Hi! I am so sorry for the epic delay on this! I had a bunch of work deadlines back to back, and then I just sort of fell off track. I'm really sorry! Things are SUPER busy right now, so I can't promise this will be updated soon - but I do have more story in mind, and I am hoping to get a new chapter up at least reasonably soon!

Again, I'm so sorry for the delay. Thank you all for your lovely reviews!

-o-o-

Erin passes out in his arms, but Jay can't sleep.

He feels nauseous and shaky and exhausted, but his eyes won't seem to close. The two hours he spent bashing the hell out of a heavy bag at Antonio's gym have drained away a little bit of the rage - but it's been replaced by a bone-deep pain, a sadness he hasn't felt since his mother died.

He doesn't know what to do with all the feelings. He's furious - at the team, at Voight, at Burgess, at Natalie, at the sick fuck who did this to her. And maybe a little bit at Erin herself, because how could she lie to him like this? How could she keep him in the dark and force him to watch her suffer, when he could have done something?

And she might say she trusts him - and maybe she even believes that - but the fact that she wouldn't tell him she'd been raped means that she doesn't. Not entirely.

He thinks of a conversation in the break room, a few weeks after they'd broken up. If I told you what Voight did for me, you wouldn't like it, she'd said with a shrug.

He feels like they've come so far since that moment, but clearly she's still shutting him out of all the bad stuff. Like he can't handle it.

She shifts in his arms, whimpering something unintelligible. He kisses her head, combing his fingers gently through her hair as she settles back down.

He looks at her face, peaceful in sleep. And he worries that maybe he can't handle it.

Because the person he's angriest at is himself.

He's been begging her to talk to him for months. And when she finally, finally had, when she'd sat there on their couch and told him what that bastard had done to her, he'd sat on the other side of the room and cried like an infant. He'd yelled at her and he'd thrown a glass at the wall, and then he'd stormed out.

He doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself for that.

Her halting, agonized words are still echoing in his ears. I tried not to scream, but it was hard. He's never let himself think about what must have happened, but now he can't seem to stop.

Because now he can picture it - her, on the floor of that grimy, dark basement. Maddie screaming in the corner. That monster on top of her, holding her down, forcing himself into her.

She must have been so scared.

Erin whimpers again, her fist tightening around his T-shirt. He pulls her closer, burying his nose in her hair.

He has to be able to handle it. There's no other option.

-o-o-

Erin walks into the kitchen hesitantly. She's showered and dressed for work, and she looks much better than she had the day before.

He thinks, with the exception of one nightmare, that she had slept through the night.

So that's something.

He hands her a coffee mug. She smiles, but it's worried and uncomfortable.

"Voight called," he says. "We're on call, but he told the whole unit not to come in."

Erin's eyes widen. "What?" she says, looking panicked.

"He said - he felt like everyone could use some rest," Jay says. He's a little confused - not sure if the prospect of spending the day alone with him is what's upsetting her.

Erin nods rapidly, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Is that okay?" Jay says uncertainly.

"Yeah," she says, her voice a little too high. She takes a gulp of her coffee. "Um - does everyone...know?"

Jay takes a hesitant step toward her. "I'm not sure," he says. "I think they might - suspect, at least."

Erin bites down hard on her lip. "Oh," she says. "Okay."

Shit.

"Um, I made omelettes," he says, retrieving the two plates from the counter and carrying them to the table. "I thought since - we have time."

She nods, not looking at him.

Things have never, ever been awkward between them. Not before they dated, not while they were broken up, never.

He hates this.

He sits down across from her, reaches for her hand. She startles, and he forces himself to not let go.

"I'm so sorry," he says.

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault," she says, avoiding eye contact.

"No," he says. "Yesterday - I did everything wrong, and I don't know how to make it up to you."

She nods, picking at her omelette. "It's a lot," she says. "I know that."

He swallows hard. She's so shut down, and he doesn't know how to get through. "I love you," he whispers. "I just want to be here."

She smiles, but still doesn't look at him. "I know," she says, squeezing his hand and pulling away. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? It's fine. It's gonna be fine."

Jay takes a bite of his omelette. He can barely taste it.

