reality [part 14]
S U R P R I S EÂ | I honestly havenât written in so long - a large part of that due to the fact that Sophia is no longer on our TVâs and I needed to wrap my head around it. Truth be told, Iâm still sad, but Iâm so glad to see everyone still on here. And now, here is this heartbreaking piece. Please enjoy - and thank you always.Â
[part 14]
She was stuck in an eerie sort of slow motion - the world moving around her in a frantic sort of pattern, with people yelling and people screaming and people dashing from one end of the room to another and yet she was frozen, the sound of his gasp still echoing in her eardrums, the sound of what she could only assume was the shattering of his cell phone echoing in a sick sort of highlight reel.
Mouseâs face had been the first thing to click in her brain, having been rushed and then locked in the conference space of the building in the wee hours of the morning, far too many important people looking as if they were at a complete loss at what was to come next. And it wasnât making her feel any better to know she was only standing here - in a god awful pencil skirt and wrinkled white blouse because she couldnât be bothered to actually remember to do her own laundry when their people - hell, one of her best friends was getting blown to smithereens. It wasnât fair. God, it wasnât fair at all.
âErin. We need a next move.â
She was once again caught off guard at the sound of her own name - the lurch from her twisted sense of reality into the here and the now, the names and the faces and the ranks of every soldier, every man and woman fighting for this country now dead up on the monitors, tears welling her eyes and then the shaking of her fingers because her head mightâve been here but her heart was exactly seven - hundred and ninety miles away in the city of Chicago.
âSpencer, Iâm done. I - I have to go.â Her hazel orbs were blazing now, with a ferocity of something that even she couldnât put a finger on, couldnât quite explain but she was riled, ready to kick and fling and yell and scream because she couldnât be here. She needed to be there.
Perhaps sensing the brunetteâs determination, perhaps understanding that her heart was not here but that it was right there with him, with the shattering of the world that was now without his best friend, the slight twitch of her bossâs head all she needed to tear out of that blasted building, a mad dash out onto the city street to hail a cab. The coolness of the sidewalk of the bottom of her feet slashed through some of the numbness, some of the dull thud over and over again in her eardrums that she figured was the pounding of her heartbeat- getting faster and more erratic still as she began what she knew she needed to do. Where she needed to be. The bang of a cab door shut came next, snapping through her dull haze, another frenzied dash into her apartment as despite shaking fingers she managed to dial one of the only numbers she had ingrained in her head. Branded in her memory despite the fact sheâd never really been good with numbers, with dates, with birthdays. Hell, sheâd grown up barely celebrating Christmas. Maybe it was her own fault her brain could never lock them in.
âVoight.â
As if he didnât know who was calling. As if he didnât know why.
âI need -â
âHeâs at the district, Erin. I had to lock him in an interrogation room. HeâsâŠâ
Her heart lurched - her soldier. Her blue-eyed, pure hearted soldier.
âIâm coming. Hank, tell him Iâm coming, okay?â
There was a silence then and she knew he was gone, hopefully to offer some comfort, at the very least to give him some company. She was sick to her stomach at the thought, at the immensity of the news she had had to deliver over the phone. How absolutely pathetic.
âIâm coming, Jay. God, Iâm so sorry. Iâm coming.â
X
Twelve hours and twenty three minutes later, the beep of the security gate clicking open, the clearance granted with her old Intelligence ID card, her body moving too fast to allow her mind to stay rooted in the nostalgia of it all, her hazel eyes swollen from all the tears to linger for too long on her surroundings - the seventeen steps, one after the other that it took to get up to the bullpen, the frenzied and frazzled movement of the team as they all stood at her entrance, Kim giving a nod to the left to where he had to be without so much as another word. She realized the weight. They all did.
Nearly overwhelmed with emotions that she couldnât ever find the words to bring it to the surface, Erin tossed her coat onto what she hoped was still his desk, her eyes locking onto a fiercely determined looking blondeâs in some kind of understanding before her final dash down the hall, colliding into Hank without much more than a choked out sob as her tiny frame hit him, fighting against his arms wrapping her around her before giving in.
âHey. Breathe. Youâre okay.â His gravelly tone gave her the level-headedness that she hadnât realized she needed, pulling away slowly to meet his steady gaze, brushing the last few teardrops as they fell down her cheeks with the pad of her thumb.
âHeâll be okay too. Weâre a family. All of us. Heâs not alone.â Hank flashed a sad smile, a quirk of one corner of his mouth in the upwards direction before pulling away from her - twisting a key in the lock, giving a gentle tap on the door before his hand wrapped over the doorknob, nudging the thing open just a crack, enough to send her heartbeat into another frantic frenzy.
Inhaling - a deep, shaky breath inward, Erin twisted the fingers of her hands together out in front of her, taking the few steps forward and past the threshold of the room, finding him hunched over in one of those plastic-backed chairs - his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking and his fingers clenched and his knuckles white, tears brimming her eyes at the mere sight of him. At the weight of it all hitting her once more. Mouse was dead and Jay was not - and a world where that was the reality was going to be a difficult one to navigate.
âJay.â
And then her instincts took over, closing the rest of the space between them, tugging him out of the chair and into her arms, letting the both of them fall onto the floor as she felt the saltiness of his tears soak through her sweater, her own falling in a steady rhythm as she held him close. One hand curled around torso and the other twisting into his hair, landing gentle kisses wherever she could reach as they collapsed into their own shared heartbreak - the feeling of his fingers clenching now onto the fabric of her sweater, his blue eyes squeezed shut amongst the turmoil of his heart.
âHeâs gone. Er, heâs gone. Why wasnât it me? Damn it⊠why wasnât it me?â
One hand flew up to her mouth then, covering it to hold back a guttural sob from the pit of her stomach, knowing she needed to be his rock and that she needed to keep it together, knowing that she would never be able to fully understand the weight of the pain that he went through or all of the pieces of him that Afghanistan took - the count of the lives of six of his buddies gone and dead now up to seven.
âIâm sorry, baby. Iâm so sorry,â she whispered against his cheek, holding him tighter. Because all she could do was love him with all she had - broken pieces and all.
