#NBCChicagoDay Had me in front of the computer for most of the day yesterday and this chapter sort of finished writing itself. Thank you again for the kind reviews. Ya'll are the most lovely bunch of humans!

I own nothing. I might own Lucy, but I'll fork her over if CPD writers want her *wink* *wink*

Jay looks gravely at his brother and says, "It's not Lucy I'm worried about."

Will furrows his brow and says, "Who are you worried about?"

"It's Erin."

Jay slowly relates the events of the past two days to his brother. Will listens intently, unable to ignore the shattering stroke of Jay's heart with every word he utters.

"Wait, Erin doesn't remember the last five years?"

"No, she doesn't," Jay says soberly. "The last thing she remembers was handing in her badge after Nadia died." Jay scratches his head. "How is that even possible?"

Will is taken aback. He quickly racks his brain and says, "There are many reasons that can cause memory loss on a person."

"Could it be reversed? Could Erin's memory return?"

"I can't know for sure what is going on with Erin until I do a full eval on her. Has she been vomiting or feeling nauseous?"

Jay shakes his head, "No."

"Has she been having headaches or dizzy spells?"

"No," Jay says, "She is physically fine. She just can't remember the last five years."

Will runs a hand through his hair. "She needs to be seen. This could be potentially serious."

"She asked me to wait until tomorrow."

"She needs medical attention, Jay. You have to convince her to see someone. I can stay late and we can run a few tests. Nobody needs to know."

"Erin's stubborn," Jay says.

"She might be more willing to accept help after today," Will offers.

"Or she will completely shut me out."

Will smiles empathetically. "C'mon," Will says offering Jay a hand. "I need to do my rounds and you need to be with Erin and Lucy. I will stop by in a little while check in on her. They will probably release her later today."

Jay pulls Will for a hug and says, "Thanks for everything."

Will leaves and Jay walks back to the room, finding Erin holding a now sleeping Lucy in her arms. Jay watches Erin rock Lucy, while tears rolls down her cheeks. It's a heartbreaking scene to watch. He feels powerless, knowing he is unable to fix whatever is broken within Erin that.

"Hey," he says approaching the bed.

Erin looks up and with a free hand she dabs at her eyes. "Hi."

Jay runs his hand over Lucy's cheek and says, "She's finally out, uh?"

"Yeah, the nurse said the medication they are pumping into her are to blame."

Jay kisses Lucy's hair and pulls a chair closer to the bed, taking a seat. "Will said they should be releasing her later today."

Erin releases a shaky breath and says, "That's good." She looks down at Lucy and then gravely back at Jay. "Hey, um, I've been thinking." She blinks a few times, and says through clenched teeth, "Maybe I should keep my distance for a while."

Taken aback, Jay stands up pushing the chair abruptly across the tiled floor. His ears buzz and he feels his world shift out of balance. "What are you talking about, Erin?"

Erin tightens her hold on Lucy and says, "I'm not myself. I keep thinking that this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been there..."

Jay recognizes this pattern of thinking and he knows exactly where she is headed. Down.

"…And it's always the people that I care about the most that ends up getting hurt," Erin adds.

"Erin," Jay says cupping her face so that she is looking directly in his eyes. "This was not your fault."

Erin turns away and says, "Jay, don't need to sugar coat things for me. If I had known Lucy was allergic to peanuts I would have pulled the can out of her hand the instant I saw her taking it from the drawer."

"It doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "You are not keeping your distance from us. You hear me?" He says.

Tears effortlessly spill from Erin's eyes. "Jay—"

"No Erin," he interrupts her. "Whatever is happening with you, we'll figure it out… together," Jay says, emphasizing the last word. He pulls her into hug, feeling the strain of her muscles under the tips of his fingers. Jay's heart tightens inside his chest. Everything seems to be slipping away from his grasp and he can't find any quick absorbing action that will get it under control. "We'll figure this out."

The moment is interrupted by the door opening behind them. Jay turns and sees an anxious Hank walking in.

"I came as soon as I heard," he says. "How's Lucy?" He asks.

Erin turns, trying desperately, but failing to hide her tear-stricken face.

Jay clears his throat. "She's good now," he says. He looks straight at Erin and adds, "It was just a scare."

"Oh, good." Hank releases a breath he'd been holding. He walks up to Erin and says, "How're you doing, kid?"

"Uh, not good," Erin says honestly.

Hank smiles knowingly and runs his hand over Lucy's hair. "What did the doctors say?"

"They said she's stable. They want to keep her under observation for a little while," Jay says. "But she should be discharged later today."

"Good," Hank says. He pats Jay on the back and adds, "I will let the team know all is good. If anything changes, call."

"We will," Jay says.

Hank cups Erin's jawline and when he sees worry still etched on her face he gives her chin a slight squeeze. "Things happen, kid. Trust me. Lucy is alright. She's tough."

A faint smile pulls at the corners of Erin's lips.

"Keep me in the loop," Hank says and with a final wave, he leaves.

The room falls silent.

After a moment Jay takes a seat next to Erin and says, "The first time I held Lucy was in the NICU. The nurses pulled her out of the incubator and placed here," Jay says patting his chest. "I remember she jerked once and kicked out her legs. Her tiny face screwed up, and she began to cry. I went to move my hand, but my hospital arm band caught on a line on her foot and pulled it out. Turns out, it was an artery line. An alarm sounded and within seconds, two nurses were pulling Lucy from me. I felt like the worse parent in the world. But you," Jay says looking at Erin. "You took my hand and said, 'Try again.'"

He remembers clearly that Erin had been scared out of her mind just as he was when the alarm pierced he air in the NICU. But instead reprimanding or adding fuel to his already guilty conscience, she simply told he to try again.

"What happened today was scary and I would be lying if I told you that I'm totally okay. But I'm going to tell you the same thing you told me that day in the NICU. Try again. If not for me, for Lucy."

"Jay, I'm not in a headspace right now that I can trust myself with…anything," she says and looks down at Lucy. Her eyes brim with unshed tears. "I thought I could handle it, but…" She lets the sentence linger.

Jay feels as if someone is pulling his internal strings and lacerating every organ in his body. "You're not in this alone. I'm here."

"I can't be the mom Lucy needs right now…I'm no better than my own mother."

Jay's eyes glistens. "Erin…"

"My mother never meant to hurt me, but she did. So many times. And I forgave her every time. I believed her each time she said she would change – but she never did. Then one day, I just ran out of forgiveness, and I started to hate her," Erin says with her gaze drawn to sweet Lucy's face. "I don't want that for Lucy."

"Erin, listen to me. You are not your mom. The past two years have proven that much. Lucy is the luckiest kid in the world to have you as her mom."

With her heart broken in pieces, she looks away and says, "I'm not that Erin..."

There is a coldness to her voice that Jay hasn't heard is a very long time.

Just then, the door opens and Will, accompanied by a nurse, enters the room. They take Lucy from Erin and begin examining her. The little girl begins to whimper and it is gut-wrenching to watch. Erin's burden of guilt grows heavier, and in a moment of agony unlike she has ever faced, Erin knows what she has to do.

The momentary commotion provides the perfect distraction she needs. Erin feels she's no better than her own mother. Lucy and Jay are better off without her. One last glimpse of Lucy's face is all she wants. Only Jay is hovering over her and Erin can't really see her.

Tears blurs her vision and tighten her throat.

She closes her eyes shuts and tucks away her feelings.

And quietly, she turns away and slips out of the room.

Thank you for reading. Your questions and also your concerns are always welcome and most importantly, appreciated.