Happy New Year y'all and thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. They mean so much, and you know I love reading your thoughts about this story. We are going dark but keep the faith, my friends. You know I like my tragic parts with happy Linseride love at the end. The strongest love comes through struggle…
Kelly rushed past the crowd of cops and into Erin's room. Her back was to the door, shoulders shaking. He ran around to the other side, draping his body on her wanting to swallow her and her pain into his.
"Sshhhh, ssshhh, it'll be okay. You're okay," Kelly whispered, knowing from the look in her red rimmed eyes what had happened. Their baby.
"Our baby's gone," Erin cried out, grabbing desperately at Kelly's back almost clawing it.
"Don't say it," Kelly said, pushing the tears he felt coming away. That was the last damn thing she needed to see, he thought as he brushed her hair out of her face.
Intelligence was in the waiting room, no one knowing what to say or do. Antonio couldn't imagine … he was texting Gabby who was currently arguing with her lieutenant to get off shift. Shay sat next to Cailin, both women crying, thinking about different people. Shay knew Kelly would be wrecked, completely wrecked. She also knew he would hold it together for the girl he loved. They would get through this, she thought through a sniffle. They had to.
Cally cursed her nonstop tears, making it next to impossible to text Jeff to get over there. She would never forget Erin's face as they slid the stretcher up the stairs… the hurt, the panic, and most of all, the knowing. The sounds her friend made in the ambo would not be erased from her memory either. And that powerless feeling would never be forgotten. The few times in her life when she was rendered helpless had not resulted in anything good. Always the opposite.
"You're okay. The baby's okay," Cailin had said over and over, whispering it in Erin's ear as she stroked back her sweat soaked hair. All lies, she thought now as she squeezed Shay's hand tighter.
Erin was discharged the next day. How could something be so traumatic and take the life of my baby, but leave me relatively untouched, she thought bitterly, rubbing her hand over her stomach as she changed into jeans.
Kelly's touch startled her and brought more tears to her eyes. He was being typical Kelly, comforting her, telling her he loved her, they would get over this. "We're gonna be okay," he said again, kissing her from behind.
She had to tell him when they got home, reveal the doctor visit and the page of instructions. Tell him that it was her fault. All her fault.
As they walked into their apartment, Erin's eyes went straight to the bag sitting atop the dining room table. She'd been drawn to the baby boutique by the name, Giggles. Inside the small shop, she found herself laughing at the onesies with funny sayings printed on them. There was a whole section with cop and firefighter slogans. She was pretty sure Erin Lindsay translated to 'opposite of T-shirt slogans' in some language, but that day so drawn to the teeny tiny outfits in front of her.
Her eyes welled up further thinking about the six little onesies the bag concealed, four with firefighter slogans, two for Papa Hank. She was going to surprise Kelly at the dating sonogram, knowing he'd love them all. Her favorite was "My daddy's a firefighter. What superpower does your daddy have?" It was perfect. Everything was perfect. That should have been her first clue that something was going to happen, she thought.
"Let me get you in bed," Kelly said taking her heavy coat, grabbing her hand.
Erin didn't protest. She was tired, drained of everything, all emotion, all hope, all life. She prayed she could sleep and get the thought of their baby out of her brain. She knew she wouldn't. Kelly turned on the kettle and Erin couldn't help but smile a little, knowing a cup of tea was coming. Her smile brought tears and those Severide tears Kelly had forced deep down finally came. He held her, burying his face in her hair, afraid to let go. Why? Just some stupid, bad luck, he thought.
Erin looked into Kelly's eyes as he brushed the hair away from her face, cupping her cheeks in his hands. She couldn't say anything tonight. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
"What is this?" Kelly asked holding the yellow legal sheet in a shaking hand. "Tell me this is not what I think it is." He'd headed to Erin's car about 2:00 a.m. looking for his phone, knowing Shay would be waiting for an update. He found it along with the doctor's note.
Erin gave up on trying for any sleep and was heading to the kitchen when hit with what seemed an interrogation. She felt like she'd been ambushed.
