Title: Spring Forward
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 and The Way From Here (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to SEASON 5 of Chicago PD.
THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13 — CHURNING.
TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — ONE AHEAD OF THIS AND ONE AFTER THIS PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.
ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12.
TODAY'S CHAPTER will be reordered in the next several days.
Erin could feel Jay stewing on the opposite side of the bed. The nervous energy and tension was just radiating off him. But even if she somehow had been able to miss that, there was the fact that he'd rolled over to his side – his back to her. And that just wasn't how he slept. At least not since she'd been pregnant. She'd gotten into the habit of rebuilding the pillow wall between them at night just to get some space. Because every time they saw each other during the pregnancy, he pretty much made it his mission to try to make up for any lost time with the babies. And he seemed to think that while she was trying to sleep was prime time to do that.
He was always up against her and his hand resting against them now. It did nothing for her sleep. She wasn't sure it did much for the babies' rest either. Though, she'd admit that sometimes it seemed like Jay was around the initial excitement it stirred out of them inside of her, usually seemed to give way to a bit of calm.
It was strange. But she supposed in a lot of ways it did that to her too. That she'd anticipate his visits to New York. That she'd be happy and excited and then just calm when he got there. That he usually had that affect on her – for a lot of the time she'd known him, this calming presence in her life – because he had her back. Over and over. Or at least he was a calming presence when he wasn't annoying her or outright pissing her off. And that happened more than often enough too. He was almost as talented as that as he was a being a calming presence – a back to be held again, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to reach down. Just a friend. A partner. So how fucking stubborn and annoying and obnoxious and frustrating and pushy – and depressing – he could be balanced out.
But in retrospect, she knew it was more likely that the twins were reacting to her energy and whatever bodily chemical and hormonal reactions that all caused more so than Jay being there. Though, she liked to think some of it was them learning to know and recognize him too. But that was likely hopeful thinking and a lot of projecting.
Her own thinking – which did almost as much for her sleep than being this pregnant, Jay invading her space or him laying there stewing on the opposite side of the bed. It was probably keeping her awake just as much. But she'd pretty much given up on getting anything that truly resembled sleep. There was no such thing as getting comfortable anymore. It didn't matter how many pillows she had on the bed.
She rolled onto her back from her own attempt at side sleeping and stretched her arm across the width of the bed. He was really huddled at the edge. Her fingers barely reached to tickle down his spine.
He jerked a bit. She knew she hadn't woke him. She knew he wasn't asleep. But he must've been surprised by the touch without warning. She felt him tense.
"What's going on over there?" she put to him. Calm, evenly. Giving him a moment or two or three to collect himself. That he always seemed to need when he got a touch he wasn't expecting. More when it was a touch he didn't like or didn't want. Though, she didn't think the little tickle down the spine was in that category. Not with where they were right now. She'd just taken him off guard. More proof he'd been tumbling around in his own thoughts likely too deeply.
He finally stirred a bit, though and rolled in her direction. Back onto his side. But facing her. The pillows still piled between them as he examined her. An examination anymore that always seemed to show he was much more interested in the mound that was their children than much of anything else. Most nights. And most nights – now – that was generally just fine. As long as his eyes eventually set on her rather than all the anxiousness he managed to project at their babies with that look of his.
"I'm sorry I've been U.C. so much the past few weeks," he muttered at her.
She gave a little shrug and reached to adjust a couple of the pillows and to roll up onto her side too. Though he had to grab at her a bit and help. Turtle on her back syndrome anymore. Sometimes she was impressed that was able to sit up in bed and haul herself up and down off the couch anymore. But she found his eyes after she was repositioned.
"That's the job, Jay," she said.
He sighed a little at that and rubbed at the bridge of his nose and his forehead like that was going to slow down his own thoughts.
"I might not be getting home much the next few days," he said. "Until this …" he shook his head.
The struggle of talking and not talking about their caseloads, their careers, their jobs. It was going to be something … they would likely struggle with for most of their relationship. That they were still trying to figure out how to manage and talk-around even a year into it. It was different when there was half a country between them. In the same house – these past few weeks – it was harder. Stranger. Frustrating in a new way that was requiring its own adjustment.
