Erin came back from the door and placed the pizza box on the table, her movements deliberate, but he could see her hands still trembling slightly. She walked to the fridge and got a couple of beers before taking her place. She didn't look back at him as she opened the box and grabbed a slice, silently putting one on a plate for him.
She was trying not to think about what had just happened between them. It felt so good to have his arms around her again. But that was not why she invited him over. She had made a promise, not only to him but to herself.
Seeing him so lost and confused, as much as she wanted to throw herself into his arms again, she didn't want to take advantage of the moment. She still wasn't convinced that she knew where he really stood with Hailey. And she wouldn't get in the middle of them. Not while he seemed so fragile. Besides, the thought of him being with her and regretting later was just too much for her to handle. She knew it would destroy her. She really wanted to make sure that he was going to be alright.
She always had this protective instinct towards him. Even when they were just partners. She thought about that one night back in Chicago when he asked her if he could crash at her place. He had a target on his head and his apartment had been tossed.
She remembered the teasing tone between them at the bar. She covered up a pang of jealousy while asking if he had been sleeping with the waitress. She saw the way the girl was looking at him and he kind of confessed, saying that they'd been together once to play Scrabble. She shook her head slightly remembering it. She could still picture the smirk on his face when she asked him if he would try to play Scrabble with her too if she let him sleep in her apartment. And then he teased her, saying that he would be a perfect gentleman.
They were having a nice moment when she saw a man enter the bar with a gun pointed at him. She didn't have time to think or to blink, she just threw herself in his direction pushing him down to the floor, avoiding him from being shot. The girl from the bar was not so lucky. She was hit and almost lost her life.
That was the first night that they had slept together. Well, kinda. Initially she was in her bedroom while he was on the couch. It was the first time she really realized that there was something more between them. She couldn't make herself sleep thinking about him in her living room. For the first time she admitted to herself that her body was indeed burning inside for him. But she forced herself to keep her distance. She told herself that it was a bad idea, that he was her partner, but her body was pushing her in the wrong direction. That was when everything changed. She heard noises coming from the living room and she jumped off from her bed in a hurry to see what was going on.
The scene broke her heart. He was tossing and turning having what could only be a terrible nightmare. He looked like a scared boy about to cry. Her urge to protect him kicked in hard. She had no idea of what she was dealing with. She didn't know from who or from what but she knew she had to protect him. And just like that, the attraction she was feeling for him in her bedroom alone gave place to something a lot more tender. She spent the whole night after that soothing him back to sleep. Curled together on the couch.
And even though nothing really happened between them, that night changed everything. It was the first night she realized that what she felt for him went way beyond just friendship. It was new to her. It was scary. She tried to shove it down but it was undeniable.
She spent weeks after that day trying to help him get over his guilt. That girl was shot with a bullet that had been meant for him and that really undid him. But she was there—by his side, helping and supporting him as much as he allowed her to do it. And she faced that same feeling over and over again after that night. The need to shield him from any pain.
She knew he had the same urge to protect her. Sometimes even a little too much. They had several arguments before, when she accused him of being overprotective without admitting that she was just as protective herself.
Why was she thinking back about that night? Because it was exactly the same feeling in her chest. She was placing her own needs and desires aside. All she cared about was to make sure that he was going to be ok. She took a quick glance at him, wondering why he was still not joining her.
For a moment, he thought about staying on the couch, to give her the space she seemed to need. She looked so distracted. Really lost in her thoughts. He could see the sadness and hurt in her posture. He just hated to see her like that.
"It's going to get cold, Jay," she called, without looking at him.
He got up and walked over, sliding into the chair across from her.
"You ok?" he asked softly.
She looked at him and a small, tentative smile crept onto the corners of her lips as she nodded.
They started to eat quietly. It looked like she was forcing herself to focus on her food. He sighed watching her looking so intently at that slice of pizza, as if it had all the answers. And still, she was barely taking a few bites. He wasn't much better—he was hungry, but his thoughts and emotions made it hard to swallow.
Every now and then, her eyes would flicker to him, to check if he was still there. But she didn't know what to say. She had a meltdown for the second time already and she wasn't feeling too good about it.
He finally broke the silence. "I didn't expect this."
She looked up, her brows knit together. "Didn't expect what?"
"This. You… still caring."
