So I started writing a different chapter to update with, but then this idea came to me and I wanted to publish it first. I am NOT sorry about this chapter, haha, and I wish this could have happened this season. So this takes place late season 4, but in a version where they'd all got their shit together, no one moved out or changed partners. Basically what we all hoped for.
After the news yesterday about Sophia, Fanfiction is really what's comforting me right now. While I won't accept anything completely until it's confirmed by her, I do have a feeling that we're not going to be happy with what happens to our dear Linstead … just as many of us haven't been happy the last couple of months anyway. That being said, I aim to continue writing for these two, because I love living in denial and pretending they're happy. I had planned for this story to reach 15 chapters, but I only have one left so far. So, if you have any requests or suggestions, please leave a review or send me a message, and I will definitely consider it. Just don't ask me to write one where she comes back to tell Jay she's leaving, because while the thought did pop into my head today, I don't think I'll ever be ready to write that (unless I'm ever feeling particularly viscous). I hope this chapter helps you feel better about our favourite couple.
/
It starts as a normal day, like any other. Erin drives her and Jay to work as usual, joking and drinking coffee. They enter the District and head straight for their desks, starting on paperwork while they wait for everyone else to arrive. She has no idea that by the end of the day, her life will have changed.
The unit gets called to raid a known drop point for a big time dealer. Everyone's geared up, since they're not sure what to expect. Attwater knocks down the door and they all rush in. Jay and Erin take the front of the downstairs while Ruzek and Olinksy take the back, Voight and Attwater heading upstairs.
They cover each other, moving stealthily through the hallway as they clear each room like the well-oiled machine they are. They enter the kitchen, where two bodies are slumped on the floor. Jay heads over to one, while Erin heads for the other.
"He's gone." Jay calls, having reached his victim first.
Erin's brow furrows as she stares at the back of the body lying before her. She knows that flannel shirt …
Her eyes widen as she reaches down and turns the immobile body towards her. It's her mother.
"Erin?" Jay comes up behind her. His step falters when he realises who it is in front of them.
"Oh my god."
Jay's hand wraps around her arm, pulling her away as his other hand reaches for his radio.
"Sarge, you need to get down here." He says roughly. Erin's still staring blankly down at her mother's dead body and there's panic flooding through his veins. He has to get her away from this. He grips her hand tightly in his, tugging her from the room with a soft come on. She follows him wordlessly back out into the harsh Chicago cold.
There's white noise filling her ears, and her vision tunnels down to a single point. She doesn't register the tight feeling in her chest or her ragged breathing. She doesn't even notice Jay right in front of her, calling her name to try and get her attention.
"Erin!"
His voice finally breaks through her jumbled thoughts and she jumps, her wide eyes meeting his.
"Come on, let's get out of here." Her partner suggests.
She shakes her head vigorously. "No, I can't go until I know what happened."
"Erin …" His voice is soft and tender, but she can't let him comfort her yet. Not here, or she'll break down and that'll be it. One pleading look from her tells him all this, and he nods in acknowledgement. He may not understand it, but he'll do anything she asks.
They only wait for ten minutes, but it feels like an eternity for both of them. An ambulance arrives and Voight exits the house, making his way to where the two of them stand.
"Erin." Jay can tell their sergeant doesn't know what to say either.
"She is dead, isn't she?" Her quiet voice asks.
Voight simply nods. "I'm sorry, kid."
She swallows thickly because asking more. "Do you know …"
Hank understands what she needs to know without her saying so. "Looks like an overdose. There are no defensive wounds or injuries that indicate otherwise."
Erin nods, words failing her once more.
"Jay, get here out of here." Voight orders, his gruff voice thicker than usual. He and Jay wordlessly agree that she can't be here any longer.
Jay nods, and wraps an arm around Erin's waist, leading her back to the car. Surprisingly, she allows the comfort and doesn't even blink when he opens the passenger door for her. There's no way in hell he's letting her drive right now.
/
He'd led her upstairs through the back exit when they'd arrived back at the District, and sat her down in the break room while making them both coffee. He hears her leave the room while his back is turned, but gives her a couple of minutes before following her. He knows exactly where she's going.
When he enters the locker room, his love is sitting on the floor with her knees drawn into her chest, her back against the blue metal. He's not sure what he was expecting, but he isn't surprised to find her face devoid of any emotion or expression.
"Sweetheart?" He says softly, lowering himself to sit beside her on the ground.
She blinks, but doesn't offer him a response.
He stops himself from reaching over to touch her, knowing she's so far inside her own head right now.
"I'm so sorry, Erin."
She nods absentmindedly, but still doesn't make a sound.
He joins her in silence, knowing that she's still processing, and trusting her to let him in when she's done so.
"I don't know how to feel."
Her husky voice startles him. It's the first sentence she's said to him since they'd left the house they found Bunny in.
'That's ok, Erin. No one expects you to feel a certain way right now. You're allowed to feel however you do."
"But that's the thing, I don't know how I feel. Normal people would be upset that their mother had just died." Her voice is low and hollow, sparking worry within him.
"Most people have a very different relationship with their mother than you did with Bunny. A relationship that wasn't your fault."
"Still, I should feel something about the fact that my mother is dead. But I don't feel anything."
"It's been a long battle with her, Erin." Jay says softly. "No one can blame you for feeling confused."
"I'm not confused though. I know how I should feel, but it's not what I'm feeling."
"There isn't a set way to deal with this, especially in your situation. You know we all grieve in different ways. You haven't even had time to process this."
She doesn't nod her head or anything, just simply blinks. She still hasn't looked at him since he entered the room, and he's growing more and more concerned by the minute.
The buzzing of his phone in his pocket breaks his focused gaze from his girlfriend, and he digs it out to read a message from Voight.