"I'm not a Badge Bunny," she allowed. "You're a cop. I might have a different job title now, but I still know the job. I remember the job. And I know that you going undercover and not being home every night of the week is going to be part of our deal."
"Maybe it shouldn't be," he said. He stared at her. His eyes were full of question – almost like he was asking permission.
Erin set her hand on his bicep. He didn't flinch that time. "Babe, right now, there's not a lot of options in front of you. You're going to have to ride it out. We need one income coming in. After we see how the chips fall – you're still feeling like you need a change, then … we'll figure it out. But, it should be for you—"
"Not anymore," he interrupted. "It's not just about me."
She kept his eyes. "Jay," she stressed firmly. "Lots of families are cop families – and they manage."
"With divorce and kids who either hate them or hardly know them."
"Being cops aren't prerequisites for any of that," she raised her eyebrow at him.
And that hand went back to scrubbing at his hairline and the bangs he didn't have like he wanted them brushed up and back even more – with no product beyond whatever grease and sweat and grim he'd collected that day already. And had already showered away – because he always seemed to head straight for the shower after a U.C. gig. Like he needed to get all of it – the case, the cover, the person he'd had to pretend to be, the people he'd had to associate with, the things he'd had to do, and the lies he'd had to tell – off of him. As soon as he got in the door. Before he got near her. Or their unborn kids now. To keep it away from them and out of this home life and family life they were trying to make.
"It's just ridiculous timing," he muttered. "The babies, you."
"Jay, I'm fine. They're fine. We have really exciting days being glorified data and document analysts staring at a computer screen all day. I literally move from the bed to the couch to the kitchen counter with some bathroom trips. Followed by playing taxi service and tutor to Ethan and Henry. You aren't missing much."
"Your move," he said flatly.
She shrugged. "I'm pretty stuck in the lease. Maybe our first family road trip will be to New York in the summer. Or we'll just have to suck it up. You and Will make the trip. Or I'll pay a mover."
"To pack up your place?" he put to her flatly.
"Or Jack," she suggested. "Benson and Cassidy's kid. He might be willing to pack it. I think he still comes this way to see that … it's complicated … on-again, off-again thing he has with the girl. Maybe he'd be willing to drive the boxes too. It's not like I had much there. Or anything I really need. We'll figure it out."
He stared at her and then sighed. "I just feel like …," the hand came down and gestured at her belly. The twins. "A ticking time bomb."
"Of your own making," she deadpanned at him.
"I'm going to be U.C. and they're going to decide to show."
His hand landed on the babies at that. But they didn't immediately stir. They actually hadn't been that active that day. It was a little strange. But also a relief. It was nice to get a day where she didn't feel like she was constantly arguing with them about keeping still and finding a position they could all be comfortable. Though, she also knew that was likely an argument she'd be having with them for … the rest of her life. She'd say eighteen. But she'd done a lot of self-reflecting the past months, and she'd come to realize that keeping still and calming down and just trying to be comfortable in the situation and her own skin was an argument … a discussion … that her and Hank still had a father-daughter into her thirties. And when you got down to it, a lot of it was the cause of the rift in her relationship with her family a year ago. And with Jay. So she could only expect so much out of her kids. Or maybe she should know exactly what to expect. The kind of battles she was going to have to fight. And it was likely going to be a bit of karma.
"My understanding of labor is admittedly not as PBS-educated as yours. But I think when they're going to show we'll have enough warning that you'll be there," she said and allowed her hand to move up to sit on his scruff. Maybe him being undercover for at least another few days was a good thing there. He was at the in-between stage right now. It was just scruff. She didn't mind it on him. But it wasn't as soft as it was to the touch when it filled in just a bit more. Another three or so days and it'd be that soft down that made him more kissable than he was. Not all scratchy. If the twins did decide to arrive they didn't need cuddles or kisses from a Daddy all scratchy against their newborn skin.
