Erin gently woke up, her eyes adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The warmth of the room enveloped her, and she turned her head to find Jay, his face half-buried in the pillow next to hers. His tousled hair and peaceful expression made her heart flutter.

"Jay?" she whispered, her voice still heavy with sleep. "Is that you?"

Jay stirred, mumbling something unintelligible. Erin leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "Hmmm… Erin?" he mumbled back, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah," Erin replied, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's me. You're such a heavy sleeper."

Jay finally opened his eyes, squinting against the morning light. "What time is it?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"Shh," Erin said, reaching out to touch his forehead. "Don't worry about the time. You're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Jay grinned, his eyes half-lidded. "Sick? I'm not—"

Erin interrupted him. "Jay, your fever is through the roof. You've been tossing and turning all night."

"Maybe I just wanted you to take care of me," Jay teased, closing his eyes again.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Well, you're lucky I'm a good nurse. Let's see…" She pressed her palm against his forehead. "Fever-check mode activated."

Jay chuckled. "Feels nice. You have magic hands, Erin."

"You're delirious," Erin replied softly. "But I'll take the compliment. You need rest, Jay. I'll make some tea for you."

Jay reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Stay with me?"

Erin squeezed his hand. "Always."

Jay slowly drifted into sleep, his eyelids heavy and his breathing steady. The pain in his head seemed to dull as he sank deeper into the soft pillows. His lips moved, forming words in the hazy space between wakefulness and dreams.

"We're gonna be late," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Voight will kill us…"

Erin sat by his side, her fingers tracing patterns on the back of his hand. She knew that Jay's dedication to their work often led them to the brink of exhaustion. But in this quiet moment, as he surrendered to sleep, she vowed to protect him—even if it meant facing the wrath of their no-nonsense boss, Voight.

The room was bathed in gentle morning light, casting a warm glow on their intertwined fingers. Erin leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Jay's forehead. "Rest," she whispered. "I'll handle Voight."

Erin took a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the familiar number. The phone rang twice, and then a gruff voice answered.

"Voight."

"Hank," Erin began, her tone respectful but firm. "It's Erin. Jay's sick, and we won't be able to make it in today."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Voight was known for his no-nonsense attitude, and Erin braced herself for his response.

"Sick?" Voight's voice was like gravel. "What's wrong with him?"

"He has a high fever," Erin explained. "He's in no condition to work."

Another pause. Erin imagined Voight scowling on the other side of the phone. "You better not be lying to me, Erin."

"I'm not," she replied. "Jay needs rest. We'll make up for it when he's better."

Voight grunted. "Fine. But you owe me."

Erin hung up, her heart still racing. She glanced at Jay, who was now sleeping peacefully. She'd face Voight's wrath if she had to—anything to protect the man she loved.

As Erin tiptoed into the dimly lit bedroom, her breath catching as she spotted Jay. The bathroom door was ajar, and a sliver of light spilled out, illuminating the worn tiles. She hesitated, her heart racing. Jay had been so sick, and she hoped he was finally getting some rest.

As she pushed the door open, Erin's gaze fell on Jay, hunched over the sink. His face was pale, and sweat dotted his forehead. The room smelled of disinfectant and desperation. Jay glanced up, his eyes bloodshot but alert.

"Erin," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "I thought you were at work."

She stepped closer, concern etching lines on her forehead. "I told Voight we couldn't make it in today. You need to rest."

Jay nodded weakly, gripping the edge of the sink. "I know. But I hate feeling useless."

Erin reached for a damp washcloth and pressed it to his forehead. "You're not useless," she whispered. "You're my partner, Jay. And right now, you need to focus on getting better."

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing. "I'm lucky to have you," he murmured.

Erin smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll get through this, Jay. Together."

Later, Jay sat up abruptly, his hands cradling his throbbing head. The room spun around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the pain. The headache had been relentless lately, a constant companion that gnawed at his sanity.

Erin stirred beside him, her brow furrowing in concern. "Jay?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

He opened his eyes, meeting her worried gaze. "The damn headache," he muttered. "Feels like a jackhammer in my skull."

Erin swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. "Have you taken anything for it?"

Jay shook his head. "Not yet. I didn't want to wake you."

She handed him the painkillers, her touch gentle. "Take these," she said. "And lie back down. I'll rub your temples."

He did as she instructed, sinking back onto the pillows. Erin's fingers worked magic on his temples, easing the tension.

Erin sighed and gently kissed Jay's temple.

"Your gonna be okay. I got you…" Erin comforted.

Jay was sleeping comfortably in Erin's arms, feelIng her warmth.

.