Erin scoffed softly, shaking her head and shrugging. "Jay, I never stopped."
Her words hit him deeply. She said it simply, matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it just was. Maybe he had just been too blind to see it.
"Let's eat," she said, trying to press a pause button on the emotional rollercoaster they were on.
Jay nodded, but his eyes told her they weren't done—not by a long shot. He let it go, though, for now. They both needed a break.
She gestured toward the fridge when she saw him taking the last sips of his beer. He walked over and glanced back at her bottle.
"I'm good…," she had barely drunk anything. "Actually… could you get me a glass of water, please? With some ice?"
"Sure," he said, looking puzzled. Erin was giving up beer for water? He used to have to remind her all day long to drink some water. Yet another subtle change.
He placed the glass of water in front of her, and switched the beer bottles, giving her the colder one, and drinking the one she had barely touched.
She smiled at the little gesture, taking a couple of sips before switching to the water.
"So… New York pizza, huh?" she asked, taking a bigger bite, as if to encourage him to eat too.
He chuckled lightly, grateful for the change of subject. "It's… different. Not bad, though. I guess I could get used to it."
"I like how crispy it is," she offered, nibbling at the edge of her slice.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but it's no deep dish. Let's be real."
She laughed, so unguarded, that for a moment, the heaviness lifted. "Ok, fair point. I do miss deep dish. But do you remember the food coma after eating it? That thing is a full-time commitment."
"That's the charm!" he grinned. "A slice of deep dish can feed you for like three days. This? It's a snack."
"Hey! Watch your words. New Yorkers take their pizza very seriously," she teased, pointing her slice at him.
"Hhmm… so… You're a New Yorker now!?" He protested.
She just shrugged and smiled, making his heart melt at the sight of her dimples.
"Ok… Noted," he said with a smirk. "I'll tread lightly in enemy territory."
Talking about pizza was so easy. Felt like they were back to the old days. When they would just laugh with each other for hours.
After they finished eating, Jay stood and gathered their plates, loading them into the dishwasher like he'd done it hundreds of times before. He was already feeling at home.
"You're not pregnant or anything like that, are you?"
"W-hat?" she asked, stunned, both by how unexpected the question was but also to his audacity.
He shrugged with a smirk, raising to his mouth the other bottle of beer she had abandoned.
She rolled her eyes, chuckling… "No, smartass… I am not pregnant… I am just… cutting down a bit." She was not ready to tell him why though.
Last I checked, it was not possible to get pregnant by myself… she thought while shaking her head and rolling her eyes again.
She walked away from the table and retreated to the couch, curling up into the corner with her legs tucked under her.
When he joined her again, the pillow that had previously acted as a barrier was visibly absent. She didn't say anything, but the unspoken gesture was clear.
He sat down beside her, closer this time, their shoulders nearly brushing. He could feel her gaze on him, expectant but patient. She was waiting for him to start talking again.
"Okay," he said with a soft exhale, breaking the silence. "Where were we?"
Erin's gaze softened as she looked at him. "Intelligence… and why you really felt like your only option was to quit."
He dragged his hands through his hair, frustrated, and when he finally spoke, he sounded tired, almost defeated.
"It wasn't just one mistake," he said slowly. "It wasn't just one bad day or one wrong call. It's…" He trailed off for a moment, staring at the floor. "It's been a pattern. An endless cycle. I feel like I'm stuck in quicksand and I just can't get out."
Erin watched him closely, trying to understand. She'd seen him upset before—angry, hurt, frustrated—but this was just so much deeper, like he was pulling it up from a place he rarely let anyone see.
She didn't say anything. She knew he needed to get this off of his chest first.
Jay shifted before starting again. "We've been crossing the lines so much that I feel like I don't even know where they are anymore. I never wanted to be this kind of cop. And Hank and I—" he shook his head. "It's been bad for a long time. I respect him a lot, you know I do. I know somehow he is good for the city. I get it. But fuck… we've been at each other's throats so many times I've lost count. Damn, Er. How many times has he kicked me off the team? How many times has he threatened me? For questioning him, for standing up to him, for trying to do the right thing?"
"He never actually kicked you out, Jay," she said carefully so he would not think that she was trying to challenge him.
Jay's head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. "You know he did," he said, his voice quieter now. "Maybe not permanently, but he's benched me, suspended me, sent me packing more times than I can count. And let's not even start on the times he almost did just because of us."