"Not if it's an emergency," he said. "Not if shit goes sideways with this bust and they can't pull me out quick. Hank shouldn't—"
And she interrupted him. "Hank needs to treat you as a subordinate under his command, you know that. That's part of the deal too."
He gazed at her. Some anger just flickered in his eyes, though. "Or he's got me on a U.C. assignment to keep me out of what he's got going on between him and Al and Woods."
Erin let out a slow sigh and shrugged at him. They both knew there was more than likely a lot of truth to that. And that it wasn't exactly part of Hank treating Jay as a subordinate. There was the personal – family – motivation in that too. Keeping him out of it – to try to protect her and him and these kids. The family that was left – and was being made. So that hopefully something was left of them as the chips kept falling into place faster and faster now. And despite Hank's spoken confidence that things were going to work out – even though he wasn't going to talk about the logistics or details – the fact that he'd had Jay undercover, out of the bullpen and away from the District and out of sight (and hear shot of everything going on) spoke volumes too.
"That too," she acknowledged. "But I really don't think anything is going to happen."
"Twin pregnancies are unpredictable," he interjected. Again. It'd become one of his favorite lines. "In the third trimester – all bets are off."
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Jay," she pressed evenly. "You were convinced they'd get here at twenty-nine weeks."
The reality was he was kind of catastrophizing this entire pregnancy. And, part of her understood. That he wasn't there with her – so he worried. Because he was an organizer and planner – and thrived in situations where he had control and his actions helped define the outcome – and that this didn't fit neatly into that. And when he felt out of control – he could get trigger-y. And, as much as he was keeping it together and rising to the occasion throughout this pregnancy, there'd been a lot of walking through minefields with him when they were in the same city together.
His PTSD was showing – even though she could see he was trying to manage it. And she knew … there were likely going to be a lot of triggers and memories and just things with becoming parents and raising kids – a son – that was going to bring up things for him. There was going to be stuff they'd all need to work through and figure out how to navigate and cope with as a family.
She was going to hope that some of it might be a bit easier after the twins got there. Because hopefully then he'd feel like he had some kind of control – as much as you could have with kids, which Erin was pretty sure even being a big sister to Ethan had taught her wasn't always as much as you'd like when it came to protecting and helping them. But right now – he could get into … a bit of a state (the kind he tried to mask) when it came to trying to control this pregnancy in ways that neither of them could control or predict.
"And then it was thirty-two weeks," she nodded at him. "We're at thirty-two. Passed it – and this week's scan was fine. I'm fine."
His hand moved and sat where they knew was Baby A's side of her womb. "He's not."
"Jay …," she sighed at him.
But he kept looking at her. She rub her through at his cheek bone. She knew he hadn't gotten to be there for this week's scan. Or the week before's. She could tell it was driving him crazy. Crazier.
"You saw the print-outs," she pressed gently. "Our daughter is a space hog. She's all stretched out. She's got him pushed up into a corner. Being the pushy, bossy sister – just like you've been saying for weeks. You can get down there and tell her off about it again, if you want. Or, I'm sure you can butt heads with her about it for years to come in a few more weeks."
He gave her a thin smile and shifted his eyes down to them again. "But he wants you to go in twice this week," he muttered. "Since he's still smaller …"
"One twin is almost always smaller," she parroted what she'd been told by the doctor.
"Does one twin always have placenta issues?" he muttered back.
She sighed at him.
"I should be there for the second one this week," he said.
She exhaled. "You'll have to take that up with your boss."
He kept her eyes. But didn't react to that. "You should ask about them doing a Doppler," he said. "For blood flow. The umbilical cord."
She raised an eyebrow. "Jay. We have a good OB. If he felt—"
"Did he say anything about steroids? In case they—"
"No," she pressed more firmly. "Because we are working on the expectation that these kids are going to be delivered at thirty-seven weeks before he has his Memorial Day getaway. And we are going to stick with …" she shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself for saying this, but "… visualizing that birth plan and that outcome. Okay?"
He stared at her. For a long, long time. But then he shifted in the bed. His head went down to rest on the roundness that was the babies. His ear landing near where their son's head should be too from the latest imaging. And he listened.