"Kelly, sit," she said wearily, wishing she'd told him everything yesterday when they first got home. "I had a little cramping," she admitted, tears coming back. She'd been so certain she had no more tears to give, that she would never cry again. Yet, here they were.
Not your fault. Erin needed to hear those words.
"Why didn't you call me?" Kelly asked, reaching for her hand, afraid of where this was going.
"I didn't want to worry you. I know I should have," Erin admitted. "I saw Dr. Hirota and she said it was normal. She gave me those," she said pointing at the sheet, now crumpled in Kelly's hand. Say it, she willed. Not your fault.
"When?" Doubt about his girl creeping in. Had this been days ago? A week?
"Yesterday, Kelly. Just yesterday. I was heading home when the team called. I went to DePaul for a quick minute. I was heading home," she repeated as Kelly dropped her hand.
Not my fault. That was all Erin needed, to hear those words.
Kelly was up, clutching that damn piece of paper. He threw it in the trash, mumbled "okay," and stormed off to their bedroom, slamming the door. He hit the shower wanting to hit something literally, anything, longing for a locker at 51 to sink his fist into.
No sleep, shoulder on fire, and all hopes of any rest gone, Kelly's head was spinning. It was too much to take in. She'd been put on bed rest, told to go lay down, and what? She went to DePaul University for her freaking job?
As he toweled off, Erin sat on the bed waiting for him. He inhaled harshly… "I can't right now. Not now, give me some time…" he started.
"Kelly, I need you to say it'll be alright. I need you to say you forgive me, that it's not my fault," Erin's voice cracked as a sob threatened to break free.
Severide's eyes narrowed slightly and there was a long pause before he finally said all the things she wanted to hear. The words running together, no real meaning in them. The fog in his brain getting denser with each additional word.
The only thing Erin heard was the almost imperceptible narrowing of those piercing blue eyes. Those eyes spoke to her and said he would never get over this. Over the fault landing squarely on her shoulders.
Days strung together and two weeks hazed by without Kelly or Erin blinking.
Erin desperately wanted to hear him say it was an accident, not her fault. Not her fault. Not her fault. She needed those words. The only words echoing in her brain saying the opposite. Over and over. And Kelly doing nothing to stop the mantra of blame.
They were two ghosts occupying the same space, muttering a few niceties but not really saying anything.
Shay was at Kelly's side at 51… wanting to talk or give him a squeeze. Normally the fireman would push her off not believing a public display of affection lieutenant was what the guys needed or wanted. But lately, he took it, took every hug. He hadn't touched Erin in well over a week. Knew there was something so wrong in that equation but every time he thought about leaning in for a kiss or a simple hand hold, something held him back.
Erin had pushed everyone away at the precinct insisting she was fine, everything was fine. Just fine. Cailin wasn't buying it, seeing the hurt in her friend's eyes in all the stolen seconds she thought she wasn't being looked at. Those silent moments showed her a pain that drove straight through Erin's heart. Talking about feelings was not in either girl's comfort zone, but Cally knew clamming up wasn't going to take that look away. Being with Jeff had taught her that much.
"Girl time tonight. My house. We'll do each other's nails, drink wine, or something stronger," tempted Cailin.
"Nails?" questioned Erin lifting an eyebrow, glancing down at her short nubs that hadn't seen a manicure in years. She knew what her friend was doing. She wanted to say thanks but no thanks, but instead asked, "What time?"
That was too easy, thought the blonde. "Why don't we drop off your car at 51? Then I'll drive us to my place."
"No. Shay's been taking him everywhere. He stays at her place half the time." That last part speaking volumes to Cailin. "I'll pick up a few things and head straight over?"
"Sounds great," answered Cally regretting her choice of words. There was nothing great in any of this. She knew one thing. She needed to get Jeff to contact Kelly, like yesterday. Her guy would need to steer the Severide train back in the station, remind him he loved his wife, remind him that everything would be okay. She thought about the two lieutenants sitting on a couch watching football and drinking beers… in silence. She might have to enlist Casey's help, put him on a job. He was always so much better when he had a task and could get out of that Matt Casey head space for a while. It would be a good excuse to talk to him too, things not really back to normal between the childhood friends.