They sit in silence. She won't look at him.

-o-o-

"I'm gonna go for a run," Erin announces suddenly, pushing herself out of the chair. "Since we don't have to go in."

"Oh," Jay says.

He wants to stop her, wants to tell her that they should talk, but it feels futile when he can't figure out what to say.

"Do you want me to come?" he offers, trying to sound casual.

"No," she says. She's halfway to the bedroom, but she gives him a small smile over her shoulder. "I'm still getting back in shape. I'm really slow now. It's fine."

"Okay," he says, watching her disappear into the bedroom.

He rubs at the encroaching migraine. He has absolutely no idea what to do.

-o-o-

There's a knock on the door only a few minutes after she leaves, and for a hopeful second, he thinks she's come back, that she wants to talk, that she wants him to come with her.

It's hard to hide his disappointment when he sees his boss waiting in the hallway.

"She's not here," he says with a sigh, holding the door open anyway. "She went for a run."

Voight nods, ambling into the living room, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

They stand in uncomfortable silence. Jay gestures towards the couch. "Do you - do you want some coffee?"

Voight shakes his head, takes a seat. "I'm good. How's she doing?"

Jay has no idea how to answer that question. He stares blankly at his boss, his throat thick with emotion. He blinks back the tears.

"How are you so calm?" Jay says instead, collapsing into the armchair. "She was - she -"

He still can't get the word out.

Voight's eyes are fixated on a photo Erin keeps in a frame near the TV. It's an old print of her and Voight, sitting on the deck behind his home. Voight looks much younger, much less haunted. Until a few months ago, he'd always thought the picture was evidence of how far Erin had come since those dark days.

But now all her eyes have that same traumatized, empty look as they did when she was a teenager.

"When Justin was killed," Voight says slowly. "I almost lost Erin too. In how I dealt with it. So this time…"

He sighs, hunching over, far away. "Erin won't open up till she's ready," Voight says, and Jay thinks he might be trying to convince himself. "All you can do in the meantime is try to be there."

"And if she destroys herself while I'm waiting for her to 'open up?'" Jay asks bitterly. "She didn't 'open up.' Maddie spilled her secret. If that hadn't happened, she never would have told me."

Voight shrugs. "All you can do is be there," he says gently, like he's talking to a small child. "Erin grew up in a world where she couldn't trust anyone, where asking for help would get her in trouble."

"But it's not like that now!" Jay says, frustration boiling over. "She trusts me! She's always trusted me."

"It's not about you," Voight says. "She's not doing it to hurt you."

"She said she was protecting me," Jay bites.

"Probably thought she was," Voight says thoughtfully. "Look, Jay, I know it doesn't make a lot of sense to you, but Erin didn't grow up like you did. She grew up afraid all the time, and she learned a different set of rules."

Jay crosses his arms, sinks further into the chair. He feels like a petulant little kid, but for some reason he can't help it - Erin's the one who was hurt, and he's the one having a temper tantrum.

"She didn't lie to you to hurt you," Voight says. "Gotta grow up, Halstead."

Jay keeps his arms wrapped around himself, trying not to cry. Voight doesn't say anything as he hugs himself tightly, trying - and failing - to pull himself together.

-o-o-

"How long have you known?" Jay asks, when he finally feels able to breathe again.

Voight takes his time answering. "Since it happened," he admits.

It's a punch in the stomach. "You've - the whole time?" Jay manages. "Did she - she told you?"

"No," Voight says. "I just knew."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jay says incredulously.

"Wouldn't have done any good to push her," Voight says with a shrug. "I knew when she was ready to talk about it she would."

Jay stares at him, mouth gaping like a fish. "She's been...you let her work. You let her in the field when she - she could have been - she could have…"

He trails off, unable to voice it.

"I've been watching her," Voight says defensively. "I thought it would be good for her. I thought being back to work would help her get back to normal."

Jay swallows hard. He can't argue with that, because the truth is, the only time Erin had felt like Erin to him since it happened had been when she was engrossed in a case.

He wants so badly to scream. To punch someone, to rail and yell and lose his mind at the fucking unfairness of the whole goddamn situation. He wants to curl up in a ball on the floor and cry.