His voice caught as he continued, "When we started to get together, or when we…" he trailed off, hesitating to say it out loud. "…broke up," he finally muttered. He didn't want to relive it, but she knew what he meant. "And after you left, things got just so much worse between us… It was always this… thing, hanging over my head. Like I was one step away from being gone for good."
She tried to keep her voice calm, grounding him. "But he never followed through, Jay. He always brought you back."
Jay huffed out a dry laugh, his head tilting up toward the ceiling. "Yeah, he brought me back. But not because he trusted me. Not because he thought I was making the right call. I don't even know why sometimes."
She shook her head, her tone firm now. "Of course you know why."
"Because of you?" he asked, the words cutting and fast. His voice hardened as he turned fully toward her. "You're telling me the only reason he didn't fire me is because of you?"
"What!? NO!" Erin shot back, her voice rising in frustration. "Don't you dare say that. He didn't do it because you're a damn good cop. You know you're the best detective in that unit. You know it, Jay! You always try to do the right thing, even when it's not easy. He needed you. The team needed you. You kept things in check. You kept him in check."
His mouth opened to argue, but no words came out as his frustration and self-doubt were quietly fighting against her conviction.
"I'm not sure about that anymore. I don't recognize myself half the time. I'm not keeping anyone in check. I'm just… blending in. Becoming part of the problem."
Erin leaned closer, gently placing her hand on his arm. "Jay, you're not part of the problem. You've always been the one holding everything together. Hank needed you there because you were his moral compass, whether he'd admit it or not. Without you or Antonio, who's left to question him? To call him out when he goes too far?"
Jay's laugh came again, but this time it was weaker, more hollow. "That's the thing, Erin," he said, his voice cracking to a whisper. "I'm not calling him out anymore. I'm just… following along. Breaking the rules. Doing whatever it takes to close the case. I never wanted that. I didn't sign up to be that kind of cop. But now? I don't even know what kind of cop I am anymore."
Jay's voice dropped to a low, bitter tone. "And it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I was always calling out Hank and everyone else. Like when Kim was kidnapped—I gave Ruz such a hard time because he wanted to go cowboy and kick down every door without a warrant to find her. But then… Hailey was a total mess and… God, that's why we—" He stopped abruptly, raising both hands to his head, intertwining his fingers over his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Erin was not sure of what had caused that reaction, but she knew he needed a minute.
When he opened his eyes again, he could see the concern in her eyes. The memory that had come to his mind was not something he wanted to talk about. Not now. But it had been in that moment of confusion, vulnerability, and so much pain that Hailey had asked him to marry her. He didn't know what had happened at the time. It was only much later that he had pieced it all together.
He took a deep breath, grateful that Erin was just patiently listening before continuing.
"When I found out much later that Hank and Hailey… they'd covered up what happened to the kidnapper… I lost it. I punched Hank because I thought he was making her cover for him."
Erin's eyebrows shot up, her head tilting slightly in surprise. "You punched Hank?"
Jay nodded, still not meeting her gaze. "Yeah… and that wasn't even the first time."
"You're saying you actually physically punched him?" she asked, shocked.
"I did," he admitted, his jaw tightening. He kept on, also grateful that she didn't ask when he had punched Hank before. "But then I found out it was actually the other way around. He was covering for Hailey. And after that…" His voice cracked slightly before he continued. "I crossed so many lines to save their asses."
Erin leaned forward, her eyes searching his face. "Jay, it's hard when it's someone we love."
His head shot up, his eyes darkened with frustration, feeling the heaviness of the word love. "Er, I told you I've never—"
"No, listen to me." She interrupted him gently, raising her hand and placing her finger lightly over his lips. Her touch was tender but firm, forcing him to pause. "She was your partner, your friend. She helped you when you needed it. Of course you cared about her. It's normal that you would try to do anything to protect her. Even if you were not in a relationship."
Jay's jaw twitched under her finger, but he stayed still. When she lowered her hand, he exhaled slowly, his eyes softening for a moment before he continued. "Still… We can't be above the law, Erin."
"I know we can't, I'm not saying that we should. Of course not. I'm just telling you not to be so hard on yourself. You're human. You make mistakes."
"You don't understand," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Of course I do," she said firmly.
