#I know this is the prayer thingy the priest says in a catholic church before the consecreation

[glasgowgirl92-blog]

OKAY! SO! Surprise!Fic. 

I’ve been obsessing over CPD 3x17 for about a week, then I got talking to the lovely @halsteadpd about a lot of things and something that was said today sparked my inspiration meter and we have this. I’ve always thought about this situation; Jay with blood on his hands and not cleaning it off. So this little ficlet is set between Jay and Erin’s hug and Jay and Hank in his office. 

Also, it’s @halsteadpd‘s birthday so if you haven’t said happy birthday yet, you should. This is for you, bb! Happy Birthday! 

Wash Away my Inequity and Cleanse me from my Sins.

Jay was used to this feeling; the numbness that set in after watching someone he knows get hurt or when he has to take a life. His hands hold the power to save and to kill and he’s known this since the day he joined the rangers. The intensive training he’d been through, he’d been taught hand to hand combat skills and could very easily snap a neck in one quick move should he need to. It’s always been a notion that never really sat right with him; a power he could never make peace with. Having a weapon, a gun was one thing, he shot that and could wound, maim or kill if he was fired upon. But there was something entirely too personal with using his hands.

He’d been here before, in this position this exact same spot, both for similar reasons. Jay was too focused to pay much attention at what was happening until he was right in the middle of it and then it was too late to back down or pull away, because she wouldn’t let him for one and two, his need for cleanliness dictated that this had to happen.

The first time it had happened, he’d been sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for news of Maddie, when a small hand had curled around his bicep and tugged him to his feet, dragging him out into the parking lot and shoving him into the car. He didn’t have the heart to protest, swamped and drowning in guilt and shame, enough for Erin to have patted his leg as they drove, enough of a silence between them for her to start talking about her days in the academy and this one dude who Jay reminded her of. Erin had huffed and dragged him out of the car and up into the locker room, depositing him on one of the benches before she disappeared and then returned with a bowl of water, a bar of soap and a towel and a wash cloth.

Just like she was doing now, she’d put the bowl beside him on the bench and then straddled it, raising an eyebrow, her hazel eyes pleading with him to follow her lead, a smile a reward when he complied so the bowl of water was between them. Her touch always soothed him, one brief touch was always enough to quell the storm inside of him, quiet it enough for him to get himself back in check. It had taken him a while the first time to recognize what she was doing, but this time he knew. This time he understood and while his pride took a hit, something else, something warmer inside filled his veins and it slowly turned into something peaceful.

There was nothing he could do to make sure Terry was alright; it wasn’t looking good. The amount of blood he’d lost, the way he’d gargled and choked on the ground flashed through Jay’s head reminding him of Maddie; reminding him that she pulled through, so maybe there was a chance. There was hope.

Jay’s eyes drifted from the spot on the wall to the woman in front of him who had just rolled up her sleeves and had taken one of his hands in hers; dipping the cloth into the water before running it over his hands. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t hurt, but she was being so gentle and it stung. Erin was gently wiping away the blood from his hands, the water was warm but it wasn’t overly so and he knew she’d probably checked it before she brought it to him. She lathered the cloth before moving it over his hand again; making sure she cleaned every inch of his hand from wrist to fingertip. Erin was so careful and Jay was riveted by her methodical movements; the way she’d clean and then rinse, slowly lowering his hand into the now pink coloured suds. Just as gently as she washed his hand, she dried it, in the exact same way.

The noise in Jay’s head was silent now; the anger and the rage and the pain and the fear were so silent because Erin had his hand in hers and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d hold his hand no matter how far he had to go on this; no matter the road he’d have to take to get the guy and nail him.

The first time Erin had done this for him; had dragged him into the locker room and washed his hands for him, after Maddie, he’d had a mouth full of apologies. He’d so quietly asked her for her forgiveness, for almost getting her hurt, getting her killed because it could have been her there. She’d linked their fingers together, the bloodstained studs covering her hands, too and she’d looked him in the eye and told him that it wasn’t his fault. Reminded him that the bounty that was on his head was on it because he’d taken down someone who was going to take her out. Erin had held his hand, his gaze and as she looked into his eyes he knew then that he’d gladly hand over his soul for this woman if that’s what it took.

She’d forgiven him right away and it wasn’t until months later when she was asleep in his arms, her warm body wrapped around his, her head on his chest, that he’d finally accepted that she was safe, that she was okay and even if she had to strap her own vest on now, she was still safer than she had been with him in that bar that night.

Today, though, today as she moves onto his second hand, Jay’s eyes are the ones seeking hers, needing to catch a glimpse of the hope that’s in front of him; of the real of the tangible. Erin finally grants him the look, the chance to see that while things might not be okay right now, that they would be, that she was there for him. Once again, her fingers slowly link with his and he chokes back the tears because her hands are so small and soft compared to his, but they’re just as strong and just as powerful as his. There’s an audible sigh as she leans in, and his head meets hers and they just breathe the same air and Jay realizes that although this time is the same was with Maddie, it’s different.

This time, it could have been him and not her. This time it could have been Terry’s hands pressing against his wounds, Terry’s voice telling him to hold on. This time she could have been Lissa, she could have been the one racing to the hospital to work out what the hell had happened. This time she understood how he’d felt the first time, knowing that when he’d woken up with her that morning and they’d had breakfast and joked around and he’d fireman carried her into the bathroom as she swatted his butt, that it all could be the last time and Jay’s sure she hears his thoughts because they shudder around the same time and Jay steals a kiss, leaning in to press warm lips to her, a promise to them both that they were safe and this time it wasn’t them.

Erin finishes off cleaning his hand in silence, drying it just as softly and right when she goes to move, she freezes and Jay’s eyes widen at the look in hers; the pain he sees causes his heart to clench and he reaches for her right as she brings the damp cloth to his face, a shaking hand tentatively wiping the blood from his cheek, the palpable relief that comes off of her when she realizes that it’s not his blood fills him and he has to stay seated for a moment as she swings her leg over the bench and picks up the bowl, disappearing with it.

Jay takes a couple of steadying breaths before pushing to his feet, finding her running the water, the pink suds washing away as he wraps his arms around her from behind and presses his lips to her hair, her damp hands resting on his, linking their fingers.

“We’re gonna get em.” She whispers and her voice is resolute, just like the last time.

“I know.” He nods, the argument already forming in his head because Voight is absolutely not taking him off of this case and he’ll fight him for it if he has to; he will literally throw hands if that’s what it takes.

“Jay.” She says, their eyes meeting in the mirror and everything they’re not saying is held in that one syllable of his name. His name has never sounded so heavy, so full of hope and promise and life and he finds himself smiling despite the situation as he pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her as she clings onto his arms, anchoring him.

“Erin.” He whispers back, pressing another kiss onto the back of her head, resting his cheek there, hoping she gets it, hoping she hears everything that fear and loss are keeping him from saying.

She opens her mouth to say something else when Antonio taps the locker, letting them know he’s there.

“Jay, Voight wants you in his office.” He says, tone just enough to carry the implication that Jay is going to have to fight for this one and he thanks Tony before giving his girl one last squeeze and stepping back, her hand not letting his go until they physically couldn’t reach.

“Hey, Jay?” Her voice carries through the room and he moves back to look and see what Erin needs to say. “Just remember you have back up.” She tells him and in that moment, the crushing feelings of pain and anger and fear that threaten to overwhelm him now that she’s not in his arms are squashed flat, hope residing in their space. He gives her one nod before heading off to Hank’s office, ready to fight for his friend knowing that he has hope in his corner.