Chapter 9,

Jay couldn't remember the last time he had been this exhausted. The past week had been one of the most physically and emotionally draining weeks of his life, and then Sophie spent the entire weekend unusually fussy. He had actually been entirely surprised by Sophie's behavior. Erin had travelled to New York with Voight for work a few months back, and while Sophie was definitely a little more temperamental during that time, this weekends behavior truly didn't compare. She was a wreck... and he was bone tired.

He and Erin hadn't spoken since he left Voight's Saturday night. They had never gone this long without communicating with each other. They rarely ever argued, but even the occasional times that they had fought, they never went to bed angry. And they certainly didn't go a full day without speaking. But now it was Monday morning, and it had been a full 36 hours since they had spoken a word.

At first, he thought Erin was mad at him for leaving so quickly without even a discussion, that she was giving him the silent treatment. But soon he realized it wasn't that... it wasn't that at all. She wasn't purposely or actively ignoring him, she probably wasn't even thinking of him... he was just irrelevant to her. This version of her wasn't preoccupied with thoughts of him or their daughter.

Those thoughts disheartened more than any of the rest of it... and after he dropped off Sophie at daycare, he drove to work with the music blaring, trying to drown out his thoughts. He was looking forward to a long, distracting day of work.

0000000000000000

Despite her best efforts, Erin did not recover any new memories over the long weekend. She poured over photo album after photo album, analyzing every picture with Sophie. She memorized her face at every age, completely transfixed by her slow transformation from a tiny baby to a beautiful blonde hair hazel eyed beauty.

The whole time, through every album, she avoided the pictures of her and Jay.

For some reason, even though she had clearly missed all of the developmental milestones of her baby, she felt she could learn them through pictures. She could relearn how to be a mother to her daughter, and then she wouldn't miss the rest of the moments. Her daughter had so much more life to live, and while two years was a lot to miss... Hank had missed 15 years of her life and he was still the best father she could have ever wished for.

But things felt different with Jay. The development of their relationship... the milestones they had reached... Missing out on those and moving on from them felt insurmountable. So, she avoided the pictures. Because seeing evidence of the best moments of her life and not being able to remember them was too painful.

Hank had agreed to let Erin go back to work, and for that she was beyond grateful. Erin was sure Hank had only agreed to get her away from the photo albums, but she didn't care what his reasons were. As long as it got her out of the house. She had loved that house... it was the first real home she had ever known. But right now, the walls felt like they were closing in on her.

Hank drove her to work, and they had arrived an hour early so he could give her a tour of District 21. She had been relieved when she learned Sergeant Platt was the desk Sergeant and that Alvin Olinsky was in their unit. She had known Platt and Olinsky since she was 15, and she welcomed the familiar faces in the wholy unfamiliar environment.

After showing Erin around the district, Hank brought her to the bullpen and showed her to her desk. "You have about 30 minutes until everyone gets here." Hank told her. He had wanted her to have some time at her desk alone, reacquainting herself with her things, before the rest of the team made their appearances. "Coffee's in the break room." He pointed in the direction of the break room, and then began walking towards his office. "You going to be okay out here?"

"Yeah," the unsteadiness of her voice gave her away, but she nodded, giving Hank permission to leave her alone. She took a deep breath and sat down at her desk. She glided her fingers against the familiar wood of the government issued desks and leaned back in her leather chair, slowly taking it all in.

She recognized a photo on the left side of her desk, next to the phone. It was a picture of Hank, Camille, Justin, and her from the day she graduated from the academy. She never remembered a time where she felt happier or more proud of herself than she did on that day. Hank and Camille had taken her and Justin out to a fancy dinner afterwards, and Hank had given her a heartfelt speech that had them all tearing up over their wine. The photo was in the same brown frame it had been in when it graced her desk at Vice. The presence of the photo relaxed her, giving this desk even more of a sense of familiarity.

The photo on the right side of her desk was one she did not recognize. It was a picture of her with Jay and Sophie in a silver frame. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the photo, and she picked it up so she could analyze it closer. Erin was dressed in a black dress with black and gold stiletto heels, her hair was in a low bun and her makeup was smoky but subtle. Sophie was in her arms wearing a white dress with a large purple ribbon. After mapping Sophie's timeline last night, Erin figured Sophie was about 12-14 months in the picture. Her hair was curled in ringlets, but it was significantly shorter than her hair now. She had a purple bow in her hair, that was slightly falling out of place. Jay was wearing a charcoal grey suit, with a blue shirt and a skinny blue and grey tie. He was clean shaven, and he looked magnificent.

They looked like the world's most perfect family. But that wasn't what took her breath away when she peered at the picture.

In the photograph, Sophie was the only one looking at the camera. Erin had been looking down at her daughter, a huge and adoring smile plastered on her face. But Jay... Jay had been looking at Erin lovingly, a huge grin on his face. No one had ever looked at her the way Jay was looking at her in this picture... like she was his entire world. Like he loved her so deeply and so completely that he couldn't even take his eyes off her for one moment to look at the camera.

