Violence is often highly emotional and impulsive, those were Milah's words to him. And ironically enough, the violence inflicted upon her was rash, extreme and highly emotional.
Face unrecognizable. From the bruising, the blood, the damage to her face, the coroner believes what killed her was blunt force trauma. From the treadmarks, and indents to her flesh, the coroner believes whoever killed her literally bashed her face in with the bottom of their boot. She had been stabbed first, but it was a chance that she could have survived, but based on her skull, based on the bruising on her body, someone had to be filled with rage, consumed by it to inflict this much, this type of damage. And Jay remembered leaving the coroner's office questioning if the person responsible is truly done or if Milah is the first of many.
It's been two weeks since Milah's death, Jay would be having a therapy appointment later this evening if she wasn't killed. Yet he's stuck in limbo. He needs to talk to someone but it feels like a betrayal to hire another therapist when Milah was just buried yesterday and her killer is still free. It hurts, a searing ache in the pit of his heart, straining so intensely making him feel a heart attack is imminent. He sits by the phone, waiting for the call to come through from the DA with, what he hopes to be good news, about their warrant being granted. This is their second attempt, and unfortunately, it had been stalled by the therapy practice of all entities, citing the harmful impact it could have to their current clients, but Jay doesn't get it, the owner of the practice had been brutally murdered, wouldn't they want to know who did it? Do they not fear for their own safety? What if they came back? Wouldn't they want the person responsible to be caught?
"It's not about that," he remembers Dennis, one of the clinicians saying, "we have an ethical responsibility to do what we can to uphold confidentiality. We owe it to our current clients to do what we can to maintain their anonymity. If we push back and the warrant is still granted, we'll happily hand over all the information you want, but for our ethics, we at least have to try."
First attempt at getting a warrant was a massive failure because the judge wanted more probable cause to reasonably justify breaking the confidentiality that bonds a client and therapist. Jay knows a third times a charm but he really hopes it doesn't get to that. He needs that warrant now, they've exhausted all leads. He went to her funeral. Jay looked into her teenage son's watery eyes to give his condolences, watched the boy's shoulders tremble when he sobbed over his mom's closed casket. The damage to her face was too much to even entertain it being opened. His dad had an unsuccessful attempt at consoling his son, obviously showing that the physical distance of living states apart reflected in the current emotional separation between them. Jay was supported by Erin, absolutely appreciative to her and her parents for watching Emma as they dressed in all black to attend Milah's funeral. The amount of people that filled the church tells him how loved she was, she was a good person at work and outside of it. Jay was refueled, he wanted to catch the boy's mom's killer before he left town, but that was just another failure on his part. He's collecting those like infinity stones. With Milah's driver's license photo attached to the evidence board, he's constantly reminded about her death, the manner in which she died and the fact that it's still unsolved and they have no suspects in mind. Not one. The interrogation room is collecting dust as it waits for them to bring someone in to question.
Sitting around, waiting for a call, did not make time go by faster. Staring at the phone did not make it ring. He decides to distract himself, grabbing his phone off the charger, Halstead presses play on the video, the giggles of the baby filling his ears along with the sound of Erin encouraging her to do it again. What is it? He doesn't know yet. He hears her hopeful tone, practically pleading for Emma to do it again, "Roll over for daddy." Ah, that's what it is, that's what she's referring to, and he holds his breath as he watches the baby rock side to side on her back before pushing herself over, landing onto her tummy and giving her mom a gummy smile when Erin cheers. The video ends a second later, but he just has to watch it again.
He watches it a second time.
And then a third time, and that's when the guilt sets in. He's missed such a major milestone because he's at work, he's at the job he's worked so hard for, the job he's lost and managed to get back and all he wants to be is with Erin and Emma. But, he also wants no, he needs to be here. His baby girl officially became four months old yesterday, her final weeks as a three month old baby being scarred by Milah's death, he hopes to wrap this up so her November doesn't look the same. She deserves better, she deserves more. He thinks of Milah's son, and the physical awkwardness between him and his father, showcasing how the distance between them spanned not just from them living states away from each other, but to their comfort level. He doesn't want that with Emma, he doesn't want to even entertain the thought of him and Emma becoming like father and son. He'd happily leave his job before it ever got to a point where he and Emma felt physically separated from one another. He struggled living in another home from his daughter, he couldn't imagine living in a different state than her.
He watches the video a fourth time, this time lowering the volume when the bullpen fills up with the rest of the team. He doesn't want them to hear. He wants to keep the moment private. He watches it for a fifth time after throwing out a pathetic excuse of needing to use the bathroom. He escapes, watching it a sixth time before biting the bullet and calling Erin through Facetime. It's pretty early but fortunately for him she's up.