Erin unloaded. That night she truly found the meaning of the word friend, and what was behind those mystic slumber parties she'd heard about as a child. A little of that Irish whiskey Cailin was so fond of did the trick. It loosened the lips and had Cally feeling like part time therapist by the end of the night.
"He is trying to hurt me because he blames me. Plain and simple. He wants me to hurt, like I don't already hurt enough," intoned Erin as she drained another glass.
"He doesn't know what to do with his grief, Erin. Doesn't know how to talk to you about all this. Severide's not the most vocal of human beings. I'm speaking from one who has the strong, silent type at home," snorted Cally.
"I wish that was it, but I know it's more. He won't even touch me… nothing. He is never getting over this," Erin opened up, to a point she promised herself she wouldn't on the ride over.
Cailin did the best thing she could. She listened.
Getting the words out was what Erin needed.
That night, Erin finally slept. Her blonde friend next to her, breath heavy with alcohol, rhythmic breathing almost rocking her to sleep. Erin dreamt of the beach, the soft comfort of the sand, the spray of water touching her sun-kissed cheeks. It was the familiar beach they visited what seemed like a lifetime ago.
She watched as Kelly broke the waves laughing going deeper, jumping higher. Something is in his hands. It's a young boy, laughing, those same blue eyes squeezing shut. That same smile across his face. The boy is waving at Erin as she watches on shore. He's waving, little hand a blur of back and forth, as father and son go deeper and deeper.
The heart had a way of cocooning around a hurt so great. It would either suffocate or heal. Erin had a choice, go under or come out of it. She awoke knowing she couldn't stay fractured and broken forever. She knew she had to forgive herself even if Kelly never got there. She knew she had to let go. To let go of it all.
Cally encouraged Erin to talk to Kelly, not let one more night go by.
"He'll come around. He loves you," Cailin assured her friend, thinking about what Jeff had said a few nights ago, the topic of the Severides filling their dinner time conversation. Both concerned about their friends.
"He needs time to be pissed," Jeff rationalized.
"He's had time. He needs to tell her he loves her and that they'll be okay. He hasn't even been sleeping at home," Cally imparted.
"Don't need to hear all that, babe. And there's not a timetable for grief. We both know that. He'll come around."
"He better," she said. "Or I'll have to kick his ass," she added.
Now, watching Erin pull away from her house, she hoped they would settle it tonight. Argue, fight, scream, cry, whatever needed to go down, she hoped it would happen. Then they could begin the road to recovery, back to each other.
When Kelly dragged in after shift, he'd already been text arguing with his wife. He wanted to crash at Shay's, said they'd talk tomorrow. It was killing him to be apart from Erin, but killing him to be with her. Kelly had never felt so dead inside.
Erin was not taking crashing at Shay's as an option. She made dinner, she needed him home.
He wasn't hungry, moving around his food more than eating any of it. Erin tried to get him to open up only to be shut down every time.
"Kelly, talk to me. Tell me you're mad at me, you blame me, hell, you hate me. Something," she tried, her voice in that area just shy of yelling.
"Got nothin' to say. There's no way we can go back. It makes no difference now, doesn't change a damn thing," he answered refusing to engage.
Kelly got up, dumped his food into the trash and headed to the shower, demonstrating that Jeff Clarke was right. No timetable on that grief.
The next day Severide felt better, the muscle relaxants Shay gave him doing the trick. He knew he'd been an ass last night, really for the past two weeks. Instead of reaching for the brunette he loved, he pushed her away, ignoring her in favor of obsessing over that legal sheet of instructions. Thinking of all the what ifs. The nagging pain in his neck playing its own role in the great divide between the couple.
Time to talk to her, he told himself rolling out of his empty bed. If he even knew how to do that anymore.
He wandered through the kitchen, the silence indicating an empty condo.
Went to work.
That was all the note said. But it was enough.
