end of the couch and reached for her feet. Which she accepted, even though she knew her feet and ankles weren't exactly attractive right now. Nor were her legs – or any trimming and neatening above that. Which she hadn't made any apologies for. And flat out told him if he had a problem with the hair on her legs or the wild jungle growing to cover up whatever gapping hole the twins left if they decided to come out the natural way – it was going to be him who had to deal with it. By either just fucking dealing with it. Or helping. Because at this point, she couldn't reach around his children to deal with any sort of shaving or anything else. Nor did she feel energetic enough or sexy enough to care. And if she – or him - were horny enough, she really doubted some leg or pubic hair was going to be the deal breaker.
She'd pretty much expected him to drop it. But he'd instead looked at her with too much sincerity and said, "Is it bothering you? Because I can help."
She'd initially – and immediately – said no. Because she really hadn't expected him to offer. But maybe she should've. And it just felt … too needy. Or too much like she was somehow incapable. But then she had more time to think about it … and she'd let him. It was a … strange experience. But just add it to the list. And at least it kind of felt nice to get a bit of time with legs that didn't feel like they belonged to the abdominal snowman.
"Eth not here?" he asked, with the nod at the steps to the bedroom levels, as he started to work one-handed – beer in the other - at … doing that thing he did with her swollen and achy feet. The ones that Kim had thought it would be a good idea to tell her wouldn't ever quite shrink after the babies got here – not if she was like her sister who went up multiple shoe sizes during pregnancy and was still thirteen years later. Which would likely mean more shoes coming into their house, if that played true. Because there were some boots that she thought she might be just a ridiculous as Jay about in her ability to give up. They'd been through a lot with her. And she'd fully expected them to fit again after these babies got here.
"If he is, does that mean you're done?" she arced her eyebrow at him.
He gave her a little smile and massaged at them a bit more. "No," he allowed. "Just might mean we have to take a break between rounds if he comes down."
Erin allowed her own quiet smile at that. Eth could be so … bashful … about them showing any kind of physical affection toward each other. But she knew he didn't quite understand. His body and hormones weren't in a place that he quite got it yet. And he didn't see much of that at home. At all.
And they were at the point they were respectful of that. Before – this year a part – they might've … told Eth to deal to a point. Not that they ever did too much in front of him – or Hank. And really, Jay touching her feet shouldn't be some sort of disgusting PDA to a fourteen-year-old. But things were just different now. Since what those kids did to him. Some things that still got said to him at school, even though the school was supposed to put a stop to that and protect him. You never really could after something like that. After the memory – and evidence – of it was still floating around and available to the entire student body … and Internet. It was just a fucking game of Whack-A-Mole to try to … make it disappear for him.
And there'd been moments that week where she'd seen Ethan triggering. Some conversations she'd had with him. About school and the kids and Eva. She'd witnessed it again when Jay had met them at RIC to get his short little training session on how to get the functional electrical stim device in place for Eth. And they'd had to stop. Because Ethan there in his boxers and Jay even touching his leg and foot and she could just see it in him – and so could Jay. Jay ever having to help him get the electrodes and band in place – it just wasn't going to be an option. Not right now.
Right now it was like … he'd been so sick Ethan hadn't had to it in him to deal with what had happened on a mental or emotional level. And now he was so lonely – in so many ways – it was all just oozing off him. And that worried and scared Erin in whole different ways than this pregnancy and the babies did.
"He's not here," Erin provided, though. "I thought we should try to get a full evening to ourselves."
"Sounds good," Jay said.
Though, she wasn't sure how long or full it'd be if he was having to go and meet up with Upton to run some sort of play in whatever case she and whatever sort of cover she was working. Though, she stopped herself from asking more questions. Or stupid questions – like what his role for her U.C. was going to be in this case. Because 1) He shouldn't answer that or be put in a position like he felt like he had to. And 2) She knew it'd sound insecure. And she wasn't insecure about him and Upton being anything but partners at all. Though, Erin knew there was still part of her that was jealous he was someone else's partner – even the job kind. Another part of her was just jealous that he still got to do undercover and he still got to work Intelligence cases and he was still a Chicago cop. Even though parts of her really weren't. Parts of her were really glad for the change she'd had – and the time and space it'd given her to learn about herself and to grow her career and expertise and abilities. In areas she was really good at – even if she'd always excelled at the make-believe game that is U.C. too.
