Title: The Way From Here

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 must deal with the consequences of her decision to take a position in FBI counter-intelligence at the expense of her relationship with Jay and her relationship with her family. But an emergency with her younger brother provides her with the opportunity to re-examine her choices and to try to rectify any damages to her relationships. This story takes place in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics.

SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath and So It Goes (including chapters/scenes in So It Goes that have not yet been written or posted). This series also contains SPOILERS related to the finale of Season 4 of Chicago PD.

Jay startled slightly as he realized Erin was talking to him. That she'd definitely been saying something to him and he hadn't been hearing it because that time her voice had been raised enough and had enough of an edge to it that it caught is attention. Made him bring hi eyes to her.

"What?" he had to ask. Because he really didn't have a clue what she'd said. He definitely hadn't heard it at all. He wasn't sure how long he'd been spaced out. But it made him a little mad at himself that he'd let himself do that.

It was hard, though. He had a lot on his mind. And the restaurant had a Saturday night crowd. It was busy. Loud. Lots of movement. Lots of voices. Too much distraction. And he could only handle so much of that and keep his focus. At least when there wasn't a task at hand. Or maybe it was more when there wasn't a task at hand where he didn't have his body armor on and a gun in hand. Because he definitely had a task at hand. He just felt sort of clueless about how to complete it. And he definitely wished he had his Kevlar on.

Erin raised an eyebrow at him. "Work?" she put to him directly. "The call? Was it bad? You seem … distracted."

"Oh …," he allowed. And thought about how to answer that.

He didn't really know. There only seemed like so much point in trying to explain to her what Intelligence had become without her. And now without Voight.

To explain how Burgess had a lot of heart but still had a lot of naivety. That maybe she could take care of herself but she still seemed to charge into situations too quickly without thinking about all the possible angles. The possible outcomes. And it'd become worse since what happened to her sister. Worse since Kim had come back. And worse since it sort of felt like people were pussy-footing around her and giving her more leeway than they should while she was raging out more and more. Taking situations into her own hands more and more. Feeling like she was less of a team player and more of a woman on a mission a lot of the times. And like that was only going to get worse unless someone reeled her in. And it didn't seem like it was going to be Olinsky who did that. Or Ruzek. And Jay wasn't sure it was his place even if he was sitting in Voight's office filling out paperwork at the end of every shift now.

To explain how Ruzek's white upper-middle-class bordering on privileged upbringing was coming out more and more. How shit he was saying and doing just seemed to illustrate how out of touch he was about the whole socio-economic situation and demographics and politics in play in the city. How he was a Beverly kid and it'd shaped his views as an adult. Which was … what it was. But it was starting to seep over into his views and actions as a cop and that was going to bite him in the ass. If not all of them. And Jay just didn't feel like dealing with a a fucking alpha being obnoxious about their work in certain neighborhoods. Not respecting it. Not showing common sense about how you acted and interacted with the people there. And he didn't want to hear any more bullshit or comments about Muslims or Syrians or terrorists from a guy who got to go to college and the only time he'd ever left the United States had been to go get all-inclusively shit-faced in Mexico or some on some island. And that Ruzek's attitude and comments just seemed to be getting worse since Burgess got back. Since it became clear – that she still didn't have any interest in getting back with him.

To explain that Al had turned into a shadow of a man too. That now he was all about protecting women and female rights on the job. Jumping down people's throats for so much as looking at Kim or Upton the wrong way. Jumping the gun on any cases they had that involved female victims. Wanting to get to the beat down within five minutes of dragging a suspect in the door – when they had all eyes on them. He just had no patience anymore. He didn't work the cases the same way. He just wanted to kick in faces. And then be left alone at work to do his thing. Which clearly wasn't paperwork or running the unit.

To explain that Jay could tell that Atwater was losing his patience with both Kim and Adam. Likely justifiably so. But that he was trying to keep it together. Because Kevin was a climber. He was going to be career police. And doing the job wasn't likely going to be good enough for him. Or for what he wanted to accomplish. That he wanted rank and positioning. And maybe he needed it too. And maybe he recognized that because of his skin color he was stuck having to hold his tongue and himself to loftier standards than maybe the rest of them. So instead he quietly seethed. And that just felt like a ticking time bomb too.

To explain that him and Upton weren't jiving yet. That they felt way out of sync when they were in the field together. On scene. That Jay never really felt like he trusted her to entirely have his back yet. That maybe he never would. Because she was a different kind of police. She had the ego. Because she'd accomplished some shit in her career and had the accolodades – that as much as she downplayed, she also made sure everyone knew. And she was too by-the-book. And that only worked so well in Intelligence. And she was too … just wanting everyone to like her and respect her. And that … just rubbed Jay the wrong way too.