Erin was still tying up loose ends with the DePaul drug case … it was all but over with a drug dealing professor shut down. He was cutting any and every deal he could to avoid some inevitable jail time. Giving up all the names he'd heard with his new startup, most insignificant low level players. But the IU team had to look into every one.
The team was off but Erin headed in figuring she'd cross a few more of those names off the list. Ruzek was in too, apparently having relationship problems of his own.
"I would really like a little silence today, Adam. You think you can handle that?" asked Erin as they piled into his car.
That was the young cop's signal to start talking.
Erin and Ruzek pulled into their last stop for the day. It was a tiny shack of a house that did not say high level drug lord.
"Jesus. Ten bucks says crack whore givin' a tuggy for a hit," Adam said reluctantly getting out of the car, knowing this was a dead end.
"You do know I'm not Halstead or Olinsky, right?" asked Erin shaking her head, joining him on the cracked walkway overgrown with weeds.
"Uh, sorry, forget you're a girl sometimes," Ruzek admitted. "Uh, in a good way. Like you do your job so well…" he stammered.
"So well that I couldn't be a woman?" questioned Erin, stopping before they reached the door.
"I'll just shut up now," Adam said smiling, holding the torn screen door for Erin.
She laughed hoarsely, appreciating her partner for the day. His non-stop illuminations on life had been a distraction she needed after the talk that didn't happen with her husband, him freezing her out again. She'd gone to bed mad and woken up furious.
Wallowing in sadness shifting to an anger, a building resentment directed at a husband who'd been so angry with her.
Erin rapped on the wooden door with the peeling paint.
"Looks like no one's here. Let's bounce," Adam said turning back to the car.
"Slow your roll," Erin laughed again. "I hear something inside."
The sound of a TV blaring distinctly rang out.
"Aahhh, Lindsay," he groaned wanting to ditch this place.
Erin knocked louder telling herself she would not be breaking down that door. Adam would have to prove his worth.
Right before his foot met the wood, the door creaked open a crack with a big, brown eye peering out.
"Hey, honey," Erin said kneeling down, meeting that eye on its level. "Is your mommy home?"
"No," came a little voice, hard to tell if it was boy or girl.
Lindsay pulled out her badge, holding it up to the crack. "Will you let us in, sweetie, and we'll wait for her to come back? The door creaked all the way open and Erin was unprepared for what smacked her in the face. The filth, the smells… it was a scene the two cops would not soon forget.
Erin dragged in as late as Kelly from a shift. Her couple of hours turned into an all day excursion in paperwork and frustration.
The big, brown eyes had been attached to a little boy living in conditions not suitable for the cockroaches scurrying about the place. Erin thought Ruzek was going to toss the four kolaches he downed for breakfast when he tried to pour the kid a bowl of cereal and three brown, unidentifiable bugs came crawling out with the Lucky Charms. He made a quick run for burgers and fries, sitting on the disgusting couch to pig out with the little one who was obviously starved for more than food. The boys laughed at the same time with Adam questioning him gently during each commercial. His name was Javier, he was seven and couldn't say when his mom had last been home or when she was coming back. A neighbor, "Miss Sadie", brought dinner for him every night.
Child Protective Services said they'd schedule a home visit, but that wasn't going to be good enough for either cop. Lindsay used the Hank Voight card to get results… his fingertips in almost every branch of the system. This was abandonment, plain and simple. It took all day and into the night to get Javier into the system, but eventually he was shuttled off to spend the night with a foster couple.
"That sucked," said Adam as they made their way back up to IU. "Some people should not have kids. They don't take care of 'em, don't love 'em, but they keep poppin' 'em out." He snapped his mouth shut as soon as the words left. "Uh, sorry Lindsay," he muttered, head down, the baby she just lost flooding back into his mind.
"No, I somewhat agree with you. Although I wouldn't be here, now would I?" she slugged him in the arm. "You did good today," she added, dimpled grin on her face.
"I did?" he asked, puppy dog look in his eyes.
"You did," she confirmed, patting him on the head.
Now, walking into her condo, the silence, the cleanliness, the yummy smell of something in the oven contrasted sharply with the dump they were in for half a day, the dump that little boy lived in every day.
