Aftermath

Chapter Twenty Nine

Erin sat in the pew holding his hand. His grief was palpable, a living thing she felt like she could reach out and touch. It tore her insides apart. Her heart broke for him and for Terry's wife. Two days ago this woman had been revelling in the joys of finding out she and her husband were expecting a boy. Today she was saying goodbye to the man her son would never meet.

Erin tried to keep her emotions in check. She'd been doing that since she heard Jay's voice over the scanner. She understood her role here, to support him. To sit quietly by Jay's side and be his rock. Just like he'd done for her so many times before. She owed him this, but more importantly she wanted to be this for him.

She snuck another glance up at him. Her mind had difficulty reconciling this man in full dress uniform with the one she knew, always in blue jeans and a hoody. The uniform gave his past life, something tangible that she wanted to know about but it was also something she couldn't bring herself to imagine. She had small glimpses now and then of who he might have been in that place but looking at him now, dressed to honour his friend, reminded her that she knew very little about Jay's life as a soldier. Deep down she knew he'd never be able to fully share that part of him with her. But she was beginning to be okay with that. She thought about her own journey. There were definitely things she couldn't share with anyone. Not even with Jay, the person she now trusted more than anyone, even Hank.

She felt a million miles away from him right now, even though he maintained a firm grasp on her hand. He had barely held it together since the robbery. She knew at some point he would need to break down and submit to his grief. She hoped that she could be there for him and hoped she knew how to be there for him.

Erin looked again across the isle at Terry's wife and was struck by how lucky she was, having Jay here beside her. She immediately felt guilty for her luck. Things could change so fast and without warning. This woman and her unborn son would carry a lifetime of loss. It could have been Jay that was shot. Erin couldn't let her mind go there. She couldn't be his partner, the partner he needed, if she was going to start worrying about all the what ifs. There was a price to having a personal relationship with the person who put their life on the line for you everyday. Erin closed and then opened her eyes. These careening thoughts were getting her no where and this wasn't the time or place to be thinking about her own feelings.

Erin returned to the district after the service and wake. Jay was planning on meeting Mouse afterwards and although he'd invited her to tag along she knew Jay and Mouse needed their time together, their common history helping them grieve. Jay had said he would swing by the district afterwards and they'd have dinner together. She was encouraged by his want to spend time with her.

A short while after she'd settled in, Hank had sent her across town to follow up on a case they were working with another unit and it was late by the time she pulled into the parking lot at the 21st. She had sent Jay a text over an hour ago letting him know she'd be out for a bit but her screen still showed no reply from him. Although she spied his car parked in its usual spot so she assumed he'd be in the district somewhere. Erin decided to enter through the roll up and make her way up from there looking for him.

When she located him her heart shattered into a million peices. He sat on the cold concrete floor, back against the lockers, head hung between his knees, shoulders shaking as sobs erupted from him. She wanted to run to him and wrap him up in her arms. But she didn't want him to shut down, shut her out. So she moved slowly, cautiously.

When she was near she squatted down in front of him and gently said his name. There was no response. She wasn't sure he'd heard her. She placed a hand on his knee. "Jay," she said again. He didn't look up. The sobs still racked him. She moved her hand to his shoulder and rocked onto her knees. Slowly she ran her hand back and forth across his shoulder blade.

Without warning his hands came up to grip her waist and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, cradling his head to her neck. He squeezed her to him a little too tightly but Erin didn't care. He was using her for comfort instead of pushing her away. At that thought she had a flash of how Jay must have felt all those months ago when she's all but cut him out of her life when Nadia was murdered. She stroked the back of his head while he cried, placed gentle kisses in his hair.

She couldn't form words. His grief overwhelmed her. Jay was a passionate man she knew. His anger she'd seen many times as his partner. His affection she revelled in daily but these emotions, regret, grief, helplessness; he'd never let her see She doubted there were many people who had ever seen this side of him. But she did understand this kind of grief. She did understand the sense of responsibility Jay felt for this man.

After another moment Jay took some slow shuttered breaths. Eventually he lifted his head and gave her a sad, almost embarrassed smile. "I know I promised dinner out but would you be okay with take out?" She heard the apology in his voice, one that wasn't necessary. She smiled back at him and ran her hand over the five o'clock shadow forming on his jaw.

"Take out sounds perfect, let's go home." They helped each other stand and headed out, side by side.