Trigger warning for mentions of assault & rape, please take caution before reading.
Jay stood out of Erin's room, unsure of what to do or where to go. He didn't want to go home, and he sure as hell didn't want to leave Erin alone. Her pained demand tore at his heart as he replayed the moment over in his head. He could tell just how badly his partner was hurting and knew in his heart of hearts that he shouldn't take her anger personally. "Hey, man," Will's voice cut through the thoughts racing through Jay's head, "What's going on?"
Jay turned to face his brother, "Uh, she asked me to leave."
Will nodded sympathetically, "This happens all the time," he reassured his brother, "Especially when patients aren't taking enough of the pain medication and still have the anesthesia in their system. It's involuntary and they normally don't mean it."
"I-I get that," Jay replied, rubbing his hands over his stubbly cheek, "I'm just…really worried about her. Nat told her she'd need a pelvic exam and she just completely shut down." He leaned back against the hospital hallway, "The worst part is, I get where she's coming from. I wouldn't want to know. But I know that in order to make sure she's okay, she needs to. And especially since that bastard is still alive, if there's a case against him or the department-"
"Hey," Will cut him off, "It's going to be okay. When Erin comes around, and I know that she will, you'll be there. You always are. But right now, while you're giving her the space she asked for, you can wash your face, grab an extra shirt from my locker and get a coffee or something, okay?" He offered a kind smile, "I told you I'd be there for you, and I meant it."
"Thanks," Jay replied, accepting the key to his brother's locker, "Really, man."
"Don't worry about it. Just stay close to her, okay?"
The change of shirt did wonders. Jay washed his face in the hospital locker room, allowing the cool water to calm his rapid heart rate. Talking to Will had made him feel so much better, but he hadn't received any word in the ten minutes he'd been gone that Erin wanted him back. He sighed heavily.
"You alright?" A deep, smooth voice interrupted Jay's thoughts, "You're Detective Halstead, aren't you?"
Jay glanced at the stocky man in front of him. He vaguely recognized him from a case he'd worked a few months ago. "Yeah, Dr. Grier, right?"
"That's me," Dr. Grier extended his hand for a shake, "We met a few months back after you and your partner brought in a GSW and hysteric husband."
"That's right," Jay nodded. He and Erin had been working violence reduction, and somehow picked up a neighborhood dispute. The woman wasn't hurt badly, but the husband was absolutely frantic and had been referred to Dr. Grier while his wife was in surgery.
"How's everything been going?" Dr. Grier asked kindly. His deep brown eyes peered into Jay's soul as he struggled to form words to explain all that had gone on.
"It's a really long story," he managed lamely, "Like, really long."
Dr. Grier nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm free all morning. If you've got some time, my office is right around the corner if you want to talk."
"I, um," Jay stammered, unsure of what to do. He wasn't one for talking to shrinks, but he did have some time to kill while he waited for Erin to stop being so angry with him. Plus, Dr. Grier's office had the added benefit of being down the hallway from Erin's hospital room. "Okay."
And so Jay settled in the chair in Dr. Grier's office and told him everything. Once he started talking about Erin being taken, the conversation spiraled to how much he loved her, and how devastated he was that she'd kicked him out. He spoke for what felt like eons, allowing all that had happened in the past few days to leave his body and suspend in the chilly office air.
"You said Erin mentioned that she didn't want you to look at her differently? If in fact, this Charlie did assault her, contrary to what she believes?" Dr. Grier looked up from the notepad that was resting on the arm of his chair. Jay nodded, unsure of what to say next.
"I already look at her different," he blurted out, "The from the moment I laid eyes on her in that basement." Jay swallowed, the tears making an unwanted reappearance behind his eyes, "Because even if he didn't rape her, every time I see Erin I am just reminded that she was hurt because I didn't stop her from going to see that lowlife." He took another shaky breath, his words suspended in the air, "I-I could have stopped her, gone with her, looked for her sooner, but I didn't. I'm her partner, I'm supposed to be her back up and her right hand, and I wasn't there, and now when I look at her it kills me."
The therapist nodded slowly, allowing Jay to take a breath. "You blame yourself."
"Wouldn't you?" Jay scoffed, "If something happened to your wife, and you could have stopped it, wouldn't you look at her differently?" He looked down at his hands, rubbing the callouses with the tips of his fingers.
Dr. Grier was quiet. "Guilt is a very natural reaction in situations like these. We often go over in our heads what we could have done differently but ultimately what we're faced with is the reality that it did happen. Jay, from what you told me, it sounds like you did everything you could. And I'll tell you, I was in a similar situation with my wife actually." Jay looked up from his hands to meet the doctor's gaze.
"We had a fight over something silly, and she got mad. We'd both been drinking and she got behind the wheel of a car." Dr. Grier paused, "And I didn't stop her. I could have, multiple times. I could have grabbed the keys, held her back, stood in the garage, but I didn't. And she ended up crashing into a tree around the block. Now thankfully she wasn't hurt badly, but the car was wrecked and she was really badly shaken up."