Went to bed. Dinner in the oven.
The note to match her note. Tit for tat.
She pulled out the warm plate of roasted chicken and potatoes and sat at the dining room table eating alone. Kelly was in the bedroom … her husband fast asleep in just the next room over, but she was alone, all alone.
Another week in the couple's lives marked off, another wasted seven days of not talking. Kelly had opened the door to communicating but Erin had been knocking for too long.
He came in from a run cursing himself at thinking it would somehow loosen up the neck. He grabbed some water watching his wife work at the dining room table. She was looking at some files, hair in a ponytail, the sweatshirt and running pants she donned giving her the appearance of a kid. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, with Erin pulling away as if he'd just slapped her. The hurt of the past few weeks hanging over the apartment heavily. There would be no kiss in return, no hug, nothing.
He had punished her long enough. So now, she's punishing me, he thought.
Erin was mad as hell. Mad at herself, mad at what happened, even mad at God. But none if it touched how mad at Kelly she was.
She heard his groans throughout the night, but didn't reach over to him, offer an ice pack. She grabbed her pillow and moved to the couch around 2:00. Kelly woke up knowing he was about as close to invisible as he could get.
Severide's neck was killing him, the pain screaming at him to do something, scream, cry, go to Chicago Med, call Shay. Do something. He was living in the land of denial, telling himself the minute he couldn't do his job, he would get it checked out. Shay knew something was up with her best friend but she was living in the land of love. Holly was almost a permanent fixture at her house and the more Leslie discovered about the redhead, the more she loved. For the first time in her life at 51, Kelly wasn't the blonde's first priority. It felt strange, foreign, but also somehow right. Leslie Shay figured she was finally growing up.
Erin barely glanced up as Kelly heaved himself into the apartment after another shift. He threw his bag on the floor, grunting at the release of the weight. Erin didn't look up again.
"Rough shift," Kelly said making his way slowly to Erin, sitting on the floor, papers spread all over the living room this time..
"Me too," she said tersely. "Oh and we have a guest tonight. He's in the spare bedroom."
Kelly's quizzical look was met with silence. He figured it was a drunken Ruzek, maybe Antonio who wasn't handling the single life very well. Join the club, he thought, peeking into the darkened bedroom. The side lamp was on low, illuminating the face of a little boy. Black hair, olive skin, the boy was on top of the covers in a deep sleep holding the second pillow like a teddy bear.
"Erin, what the hell's a kid doing in our house?" asked Kelly going back out to the living room.
Erin sighed barely tolerating the question. She wanted to talk for over a month, and this was it? She rattled off the first encounter with Javier, how he'd been put in foster care.
"Ruzek and I did a drive by on the house we found him at and he was back. Do you believe that? They put him back there?" she asked shaking her head.
"They must've decided things improved. Maybe the mom was makin' an effort."
Erin looked at her husband like he was about the daftest person on the planet. "You did not see that place and no, nothing had improved. It's one night. Do you think you can handle that?"
Kelly didn't answer, instead snatching a bottle of water from the fridge. Holly had come through with a prescription of something stronger than ibuprofen. With it came a lecture about getting his shoulder checked out, he might need PT, and the final word that it came with no refills. He popped three hoping they would do the trick and he could manage more than a couple hours of sleep.
The next morning, Erin was drifting like a balloon, in that perfect place between dreams and actual waking. It was some of the best sleep she'd had in weeks. The first rays of sunlight were slanting through blinds, breaking her spell, hitting her in the face. She reached to the other side of the bed and her fingers curled around emptiness. Kelly was already gone. She sighed heavily and got up to make a big breakfast. A huge, eggs, bacon and whatever else her houseguest wanted breakfast.
I know, I know, this whole mad at each other thing is infuriating and sad. How will they ever make it back to each other? Leave me your thoughts.
I'll update soon now that A Very Chicago Fire Christmas is winding down. We've got a big New Year's Eve party update to finish. Go check it out if you need some sweet Linseride fluff. And again, thanks for sticking with this one even in its darkest hour.