He wants his mom.

"I don't know how to help her," he whispers. "She's a mess. She's not sleeping, she's barely eating." He buries his face in his hands. "She thinks I'm gonna leave her."

He expects Voight to reassure him, to promise him that Erin doesn't really think that. Instead, Voight says, "Why don't you go for a walk?"

Jay freezes. "What?"

"Get some air," his boss suggests. "Go grab some coffee with Antonio or your brother. Take a break."

The idea makes Jay panic. "I'm not - no. I'm not leaving her. She's gonna get back and - I need to-"

"Halstead," Voight says firmly. "Go clear your head. Let me talk to her."

Jay doesn't know what to do. He can't tell his boss that he's already left her, that he walked out last night, that if he's not here when she gets back, she's gonna think…

But then...maybe she doesn't want him here when she gets back. At this point, he has no idea.

His hands are shaking as he pulls his coat off the hook, as he slips his keys into his pocket.

He waits for the elevator instead of walking down the two flights of stairs. It takes forever.

He's never felt this alone before.

-o-o-

He enters the hospital through the front door, bypassing the emergency department. He doesn't want to run into his brother, or Natalie - or anyone, really.

He takes the elevator to the fourth floor, his limbs numb as he makes his way along the corridor.

The door is half open. He's working up the courage to knock, to go in, when Dr. Charles looks up from his paperwork.

"Detective Halstead," he says cheerfully. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jay takes a hesitant step forward, still hovering in the doorway. His heart is pounding so hard it's all he can hear. "Um, I just…" He swallows hard. His tongue tastes like sandpaper. "I just wanted to...um…"

Dr. Charles waits him out. "Um, Erin," Jay manages. He shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears. "Erin, she was, uh - she was raped."

It's the first time he's said it out loud, and he immediately feels the urge to vomit. He hunches over, hands on his knees, trying to breathe.

Dr. Charles comes around the desk and wraps an arm around him, guiding him carefully to the couch. He kicks the door closed, then sits down beside him.

He feels a brief stab of guilt for sharing Erin's private business with the doctor. Erin wouldn't want him to know, Jay knows that.

But it's just another thing on a long list, and Jay doesn't know where else to go.

"She's, um...she's not doing that great," he forces himself to say. "She's having a lot of - of trouble, I guess, and I'm here because I, uh - I don't know how to help her, and I just...I want to be able to help her. So...yeah."

Dr. Charles doesn't say anything. Finally, Jay manages to look up, to meet his eyes. "How are you doing, Jay?" he asks gently.

"It's not - Erin's the one who was hurt," Jay says. "I'm not - I just - it's not about me. I just need to be able to help her, and I'm not - doing a very good job of that, so…"

He's greeted again with silence.

Jay shifts uncomfortably on the couch. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have come here. He should have stayed home, should have told Voight to fuck off and stayed home with Erin.

"Jay," Dr. Charles says, his voice soothing and hypnotic. "How are you feeling?"

Suddenly there are tears tracking down his cheeks. He chokes down a sob. He can literally feel his entire body unraveling.

"How do you think I'm doing?" he gasps. "My - my girlfriend was raped. My girlfriend was raped, and I - I'm such a - I can't even - she was attacked, and I can't - I can't…"

He can't breathe, can't get the words entire world seems to be collapsing around him.

Dr. Charles sits beside him while he cries.

-o-o-

Erin's sitting on the couch when he walks in, alone, staring into space. She doesn't seem to hear him come in, and he freezes in the doorway, afraid to scare her.

Afraid of whatever dark place she might be trapped in.

"Hey," he says gently, taking a hesitant step toward her.

She turns to look at him, face a mask. "Hi," she whispers.

He cautiously takes a seat on the couch beside her. Close, but not too close.

"Voight leave?" he asks.

She nods. "He, uh - he's not gonna put it in the report. In my file. So - hopefully it won't come out."

"That's good," he says, not totally understanding.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I just - if the job got taken away, I just...I couldn't…"

"It's not going to be," he reassures. He still doesn't get it, doesn't understand the words she's using - taken away? - but he doesn't push it.

She nods. He isn't sure she believes him.

