I'm back with another one-shot! As some of you may know, a favourite thing of mine is to re-write endings of episodes to give them a very linstead-centered twist! That's what I've done here, playing on what we got in 2x03. For once, this is simply just a scene added on the end, everything that happened in the episode will remain present. (Not essential as I only recap certain things but I didn't want any confusion.)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a desperate Erin and Jay addiction.

Note: I have proof read, but it's kind of late so I'll apologise now for any mistakes. The title of the song is from Kodaline's version of the song 'Latch'.

I hope you enjoy! Please drop a review once you've read it, telling me how you found it with any comments or criticisms:)

She doesn't stay to hear about the next Barbeque Saturday. She doesn't wait for her Mom to finish playing make-believe and pretend as though her life is perfectly normal. She doesn't wait for her mother to uncomfortably pass her around, having to awkwardly shuffle around phrases like 'this is my daughter Erin, the one I never talk about, the one who moved out when she was sixteen, the one who I screwed up beyond repair.' She doesn't wait for more heartbreak.

Instead, she leaves without a word and gets in her nice car and drives to her nice workplace and climbs the nice stairs two at a time until she reaches nice Intelligence and walks into Hank Voight's office, much like she tumbled into his world thirteen years ago. She lets herself unwind and tell stories of her past and tries her hardest not to break down. She calls him her family and feels her broken heart beat loud when he reciprocates what she feels. And as she stumbles back out his office and down the street, she tells herself to be thankful. Because she is. So as she gets in her car and starts the engine and begins her drive down sentimentality Avenue, she knows there's one person she needs to see.

It's late, and Erin knows the gang is at Molly's. A cold beer sounds great. More than great. But someone else sounds better.

The car seems to drive itself, and within no time, Lindsay pulls up outside of Chicago Med. It takes her minutes to get where she wants to be, and when she sees him she sucks in a breath.

Erin walks towards her partner, feeling something sink inside of her as she watches him crumpled against the wall. He must hear her footsteps, he turns his head when she's only mere steps from him. He wordlessly lifts his body, but she notes the effort it takes. He's exhausted.

"Hey." Her voice comes out hoarse and scratches at her throat.

Jay's eyes drift down Erin's body for a second, and she suddenly realises she's still got the dress on. The dress for her mother's wedding. She shifts awkwardly under his gaze.

She pushes strands of hair from her vision and tries to speak again. "How's Maddie doing?"

He tiresomely runs a hand through his hair and over his face. "She's, uh... She's gonna be okay." His eyes are glassy, looking like he might break down any second. Erin's ready for it, though. She's ready to be there for him.

"That's great." Lindsay takes a step closer to her partner. He nods slightly at her words, his jaw still clenched and his heart still heavy.

They stand in silence for a few more moments. She wants to reach out to him, to feel his warmth around her as they cling to each other through the pain. But he's closed off, and so is she, and she knows that bringing two broken hearts together doesn't make a whole one.

"Come on," She rasps softly, reaching out a hand to touch the bare skin of his arm. "Let's go home."

He finally looks at her and the intensity weighs her down. "You're not going out?" His eyes flicker over her outfit again. She feels her body burn under his glance.

"Long story." Erin says, the corners of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

They stand like that for a while longer; Jay in a state of exhaustion and Erin trying her hardest to hold it together. Jay wanting to cry into his partner's shoulder and Erin wanting to let him. Jay wanting to take hold of the hand pressed to his arm and interlink his fingers with hers and squeeze it softly and believe everything might be okay, even just for tonight. Erin wanting that too, more than anything.

She convinces him to grab the duffel from the trunk of his car that he packed the night before. The bounty might be off Jay's head, but his apartment is still trashed. He still needs a place to go.

So he leaves his car at the hospital and takes a ride with Erin, comfortable silence as they trail their way back to her apartment.

Her fingers tap on the steering wheel as they sit in a red light. She looks over to her right and watches as Jay stares aimlessly out at the still traffic. He looks absent.

"My mom got married today." She says, finally deciding to slice through the silence.

Green light.

She pulls into an easy drive and feels her partner's glance on her. She keeps her eyes on the road.

"She asked me to go, and... And I said I wouldn't. But then I caved at the last minute. And looked like an idiot." It feels nice to rid the words from her system; to throw them out into the universe. Jay remains silent, and she appreciates the time to think on it all.

"I keep giving her these second chances, you know? Time to prove me wrong. But she never does."

"You didn't ask me to be your fiance." Jay says after a few more seconds. Erin even exhales a laugh.

"Trust me," She tells him, turning a sharp corner with her fingers trailing the steering wheel. "I did you a favour. You didn't wanna be there."

He shuffles in the seat next to her. She feels him warming.

"Next time, let me come."

Erin waits for him to say more, but nothing comes. Instead, there's a hum to the silence that she so desperately wants to break with some witty remark or scrabble reference. But she can't. Because she knows that next time, she will most definitely let him come.

He stands in her living room, aching and absent. Tossing her clutch on the couch, Erin bumps her shoulder with Jay's before walking slowly to her bedroom. She pauses at the door frame and looks over her shoulder.

"Come on," She tells him, soft to fit the atmosphere. "I've got a few spare drawers you can use."

He doesn't argue, but she wouldn't let him anyway.

Erin flicks on the dim light and the deep haze hits them both. The low light offers some clarity. Erin goes straight to her dresser, hands fiddling with her earrings, while Jay steps awkwardly past her and round the bed, placing his duffel on the edge.

