A/N: There is one line I "borrowed" from TVD.
I hope you like this, I love writing this pining "we-can't-be-together-but-I'm-in-love-anyway" version of Linstead.
Huge thanks to everyone who continually supports me and my crazy ideas!
Prompt #20: Mom Talk - When she talked about her mom, it was always about Camille, and he understood why.
Word count: 1,519
"You've gotta be kidding me," she starts incredulously when he finally opens the door. She has seen a zombie look better than him. He's wrapped into a blanket, the only thing looking out being his face, and she can clearly see he has a fever.
"I brought you soup," she states, waiting for him to invite her in.
"I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Like what? Human? You're an idiot."
He shivers, and she pushes her way into his apartment. When Platt said Jay had called in sick, she thought he maybe had a minor cold. Still, she felt the need to go check on him—he is her partner after all. And he's always there for her. But she didn't imagine he had a full-on flu.
"You'll get sick too," he mumbles when she leads him to the living room, pushing him on the couch with a not very gentle shove.
"I've had a flu shot," she replies, knowing that even if she hadn't, she would've stayed all the same. When she sees him like this, she gets an overwhelming need to take care of him. All she wants is to wrap him in a blanket and cuddle next to him in bed. But that's not possible. They're co-workers, partners even, and with Hank's embargo on in-house romance, there is not much she can do, but bury her feelings somewhere deep underneath.
He eats the soup, but it takes forever, because his hands are trembling and each time he spills everything right back into the bowl, until she finally takes mercy and takes the spoon from him. He tries to object, his ego getting in the way, but she shushes him, and he doesn't exactly have the power to fight her.
After she manages to get some food into him, she searches his apartment for meds, finding some in the bathroom cabinet. It's not an attempt to intrude his privacy, but her eyes do momentarily stop on the box of Trojan Magnum XL on the same shelf. Her eyes widen, and her eyebrow kinks up against her will.
Shaking the thought of that, she heads back to the living room, forcing Jay to swallow some fever medication. Then, she tugs at the blanket he's wrapped in to make him go to bed. She knows, as well as everyone, that the best way to weather a flu is to sleep right through it.
Getting him to bed, she covers him with another blanket, planning to leave and check on him later, but he grabs her hand. It's sweaty and feverish, but it's still Jay's hand, and her heart swells a little.
"Stay." He looks at her, looking so vulnerable, so defeated, that she doesn't know how to refuse. "Please."
He scoots away, making room for her to lie next to him, and he mind drifts to her previous fantasy of cuddling in bed. She'll probably never get closer than this, so she revels in the feeling of proximity.
"This reminds me of when I'd get sick as a kid," he whispers. "My mom would always take care of me." Erin can sense the unspoken words. That nobody has ever since.
She remains silent. Because she didn't have a mom when she was little. Because she once almost died of a fever, until her neighbour noticed and took mercy on her. It's why she still calls her mom Bunny. Because she never did deserve that title.
"I got sick once," she replies after a long pause, choosing a different story. "Camille made me stay at home. I wanted to go to school, but she insisted. Made me her famous soup, and I got to stay in bed all day. It was the first time someone took care of me when I was sick." It was the best, she doesn't add.
"She was your mom," he manages to get out, and she nods. Whenever Erin talked about her mom, it was always about Camille.
"More than that woman ever was," she says with a sad smile. "I remember the first time I called her that. We both cried." She chuckles. "She was the one person who could turn me all mushy." He smiles at that, imagining a younger Erin getting to know what came as default for the rest of them—what it means to have a mom.
He seems a bit better, so she reaches to his forehead to check him temperature. "It's coming down." She feels relief, not really knowing what she would've done if it hadn't.
"When we were little, Will and I almost always got sick at the same time. You know, brothers, sharing a room and all. We were miserable. When dad left for work, mom would let us build a fort and play in there until we fell asleep. Then she would crawl in there with us, and take a nap." He chuckles at the last part. It's one of the fondest memory he has of his childhood.
"She must've been an amazing woman." She knows this, because of this man that's looking at her right now with a wide-eyed gaze. "She raised you."
"She was an angel. Kind. Positive. The exact opposite of my dad. She didn't really know how to change his attitude towards both of us, towards the world really, though she tried. But he loved her. God knows how, but he did. It was a complicated situation, and my dad was just really bitter most of the time. After she died, it got much worse."
He pauses, looking at her. She marvels at how blue his eyes always are, and how he sees right through her like no one else ever could. "She would've loved to meet you."
She smiles at the thought, pondering on why he said that, and when she opens her mouth to say something, he's deep asleep. His body is exhausted from battling the fever, and she knows he's down for the count.
The thought of leaving crosses her mind, but she doesn't want to let him down, and he did ask her to stay. She might as well get some rest while she's here, so she closes her eyes letting herself drift away.
When she wakes up, she finds Jay staring at her, or more like gazing.
"Creep," she mutters, making him chuckle. He looks much better now. The shivers are gone, and so is the ash colour of his face.
"You must've been dreaming about me. Explains the drool," he teases, and that's proof enough that he's back to normal, so she reluctantly gets up from bed. He follows her to the kitchen, where she collects her purse.
"Are you gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. Listen, thanks. I don't really know how to ask for help, so thanks for not making me ask."
"That's why you have backup," she murmurs the familiar line that has become their excuse whenever things get too personal. Whenever her throat starts closing with how she truly feels, her escape is that one line. That she did whatever she did because he's her partner, and not because she's in love with him.
"I really liked that soup. I wouldn't mind some more of it." She chuckles with disbelief and rolls her eyes.
"Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow. If you promise to take your meds."
"I'll be a good boy." He rewards her with a boyish smile, and she hates what it's doing to her. How it turns her knees to mush, and renders her throat unusable. It's all part of his charm—the one she fell for at some point, when she wasn't looking.
"I'm leaving now," she says, returning the grin, and throws a pillow at his face. He's obviously feeling good enough to feel jokes, and that's her cue. "Goodnight, Jay."
"Goodnight," he says, looking out of the window as if he only now realized it had gotten dark outside and that the only light is coming from the light beneath the kitchen cupboards. "Thanks again. Text me when you get home." She fights the urge to roll her eyes, but she doesn't. Because the words aren't coming from a place of doubt that she's able of taking care of herself. They're coming from a place of care—love even.
She nods, getting out before she forgets all the reasons why kissing him is a bad idea. While she's walking down the stairs and to her car, she's surprised with a warm thought of how nice it would have been to meet his mom. To meet the woman who raised two incredible boys into two strong men.
Glancing up, she notices the light now on in his apartment, and a silhouette standing at the window. He's watching her get into her car, she thinks. To make sure she's safe. Because that's what you do for the people you care about.
She never got it before, but she thinks someday Jay Halstead will show her just how great that can be. Until then, she's grateful for the little smile that only he can bring to her face.