It was never easy sleeping without Jay, but Erin found that night particularly hard. Every time she tossed and turned, her mind flooded with memories they'd shared in that bed. Lazy Saturday mornings watching old movies, Sunday evenings in the dark - nights after tough days where she just needed the taste of him, days when they had the time to take it slow and appreciate every inch of each other. She saw the cruel irony in it all and wanted to scream at the universe for bestowing this on her - that the memories seemed to haunt her and couldn't land in Jay's mind at all.

Erin was late in for work that morning. Well, not technically, since she wasn't scheduled to be in at all. When she walked into the precinct, Hank had a look of affection on his face, glad to see her back in her unit. But when he truly took in her expression, he knew happiness wasn't the right emotion to have around her.

After calling her into his office, Hank sank into his desk chair and waited to be updated.

"He moved out." Erin breathed after an eternity.

Hank sat up a little. "Why?"

She sank into a chair and put her head in her hands. Breathing in slow, she let out all of the emotions she managed to hold in overnight and this morning in front of Lucy.

"I downplayed his PTSD. It's… It's pretty bad. And then yesterday I walked in on him and Lucy, and all I could picture was him hurting her. So I freaked out, he walked out… Came back hours later saying he was seeing a therapist and moving out."

"Permanently?"

"He says no, but… Come on, Hank, we both know it will be." She felt tears prick her eyes. She'd called Kim that night and managed to hold it all together, but she finally felt the dam was about to burst.

"He's trying to protect you, Erin. Both of you. Maybe having some space won't be the worst thing right now."

"And his memory?" She blurted out. "We've all given up on that coming back, right?"

They fell into a sad silence. Finally, Hank broke it. "Take today off. God knows you could use it."

"No," Erin expressed immediately. "Lucy's at daycare, and Jay'll be going back to the apartment to pick up some clothes, and I really don't wanna be there when he does. I need a distraction today."

Hank nodded, but still reserved a fatherly tone. "Alright. But say the word and you're outta here. Family comes first, you know that."

Of course Erin knew that. What she wondered was, did Jay?

"I've got to admit, detective, your cases is one of the rarest I've seen." Dr. Charles commented, eyes peeking over his glasses and a notebook in hand. His office was glaring to Jay. "So, let's start at the beginning, shall we? Tell me about yourself."

Jay stumbled over his words a little. "Alright, well… Okay, I'm married. I have a daughter. We-"

"Instead, Jay," Dr. Charles interjected. "Tell me things you know. Not things you've been told. After the crash, you didn't remember being married to Erin or Lucy being your daughter, is that right?" Jay shook his head. "So tell me what you did know."

"I was in the Intelligence Unit, 21st district. I have a brother…" Jay wracked his brain. Was that it? Was that his life - work and minimal family?

"And your parents?"

Jay readjusted his position. He gritted his teeth and tried to unlock the memories in his head that he'd stored away. For good reason, too. Either they made him angry or sad, or in some situations, down right depressed.

Dr. Charles helped him a little. "Your mother."

Jay looked a way for a second. "She's been gone for a while. Cancer."

"My condolences." Dr. Charles offered, and there was something about his face that made Jay appreciate the sentiment. "And your father?"

"He comes in and out of town. I don't… We don't talk. The last time I saw him was two years ago." He said, but then thought of the inaccuracy of his words. "But that was before the accident, so it must've been around eight years. And Erin said that we ran into him-"

"You don't have to worry with information that's been relayed to you, Jay. Hopefully as we progress, that'll all come a little easier to you." Jay understood the undertones, as it was one of his main aims for being there. To unlock the memories the accident had repressed. To remember who he was.

"Now, can you explain to me a little the relationship between you and your father?"

Jay sucked in a breath. Where could he begin? Truthfully, he didn't want to begin anywhere. Talking about his dad felt like a punch to the stomach.

"We just don't see eye to eye."

"…Because?"

"We run in different circles. He's more elitist, I'm more… Grounded."

"And his relationship with your mother? What was that like?"

Jay ran his sweaty palms across the material of his jeans. Hit bit down on his lip and forced himself to co-operate. As much as he loathed discussing such topics, it was for Erin and Lucy.

"He belittled her. Pushed her around. He broke her."

"Abused her?"

Jay ran his hand across his jaw. All he felt, every second of every day, was guilt. Guilt for getting into an accident, guilt for causing Erin stress, guilt for not being a good enough husband, a good enough father, guilt for strangling her, guilt for being someone Erin couldn't trust around her daughter. And now, he was unlocking guilt from his past.

He nodded.

"Does some part of you feel responsible?"

Jay nodded again. It was something he and Will had never discussed - mostly because Will and their father had a different relationship than Jay did. Though he knew that Will never condoned his actions, he still understood them in a way Jay never could.

"Well, Jay, if there's one thing I want you take away from this session, it's this: We shouldn't have to carry around the ghosts of those we couldn't save. Every time you think of your mother, or times that, as a boy, you didn't step in to help her, I want you to say that."