I'm back. If she's okay by herself for a minute, come see me.
He sighs, not knowing what to do. He knows Hank must be worried about her, just as he is, but he really doesn't want to leave her alone. Not like she's really responding to him anyway.
"Babe? Are you alright if I go talk to Voight? I'll just be a minute." He takes her hand in his gently, running his thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly.
She nods slightly, still silent and staring straight ahead.
He squeezes her hand and gets up, heading for his boss's office.
"How is she?" Voight asks gruffly.
Jay sighs and runs a hand across his face. "Still in shock, barely speaking, won't even look at me. I don't know what to say to her. There's nothing I can do to make this better for her."
Voight nods in agreement, defeat lining his expression. "All the times I wished Bunny out of Erin's life, I never imagined it like this. Not a way that would hurt Erin."
"She doesn't know how to feel." Jay tells him. While he always keeps conversations between Erin and him to himself, right now her father deserves to know how she's coping.
Hank sighs. "Do you think I should talk to her?"
Jay shrugs. "Maybe later? I should go check on her."
The sergeant nods. "I'll keep everyone away from the locker room."
"Thanks." Jay says gratefully. While he and Hank don't always see eye to eye, Erin is the one common thread they will always have.
/
As he enters the locker room once more, the first thing he hears is silent sobs coming from his girlfriend. His heart cracks that little bit more as he hurries back to her side.
She's still in the same place where he left her, only her hand is covering her face in attempt to muffle her sobs as tears track their way down her cheeks. The pain in his heart that's always there when his girl cries only intensifies.
"Erin," he murmurs as he slides down to the floor and immediately pulls her into his arms. His next words die on his lips; because he can't tell her it'll all be okay. Not right now. So he holds her tightly as her body shakes with the force of her sobs.
Eventually her cries die and the two of them are left sitting in silence once more.
"I'm a terrible person."
Her whisper cuts through the air, causing him to turn to her, disbelief covering his face.
"What?"
"I lied before, when I said I didn't know how to feel. I know how I feel, but I didn't want to admit it. From the moment I saw her dead body, I just felt relieved. What kind of person feels like that?" She chokes out.
"Someone who's been treated terribly by that person their entire life." Jay answers honestly. "Erin, you are not a terrible person. You are kind and generous and amazing, despite all the hell that she put you through. I don't know how you turned out so amazing with the childhood that you had, but you did."
As he speaks, tears fill her eyes again. Everything he's saying is a lie. She's not all those wonderful things. Not when she's feeling the way she feels right now.
"You are, Erin." He says, knowing where her mind has gone. He ignores her shaking of her head, barrelling on. "You are the best person I know, and nothing Bunny ever said to you can change that."
"A good person wouldn't feel relieved that their mother is dead." She gasps.
"Someone who's been through as much as you would." He murmurs.
"It's not an excuse." She mutters.
"No, it's not." He agrees. "But it's completely justified."
His hand finds her jaw, and he tilts her face up to his so that she has no option but to look right at him.
"You are not a terrible person because of her, Erin. You're an amazing person despite all of her attempts."
His words finally seem to resonate with her, and this time when tears fill her eyes, it's from relief. She leans back into his chest, pressing her ear to the spot where she can hear his heartbeat, letting it soothe her.
One hand of his cards through the soft strands of her hair, while the other is steady on her back. He holds her like he's protecting her from all the horrors of their world. If he could, he'd take her far, far away, where she'd never have to feel pain or anguish again.
"Thank you for being here." Her soft voice is muffled against his shirt.
He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that baby, you know that. I'll always be here for you."
Truth is, he's just glad she's allowing him to comfort her, rather than pulling away and running. They're both changed so much in the last few years, and for the better. He can't imagine how she'd be going through this alone. He silently reminds himself that he'll never let her go through anything by herself again.
"What do you want to do?" He asks softly. He desperately wants to take her home right now, but he'll let her make the call about what she needs.
"I don't know." She answers quietly.
"Why don't we go see Hank?" He suggests. "I know he's worried about you."
She nods silently and allows him to help her up, taking her hand and leading her into Hank's office.
Her father figure reassures her of the same things that Jay did, but while his words help, they don't have the same impact that her partner's did. He insists that they both take the rest of the day off, so she and Jay both head home before going to the gym. He seems to understand what she needs better than she does. She still feels numb, but every time she looks at Jay, he gives her a small smile and a squeeze of her hand, and it helps more than she ever could have imagined. Just having his support is enough.
/
A week later, she's standing in front of her mother's grave, staring down at the name carved across the headstone.
"Hey." Jay murmurs as he comes up behind her. He'd left her so she could have a minute alone, but that minute had stretched on and now they're the only two left, besides Hank, who he knows is waiting in the car park.
"Hey." She whispers back, her eyes still tracing the words before her. She smiles slightly when she feels Jay's hand slip around hers.
He doesn't say anything else, just leaves her to her thoughts that he's sure she'll eventually share with him.
"I did love her. Even though she was a horrible person who did terrible things, she was my mother, and I did love her."
"That's because you're you." Jay says. "And she did do a lot of terrible things, but there's one good thing she did."
Erin's brow furrows in confusion as she turns her head to face him. "What?"
Jay smiles softly. "She had you. I'm so glad she did, because I can't imagine my life without you."
Her heart practically melts in her chest, and she steps forward into his embrace.
"I love you." She whispers.
"I love you too." He whispers back.
She pulls away, and leans down to brush her palm across the stone.
"Goodbye, Mom."
As she takes Jay's hand in hers once more and follows him out of the cemetery, he feels a strange kind of lightness inside of her chest. Now she knows her mother will no longer have a hold on her, and she can start to truly leave her past behind. All she's interested in is her future with Jay.