Authors note: Thank you all for your reviews and messages. I've read them all, even the guest ones that don't seem to appear but get emailed to me. I'm rather new to all of this so apologies if I get it wrong from time to time. I know my updates are rather short at the moment, but I'm trying to update regularly so bear with me on that front. Also, there's been a bit of confusion with my comment preciously about how this story will end. When I said I'm not sure if they'll end together, I meant Im not sure if I want to leave it with a hinted unification or an outright explicit one or even how exactly they will get back together. I assure you all, this is a Linstead fan fiction, and this is not a story following Jay's love story with Hailey, though she will be around. Happy reading!

Jay ran as fast as he could up the stairwell of the hospital two to three steps at a time. He was in a rush to get there as quick as he could, and waiting for the elevator had him anxious and jittery. He couldn't just stand there nothing. He had barely fallen asleep when his phone had buzzed, and he immediately left for the hospital, leaving Hailey behind in a deep slumber.

He didn't have time to wake her to tell her where he was going, he had to see it with his own eyes, confirm it himself before letting the others know. The young detective had sprinted from the car lot all the way to Hank Voight's room, ignoring the protests of the nurses as he passed that visiting times were over. And now, as he reached there, he couldn't bring himself to step foot inside. the curtains were drawn behind the glass screen door, which was open itself, and yet the curtain was not fully shut, allowing a peek into the room.

And there, standing over Hank Voights bed was a lady. A lady he almost didn't recognise at first. Almost. She had her back faced to Jay, unaware that he stood outside the room watching her every move, taking in her every detail. The woman that stood before him had dark brown hair, bordering black, which cascaded below her shoulders to her mid back. She was dressed casually, in her jeans and a sweatshirt, with her one hand cupping the side of Hank's face. Her other hand lay besides her head, which was resting against Hank's abdomen, sobs wracking through her body. The sound that emitted from her body left a strange tug in his chest, his own throat lumping up from the sound of her grief.

And then she spoke, confirming her identity to Jay. Her voice a strangled sound of pain and agony and he found himself stiffening upon hearing it. He knew that voice. He would recognise that voice anywhere, the distinctive throatiness of her voice, he would never forget it. She was here. She came. And she was hurting.

"Please Hank... don't go... don't leave me... you're all I have left..." she choked out.

For a second, a split second Jay's own pain, and anger at her for all that had transpired between them, dissipated. He would be inhumane to not feel sympathy for the woman who was once his entire world. But he couldn't dwell on it for too long because a nurses voice brought him back to the present.

"Excuse me sir, you shouldn't be here, can I help you?"

Jay closed his eyes. Erins shift in demeanour telling him all he needed to know. She was alerted to his presence in the room, though she had not yet turned around to face him, and so was not sure as to who exactly stood there intruding on her. In that moment, Jay realised two things. The first being that in his absent-mindedness, he had inched closer to the curtain and pulled it back ever so slightly as so to be able to get a better view. The second, that he was so taken aback by Erin's presence, so shocked by the whole thing that he didn't realise there was another man in the room. A man with his hand rubbing soothing circles on Erin's lower back.

As he opened his eyes, he saw from his peripheral vision that Severide had turned to look at him, but Jay could not get his eyes to leave Erin. He was in a paralysed state of nervous anticipation. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind before he had a chance to filter any particular one or even attempt to mentally answers some of the questions that raced his mind, but one particularly stuck out.

What was Kelly Severide doing here? Had Erin called him, and if so, why him? Why had Jay not received a call or message from Erin telling him she was here? Why had she not returned his calls or messages?

The questions left him uneasy, and if he was honest with himself, slightly perturbed. The whole situation was just fucked up.

"Oh hey man, I didn't know you were here. I heard about Voight from Brett earlier today. If there's anything you or intelligence need..." Kelly trailed off.

Jay nodded at the firefighter, with his eyes still trained on the back of Erin's head.

Clearing his throat he managed to murmur out a weak "thanks".

It was as his voice left his mouth that he saw Erin straighten her back. The nurse who had initially alerted his presence to Kelly and Erin had now left upon the realisation that Jay was no stranger to them both. He guessed visiting times weren't adhered to as strictly when next of kin were involved.

Erin finally turned around and Jay initially took a moment to absorb her with his eyes. Her hair was darker, as he previously observed. Long gone were the blonde highlights and feathered beach waves. She now had long straight hair, which cascaded below her shoulders to her upper bosom. It made her look older, but in a mature and wiser way. Jay took this moment to drink in every detail of her face, pinpointing exactly where the woman that stood before him had changed from the woman he once was prepared to call his wife. She had changed, that much was obvious, but as he took her in, he noticed the changes were somewhat subtle. She looked thinner, leaner almost, and her tear soaked cheekbones now showed a sharper edge. There were fine lines around her eyes, showing the creases of hurt and worry, but what shocked Jay most of all were her eyes. The eyes which once held so much rebellious energy and joy, the spark that he would see ignited as he once lovingly stared into the depths of her Hazel green orbs, they were flat. Dead almost.

Jay's heart sunk as he realised he had only seen her eyes once like this before, during her self-destructive spiral after Nadia's death. He shuddered to think this was where Erin was headed again. The detective attempted to push the dark memories from his mind, but with little success.