"I don't know …," he finally muttered. "Eth's pretty insistent that their coolness factor will increase ten-fold if they make their appearance on May the Fourth."
She allowed a small smile. "Well, let's hope the force isn't with that birth prediction."
Jay made a quite amused sound and listened a bit more. "It'd be a pretty decent birthday present."
Erin scratched her nails lightly against his scalp, threading her fingers through his short hair.
"Better than last years?" she teased.
She could feel him smile against her belly.
"I'm not sure preemies born that early constitute that great of birthday present," she said.
He made a sound but flashed her a grin. "But it would make for some pretty epic birthday parties in a few years."
"Unless they hate Star Wars," she suggested.
He let out a fake little gasp and shook his head, setting his ear back against them. "You aren't going to hate Star Wars, are you Luke and Liea?"
"No and no," Erin said to the name threading her fingers through his short hair. "And the Star Wars thing is fifty-fifty."
He gave her a little smile. "Does that mean I get one Star Wars buddy?"
She raised her eyebrow. She'd meant that genetically – they had a fifty percent chance of barely tolerating his and Eth's Star Wars thing as much as she did.
"Twenty-five percent chance?" she tried instead. Math wasn't her strong point. That's why Jay wasn't just Eth's go-to Star Wars buddy. He was his baby brother's go-to math buddy too.
But Jay just smiled a little again and didn't correct her or challenge the math. And went back to trying to hear what was going on on the inside of their twins little world and plane of existence. Caressing a bit at the bare, taunt skin on her belly. She knew he was searching for a little bulged he might be able to identify as a head or elbow or foot of heel – if they were still in the same position as they were at her earlier scan.
"Is all that really what you were over there spinning about?" she asked after giving him some time for his exploration.
He shifted his head – switched ears – so he could look up at her and listen at the same time.
"My U.C.'s got me in Canaryville a lot," he said flatly.
"Mmm …," she acknowledged carefully and rubbed her thumb against his temple.
He got quiet again. For another while. "It's made me think about my mom. Not on the job. Just …" he shock his head at himself but a thin smile grew across his face and his hand moved a bit.
Their boy just moved. She could feel it too. She gave Jay a smile too.
Apparently that small reassurance – that he was okay and in there and still kicking – was enough to calm Jay. He shifted again on his own and got back up closer to her – eye-to-eye – in bed. His hand resting on her hip and her side and her arm. Restlessly drawing circles with his thumb as he moved – because he wasn't done stewing and spinning.
"Not that Bridgeport is a big leap, but I've been feeling sort of … glad that my dad pushed that move on her," he finally said. "Got us out of Canaryville. It's just … still … so …"
"Yeah …," Erin acknowledged. White. Irish. Poor. Cracker. Insular. Hostile. Tough in all the worst ways. As much as it was a badge of honor for some, it also came with its own reputation and baggage. Like so many Chicago neighborhoods. And how you grew up and were brought up.
"Do you think I should tell my dad …?"
She arched her eyebrow. "That you're glad you moved to Bridgeport?" She knew that wasn't what he was asking. But he also needed to say it himself.
"About the pregnancy," he raised his eyebrow – with a touch of annoyance – right back at her.
"I'm sure Will's already done that," she said.
He exhaled and moved his hand back to the twins. "Should I talk to him before they get here?"
"I guess that depends on what you think you want out of it," Erin said.
He stared at her.
"Do you want him to be a part of their lives? Of our lives?" she asked directly.
The continued stare and the lack of answer said more than enough.
"And are you going to be upset if he doesn't want to be? Or he makes some comment that … is less than supportive?" When she really expected that he was more likely to be outright hurtful. He'd say something that would trigger Jay in a whole different way than this pregnancy had grated at him.
Jay shifted his eyes back to watch his hand feeling around the pregnancy bump – mound, hill, mountain – at this point.
"Hank's made a point to say his piece once per trimester," Jay muttered.
Erin sighed a little at that and stared beyond him for a moment. But then found his eyes.