"Good morning, Jay," her face fills the screen. He can see the exhaustion around her eyes but the smile on her face lets him know that regardless of her need to sleep, she's happy, "I hope you got more rest than I did. I don't know what month four has in store for us but I think she's slowly but surely coming into her personality and she's going to be a firecracker, catch up on as much sleep as you can because November is about to take us on a wild ride," despite her exhaustion, she jokes, hoping to get him to laugh, but he doesn't even smile.
"She rolled over," he whispers, suppressing his enthusiasm and doing a poor job of it when he watches Erin cover her mouth with her hand and nod eagerly, "tell me about it. Please."
And that's how he spends the next few minutes until Ruzek bursts through the door, a paper waving in his hand that was recently faxed over from the DA's office, "We got it, we got it," he chants, "the warrant," he adds as an afterthought just in case he wasn't clear. Erin doesn't bother to wait for Jay to bid her farewell, she silently taps out of the call and hangs up. She knows the next few hours will be busy for them. They'll collect the files and then have to sort through and read every last one of them. Erin hates to say it, nevertheless, think it but she hopes one of her clients is the killer. It's a sad thought to have, a betrayal to the max, but pillowtalk consisted of Jay telling her that if it's not a client, they have no other leads, her family, coworkers and friends are alibied and cleared. It has to be a client otherwise the case will more than likely run cold. And that cannot happen. He made a promise to her son before he officially left for Kentucky.
"We reached out to Victoria," Ruzek says, leading Jay back into the bullpen, "she's made copies in preparation for it and is on her way to drop them off." Thanks Victoria, Jay couldn't help but to think. He knows she isn't licensed and bound by ethics so her opinion on breaching confidentiality is different from the therapists at the practice.
Jay rolls out his seat and flops back down, pulling his phone back out to pass the time until the files get here. He wished Victoria had lights and sirens. He honestly wouldn't mind her breaking traffic laws, he'd bail her out, pay the ticket, hell, he'd represent her in court, he just needs her here right now. His phone pings, and while he assumed it would be Erin -he really doesn't get texts from anyone besides her and his colleagues- he found himself surprised to see Will's name light up the screen. It had been a few weeks since he last reached out, but here he is, reaching out again, hey Jay, I hope this isn't a bad time, I had a really rough shift. I was hoping you could send me a picture or video of Emma, it would really make my day. Thanks.
It still boggles his mind the 180 his brother did after Emma got here. They say babies do not repair relationships, well they obviously haven't examined his relationship with his brother because the level of asshole Will Halstead is and was has been astronomical since he was born, and now the impossible happened and that's him initiating a decent conversation with him, a conversation where he isn't called out of his name, insulted, ridiculed or made to feel like a failure. He didn't get to work through his family relationships with Milah, she died before they fully explored that. He's lost here, but he does choose to follow his gut. He sends Will the video that Erin had just sent to him, the one of Emma rolling over, hoping the video brings his brother as much joy as it did him. And when a few seconds later, Will reacts to the text with a heart, Jay knows it did. Maybe if things keep up, Jay can invite Will down for Thanksgiving to officially meet Emma? He's still nervous, the pit at the bottom of his stomach rolling over at the thought but if he doesn't try, how would he know? He taps over to Erin's name, posing a question in text, What do you think about me inviting Will to Thanksgiving dinner?
Erin drags her feet inside, dropping everything in her arms when her phone buzzes in her pocket. She had ordered groceries, and they arrived a few minutes before the text. She only manages to put the ice cream away because that's necessary, then she drops to the couch to check her phone. The smile on her face is bright, it's radiant as she reads his text. Whether he realizes it or not, he's growing, he's healing. I think that's a good idea, she sends and then adds a second thought, though we haven't discussed Thanksgiving plans, I have no plans to cook.
I just figured we were going over your parents.
Are you okay with that? I didn't want to assume you'd be comfortable cracking open a beer, watching football and celebrating the holiday within feet of my dad?
We're adults. Emma deserves to celebrate with her whole family.
I love you, she naturally types it out, then the realization sets in and she backspaces. A hand covers her heart to settle the mild panic at almost just casually throwing out such a sentiment. She doesn't think it would mean anything more than just a reflection of appreciation for him putting his discomfort to the side in order to put her and Emma first, willing to spend an entire evening in her dad's presence just so they can be happy, no wonder she almost slipped up.
Her phone rings, half expecting it to be Jay, but when she hears the voice of her best friend fill her ears, she chuckles, "Did you watch the video?"
"Of course! I literally drop everything I'm doing when I get Emma updates."
Erin doesn't know if she's being a smartass, but she bypasses it, "I keep telling you, she's pretty advanced. What four month old do you know that's rolling over?"
"…according to Google, a lot."
"You're such a hater."
"...only with you," Kim makes a kissy face on the other end, "I'll be the head cheerleader when it comes to Little E. Anyway, I was calling to see what time you were coming in?"