To explain to her that they'd installed cameras in the interrogation rooms since she'd left. Since she'd shoved a gun down a guy's throat. That they were having to file extra paperwork. Or at least it felt like a shitload more because right now he was the one responsible for making sure every fucking piece of it ended up at the Ivory Tower the way they wanted. And they came back at you if a fucking I wasn't dotted the way they liked.

To explain that it wasn't just that the unit didn't feel the same without her. That things had changed. They'd all changed with their own hit in their own lives. And that Jay was having more and more trouble imagining wanting to stay on with the unit with the group that was there. If VOight didn't get back soon and somehow managed to make everyone mesh again as a team. But Jay wasn't even sure the guy could manage that either. Given the change. Given the way he'd changed too. Given his own distractions and shifting priorities and responsiblities.

To explain that just the job had changed. All of it. CPD. That the whole soci-political-economical demographic activist … whatever … environment they lived in had changed. That maybe they'd seen that coming. The past year. Two years. Five years. Their whole careers. But the city was definitely working to change that now. The country was. Because Chicago got to have the spotlight on it. Chicago – its police – was being used as an example in the country of shit that was going sideways. And how to try to fix it.

The only problem with all of that was that it was also making the job harder to do. It was like it was tying the hands of the police who actually did the work while giving a free pass to the ones who were the assholes. The ones who were the problems. And that even if change did happen – it wasn't the kind of thing that was going to happen overnight. This was the sort of thing that happened over a generation. Over a whole career. But with the way that transformation looked, Jay wasn't sure that's how he'd envisioned his work in the police being. What it'd look like.

So, yeah. He'd been being real with her about going to SWAT. Because there he'd get a mission. He'd train. He'd get in and get out. There'd be less politics involved. Less bullshit. He'd work on muscle memory. He'd work on executing orders. Taking targets down. It seemed simplier. It seemed to make more sense. And it seemed a whole lot more fucking meaningful than managing personalities and paperwork behind a desk. It'd be a different – a better – kind of organization.

Maybe it'd feel better than everything did right now. Maybe it'd feel better than any of it did for a while. Because … some of the cases … he was just sick of. Some of the U.C. He was just sick of. He was sick of … steadying himself against triggering. He was sick of having to try to figure out dealing with it alone. To not have Erin around to not talk about it with. He was sick of his meetings. And his therapy. And feeling like he was in a better position than a lot of guys and should just suck it up. And to wonder why the fuck he was even going to any of that stuff anymore if him and Erin weren't going to work out.

But maybe it would. If he wasn't so fucking distracted.

Jay shook his head. "Ah, it was okay. City's just on high alert with the Warrior Games in town, coming up on the long weekend. Dignitaries."

"Intel the terrorists going after Prince Harry? Or Kelly Clarkson?" she quipped.

He allowed a thin smile. "Think you'd have better intel on that than us."

She gave her own thin smile and picked at cheese plate that Jay had also been neglecting as he stared out the window into the city's lights. The Walnut Room. She'd vetoed the Purple Pig for this. Probably a good move. He knew realistically they wouldn't have ended up with a table at the Purple Pig. It wasn't the kind of place you just showed up at and got seated. Though, her was busy too. And the view. The lights. That just added to his distraction. His ability to get lost in his churning thoughts that couldn't seem to still with the activity around him.

"My big contribution to that effort would be to tell you to put extra bodies at any stores selling tiki torches," she said and put a piece of cheese in her mouth, followed by a candied walnut.

He allowed a smile at the comment but stared at her – weighing how much she was trying to be witty versus the fact behind the statement. Erin's sass was usually rooted in reality. That's why it could sting as much as it could make you smile. But somehow that statement just made him frown. Because he knew it was ultimately some other sad commentary about the kind of group she had her embedded with. And he could read between the lines.

"Woods, Voight's old partner," Jay said, reaching to claim some of the food too. "They've made him the internal auditor of some bullshit."

Erin made a face. "Really?"

Jay made a sound as he chewed. "When Voight gets back. That's going to be a shit-storm."

She shook her head. "Maybe it already is. He didn't say much. But I got the sense his review at the Ivory Tower didn't go well."

Jay nodded. "He said he had some hoops to jump through. That's all he's told me. Woods likes the hoops. He's all about P.R. bullshit. Releasing shit to the media. Playing nice. It was a bullshit call. But because they have me in the office and with the Games and the media in town and high alert and all that … had to go in."

Erin allowed a little nod. "You looked like it was still eating at you."

