AN: First of all, I am so very sorry for the wait. School has been keeping me very busy.
Secondly, I know this chapter is super short, I apologize for that as well.
I also couldn't really figure out where this story was going. I hoped for some inspiration from the show but what the hell? I have so many thoughts on the last couple of episodes, I don't even know where to start.
Erin's POV
I'm willing myself not to cry as I hit the steering wheel over and over again.
Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated? I ask myself.
But once I start to really think about it, the answer seems quite simple.
Everything is not complicated. I am complicated.
I have fucked up yet another good thing in my life and now he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore.
With the way he stalled at the door and lied right to my face, I can't help but wonder whether there was someone else in his apartment. Another woman.
Did he meet someone new?
Did he move on? Already?
No. No, no, no. He wouldn't do that to me. He would never do that to me.
After all, he is the only person I can really trust. The only one I can feel safe with.
Aside from Hank, obviously, but that was different.
Anger rises inside me and I can feel a stray tear rolling down my cheek.
If it hadn't been for him, I would be sitting on Jay's couch, eating Chinese takeout, drinking a cold beer.
If it hadn't been for his stupid 'no in-house romances' rule, I would fall asleep with Jay next to me tonight.
If I had just stood up to Hank…
I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair, as if to rid myself of all the thoughts running through my mind.
I shake my head and start the car.
Once I settle down on my couch with a cold beer, I pull out my phone.
I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea, but I dial the number anyway.
"Hey," The voice on the other end of the line answers.
"Hey yourself." I reply, trying to sound playful.
"Oh Erin," Of course she would catch onto it. "What's going on?"
"He doesn't even want to talk to me anymore." I state matter-of-factly.
"What? I don't believe that."
"I think he moved on." It comes out as more of a whisper.
"Why would you say that?" She sounds surprised.
"I don't know."
"Did he say something like that?" She questions.
"No," I answer quickly. "No, he hasn't. I just have this feeling. Like something's off, you know?"
"I'm sure it's nothing, Erin." I know she is trying to calm me, to reassure me. But it's not really working.
I stay quiet for a while, not knowing what to say.
I try to recall the conversation from half an hour ago.
What was he hiding from me?
Why wouldn't he let me in?
I almost laugh out loud, realizing the irony of that last question. Why wouldn't he let me in? I was the one to push him away. Every. Single. Time.
"I could talk to him if you want."
"No, you shouldn't. It's fine." I stutter, her offer bringing me back to reality.
"Er-"
"Really, it's cool. I'm not even sure why I called." I cut her off.
"Because I'm your friend and I'm here for you."
I can't help but smile at her words. She really was my friend. Probably my best friend. "Thanks Kim."
I hang up the phone and lean back into my couch.
Taking a swig from my beer, I curse myself for calling Kim.
Please don't go over and talk to him, I think.
I love Kim, I really do, but she has this helper syndrome.
As a cop, that's a great quality, bit it also means that she always wants to fix things. And I'm not sure if this one can be fixed.
I sit there for at least another hour, just staring at the black screen of my TV, before sleep finally starts to take over.
"So?" raising an eyebrow, Kim draws out the 'o'.
"So what?" I look up from my paperwork, a look of genuine confusion crossing my face.
"Oh come on, Erin." She looks at me intently. After a moment of silence, she leans against my desk and says, "You can tell me."
"Tell you what?" I am almost sorry for the tone of annoyance in my voice, but Kim is still not giving up.
"Last night?" She says to clarify her question.
"You already know that."
"And then?" Her brown eyes are searching my hazel for an answer. "Nothing else happened?"
"What are you talking abou-?" My question gets cut short.
"Lindsay. You seen Halstead?" Panic rises in me and I'm not sure where to place it.
It's not necessarily the question that is making me nervous.
It's more the tension in Hank's voice that lets me know something is not right.
"No." I turn to look at him, realizing that it came out as more of a question than answer.
Hank huffs as he turns his back to me and starts walking towards his office.
I follow him.
After closing the door, I turn around to him.
"What's wrong?"
"It's nothing, Erin." He says as he sits down in his chair, his left ankle resting comfortably on his right knee.
"Hank." One word is enough to let him know I am serious.
"Fine, I don't know what it is." He admits.
"Hank." I repeat, this time it's more of a warning than a request.
"Halstead," Hank shifts in his chair, the situation clearly making him uncomfortable.
I can see that he is choosing his next words very carefully.
"He seems to be missing."
AN: Please review and let me know if you have any ideas for this story.