Erin checks the time on her phone, reminding herself just how early it currently is, "Um, probably in an hour or two, I don't have any drop-ins to do so I'll be in the office all day today."
"Lucky," Kim grunts, "I have two scheduled drop-ins towards the end of the workday and I have a supervised visitation to attend, dad can only see the kid if it's supervised."
"How long is the visitation?"
"...an hour."
"That's not long at all."
"For the dad no, but for me yes it is."
Erin sets her phone on speaker and secures it under her bra strap so she can resume putting the groceries away. They fill the space with small talk, nonsensical discussion, office gossip and updates, nothing truly of importance yet it's a vital component of their workday mornings. Once the last item is placed in the pantry and the shopping bags are shoved into a larger shopping bag, she drags herself out of the kitchen and face plants onto the couch, flopping down absolutely exhausted, "You sound like you need some coffee? I'm picking up some on my way in from the Starbucks down the street from the office. Do you want your usual drink?"
"Please," it's muffled by the couch cushion.
"I'm sorry, can you say that again?"
Erin turns her head, removing her face from the cushion to repeat herself, "Yes, please." She knows laying like this is a recipe for disaster. It'll potentially lead her to dozing off and probably waking up late to head off to work. She pushes herself up, drawing her legs onto the couch to cross them, "can you also get me a blueberry muffin? I'm hungry."
"You know Starbucks isn't cheap, I'm only saying yes because I assume you're saving for Little E's college fund and at the rate of inflation, you'll have to sell a kidney for her to attend."
She looks down at her hands, sitting on top of her crossed legs. She reflects over the last 48 hours. Her date night coincidentally being the night that Milah was killed. Erin couldn't help but think to herself, what are the chances? Seriously though. She and Jay had been tiptoeing around each other, perfecting their co-parenting and roommate relationship, only for the day they finally decide to throw caution to the wind and be together, both in mind and body, his therapist is killed. A concern grows in the pit of her stomach, and she looks to her phone to see Kim still on it, "Did you know Milah died the night of my first date with Jay?"
"I mean, I didn't think about the two things long enough to really pay attention to the timing."
"Do you think it's a sign?"
"Oh, don't you go there. No, I do not think it's a sign. Nope. Not at all. They have nothing to do with each other. You deserve to be happy and while it's unfortunate that she was killed, that has nothing to do with you and Jay getting together. Those are two completely different situations that just so happened to occur on the same day, so stop that train of thought before it makes you do something you'll later regret. And as your best friend, it is my job to make sure you don't do anything dumb and if you keep thinking like that, I know you well enough to know you're going to do something absolutely foolish, empty-headed and stupid."
"Wow," Erin blinks. Shocked. Surprised, "tell me how you really feel," she remarks.
"I'm serious Erin. This is good. The two of you are good together. If you could only see the way Jay looks at you Er, things are still new with me and Adam but if he ever looks at me the way Jay looks at you, I know I'd have found a good one. Trust me on this. This is good."
She feels almost as if Kim had been waiting and ready for her to question things. She had no intention of breaking things off with Jay, far from it, if anything, she considered taking things slower but with Kim's point being so adamantly spoken, she changed her mind without any pushback, "Okay," she breathed, nodding to herself. Her gaze drifts to the floor, to the baby lying in front of her, the little girl laying on her belly, the blanket beneath her offering a cushion that protects her from the hardened carpeted floor. She smiles at her baby, noting the frown lines on her forehead, dimples piercing her cheeks as she focuses on trying to roll over. She's done it before but she still hasn't perfected it. Each time she's done it so far has her fretting out of frustration, and sometimes that frustration leads to tears but Emma manages to power through, "I'm uh, I'm going to go, I want to spend a little one on one time with the baby before my mom gets here and I have to leave," she doesn't give her friend much time to respond.
Kim can only say, "okay but don't think too hard about this," before both of them are hanging up. It was bright and early on a middle of the week morning, too early probably for the birds to even be up yet here she is laying on her own belly as she watches Emma fret and squirm.
"Kid," Erin lays her hand gently against Emma's back, coaching and encouraging her to roll, "it's been a hell of a few weeks," the baby obviously isn't listening, instead the drool from a tooth struggling to pierce her gums coats her chin and bib, "and you've been soldiering through with us, being so good and so smart," she presses a kiss against Emma's ear before leaving her side. Once Erin is on her feet, Emma has managed to roll over to her back, kicking her legs and waving her arms in the air, excitedly babbling at the change in view.