"That's got more to do with where his head is at than you and your father," she said and moved back to find his eyes. "He's worried. And he's worried that if this plays out …" she shook her head and exhaled again. Because she wasn't going to say that part out loud. "That we won't have much help. But, Jay, Hank doesn't know any of the details around you and your dad no matter what he thinks he knows. And, I think we both know that you dad isn't going to be much help. Ever. Even if he says all the right things and doesn't just say something to upset you, do you really think he's going to show up?"
"Will's been showing up more than I thought."
"And you've been working on re-establishing your relationship with your brother for almost four years, Jay. And he's still not exactly Mr. Dependable. You still have to … bribe him to get help. Or he wants something. Or wants to vent at you."
"Isn't that family," he muttered.
She exhaled again. He had a point. And he didn't. She knew – they both knew – that the dynamic he had with his brother, and his dad, couldn't even be compared to what she had with Hank and Ethan and Justin and Olive and Henry. Not matter how strange and dysfunctional their own dynamics were.
"What kind of example am I setting for them if I don't have a relationship with my dad? If their grandfather lives in the same fucking city as us and we never see him?" he pressed.
"Jay …" she sighed out, trying to organize her thoughts quickly. On an argument they hadn't had yet because it was a topic he didn't want to talk about. And it was one that she'd gotten comfortable with not having over the course of this pregnancy. Over the course of Jay's therapy sessions. Because it became more and more apparent that including Patrick Halstead in their family was just going to make things that much harder for them as a family. "If Hank said—"
"I want to have a good relationship with my kids."
"And, you will," she pressed at him. "If you work at it. Because you aren't your father."
"But my dad's the fucking example I have," Jay said.
"No," Erin pressed again. "He's your father. He wasn't much of a dad. And you have all kinds of examples – men, friends, partners – in your life of what being a dad is or can be. So you go pick and choose, and figure it out. Same as me."
He rolled onto his back for a moment and stared at the ceiling. "Erin, you had Hank and Camille. And I see the way he is with you. Your relationship-"
She cut him off, rolling herself into his space that time and looking him in the eye. "And you know that Hank his has his flaws. He's made some fucking big mistakes. Our relationship isn't perfect. At all. And his relationship with Justin is – was - a train wreck for about the last twelve years of his life."
"But him and Eth—" he tried to argue but she pressed back in again.
"He has had to work his ass off to have the relationship with Ethan he does, Jay," she pressed. "Hank didn't know how to relate to him as a toddler and preschooler. At all. The dinosaur stuff and all the weird memorization thing. Him and Camille fought about it all the time. All the time. He was just getting his head around Ethan being Ethan and accepting that and trying harder to fucking relate to it when Camille got killed and Ethan's brain got scrambled. And then he went and sent him to boarding school and fucked up that relationship all over again in whole new ways. He's had to … be a completely different father than he was to me or Justin in a whole lot of ways to establish what he has with Ethan now. And it's likely about to be completely fucked up again any day now. So Hank and Ethan, me and Hank, Hank and Justin – they are not the epitome of what you should be as a father. Or what I want you to be as a father. I love you. I respect you. You're a good man. You're a good friend. A partner. You're a great quasi big brother to Ethan. You're a good brother to your older brother. And I know you're going to be able to apply all that to you being your own kind of dad whatever – despite – the kind of relationship you had with your father."
They stared at each other. His hand moving to rest on her hip. His forearm grazing at an angle across the twins. And she reached and touched his cheek again.
"What about lost time," he said.
"That's either a shrink line or a Hank line," she said.
He only exhaled. No comment.
"Okay," she allowed, "what does your therapist say?"
He barely shrugged at her. And she kept his eyes waiting for more – demanding it – but he stayed steady in his silence.
"Okay," she finally conceded with some annoyance. "Fine. Then lets say your dad does show up, is that something … someone … you really want in our lives? In our kids' lives?"
Nothing. Still. He didn't say anything. He just looked at her. With those eyes. Soft, quiet and hurt.
She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "I haven't told Bunny," she said. "I'm not going to tell Bunny. I don't want Bunny anywhere near them. I don't even want her to know they exist."
"That's different," Jay pushed out. Finally.
