It's one of the rare days that Jay is off and the rest of the unit is working. 'Off' being a relative term – Mouse knows he's working security for Brianna today. It's a slow day, so Mouse is doing busywork, keeping an eye on a rotating screen of traffic cams. The rest of the unit is out patrolling around, and he has a scanner tuned to their usual frequency in case anything comes up when he hears it and his blood goes cold.

"10-1, 10-1! This is Detective Jay Halstead, I'm at Canal and Van Buren, we're taking heavy fire, shots fired, shots fired, we got a man shot!" He's scrambling for the scanner, and Al's voice is coming out of it saying that he's nearby, that he's on his way, and Erin's voice is thin and panicked saying she is too and Voight is telling her to go to the station instead because she's on the other end of the district, and Mouse's heart is pounding and he's gripping the radio like a lifeline, and it's agony, even after he knows Jay isn't hit, to wait.

When Jay walks in up the stairs, his face is pale and his eyes are still wide and shocked, and he doesn't even look at Mouse as he passes. Mouse would be hurt except he can see that Jay is still in the singularly focused mode of combat, and the only thing that matters now is the mission. So he gets to work, because until he has a chance to be alone with Jay, this is the best thing he can do.

He hears Al's phone ring and glance up, sees Al's face go tense at the number on the screen, and Mouse mirrors him automatically, feels his stomach clench when Al's face drops at the words on the other end of the phone. Al mutters the news to Mouse on his way past.

"Terry didn't make it." No. Terry, Jay's new friend, his brother in arms at his other job, Terry who Mouse had briefly met while doing the security system, who he had re-met last week at Molly's when Jay brought him round, who was cheerful and funny, and Jay's friend.

The day is a whirlwind and their leads keep coming up dead and Mouse can see Jay unravelling and he has no chance to talk to him. He can see Erin watching him with the same sort of fear that he feels in his gut, and their eyes meet across the room and there is nothing but terror between them, everything else burned out by their shared desperate love for the boy with blood on his sleeves. He tries to catch Jay as he leaves for Lissa's, but Jay times his disappearance well and leaves both Mouse and Erin staring after him.

Finally, the second day ends and Mouse gets his chance with Jay. He's officially off the clock, which means that he can supplement the chatter from the PI's phone with a cold beer and the Blackhawks game in the dim cave of his tech room. He hears Jay coming, and his pulse jumps in anticipation of trying to get Jay to open up, but he doesn't turn. Just listens as Jay settles beside him and hands him a beer, afraid to scare him off.

"That robbery, it's pretty crazy, huh?" He says it carefully, pausing before he continues, voice low and gentle. "Bet it brought back some memories." He looks at Jay, and Jay looks back with poorly concealed shadows in his eyes, and lies.

"Mouse, I'm good."

Mouse keeps his eyes steady. He's not going to let Jay get away with that, not this time, but then he hears the PI's voice in his headphones and he has no choice. A break in the case is good news, but he can't help but wish it had waited just a little bit longer. But it's the right break, finally, the one that brings them all the way to the end, to the man who killed Terry in cuffs and heading towards life in prison.

It's only when the storm ends and Mouse has a chance to breathe a little easier that the guilt really hits, because it's his fault Jay was there. He pushed him to take the job, and it had put Jay in the line of fire when he didn't need to be, put Jay in the path of watching another friend die bloody, of going to another funeral. When the day is done and the files put away Mouse sidles up to Jay and asks quietly.

"When's the funeral?"

Jay looks at him, surprised, because he knows Mouse sees death in the Rangers dress now from too many funerals the same as Jay. He knows Mouse hasn't put it on in years, knows it sits, like his own, in the back of his closet so he won't have to see it and smell the blood. Mouse thinks Jay has "you don't need to come" on the tip of his tongue, but he looks fiercely back at him, and finally Jay nods slightly.

"Tomorrow, at 5." Jay's voice is hoarse, and Mouse nods, and Erin comes up and takes Jay's arm tenderly and looks at Mouse and there is something of their old kinship there, like the first burst he felt letting Erin into Jay's apartment that first night. Erin leads Jay away, and Mouse lets them go, gathering his things and heading back to his own apartment, knowing that tonight Jay is in Erin's care. He hopes that Jay will let Erin in, let the pain out, but he knows better than to expect too much. At home, he reaches deep into his closet and draws out the uniform and grits his teeth at the tangible grief that seems to soak the fabric. He will hate every minute that it is on his skin, but he will wear it anyway.