"I started by blaming myself, but I realized that it didn't help either of us. What my wife needed me to do was to be there for her. And the simple act of being there, that's what got us through." Dr. Grier offered a smile, "You might never look at Erin the same way. But you can love her and be there to help her through this."
Jay managed a wistful smile in response. "She is always there for me. Through all my shit. She's seen the good, the bad, the ugly. I-I've been there for her before too. I guess that's part of our thing. We're always there for one another."
Erin laid back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut. She just wanted this whole thing to be over. She wanted to forget about Charlie, forget about the basement and just go back to her normal life with Jay, before any of this happened.
She'd hurt him badly.
The look that passed over his face was one of hurt, heartbreak and helplessness as she'd shouted at him. He was just trying to help, and god, he was so worried about her. Erin wanted to kick herself for kicking him out, but at the same time, she couldn't bear to have him watch as the doctor whose name she'd already forgotten examined her.
"Are you ready to begin?"
The older woman's voice snapped Erin out of her thoughts. No, she wasn't ready. She didn't want to know if Charlie had done anything to her. She couldn't bear the thought of knowing that he'd hurt her again. She couldn't fathom having to tell Jay. How he'd look at her differently, knowing that another man had – "Erin?" the woman asked again, "Are you ready?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry," Erin cracked her eyes open, "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. You're in control here, alright Erin? Stop me if it gets too much, or you need a break."
Erin managed a slight nod and squeezed her eyes shut again as the doctor placed her gloved hands on her ankles. They were still so raw from being tied together, and Erin winced. The latexed fingers on her skin felt like she was being burned as the doctor methodically proceeded with the exam. Tears sprung to Erin's eyes as she gripped the hospital issue bedsheets in her fists, hoping and praying that nothing was wrong, that Charlie hadn't done anything without her knowing and that she could forget this whole thing ever happened. Erin could hear her own heart beating loudly in her chest as she tried to take her mind off what was happening. The doctor was doing her best to narrate all the actions, but Erin wasn't listening, overcome by the pounding in her ears.
In one motion of the doctor's hands, Erin suddenly was fourteen again. She was lying motionless on the bed as Charlie's hands were on her, in her, all over her. She could smell his signature scent and feel the all too familiar roughness of his palms as the exam continued. At one level, Erin knew she wasn't back there, that she couldn't possibly be fourteen again, but the combination of painkillers, anesthesia and the trauma of the last few days left her feeling overwhelmed and confused.
She the sheets as the doctor continued to speak words she couldn't hear. How many times did she have to convince herself that this time, she was in control? It felt like the walls of the room were closing in, and she let out a gasp, unable to keep it in. The doctor looked up and met Erin's terrified gaze. "Erin? Are you okay?"
Erin managed a nod. She needed this to be over as quickly as possible. She shut her eyes closed even tighter, trying to remain still. She was in the hospital, she was safe, she was in control.
"Erin, I need you to take a breath. You've just had surgery, and I don't want you to rip your stitches," the doctor spoke sternly and softly, trying to convey safety.
She attempted a deep breath, doing whatever she could to get Charlie's face out of her mind. The room swam in front of her as she struggled to inhale, the lingering impact of the lung infection coupled with her current situation making the task incredibly difficult.
"Erin?" the doctor repeated, pausing her movements, "Do you need a break?"
Against the will of her own body, Erin nodded her head, her knuckles white from her grip on the sheets between her fists as her eyes were screwed in anguish. "Y-yes," she stuttered, attempted to take another breath in, "A break."
"That's perfectly alright," the doctor said, moving back from the bed where Erin was lying, "Take all the time you need."
Erin tried to nod, but instead gasped for air, not realizing she'd been holding her breath again. "I do need you to breathe," the doctor spoke softly, "I know this is difficult and you've been through a lot, but you need to breathe."
She couldn't breathe. Each inhale felt like needles in her lungs and her stomach screamed, the pained gasps pulling at her stitches and further hurting her aching sides. She wanted this to be over, to be home, to forget, to be with Jay.
"I-I can't," Erin wheezed, releasing the sheets to cover her face with her hands, "I-I want Jay."
As soon as the words left her lips, Erin wanted to take them back. She didn't want him to see her like this, lying on the hospital bed, in the middle of a rape kit for an event she wasn't even sure had happened. She shook her head again, willing herself to comply with her brain's orders. "Your partner? I can make a call," the doctor said, reaching into the pocket of her coat, "Just hang tight, okay?"
"D-don't touch me!" Erin exclaimed, scrambling backwards on the bed, "Please, stop."
"It's alright," the doctor raised her hands, revealing the cell phone in her palm, "You're safe here, Erin."