Erin met his eyes firmly. "What your father did to you might have been different," she said. "But what he does—"
"I hardly see him."
She stared at him harder. "You don't see him. But I still see what he does to you. There's what he did, Jay. And there's what all that means he still does to you and your life. And I hate that. I hate what he does to you – now, today, still – just like you hate what Bunny does to me every time I let her back into my life. And, that's the same. And that hurt, upset, broken, confused, angry person you become whenever something comes up related to your father or you end up having to interact with him - that's not the dad I want our kids having to see on a regular basis. Because, Jay – even with the PTSD, what you've been through – that person he brings out in you, that's not you. It's not the man I know. Or love. Or want to be the DAD – not just the father – to my children. So if that's the person their grandfather is going to bring out – I don't think it's a great idea to entertain the possibility of him being a part of our lives – their lives – right now."
Quiet settled between them again. The gaping hole of honesty. There'd been a fucking lot of honesty anymore. Lately. These past few months. Uncomfortable honesty. Honesty that often crept up and blew up. And then fizzled out to this – silence. But at least it didn't usually feel uncomfortable. It just sat there between then. This quiet acknowledgement of what the other person said. That usually meant that it was either taken at face-value or that it needed to sit there between them for a while – with them alone – before they could talk about it again without that explosion of emotion. But at least they were talking. Communicating. And the blow-ups didn't seem as scary anymore. Because there wasn't the kind of blow back she might've expected before. It was like they hadn't found a deal-breaker yet no matter how … upset, hurt, frustrated … they made each other. Or that all those feelings were worth it – for the other feelings it meant they got to have in their life. For the other person. Or for these two little people they'd created between them and both seemed to want to have the chance to know. And to give them something different – better – than what they'd had as little kids.
"Not ideal …," he near whispered.
"It's not," Erin acknowledged quietly too. "But we don't excel at ideal situations anyway. We excel at 'life's not fair'."
"Don't I know it," he muttered.
"You want to spit out whatever you're trying to spit out? So we can both maybe manage some sleep."
"Maybe I just … this past month, past few weeks on U.C. … I just wish we had more time to work out some of these issues."
She shrugged a little. "We do," she said. "We've got as much time to work it all out as we're willing to give it. All in, right?"
He allowed a thin-lipped smile. But it was still more than a little wounded. And his hand moved and settled on her again. And Baby A again gave him a little kick. An order to calm down and get his head on straight. Or to just not worry so fucking much, Daddy.
Jay smiled a bit at that sensation and then looked back to her eyes.
Erin arched her eyebrow his way. "You going to listen to him?" Jay rolled his eyes a little. "That mean you're done."
"Not quite," he said, keeping his hand in place and staring at it for a beat. "Can I name him?" he asked carefully. "My son? Can I name him?"
She let that sit in a silence for a long moment too. "Not Luke," she finally managed. "Even if Ethan gets his birth-day wish."
"Yoda?" Jay suggested with a grin.
"No," she told him firmly – despite the tease.
But he just smiled more that it even got a reaction and leaned in for a kiss. A linger one. And then he was done. For now. Maybe if he'd managed to put in that request – somewhat reasonable request, even though it asked her to release some control and decision in this pregnancy – the conversation might've been done long before it started. But at least he was shutting up now. For now. And she could feel that smile of his against her lips. And that said more than the conversation sometimes too.
AUTHOR NOTE:
THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY. IT IS NEW MATERIAL. THIS CHAPTER IS SET PRIOR TO CHAPTER 13 — CHURNING.
TWO MORE CHAPTERS WERE BE POSTED THIS AFTERNOON — ONE AHEAD OF THIS AND ONE AFTER THIS PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU CHECK.
ONE IS CROSS-POST FROM HEREAFTER FOR THOSE THAT DON'T READ THAT STORY.. The OTHER IS A CROSSPOST FROM HEREAFTER AS WELL (BUT IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY) and is set prior to chapter 12.
TODAY'S CHAPTER will be reordered in the next several days.
Your readership, reviews, comments and feedback are appreciated.