He meets Jay and Erin at the funeral. Jay looks, but doesn't seem to see him. Erin's eyes rove over him and he feels that she can read the way the fabric stings like needles, but she smiles grimly and says nothing. He and Erin flank Jay as they walk in, sit as buffers on either side. The sermon begins, and Jay stares at the picture of a much younger Terry and Mouse knows he is working not to cry. They sit shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, and Mouse takes Jay's hand, holding it discreetly between their thighs, and Jay grips it unconsciously tight. Mouse knows Erin is holding the other, and he can hear her wavering breath, knows that she is crying for Jay. Mouse swallows and stares ahead and tries not to let the face in the picture become a different face, the time a different time.

After, Mouse stops at home to strip out of the uniform and put on clothes that aren't so full of ghosts, and heads to Molly's where he knows that Jay will be. The bar is pretty empty, too early for the real crowd to show, but Jay is there, sitting at a table with Ethan and three beers, one unopened. Erin isn't there. Mouse wants to ask why, but he doesn't. Just sits down, opens his beer, and joins the conversation. Somberly, they trade stories.

"The thing is, firefights never scared me. It was coming home. Having to look into the faces of the wives and the families of the guys that didn't make it back." When Jay says it, the sentiment isn't news to Mouse. It's how they both feel. But knowing that Jay is thinking of Lissa makes Mouse's chest ache. "I gotta go guys."

This is news to Mouse, and he watches Jay leave with concern, watches the door swing shut behind him, turns to his beer, staring at the label and hesitating, hesitating, because Jay has Erin now. But the pressure in his chest doesn't care. He looks up to see Ethan watching him knowingly.

"See you later, man," Ethan says before Mouse can open his mouth, and then Mouse is nodding gratefully and heading out the door, already pulling out his phone to check the GPS on Jay's to make sure he's heading to his apartment. Mouse stops short at the door to his car because Jay… isn't heading for his apartment. His chest tightens and simultaneously he feels relief that he didn't let Jay just walk away and assume he was going home to Erin. He watches the little moving dot until he realizes that Jay is heading back to the district, and then he gets in his car and drives.

He sees Jay's car in the parking lot as he pulls up. As he's walking in, Voight is walking out.

"Jay here?" he asks, keeping his voice carefully level. Voight looks at him for a moment before he answers.

"Yeah, think he went to the locker room."

Mouse nods his thanks and then strides on. He pauses outside the doorway at the sound of crying. Jay crying. Mouse pulls out his phone and sends off one quick text – station, locker room, jay – before he goes in. Jay is sitting on the floor, head in hands, and Mouse makes straight for him. Jay doesn't look up, either because he doesn't hear Mouse coming or because he knows instinctively, as they often do, who it is. Mouse slides down the wall to wedge himself beside Jay, taking one of Jay's cold hands in his own. Jay curls towards him, head coming to rest on Mouse's shoulder. Mouse blinks back his own tears and presses a kiss to the top of Jay's head and holds him in the broken silence.

Ten minutes or so pass, and Jay's sobbing has quietened to the slow drip of exhausted tears when Mouse hears Erin coming, nearly running when she comes into view. Mouse looks up as she stops, arrested at the sight for a moment. She meets Mouse's eyes and her panic turns to sorrow and she strides over and sits at Jay's other side, pressing up against him and hugging his arm, kissing his shoulder. Jay's breathing hitches briefly, but he doesn't react, just letting more tears drip into the damp fabric of Mouse's shirt.

They sit a while longer, letting the flow of Jay's tears slow, then stop in the silence, Mouse ignoring the way his body is achy and numb from the tile floor. Finally, Mouse uses gentle fingers to brush away the wetness on Jay's cheek and speaks quietly and tenderly.

"C'mon Jay, let's go home." He looks over Jay at Erin and mouths "Your car?" and Erin nods, and the two carefully maneuver Jay up from the ground, get his jacket on, and guide him out the door and towards Erin's car. They help Jay into the back and Mouse gets in beside him while Erin gets in the driver's seat and Mouse is sharply reminded of the time they did this for him, guiding his numb body to Jay's apartment and waiting for him to thaw. Jay leans against Mouse on the ride, dozing from sheer exhaustion. When they arrive at Jay's apartment, they bring him straight to the bedroom, helping Jay's clumsy limbs into pajamas and into bed. Jay blinks hazily at them as they pull the blankets up around him like tucking in a child, and Jay catches Mouse's hand, eyes flickering between the two.