But that's what it was. High-stakes make-believe. And this – now – their life, their relationship – wasn't that anymore. And she'd felt that more and more this pregnancy. As she got closer to the due date. And maybe even more this week. With Jay. Being home. Seeing Ethan and Hank. And their house and getting the nursery ready and being back in Chicago. Being home. And just the way Jay kept on looking at her. Not his scared, worried, terrified looks that he tried to steady and hide. The looks like now. The calm ones. The happy ones. The ones where she could tell – could feel – that he was in love with her, still. That he was in love with this family they were waiting to have together. Already. Even if that meant romanticizing what the future might be like. They'd dealt with enough real life to know that it wouldn't work out the way they imagined it. But it was still sort of nice to think about and talk about. The little and big and random. The cabin and what sports the kids might play and Lake Geneva and taking them to Field and to see the Cubs and the Blackhawks and the zoo. What their interests might be. What they might be like. But you didn't know. You couldn't know. And that was strange. So strange to be growing these two strangers inside of you. And all the nervous anxiety that went with that – but still somehow felt … right. Right enough that she just wanted it to get here – even though they so weren't ready.
Prepared. They weren't ready but they were prepared. Another Jay line this week. And she supposed he'd give him that. He'd found something to take some solace in, and she supposed him feeling that way – or at least spouting it enough until he convinced himself (and her) – gave her some solace too.
"I actually need to tell you something," Erin said.
Jay looked at her, cocking that beer up to his lips. "You're married?" he deadpanned.
"Not quite," she managed – without a smile. "But we likely should talk about that too. Soon."
The beer got tipped up into his mouth again. "Voight giving you the 'honest woman' talk?"
She raised her eyebrow at him. "No," she pressed. "But that comment tells me a lot about where your head is at about it."
He looked at her. "I just still think it's not a conversation worth having until you're officially back. And, at this point, until the twins are here." He took another slow sip. "It's a lot easier to sign paperwork to get married than it is to deal with all the paperwork to get out of it, Erin."
She stared at him. "Because you still think you need an out."
He stared right back and settled into the couch. "That's not what I meant. It's just …" he shook his head. "Complicated."
She gestured at their kids. "Married or not, Jay – complicated."
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and let out a loud exhale. "Look, Erin, you know I'm all in."
She gave her head a little shake and gave him a little shrug. "No, Jay, you aren't. You don't know what you are – because neither of us have a crystal ball. We don't know what's going to happen down the road. But I do know those wedding bands are still sitting in a very nice pine box – waiting for you to be ready to do something with them."
"I'm trying to be open-minded about this. You give me shit about being old fashioned."
"Jay," she sighed at him hard and pulled her feet back. "If there's something I would be more than okay with you being old fashioned about – it'd be you wanting these kids to be born into a two-parent family."
"They are being born into a two-parent family," he defended.
She cocked her eyebrow. "Not what I mean. You know that."
He exhaled. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
She let her own sigh slip from her lips and pulled her feet away, pushing herself a little more upright. She understood where he was coming from – but she also so didn't. Not at this point. Because it just really wasn't what she wanted. Not now. She wanted that family for her kids. She wanted that security – for all of them. That seal on all this being real. The safety net.
"I talked to Brian today," she allowed. "Cassidy."
Jay took a tug at his bottle. "Yeah? He riding you about the telecommuting?"
She gave her head a little shake. "I asked about the logistics of being able to extend it a couple weeks," she said. "Or months."
And the beer came down. "…Really …?"
And she just kept his eyes. "You might not be officially ready for us to … be us. But I'm officially ready to be home. It's where I should be. Where I need to be. And … whether they decide to grace us with their appearance … tonight … or six weeks from now … I think I'm about as officially ready as I'm going to manage to be to be a … a parent. A mom. So …" Erin shrugged. "I'm coming home."
And it just felt so good – right – to say it. Finally.
AUTHOR NOTE:
I might still write a Erin/Ethan and an Erin/Hank chapter (as well as the promised Jay/Will scene) to come before this. But I decided to just do a short, easy one.
I might start jumping ahead with bigger gaps/holes between scenes.