After removing the earrings, Erin steps out of her heels, kicking them to the side. God, she hates heels. She points out the bottom two drawers to Halstead, and watches as he unzips his bag, before turning her attention back to the mirror in front of her.

She's exhausted. Her legs feel like they're going to give any second and her eyes are heavy. Her fingertips trail to her necklace behind the back of her neck, and attempt to unclasp it. Stumbling, it proves futile. She must look stuck, because Jay eventually speaks up.

"Do you need me to..." She wants to provide a witty remark, but again, she doesn't have the will. So she nods instead, pretending not to notice how close he moves to her.

Jay's fingertips graze the nape of her neck and she shivers. She can feel the heat radiate from his body. She can smell a mixture of his cologne and sweat. She can feel his warm breath on her neck. She feels his fingers tremble as they work, and wonders if he's feeling it too.

Stubbornly, the necklace still doesn't give. Erin doesn't know how many seconds have passed; her mind seems clouded. Even more so when Jay's smooth fingers slide a collection of hair round to one side of her neck. She shivers again, this time not even attempting to conceal it.

She tells herself to stop it. She's sad about her mom and he's sad about his bartender. No amount of shivering can change that.

Lindsay doesn't think she's ever been this close to her partner. In a dress, she's baring more skin that she's used to. She feels naked and vulnerable, trembling at the thought of Jay's hands on her.

Stop it, she tells herself. You're partners.

He sighs as he finally unclasps it, pooling the chain in the palm of her hand. He's still behind her. His breath remains evenly on the skin of her neck.

"Thanks." She stumbles over the simple word and feels her throat thicken. She wills herself to turn around and allow them to face each other. But the smoothness of his breathing is intoxicating, and she doesn't want to ruin anything but plummeting them into the depths of reality.

"You know," She drops her head and feels a timid voice escape her lips. "When I lost you over the train tracks today... I haven't been that scared in a long time."

He doesn't say anything and he doesn't have to. Simply having him stood behind her, close enough for her to feel his heart beating against his chest, is enough for Erin.

"Erin." She gulps and is scared to see him. She's scared to be vulnerable. Something pulls her to him though, and as soon as her head is in view of his, he leans down and kisses her. Hard.

She tumbles back slightly, her back knocking against her dresser while her hands immediately go to his shoulders, steadying him and herself. Fingertips clutch her sides and her hands run to the nape of his neck, tugging at the small hairs lying there.

He's warm in her mouth and there's something about the movement of his lips that makes her knees quiver. Jay's stubble grazes her cheek and sends tingles down her spine, willing her to hold onto him for as long as she possibly can.

All thoughts of Voight, her job, her mom, Jay's bartender, her ex-boyfriend, slip her mind. Until all that's left is Jay Halstead, soft lips but hard kisses.

Erin can feel her cheeks flushing at the intensity of what was happening, the reality only just hitting her. It's not enough to stop her though. She doesn't think anything will ever be enough to tear her lips away from his.

Finding her ability to move again, Lindsay knows what she wants. She begins fiercely kissing him back, clumsy kisses of teeth and tongue. While his hands find their way up and twisting in the ends of her hair, she gets to work on the hem of his shirt, fisting it loosely to bring him closer before pulling it up and over his abdominal area until he helps her by removing it the rest of the way. Their lips seperate for a nanosecond. But it's a nanosecond too long.

His lips are back on hers. Hungry. Her fingertips trail over his toned stomach, needing the feeling of skin. Erin feels him unzip the back of her dress, the noise a strange addition to the otherwise restless panting of the two detectives. Awkwardly, Lindsay shimmies out of the little black number, all the while alternating which hands to keep on her partner. He holds her steady while she undresses, then stumbles as she surges forward, free from the constraints of the outfit that she looked undeniably amazing in.

They stumble blindly through the room. Jay feels the blood pounding in his ears as Erin reaches for his belt, tugging at the leather. He feels the backs of her fingertips dangerously low on his stomach. He tastes the mischief in her grin.

Lindsay undoes the belt and holds it tight for a few seconds, hip pressed to hip. She then proceeds to yank it from the loops, letting it fall somewhere behind her in the lowly lit room.

His bare skin touches hers. Even the lace of her bra meeting his pectoral muscles sends a giant shiver down through her being.

They stumble backwards again, this time, with direction. Jay meets the bed first, and perches on the end. At about the same height, Erin has perfect leverage as her hands slide against his neck, his fingertips dancing on her waist. Without warning, he grips her with certainly, pulling and pushing her past him and onto the middle of the bed.

They're drawn again. Magnetic. Her head finds a pillow and his lips find her neck. It drives her crazy. Her head lolls to the sound as she tries her hardest to stifle the moan she knows he wants to draw out. God, she thinks. He's far from house-husband material right now.

While taking a backseat (or passenger seat) at work, Jay Halstead certainly takes charge in the bedroom.

Erin internally prays that she's got something to wear tomorrow that can conceal her neck. She certainly doesn't want to tell her partner to stop what he's doing out of fear someone'll catch sight of a major hickey the next day.

Lindsay's fingertips work at the button on Halstead's jeans, just before he plants a soft, painfully slow kiss onto her swollen lips. Just then, he sucks in a breath as he pulls their lips away, foreheads resting on each other as they both regain breath.

He doesn't think of Brett asking him for a drink. He doesn't think of Maddie in ICU. He doesn't think of Voight telling him to 'keep it in his pants'. He doesn't think of prom night with Allie. He doesn't even think of professionalism.

He thinks of Erin Lindsay, and how she has already managed to beat his heart back to life.