"Don't leave," he whispers, hoarse and agonized, and Mouse feels tears spring behind his eyes at the sound.

"Never," he whispers back.

"Never," Erin repeats.

They settle to sit on either side until Jay's breathing evens out and they know he's asleep, and then they slip carefully off the bed and out of the room in the dark. Mouse puts on the electric kettle and gets mugs and teabags out of the cupboard that Jay keeps for bad nights. He waits until the water boils, pours two mugs, and hands one to Erin, joining her at the table. She warms her hands around the mug for a moment before she speaks.

"What happened? He said he was going for a drink with you." If Mouse was expecting to hear any kind of accusation in her voice, it isn't there. Only concern and confusion. Mouse shakes his head.

"We did, we were at Molly's talking with Ethan, and then he said he had to go. I thought he was coming back here to you, but something felt weird. So I tracked his phone," and here he glances up at Erin knowing in any other situation she might laugh at him, "and saw he was heading towards the district. So I followed him, and I found him like that."

"I knew he wasn't okay." Erin shakes her head fiercely, frustrated. "He wouldn't talk about it last night at all." She peers up at Mouse desperately, and he frowns and sighs.

"I'm not surprised."

"But he talks to you, right?"

"Some." Mouse rubs a hand across his face. "Not enough. Not as much as he needs to."

"Or as much as you need to?"

Mouse glances up as she says his unspoken thought. Her eyes are soft and he looks away, pained.

"Mouse…" She hesitates. "Mouse, you can talk to me, if you want."

Mouse swallows hard, because he does want that, but there are three heavy words between them and the stories are still Jay's stories too.

"I can't," he says thickly.

"Okay." She sounds sad, resigned. "What do we do? About Jay?"

Mouse looks up, glancing towards the dark doorway of the bedroom.

"We just… be there for him." Mouse meets her eyes and knows that she feels as he does, that this isn't enough, feels that desperate need to do more.

"Together," she says fiercely, and Mouse knows she means that they put Mouse's words behind them, that Mouse stops pulling away from her when it means also pulling away from Jay.

"Together."

They sit until their tea goes cold, and they get up and dump it down the sink and wash the mugs, and then Mouse goes to the closet and gets the bedding.

"I'll take the couch," Erin says from behind him.

"No, you won't."

Erin frowns at him.

"Mouse, Jay needs you."

"And he needs you." Mouse answers back. Erin stares at him in consternation for a moment, Mouse staring straight back, before her expression clears.

"C'mon," she says, grabbing his arm and tugging. Mouse drops the pillow he's holding, yelping slightly in surprise, but she pays no mind. Instead she just drags him into the darkness of Jay's room, points him towards the bed and then moves around to the other side. Mouse stands, blinking, until she throws a pair of sweatpants at him and motions at him to turn around. He looks at her, looks at the sweatpants in his hands, and turns, changing swiftly out of his jeans and into the softly worn sweats. He waits until he stops hearing shuffling sounds from behind him before he turns back around, finding her looking at him. She looks pointedly at the bed, then begins carefully sliding under the covers on her side trying not to jostle and wake Jay. Mouse hesitates, then does the same.

"Goodnight Mouse," Erin breathes from the other side of Jay.

"Goodnight Erin." He breathes back.

He lies awake for a while, just watching Jay breathe, thinking of that night after Keyes, thinking of the way that this night mirrors that one. It was grief, not torture, that had brought them here, but always Jay. Last time it was only Jay that he had been loving, but contenting himself with friendship. Now it was them both. It would still hurt, loving them, letting them love each other. But for the first time since his traitorous mouth had said those words, he thought that maybe he could still have what they'd built, the three of them. Together, Erin had said. Yes, Mouse thought, maybe he could have that much. It would be enough.

FIN

Sequel to come.


AN: Thank you to everyone who stuck around despite my inconsistent posting and the long time it took me to write it, and thank you to everyone who is reading after completion and made it here to the end. If you want to share some thoughts, you will make my day. I've started writing the sequel, but as always, I can make no promises as to the speed of updates.