Jay gazed at her. It hated that she could see that much about him – just by looking at him. But that their relationship could be so out of sync. That they'd fucked it up that badly. But that felt like a whole other shit-storm to give head-long into. So instead he gestured out the window.

"I just got caught up in the view," he tired. He half-way lied. Though there was truth to it. He loved a good view of their city. He was willing to pay for that. For real Chicago. And this was definitely that. "I've never been in her before."

Erin gave him a little smile and glanced around their ornate surroundings. It was both tacky and so fucking awesome too. A landmark you should visit. Marshall Field's. That's as Chicago as it gets. But when something had somehow been around so long you forgot it was there. Or just so smack in the fucking tourist district anymore that you avoided it all together.

"I've been once before," she said, as she pulled her eyes away from the carved carousel that occupied the center of the space. "Camille brought me here for my seventeenth birthday."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Really?" The place didn't exactly scream somewhere you'd take a seventeen year old kid. Maybe a little kid. Or your grandmother. Unless you were there for the views and the Koval. Then that was a different story. But he doubted either of that was something a seventeen year old would be able to indulge in or appreciate. At least not on their foster mom's dime.

Erin allowed another small smile at his face apparently. His reaction. She picked at the plates in front of them.

"Yea …"

"And did you order the chicken pot pie then too?" he teased.

She smiled a bit wider. "Jay, you don't come to the Walnut Room and not order Mrs. Hering's chicken pot pie. It's been on the menu since 1890."

He allowed her a grin. But Erin shook her head and moved to selecting an olive instead of picking at the cheese.

"That's what Camille said," she provided. "I actually think she just really wanted the chicken pot pie. I mean, she was trying to do something special for me on my birthday. But she was just so pregnant on my seventeenth." She smiled again. "She was this thin lady. Fine boned, fine features. And how she carried Ethan."

Erin made a rotund gesture at her own stomach. Jay allowed a bigger grin at that.

"Seriously," Erin pressed, "it was like a jiffy pop when she was I don't know … maybe around four months. She was huge. It looked so awkward and uncomfortable."

"Sounds like it," Jay conceded.

"She claimed that's just how you carry boys. But I don't know …" she shrugged.

"Maybe some day," Jay allowed and reached across the table to find her hand. To still it from her picking at their appetizers. To hold it.

She allowed him a sad smile at that effort but also didn't pull her hand away. This quiet moment where they shared eyes. And Jay knew that once again they had this added layer of shit they were dealing with that they weren't going to talk about right now. That this time last year they were pregnant. That a few weeks from now they'd miscarry. And that in a different universe they'd have a six-month-old baby on their hands. That Voight referring to grandkids – and building a fucking … whatever it was he was building … a make-shift fort – would've been correct usage of the plural. That if things hadn't gone to shit six weeks ago … or six months ago … depending on how they looked at it … that maybe they'd be pregnant again right now. Or at least they'd be trying. But they'd both gone off their respective deep-ends in their own respective ways. And now … here they were.

"I've been thinking about her the past few days," she said and gripped at his hand. "I know I hurt you. And Ethan. And Hank. And I can see and feel all of that. But being in the house, being around Eth and him so sick again … I just keep thinking about … how much me … picking Bunny … and leaving … Chicago, my family, all of you … after everything she did for me. All the sacrifices she made and what she tried to teach me. The kind of mom she actually was to me. How it would've hurt her so much."

Her voice cracked a bit and Jay rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand. "Er, kids do stuff that hurt their parents. They do things that hurt us. You can't dwell on it now. I think she'd just be happy that you're here now. That you're trying to fix it."

Erin looked at him with watery eyes. "And that makes it harder. Because I see how Hank is treating me. How you are. How you're both trying. Even though … you're hurt. You're angry. And I know she'd be doing the same." Erin let out a little laugh but it crackled and trembled through her shoulders. "Though …," she shook her head. "I know the kind of looks she'd be giving me. The tone. She wouldn't make it easy. Like Ethan. He's not going to make it easy."

"So then maybe she's still here for you to try with," Jay offered. "In him."

Erin nodded and a tear trickled down her cheek. Right at the moment their server came up with their two chicken pot pies and peach nest salads. Erin's hands slapped at her face to try to hide the tears. The waitress gave them both an apologetic look and gestured at their charcuterie board.

"Just leave it," Jay told her.

She nodded and straightened, softly saying she'd be back to check on them in a bit. Them. Not their food. Not their drinks. Erin gave Jay an embarrassed look. But he just stroked his thumb over her hand again and nodded at their food.

"Looks good," he provided.

She allowed a little smile. A forced one. But drew her hand away to claim her fork, giving him a little nod and focusing on her food while she composed herself a bit. A new task. And he took his on too. Working at eating the winter comfort food though it was distinctively summer weather in the city.