Erin shook her head, feeling like she was almost another person, a person who couldn't survive another second without her partner. She struggled to reconcile the person she thought she was with the overwhelming desire to have her boyfriend beside her, holding her, telling her she was going to be okay. "Try to breathe, in and out," the doctor ordered as Erin wheezed, "Just one breath at a time, Erin, one breath."
"Get Jay," Erin begged, unable to convince herself that she didn't need him, "Please, I-I need Jay." She gasped again as her vision darkened, not enough oxygen reaching her lungs.
"I'm going to make the call," the doctor assured her, "He'll be here in a few. You're okay," she soothed, "You're safe."
"I need Jay," Erin repeated, crying in earnest now. She needed him. She needed him when she first awoke in the basement. She needed him when Charlie first hit her and when she fought sleep from the drugs he dosed her with. All those times she thought she just wanted him, but laying upon the bed in the middle of the procedure, Erin realized it was a need. He was the one who kept her together, and made her feel safe. She didn't want to need him, but her body was telling her otherwise. "Please, please."
"He's coming, honey," the doctor switched tactics, her authoritative tone now gentler, "Just hang on a few minutes."
A sob burst through Erin's lips. She couldn't believe what was happening. Here she was, a well-respected, put together, bad ass female detective, coming absolutely undone at a procedure she'd recommended for dozens of women. In her head, she knew the routine, but the execution was wreaking havoc on her heart.
The knock at the door caused Erin to jump. She attempted to wipe the tears off her face and get her ragged breathing under control as the doctor stood to answer. Deep breath, deep breath. Fuck, that hurts. Erin let out a soft squeak of pain, her stitches pulling as she struggled to take in a breath. Another breath. She could do it. Erin exhaled shakily, but the second she saw the concerned baby blues of her partner, she crumbled again, covering her face with her trembling hands.
Jay nodded at the doctor's words and quickly closed the space between them, wrapping his strong arms around Erin's quaking shoulders. "I'm here babe, I'm here," he whispered, his own heart shattering as she shook against him and buried her face in the crook of his neck, allowing her hands to grasp the material of the shirt he'd borrowed from Will's locker, "Shh, it's okay."
"I'm sorry," she sniffed after a few moments, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-" Another sob rose to the top of her throat before she could stop it. She tightened her grip on Jay's shirt while trying to get a grip on her emotions.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jay assured her, pressing his nose against the side of her head, "Absolutely nothing. I'm here for you, Er, no matter what. All I need for you to do is to try to take some deep breaths for me, okay? The doctor is worried about you ripping your stitches, and you're not getting enough oxygen."
He turned his head to the doctor, unsure of how to help as Erin wheezed. "Her O2 stats are getting too low," the doctor informed him, "She's got to breathe, otherwise we're going to need to put her under."
"No!" Erin yelped, attempting to hoist herself into her partner's lap to avoid the older woman standing beside her bed, "Please no."
"Try to match my breath," Jay tried, taking a deep breath while keeping his arms around his girl in an attempt to keep her on the bed and from ripping her stitches, "Just like this."
Erin took a shaky breath to match Jay's, a grimace playing on her lips as her lungs expanded. "Good job," Jay praised, stroking his fingers through her hair soothingly and taking another breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. "Don't try to talk yet, okay? Focus on my breath."
She let out a whimper, her lungs desperate for air but painfully constricting with each inhale. "Keep it up, babe. Another breath," Jay encouraged, "You're doing great."
She did as he instructed, each breath allowing her heart rate to decline as she pressed against him, feeling her partner's own heartbeat through his shirt. It felt like hours, but eventually she could speak.
"I-I didn't want you to be here," she choked out, still desperately clutching Jay's shirt in her fists like it was her lifeline, "I-I wanted to get through it myself but-" Erin paused as Jay kissed the top of her head and held her closer, "I didn't want to need you."
"I know, baby, I know," he whispered, "It's okay to ask for help. It's okay for you to be angry, and scared, and anything you need to feel. I'm here for whatever you need." Jay kissed the top of his partner's head again and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall from his own eyes as he held his partner closely.
They'd had their fair share of moments between them. Erin was always there to comfort Jay whenever he'd get caught up in a PTSD-fueled flashback. She'd held him tightly on the floor of the kitchen in his old apartment after Terry was killed, rubbing her hands up and down his arms to ground him. After Nadia was killed, Jay sat stoically beside his partner in her hotel room in New York. Erin had been unable to accept his physical embrace, reeling from the courtroom, but had been grateful just to have him beside her. The list went on, but this was different. The rawness of the moment, the sheer vulnerability in his partner's eyes broke Jay's heart a hundred times over.
"C-can you stay?"
Erin's simple request shattered Jay's heart for the hundred and first time that day.
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, reaching a hand to stroke the tears off her cheeks, "Whatever or wherever you need me, I'm there."