Erin leaves her to herself, disappearing into her bedroom momentarily to grab her charger. She's going to need to bring it to work because she forgot to charge up her phone last night. By the time she returns to the living room, Emma is back on her tummy, obviously had rolled back over and kicked her legs out as if it'll help her move forward. One baby is content, and Erin lifts her head to scan the room in search of her other baby, and upon landing on her German Shepherd, her eyes widen in alarm, "Milo, no!" Erin scolded, her lips part in silent surprise and her face stricken in disbelief as she stared at the mess of cotton and purple fabric torn to shreds, "that's a bad boy!" Milo chewed up the stuffed octopus that Abby had gotten for Emma. Her dog doesn't even have the decency to look reprimanded, he even has the nerve to grip the face of the octopus with his canine teeth and shake his head, side to side, wildly, causing more of the cotton to fly out and scatter around him. The cotton falls like snow.
Erin would be the first to admit that she hated that stuffed animal, but she told Jay she'd keep it, she acquiesced to hold it at least until Emma was old enough to tell her to get rid of it. She was trying to be a team player and her dog ripping up the one and only gift her daughter received from her dad's ex was not giving her a good start. Her phone is in the room, and she tells herself before cleaning it up to take a picture of it and allow that to be used as proof as to why she had to throw it out, otherwise he probably wouldn't believe her, which she couldn't fault him for considering how much she was creeped out by that thing. But, the toy wasn't for her, it was a gift to Emma and it should have been left up to Emma whether to keep it or not.
"Milo, stop, that's enough," she's torn out of her gaze when a piece of cotton hits her in the face. She sees him still tearing into the head of the octopus, growling as his canine teeth dug even deeper and she can't help but wonder what this octopus has ever done to him. From what she has witnessed, this stuffed animal has provided Milo with plenty of comfy naps, but her little guy is determined to put an end to it, -to his comfy naps on the octopus and the actual stuffed animal. She grips the part of his head not being currently demolished and she yanks, only for Milo to tug back, probably thinking it's a game. She pulls again before ordering, "let it go now," and he listens, he opens his mouth and both she and the octopus head go falling backwards.
She lands on her back; her head fortunately being cushioned by one of the octopus's tentacles and the cotton spilling from it. She remains laying there, sighing and spitting some of the falling cotton out of her mouth. It's so much cotton everywhere, which shouldn't surprise her considering how big this stuffed animal was, but seriously, the amount of cotton in that thing has her wondering about the supply of cotton worldwide. Erin's suddenly snapped out of that unproductive train of thought that would inevitably lead her nowhere when Milo starts whimpering and licking the side of her face, apologetically. He knows he's in trouble and he's trying to play offense and score points with her. She raises her hand and pats the fur between his ears, "I hated that thing too Milo but that's not what we do to things we hate," she sighs and sits up, glancing over to the clock to see how much time she has left to clean up and finish getting ready for work before her mother arrived. It's not much time left at all, which means she has less time to lecture her dog and decides to jump right into the cleaning, only to find herself distracted when in the inner eye of the octopus, a shiny beam reflects off the lighting hanging overhead. Sitting up and leaning her back against the wall, she clears out more of the cotton, ripping it out of its head and discarding it around her, adding to the pool of cotton. She digs her hand further into his head, and Milo finds himself now distracted by tearing into one of the tentacles. She lets him have it, not bothering to stop him since they're both now ripping the animal to shreds. And just as Milo tears his head away, wires displayed in his mouth, her hand captures the source of the beam, carefully pulling it out to see it's a camera lens, disguised as an eyeball that was nearly hidden in the mangled face of what was once a stuffed purple octopus. She moves the camera to her face to take a look, and on Abby's side of the city, their eyes meet.
Abby stops breathing the second she's looking into the direct gaze of Erin. Her hand twitches. Her body stiffens in rigid terror. And she knows she should immediately disconnect the server from her laptop, she should shut it off and dispose of every connection the link has to her but she's too curious to put it away. Instead, she watches, the both of them practically looking into each other's eyes through the lens of a camera connecting them despite them physically being miles away from each other. Slowly, but not so steadily if her shaking hands are anything to go by, Erin sets the camera face down in the pile of cotton. And in that moment Abby loses connection. She knows it's only a matter of time before she's busted, before it all comes crumbling around her and she won't be able to explain her way out of this. She knows it'll lead to Jay ending things for good and never wanting to speak to her again. It'll lead to the end of her world and she didn't come this far for her life to end. She didn't take a life only for things to end like this, it'd be a waste, the nightmares she's had of killing Milah would all be for naught because fucking Erin had to ruin things. Fucking Erin had to screw with fate, with the destiny laid out before all of them, and now Abby has to step in and clean up the pieces to set life back on the path it was meant to be on. She's angry because she is unprepared. She's pissed off because this plan is once again being derailed. Her eyes narrow and the muscles in her jaw flicker irately, her heart rate increases and she can feel the panic start to sweep over her like a wave ready to wipe her out. Her timetable moved up, she wasn't ready but the choice was out of her hands. She has to move. Now. And fast.