"I, uh-" he starts. He's certain this will make her angry, but he doesn't want to lie to her, doesn't want more secrets between them. "I went to talk to Dr. Charles."

She stares at him, wide-eyed. "That's great, Jay," she finally whispers, eyes filling with tears. She manages a watery smile.

He's so shocked by her response that all he can do is stare. He's even more surprised when she quietly, hesitantly asks, "Did it help?"

She looks almost hopeful.

"It was really hard," he admits. "But...maybe it did." He shrugs. "I made an appointment. To go back."

"That's really good," she whispers. "I'm so glad you're doing that."

He's so relieved to hear her say that.

"I, um," she says, voice thin. "I'm really sorry, but I - I can't do that."

His heart pounds. "What?" he manages.

"Talk to someone?" she says. "I really - I'm glad that you are. I know how hard this is, and I'm so - I just want for you to be okay, and I'm so happy to that you have someone to talk to." She squeezes her eyes shut. "But I just want you to - I can't do that, I can't talk about it. Okay?"

"Hey," he says gently, waiting until she turns to look at him. "You don't have to. You don't ever have to talk about it if that's what you want."

He hears Voight's words, hears Dr. Charles. She'll come to him when she's ready.

"I just need you to know," he says. "You once told me that if I needed help carrying my burdens, all I had to do was ask."

She bites her lip in a way he knows means she's fighting back tears.

"I'm here," he says, wishing he could hug her. Wishing he could offer her more. "For anything. Whatever you need."

She smiles at him and nods, turning away before he can see the tears slide down her cheeks.

-o-o-

"I, uh - there is one thing we do have to talk about," Jay says reluctantly. They've been sitting in comfortable silence for a while now, and he does not want to bring this up, but-

"The Xanax," Erin whispers.

"Yeah," he says.

"Thank you," she says. "For not telling Voight."

"Of course," he says, a little sad that she even thinks he would. "You're my partner."

She nods, avoiding his eyes. "It's been helping," she says.

He's not sure he agrees, because if anything, it feels like Erin's been getting worse. But he doesn't want to challenge her.

"That's good," he says. "But...you can't keep taking Xanax you bought on the street."

She looks lost. "I trust this guy," she says, a little desperately. "It's been fine."

Part of him wants to shake her, because what she's saying is so ludicrous, so far from the Erin he knows that he's having trouble believing they're the same person.

He doesn't want to treat her like a child, doesn't want to take away her control or make decisions for her, but - "You still can't," he says tentatively. "It's dangerous."

She looks panicked. "I need it."

"Have you taken Xanax before?" he tries.

They've never spoken about her drug use. He knows - sort of - that it's happened. Knows she used as a teenager, knows that she was likely high when he confronted her outside that club during her...hiatus.

But he's never asked about it, and she's never volunteered any information.

She shrugs, eyes shifting side to side.

"This really scares me," he says, before he can stop himself. "Erin, when you were in the hospital, you wouldn't take anything stronger than Tylenol."

"This is different," she says, still not looking at him. "And it's just temporary."

Jay watches her avoid his eyes. It's a behavior he recognizes, and it's terrifying.

"If Voight finds out that you're taking prescription pills you bought off the street..." he says, his voice shaking.

"It's temporary," she repeats. "I have it under control."

It takes everything he has not to argue this point. "Please," he begs. "This guy - he took so much from you, Erin." She winces, but he keeps going. "Don't let him take your career too."

"Jay," she says, finally turning to look at him. "I'm not dependent on the Xanax. I promise, okay? It's just helping me right now, and I need to keep taking it until things settle down a little."

He blinks past the tears, then gives in. "Could you get a real prescription for them?" he asks. "Please."

She shakes her head, confused. "I don't want to talk to anyone-"

"You don't have to," he says. "Just - I'm sure Dr. Charles will write you a prescription if you ask."

She thinks about this for so long that Jay can hardly breathe. He's certain she's going to say no, and he has no idea what to do with that.

Finally, she says. "Okay."

"Okay?" he manages.

She shrugs. "If that's - yeah, okay."

He pulls her against his chest and hugs her, the relief overwhelming.

Maybe she's still in there somewhere.

-o-o-