"I gave Ruz a hard time, and then I did so much worse. That's just so…" He trailed off, frustrated.
"That's why we have partners," she said, her tone soft but steady. "That's why we have backup. That's why we have a whole team behind us. You did the right thing when you gave him a hard time because he needed that from you at that moment. Just like Hank needed it every time you kept him in check."
"And yet, I wasn't there for you," he said suddenly, his voice sad and broken.
She looked at him, confused. "What? What are you talking about?"
He turned to her, his expression pained. "When you entered the interrogation room with your gun… I should have stopped you. I should have made sure you put your gun in the safe. It would have changed everything."
"Don't blame yourself for my mistakes too, Jay," she said with her voice rising with urgency.
"I was your partner. I was supposed—"
"You were not my partner!" she cut him off, her voice firm but not harsh. "Hank had split us, remember? You were not even there."
Jay looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have been…"
"Jay," she said more gently as she leaned closer. "You gotta stop blaming yourself for everything. Stop punishing yourself for every mistake. You've made mistakes, yes… we all have… but you need to forgive yourself to be able to move on."
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't know how to do it. Every time I cross a line, it just… it comes crashing down on me afterward. Makes me question everything. Makes me want to just give up. If you knew all the stuff I've done…" He stopped himself, his breathing heavy. "Damn it, Er… I blackmailed the commander to save their asses. Hailey and Hank…"
"You blackmailed the commander?" Her gaze searched his face, struggling to believe it, but she tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible.
Jay nodded. "Yeah… that's just part of what I'm telling you. I've been crossing lines I never thought I would."
She leaned back slightly, struggling to process what he'd just admitted. It was hard to imagine him doing something like that. Her chest felt tight, not with judgment but with worry.
"You still see me as who I used to be," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
Erin tilted her head, her eyes steady on him. "Because I know that didn't change."
Jay let out a short, humorless laugh. "How the hell can you be so sure when you don't even know half the crap I've done? You just don't." He started to raise his voice out of frustration.
She took a deep breath. "Maybe you've done some stuff you're not proud of. I'm here if you want to talk about them. I'm here for whatever you need, Jay. But I really don't need to know what you did to know that you're still the same man I've always…" Her words wavered, and she closed her eyes, taking a moment to steady herself. She didn't mean to let it slip, but it just hung in the air. Same man I've always loved. She wasn't ready to say it again. Not yet. But it was just so obvious.
Jay's shoulders stiffened, his head turning slightly toward her. Wondering if she was about to say what he thought she was.
"Jay…" she continued, her tone soft, "just the fact that you're not proud of it, that you're struggling because of it—that's more than enough proof for me, don't you see?"
Jay swallowed hard. "You've always tried to see the best in me—hell, the best in everyone. But I'm not that person anymore, Erin. I don't feel like I deserve that you still believe in me like that…"
"Like what?"
"So… blindly…"
She wanted to reach out, to wrap her arms around him, to hold him tight until he believed her. She felt like she was just repeating herself over and over hoping that he would listen. Hoping that he could see himself like she saw him.
"I see you for who you are. You're still you. Maybe you've stumbled—we all have—but that doesn't mean you're broken. It just means you're human."
Jay finally looked up at her, his eyes glassy and haunted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't feel human, Erin. I feel like a shadow. Like I'm just… drifting through life, doing what I have to do to survive. And the worst part? I don't even know if I want to keep fighting anymore."
Erin's throat tightened. She had seen him in dark places before, but never like this. Never so lost. She took a breath, forcing herself to stay calm, to stay strong for him. "Then don't fight for the system, Jay," she said, her tone firm yet gentle. "Fight for what's right. Fight for the people who need you. For yourself. You're not alone in this."
Her tone softened as she leaned closer, trying to draw his eyes up to meet hers. "You're allowed to question things. That's what makes you who you are. You don't just fall in line; you think for yourself. That's why you always stood out. That's why you were the balance in all the chaos at Intelligence."
He shifted uncomfortably, his hands running through his hair, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. "But that balance is gone, Erin. I feel like I'm part of the chaos now. You still don't get it—" He broke off, his voice catching.