But as he tried, and failed to rid his mind of the memories that had not taunted him in so long, Jay came to the acceptance that this time, Erin's eyes were more worrisome. During what she had once called her 'sabbatical' after Nadia's death, Erin's eyes lost all the joy they once held. But they did not lose their determination or fiestiness. Even that day when he had gone to confront her for leaving him behind as her partner, her eyes held a sense of stubbornness and grit as she stared him down. Now all he saw was emptiness. The woman in front of him was a shell of the Erin Lindsay he once knew, she looked lonely and exhausted, not in the physical manner, but mentally, like she was done with the world and everything it had to offer. And Jay's test tightened as he recognised from his own mental degeneration whilst fighting PTSD that Erin must have looked this way for some time, long before she found out about Hank's current condition.

An awkward tension filled the room between Jay and Erin as they took each other in, so palpable in fact that Kelly stood there awkwardly, eyebrows raised slightly rubbing the back of his hand against the back of his neck. When he answered Erin's call earlier that night, he had never imagined he would be comforting his ex-girlfriend during her first encounter with her ex-boyfriend since their breakup. This situation of ex-flings and ex-romances was all too messed up, even for Kelly, so he cleared his throat trying to ease some of the tension in the room.

"Hey Kel, can you give us a moment?" Erin finally spoke.

"Err, yeah sure. Let me know if you need anything Er, I'll be downstairs.

Jay cringed slightly at the nickname. He had always called her that, so now it felt strange having it come out of another man's mouth, even if it was platonically from Kelly Severide.

Erin tore her eyes away from Jay and turned to face Kelly, offering him a small smile and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder in appreciation.

"Thanks Kelly, really, but I'm good now. Go home, get some rest, tell Stella I said hi."

Kelly looked at her sceptically.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded once.

"I am."

Kelly took that as all the confirmation he needed, he was on shift tomorrow and would need all the sleep he could get. Gathering his jacket from the chair besides Voight's bed, he placed a quick kiss on Lindsay's cheek before heading out the door.

Jay found him inhaling deeply. In the last few minutes as Erin and Kelly said their goodbyes to one another, he felt a creeping sense of irritation take over him and he couldn't explain why. He wanted to say everything he was feeling to Erin. He wanted to shout, and scream, and shake her by the shoulders asking where she was the past five years. But he also wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine and give her the silent treatment. Jay was conflicted on so many fronts that he wasn't even sure where to begin.

Lucky for him, Erin was the one to begin.

"Hey Jay."

Her face was neutral, and had dropped the small smile it had given Severide moments ago. Jay was envious on that front. He didn't harbour any romantic feelings for the woman before him, at least not anymore (that's what he told himself and in that moment he truly believed it, he was happily engaged), but it reminded him of the simpler and happier times between them, not just romantically, but as partners and friends, and this was a harsh reminder that this was not simpler times. As for her voice, it was timid, unsure of itself, as if she was a stranger coaxing a scared child. It all felt so strange, like he was dreaming, or in an alternate universe at the very least.

Jay opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His tongue felt heavy and his lips would not move. She stood there for a moment, waiting for him to reply to her greeting, but when she realised he wasn't ready to talk, she spoke again.

"You look good."

Jay couldn't speak, but if he could, he would have told her she looked good too. Erin may have changed, but she looked as beautiful as always. In fact, if things were as normal between them as they once were, he would have casually quipped and retorted "tell me something I don't already know" and offered her a smile. But he didn't, because he couldnt.

This time though, she offered him a small half smile, very reluctant and unsure of itself. Looking at her face then, Jay's mind raced back to hundreds of flashbacks before focussing on one: the time Erin had told intelligence she was leaving them for the joint task force. She had stood there, hands on her hips, with teary eyes as she had offered him the same smile she had plastered on her face just now. It only took thinking back to that day, and his struggle with his contrasting emotions, that caused Jay's resolve to shake. That day, he was proud of her for being recruited by the feds, but he didn't want to admit just how much he was broken at the thought of losing her.

But then he lost her anyway, at least she bothered with a goodbye that time. His mind taunted him.

And now, as he stood there in an enclosed hospital room, with his boss laying comatose behind her, her familiar smile brought back emotions from that day. His throat constricted, eyes welling up he felt all the pain he thought he had healed from when he lost her five years ago. And not for the first time today, he found himseld filled with anger directed towards her for being the source of that pain. And the anger finally boiled over, as he opened his mouth to speak, his bitter and harsh voice surprising even him.

"What are you doing here?"

Erin recoiled at the tone of his words, before she composed herself. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she took in what he said.

Why wouldn't she be here? What kind of a question was that? Hank lay on the bed she was standing next to, fighting for his life. Did she really need to spell it out to him?

But for Jay, his question held a different meaning. He should've added now to the end of his question because if he was being truthful, he wanted to know why now. There were plenty of times where Hank needed her in the past five years, where the team needed her, where he needed her and she wasn't there. But this time Jay was determined to find answers. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to rephrase his question, knowing that once he did, there was no turning back from the potential pain and hurt their words would cause.