"How was Eth this afternoon?" Jay asked when they'd eaten a bit. When she'd clearly re-centered herself.

She gave a little shrug. "Up and down," she allowed. "Happy to be home. But a little sucky. Going to the game made him spin out a bit about … the future."

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged. He imagined there'd be a lot of that in the coming months. And he got it. The kid would have a lot of adjustment ahead of him. That'd be hard for a grown man. Scary enough. This was just a kid.

"They changed up his anxiety medication while we were at Med," she allowed. "Maybe that will help."

"Maybe," Jay allowed. But it might also just turn the kid into more of a zombie. More of a shell than he already was. But he got that they needed to figure out how to manage a lot of competing priorities in letting the kid have some sort of quality of life. "Everything went smoothly with the exchange, though?"

"Yeah," she allowed. "But he had that allergic reaction again. And puked. So the counteractive they gave him knocked him out. Probably more than just … everything would've."

Jay nodded. "But it's likely good he's resting."

"Yea …," she allowed quietly. "He's happier. To be home. With his dad and dog and bed. His stuff."

"It's likely hard being in an unfamiliar environment when your vision is fucked up," Jay said.

She allowed a nod. But then focused on picking at her food again. She didn't exactly look like she was enjoying it maybe as much as she remembered it. But it also could just be that she'd lost her appetite. Or hadn't really had one to begin with. Jay could relate to that too. Still, he picked at his plate too. Because it really wasn't that bad. He could see why a pregnant lady would crave this. He could understand why this might be a decently special place to pick to take your daughter for a birthday lunch out a couple months before there was going to be a new kid on the scene. Just a place to have some time together. To have a special moment. A memory. And sometimes the memories were better than … whatever was on the menu at a particular moment. Just the time. Giving each other the time.

So he gave her some. Let her eat. Let himself eat. Just let them be there.

"What are you thinking about that gig Stone told you about?" he finally asked.

She looked up from her meal. Stared at him. It felt like a long time. Long enough that he stopped eating too.

"I think, like you said, Hank, Ethan – they're going to need a lot of help the next few months."

Jay allowed a little sigh and put down his fork to stare back at her. "Yeah," he acknowledged. "But I mean me, Olive we'll help out as much as Hank lets us. So maybe we – you – should think about it from a bit of a career standpoint."

"Ethan's not going to understand why I'm taking another job in New York," she said. "He's … I'm afraid he's going to spin out when I have to leave on Wednesday. If it's a few weeks before I'm able to get back."

Jay let out a breath. "Er, he might not like it. But he's mature enough to wrap his head around it. And, if it's just doing an investigation with the D.A.'s office, I mean, you'll likely have most weekends off. You can come home. I can go out there. After Eth's more on his feet, me or Hank can bring him out. Go do all the dinosaur and baseball shit that New York City has to offer."

She smiled a little at that. "You know how he feels about the Yankees and their barosaurus."

"Yeah, well, we'll sell him on the titanosaur," Jay contended.

"How?" she pressed. "A Chicagoan discovered the Giganotosaurus."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Dinosaur trivia book today?"

"Mmm …," she allowed. "Until he fell asleep. He let me read him a few chapters of Harry Potter too."

"Should've let Hank read," Jay said. "That voice would knock anyone out in all of five minutes."

"Hank's not allowed to read him Harry Potter," Erin said. "Apparently."

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged.

He knew that. He hadn't even been allowed. The whole effort to finish the series had been put on hold while Erin was gone. And even if Eth wasn't making it easy for Erin – he also thought that her being allowed to read to him, those books, it meant something. It was progress. He still loved her and wanted her in his life. Even if she'd hurt him. And Jay knew that feeling too.

"I think maybe you should at least call Cassidy. Or Benson," he said. "Ask a few questions."

Erin just gave him a look and went back to her meal.

"Erin, maybe they need an investigator in another state or jurisdiction. If Stone's talking to him? Knows about the case? It could be big. Maybe it's not even just people in New York or that D.A.'s office they're looking for," he argued.

She sighed at him and shook her head. "Jay, I'm framing my whole conversations with the FBI – with my handlers – around Ethan being sick. Around me needing to be home. It's going to look bad if I make them pull me out, get someone else established, quit the job and then still land in another office 800 miles away from my family."

"So fuck that," Jay pressed at her. "Forget that. Who cares what they think? You've pretty much decided that working for the Feds isn't for you, right? This U.C., assignment, it's not for you? Getting out of that, now, with your head on straight, is still about your family. It's about your future."