Jay held Dr. Charles' gaze, the words resonating within him as they were repeated to him.

We shouldn't have to carry around the ghosts of those we couldn't save.

Erin sat at Hank's kitchen table, moving around the pasta on her plate. Though it looked and smelt delicious, her appetite just wasn't there.

When Voight had suggested that Lucy and Erin come round for dinner after their shift was over, it didn't take long for her to agree. Something about going back to that apartment made Erin feel sick, so her plan was to hide out at Hank's for as long as possible.

She'd told Lucy that morning that "daddy's just gonna stay with Uncle Will for a while. He's a bit sick, but when he's better, he'll be home." Of course Lucy didn't understand. Erin could see in her little blue eyes she was thinking he'd be back tomorrow. Erin didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Erin toyed with the food on her place, in the moment mesmerised by it and the memory it inspired.

The sound of Erin's fork scraping the plate was all that could be heard in her apartment. She and Jay sat in silence as they ate - or more aptly, Erin ate and Jay stared into space.

Erin frowned and looked down as she spoke. "You haven't touched your pasta."

"I'm not hungry." Jay replied monotonously.

If she thought she'd get a decent response out of him, she'd point out that he hadn't been hungry for the past week. The only appetite he seemed to have was for a neat whisky. But she bit back the words and simply shovelled another mouthful of food into her mouth.

It was like looking at a ghost. It was as though he was an empty shell - she could see the old him behind his eyes but everything else was gone.

As he stared off into space, she wished she knew what was breaking him. She wondered if she could help, or if it was going to be like watching a car crash happen in slow motion. The thought made her sick, and in the moment she vowed to seek professional help as soon as possible. Before he disappeared altogether.

"Lucy's a real good girl." Hank's gruff voice broke through Erin's cloudy headspace. "Unlike her mother who hasn't touched her food."

"No ice-cream for mama." Lucy laughed, smearing pasta across her lips.

"That's right." Hank agreed. "More for Luce and Grandpa, then."

Erin watched Voight, how his eyes lit up when Lucy spoke or he couldn't contain a single smile. It was nice seeing him like this. It made her heart warm.

When the doorbell rang, the sight of Hank shovelling food into Lucy's extended mouth was too cute to interrupt.

"I'll get it." Erin offered, getting up from the table. When she approached the front door and opened it, she felt herself at a little loss for words.

"Hey." Jay said. He looked exhausted.

"What are you doing here?" Erin's tone came out soft. She'd built up anger and destruction over the day, but something about him just made her entirely soft.

"I don't wanna ruin your night. I just wanted to see her for a little while."

Erin couldn't fault his love for his daughter. And she could hate him all she wanted for walking out, but he still showed up.

"Sure. Of course." She let him in and closed the door behind. He hovered awkwardly, and she understood that he hadn't been in Hank's house before the accident. He was a stranger there.

She let him into the kitchen and waited for Lucy to catch a glimpse of him and explode.

"Daddy!" She screamed, chomping on the last piece of pasta.

"Hey!" He said, enthusiasm bursting from his smile. He picked up Lucy from her chair and spun her around a little, before bouncing her on his hip and landing a few kisses on her cheek.

Erin wrapped her arms around herself as she hung in the doorway. The sight simultaneously made her heart swell and broke it a little, too. After a second, she caught Hank's gaze. She was grateful for the look of strength he gave her.

"Still sick, daddy?" Lucy asked.

Jay faltered for a second, but quickly got up to speed. "Yeah. Not for long, though, I hope."

"I miss you." She sang, pulling on the hem of his shirt.

"I miss you, too." Erin tried to catch out any falsity in his tone, but failed to find any. She wanted him to be the villain, but she knew the day she'd met him that he was the hero.

"Mama misses you, as well." Lucy babbled, pointing over to Erin.

Jay turned to see Erin. No matter what happened, there was still something between them. An unspoken language flittered between them.

"I miss her, too." Jay said, this time with bare, raw, emotion.

Erin looked away, afraid her eyes would glaze over from the intensity of it. Her mind was so conflicted, she didn't know how to feel.

When it was getting later, Jay knew it was his time to go. He kissed into Lucy's hair several times, telling her he'd see her again soon. Then his eyes found Erin. He thought maybe she could feel it too; that aching to hold the other close. The ring on his finger meant that he could kiss her whenever he wanted, pull her close and hold her for as long as they both needed. But life just wasn't that fair. So instead he was left with muttering a goodbye from across the room.

As he left, Hank followed him out to the porch. They stood in silence for a moment.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Hank said, an ominous tone seeping through.

"No, I don't." Jay murmured. "But I'm trying to fix the mess I made and I think this is how to do it."

Hank held his gaze a second longer before turning to go back in the house. As he did, Jay called out.

"I hate myself for what I did to her." They both knew he was talking about the marks on Erin's neck. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to make it up to her, but I'm never gonna stop trying."

Hank's expression looked akin to something reminiscent of respect. He nodded at Jay before turning to leave again. "Get some rest, Halstead."

Thank you for reading!