The thought gave her goosebumps, and she immediately wrapped her arms around herself trying to warm and calm her body.

Suddenly the familiarity of the government supplied wooden desk and the Voight family photo wasn't enough, and she needed to stand up and walk away from the desk. She decided to walk into the break room and give herself a minute to collect herself.

She was brewing a cup of coffee when she heard voices come through the open door of the break room.

"Jesus, Halstead." An unfamiliar voice said in the bullpen. "You look like shit."

Erin's ears perked up at the sound of someone addressing Jay. She hadn't even realized he was here yet.

"Bite me, Ruzek." Erin watched as Jay fell into the chair at the desk across from hers.

Ruzek walked over to Jay's desk, and patted him on the back. "Seriously though. Is everything okay, man?"

Jay put his head in his hands, and responded without looking up. "Sophie has been a terror all weekend." He emphasized the word terror, and Erin's breath hitched at the sound of her daughter's name. Reflexively, she began walking towards the doorway. "I guess being abandoned by her mother isn't so fun for her." His voice was sarcastic and angry, and it stopped Erin in her tracks.

She hadn't realized she had made a sound, but suddenly Ruzek and Jay's eyes were on her, staring at her in the doorway. She stood self-consciously and unmoving for another moment, but then retreated inside the break room, returning to the coffee machine. The coffee was ready, and she busied herself pouring and preparing it.

Shit. Jay had not expected to see Erin at work, and he certainly hadn't intended for her to overhear that comment. It was a distasteful and offensive thing to say, and he hadn't truly meant it. He was just overtired and working on a short fuse.

He gave Ruzek an apologetic nod, and walked into the break room to talk to Erin. He closed the door shut quietly behind him and looked over at her. She was standing and facing the counter, pouring cream into her cup of coffee. He noticed that her hand was trembling, and she was tapping the counter with her other hand, like she did when she was upset about something. "Hey," he said quietly, the word coming out like a sigh.

"Hi." She said the word quickly, not looking back at him. Tears were welling up in her eyes and she didn't want him to see how much his words had affected her. He had used the word abandoned.

She had spent the weekend convincing herself that she could be a good mother to Sophie. The desperate "I want Mommy!" running on repeat finally died down, and she had spent the rest of the weekend studying her daughter like she was preparing to take a test. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to that while she was preparing herself to 'resume motherhood', her daughter had been left feeling abandoned.

That had never been her intention.

"I'm sorry I said that," Jay said, coming up behind Erin and settling his hands on her shoulder.

The feeling of his hands on her surprised her, and she flinched at his touch. She instinctively turned around, forgetting about hiding her tears from him. "Don't be. You're right."

He reached out and wiped her tears away with his thumb, and gave her a sad smile. "I wasn't being fair. I'm just..." He kept his hand resting on her cheek and looked into her hazel eyes. The eyes that could always instantly calm him, but now looked so uncertain, so scared. "I think I'm a little out of my element here." He moved his hand slowly down her neck, his fingertips now trailing the length of her collarbone. "I know you are too." He knew he should moved his hand away, knowing the gesture might be too intimate for her. He just needed to feel her warm skin under his hands. He had turned over so many times in the night reaching for her, each time disappointed when his hand found the cold, empty sheet. "We are just going to have to do the best we can to figure all of this out."

"Yeah." She reveled in the feel of his hand on her skin, barely able to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. "I'm just not sure how." She whispered in reply. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she didn't see any easy answers. She didn't know how they should approach the situation.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" He finally willed himself to remove his hand from her skin. Instead of putting it in a safe place, like his pocket, he rested it on the countertop, essentially cornering her into the tight place between him and the counter.

"Okay," she said, more confidently than she felt. Her eyes drifted from Jay's green eyes to his lips, and then back to his eyes. The magnetic pull she had felt in the hospital had returned and she had a sudden urge to kiss him. "I'd like that."

Jay watched as Erin's eyes found his lips, and he decided to seize the opportunity. He moved his hand from the counter, and found the small of her back. He pulled her into him ever so slowly, never breaking eye contact. He leaned in ever so slightly, giving her adequate time to pull away if she wanted.

Then he placed his lips gently on hers. She hesitated, only for a moment, and then she kissed him back.

And just for a moment they forgot everything - her injury, the memory loss, the hurt and confusion and sadness that followed. He kissed her, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin and feeling the warmth of her body under his hands. She kissed him back, reveling in the sensations that felt equal parts exciting and new, but also familiar and comfortable. As their kiss deepened and grew more intimate, the world fell away. It was just the two of them, floating away... lips, hands, hearts.

Suddenly, a light knock at the door jolted them apart, and Erin reached up to smooth her hair. "Come on, we have a case." A voice said at the other side of the door. Another voice she didn't recognize. And just like that, they were forced back to reality.