"Jay—"

"Erin," he argued a bit more firmly. "You being in an office where we can reach you. Us being able to come out and visit. You being able to come home on weekends. That still makes more fucking sense with Ethan being sick than some undercover counter-terrorism assignment where we don't know where the fuck you are or what the fuck you're doing or how the fuck to get a hold of you or when the fuck we're going to see you. It's still about Ethan being sick and you needing to be available to him."

She shook her head and stared at her ripped apart pot pie. The spread shredded potatoes, poking at the salad and the grapes and the peaches. Until she picked up a piece of bread and dipped it until the pie's sauce. Just staring at that effort to sop up her mess.

Jay sighed and sat back in his chair. Watching her make the repeated motions.

"I don't think Voight thinks I know the first thing about relationships," he put flatly.

She gave him a glance. "You don't," she said. There wasn't an edge to it. It was just this complete statement of fact out of her mouth. "But I knew that. And I know why."

Jay just gazed at her. Because he knew why too. He knew he hadn't had enough relationships. He knew he hadn't had an example of what they looked like while he was growing up. He knew his whole perspective on them were kind of fucked up. And his interaction with them had always been lacking. That he was either closed off. Or he ran away. Whichever route it was, he'd always tried to ensure that he didn't let things get too far along. That he panicked when they did. He didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to handle them. Because he didn't know how.

But right now he did. He always had with Erin. Even if he'd fumbled around blindly for years. Even if he seemed to keep fucking it up.

"If I don't know anything about relationships, I know even less about being a husband," he said.

She shrugged. "Good thing you aren't one then."

"Erin …," he sighed.

She glanced at him. "You said you didn't want to get married. Now."

"Do you?" he pressed at her. "You think that's a good idea with where we are, how we are, right now? No. I don't think so. It's not like I've seen the engagement ring come back out since you've been home."

"Not after the wedding bands get grabbed away from me," she glared, "and condoms get suddenly added back to the equation."

And of course it had to be then that the waitress came back.

"How are we doing here?" she asked with an awkward smile.

"Fantastic," Jay muttered.

"Can I get you another drink?" she offered.

Erin gave her a patronizing smile. "Old fashioned," she dead-panned.

But the waitress just gave her another weak smile and turned to Jay. "And for you, sir?"

"Oh, I think that was her ordering for me," he said.

The waitress looked at Erin confused. "Two," was already she said that time. And the poor server managed a little nod and headed to get their drinks.

Jay glowered at her across the table. "You really think it's smart to be taking any chances right now?"

She shrugged. "Apparently you do," she said. "Because, if you didn't want to take any chances, Jay, we wouldn't have had sex, period."

Jay rubbed at his face and then stared out the window for a long beat. Though, now it was dark enough that all he could see was him frowning at himself and Erin's reflection glaring at him from across the table. He shook his head and looked back into her real eyes.

"You don't want to have sex this trip, fine," he shrugged. "You want to have sex without a condom? Fine. But first, for me to consider that, I want us to talk about this," he said and gestured between them. "Because I'm still trying to salvage this," he gestured again, "and I thought you wanted to too. But to do that we've got to have a real fucking talk about the future, Erin."

"I am talking about the future," she pressed. "I am quitting the FBI. I am coming home. And we'll … figure it out from there. After that."

"No," Jay pressed back. "Because that whole fucking situation isn't going to be any better, Erin. You're just going to be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. And I want us to have a real plan. I want us to talk about a timeline for how we're going to make this work. About what that's going to look like. And if that involves me getting those rings out of the drawer and us going back to March when we were fucking talking about trying to get pregnant, Erin – then we need to start looking at long-term management of the fucking mess we're in. Not just digging a bigger hole for us to get out of later."

"Jay," she hissed at him, "I need to come home. Now. To my family."

"Erin," he argued back, "what your family needs, what I need, what our future, our future family needs – is for you to get sorted. For stability. This is planning, Erin. All that organizational crap Hank's drilled into you. At home, at work. Now's the time to implement. Proper police planning, Erin. Call Cassidy. Or Benson. I don't fucking care. Get the details on this gig. And get yourself on a job track that you can be happy in. So us – your family – can be happy for you, happy around you. Not just now. Fucking … five, ten, fifteen years from now. Ethan doesn't just need you know. He needs you long-term. Me. If we're going to make a family – get married, have kids – it needs to be long-term, Erin."

She just stared. And stared.

Until Jay finally managed, "Please." Because that felt like all he had left. Maybe the only thing he hadn't done get. Ask her politely. Maybe that would mean something. Mean more than enough. So she'd understand. So that maybe they could make this work. It needed to.

AUTHOR NOTE: Your feedback, reviews and comments are appreciated.