She tilted her head. "You know I always thought you'd be the one to step up. To take over Intelligence when Hank retires…"
Jay let out a dry laugh, the sound almost hollow, shaking his head in disbelief. "Hank? Retire?" He sat back, resting against the couch as he gestured vaguely into the air. "Your dad will never walk away from that unit. He'll be running Intelligence from a wheelchair, barking orders until his last breath."
Erin couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Someday he'll have to," she said quietly. "And when that day comes, I always thought it'd be you standing there. Taking the lead. Doing things your way. Doing it right."
He turned his head, avoiding her gaze. "Run it my way?" he muttered, his voice thick with doubt. "Erin, how would I even begin to do that? How would I change the way they all work? The problem isn't the team. It's me. I don't fit in anymore. I haven't for a long time."
"Jay…"
"I'm serious, Erin." His voice cracked, his tone raw and exposed. He leaned forward again. "I used to know who I was. I had this… moral compass, this sense of right and wrong. And now?" His voice dropped. "Now, I don't even know where it points anymore. Every case, every decision, it feels like I'm walking further and further away from who I used to be. From the person I wanted to be. I feel like I'm just… a ghost of the guy I used to be."
Her heart ached at the sadness that seemed to consume him. For a moment, she hesitated, searching for the right words, the right way to reach him.
"Jay," she said gently. "You're not a ghost. You're not a shadow of yourself. You're still here. Still fighting. You haven't lost the part of you that cares. That tries. And that's what makes you who you are."
Her voice lowered, growing even softer as she leaned in, her eyes locked on his. "Everything you're looking for is all still inside you." She placed her hand on his chest lightly. "That compass? It's still here. And I believe you can find it again."
"I'm afraid I can't. I don't know how. I don't know if I can find my way back. I just… I don't know how to do that anymore," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
She reached her hand out, brushing against his fingers lightly. "You do it the way you always have, Jay," she said, her voice gentle but full of conviction. "By being the man I know you are. The one who never gives up, no matter how hard it gets. And listen… you don't have to figure it all out at once. You take it one step at a time. And… you don't have to do it alone. Just believe me when I say you're not as far gone as you think, Jay. You're still Jay Halstead. The guy who fights for what's right. The guy who never gives up. And that's why, you could take over Intelligence if you wanted to. Because you'd run it the way it's supposed to be run. You'd bring it back to what it's meant to be. But if that's not what you want, it's ok too. If you need the change, if you want to explore and fly higher. It doesn't really matter. Whatever you choose to do… whoever you work for… they will just be so fucking lucky to have you."
Jay turned his head, but not before she saw the tear that escaped down his cheek. The sight of it nearly undid her, but she held steady, her own heart aching as she watched him struggle. She leaned in slowly, stroking his cheek with the gentlest touch before pulling him into a quiet embrace. Jay rested his head against her shoulder, his breaths shaky, his weight pressing into her as if he could pour all his grief and regret into her arms.
For several minutes, he wept quietly, and she didn't move. She ran her fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, in silence. She didn't rush him or tell him it was okay—she just stood there by his side. Erin had rarely seen him allow himself this kind of vulnerability, and she knew the importance of giving him space to feel it all without judgment.
When he finally straightened himself, he brushed a hand across his face, wiping away the last traces of his tears. A tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Thanks, Er," he said. "For listening… and for saying all that."
A smirk played at the corner of her mouth as she tried to lift the mood. "Don't thank me yet," she teased. "I'm still not letting you go to Bolivia without a fight."
It was enough to get the reaction she was expecting. He shook his head again, but with a tiny smile this time. And he couldn't hold a little chuckle.
She leaned into him, her head resting gently on his shoulder, and without a second thought, she laced her fingers with his. Her left hand fit perfectly into his right, like it always had.
He didn't pull away, but he stayed quiet, staring at their joined hands. He was thinking. Processing. She knew she had to give him a break to sort through the storm inside of him. She knew she couldn't push him anymore just yet. So she just stood there. By his side. Hoping that her words were being carved in his heart.
A/N: please leave a review to tell me what you're thinking so far! Please!? I've been writing this just for myself for so long, to fill in my own frustration of how things ended for them… but I am still nervous about sharing.
I don't know if it's a glitch but chapter 5 (Again!?) has a lot less hits and viewers than all that came before and after… I remember I posted at the same time as 6… so I am not sure if something went wrong there? (Still learning) Just make sure you didn't skip it, ok? And let me know if there was a problem. Thanks.