All I Want for Christmas

If we can make it through December

maybe we'll make it through forever.

'Cause all I want for Christmas

is you and me to fix this.

If we can make it through December

every New Year we'll have together.

Baby, all I want for Christmas

is you and me to fix this.

One.

Erin looked defeated—not sad, heartbroken, angry, or upset—just completely and utterly defeated. And it was all his fault.

He was the one who got blackout drunk. He was the one who married a girl he was only kind of friends with. He was the one who didn't stick around long enough to make sure she signed the divorce papers. He was the one who couldn't get a hold of whatever underlying PTSD issues he apparently hadn't shoved down far enough. And he was the one who kept all of this from her.

So badly he wanted her to see that he was doing this for her own good, that she was safer and better off with him crashing with his brother for an indefinite period of time. Who he was, who he still had the potential of becoming, was not someone he was proud of and she had already dealt with her fair share of shitty men who weren't right for her. He just wished that she understood he was doing this for her, he was finally working on bettering himself for her.

Then maybe she wouldn't look so defeated by the world.

At first, he was the only one who noticed the change in her demeanor. But that was because he knew her better than anyone, even Voight (that was her observation, not his own.) Albeit very slowly, the rest of the unit caught on until everyone noticed how she rarely ever smiled and, if she did, it was only a slight quirk of her lips and not the full-on blinding beam they all immediately fell in love with. They noticed how she seldom left her desk unless she was instructed to, her frequent trips for a cup of coffee decreased to maybe once a day, no more than twice. They noticed how she was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. But, most importantly, they noticed how she no longer stopped by Molly's for after work drinks to decompress following the ridiculously tasking cases they had recently been slammed with. Without even trying, she was always the life of the party at the beloved bar and her presence was sorely missed by all.

Watching her furiously type up a report on her computer, tongue sticking out the corner of her pursed lips, shoulders rounded into a stiff hunch, and eyes unwaveringly trained on the words she was typing, he mentally grasped at ideas of how he could fix her, fix them. She was defeated and still taking heavy fire and was in desperate need of backup. He swore he'd always be her backup, but what kind of partner just left his other half to fend for themselves as long as he had?

'A real fucking shitty one,' he thought. Like cowards who hide from their fears, he abruptly leapt out from behind his desk and proceeded to seek refuge in the breakroom. It was becoming physically painful for him to look across from his desk and see the emotional damage he had inflicted on the love of his life.

She was still the love of his life. That fact had not changed, will never change. He may have told her just under two years ago that she, Erin Lindsay, made him, Jay Halstead, a better cop. But, what he should have said was that she made him a better man. She made him be someone his deceased mother could be proud from the grave. She made him live up to and higher the ridiculous standards he always held himself to. She made him not care that he had a past, not care that he once could be classified among the most despicable of men. She made him better in every possible way a person could and then some. He liked to think that he influenced her in the same way.

'And yet, you still managed to screw her over,' he silently berated himself. 'To protect her!' a voice in the back of his mind squeaked out in a feeble attempt to defend his rashly decided actions. All he knew that night after he left Abby at the bar was that he was consumed with the feeling of losing all sense of control and that lost control made him dangerous. So, as he repeatedly told himself that he was shielding her from having to experience any more physical and emotional harm, he packed a bag that was meant to only get him through a week max.

Nearly three and a half weeks later and he still hadn't returned home to their apartment.

Jabbing a little too hard at the button on the coffee machine, he watched his fourth cup of the day trickle down into the last remaining clean mug in the breakroom. The OCD soldier in him was vying to take control over his hands and begin washing the mess of cups in the sink, but the rest of him fought back, too worn out to care to do so.

"Everybody listen up!" He heard his boss's voice call out. Mechanically walking back to his desk, steaming cup of coffee in his hand, he lowered himself back down into his chair to hear what Voight had to say. "The case is being kicked down to Narcotics. So, once you're done with your paperwork, go home and enjoy the next two days off with your families." The older man turned to walk back into his office, acting as if he didn't just give them the ultimate gift, but stopped after what appeared to be a second's thought. Somewhere behind him, Ruzek let out a low groan at the sight of the sergeant stopping; the young officer definitely thought Voight was going back on his words.

"Merry Christmas," Voight surprised them all by saying before stepping across the threshold to his office and slamming the door shut.

Christmas.

Having been in such a haze the past three and a half weeks, he could hardly believe that it was already December 23, that Christmas Day was two sleeps away. To be fair, he hadn't been in much of a "holiday spirit" lately, not with everything going on in his personal life.

All around him, his team was stuffing their arms into jackets and jamming hats onto their heads, desperate to get as much out of the next few days off as they could. In just under the blink of an eye, the whole bullpen cleared out until it was just him and Erin, who was still hunched over in deep concentration over her report.

Ignoring the temptation of watching her work like some kind of creep, he turned his attention towards his own computer and scanned through whatever it was that he had been working on prior to noticing how defeated Erin looked. He was shocked to see that he surprisingly managed to get everything typed up and that all he had left to do was electronically sign his name to officialize the report.

Doing so hastily, he submitted the document and began bundling up for the small trek out to where his car was parked in the back lot. December in Chicago was even more unforgiving than he was currently on himself.

"Uh, Merry Christmas Erin." The wish came out sounding awkward and forced and he was glad she didn't bother engaging with it. Did he even have the right anymore to talk to her about anything other than work? To wish her well? To bring up the one holiday she was looking forward to celebrating with him more than anything? She had told him that when they were curled up on their living room couch watching Home Alone after their Thanksgiving dinner at Voight's.

"You too," she mumbled, her eyes never leaving her computer. He felt his heart plummet at her insincerity, a feeling he chided himself for the whole way to his car. Did he really think that the mention of the holiday would have her forgetting all her negative feelings towards him? That all would be forgiven with the simple phrase and she'd jump up from her desk, give him a true smile, and enthusiastically wish him the same?

He was lucky she even bothered to say the two words she responded with.

The ride back to Will's was cold and miserable. Even with the heat blasting on high, it did not kick in soon enough to protect him against the ten degree temperature outside. And he was in no mood to turn on the radio and fill the silence with cheerful Christmas music—he was feeling too goddamn miserable for that.

Pulling into the visitor's spot in front of Will's apartment building, he leaned back in his seat and took a moment to enjoy the irony of the sign leering down at him. Visitor…that was all he was supposed to be. So why did it feel like he had all but moved in?

Shaking his head, he secured his badge and gun against his waist, exited his car, and stomped up the four flights of stairs to the apartment he had been crashing in since the night he left Erin with nothing more than an "I love you and I want to stay but I can't."

"Jay? That you?" Will's voice called out once he entered the apartment. "You're home early," the elder Halstead proceeded to add before receiving the confirmation that yes, it was him who walked through the door.

"Case got kicked down to narcotics, Voight let us dip once our reports were turned in," he explained while kicking his boots off and bending down to line them up perfectly along the wall. Their position was the only sort of order amongst Will's pile of running and work sneakers, loafers, and casual shoes.

"Well, that's good yeah?" Following his brother's voice into the kitchen, he chose to ignore the question and ask one of his own.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pots and pans were scattered all over the kitchen counters, which weren't that big to begin with, and what looked to be like a powdered substance covered about ninety percent of the hardwood floors.

"Trying to make Mom's Christmas cookies," Will explained, furiously mixing together whatever was in the bowl he was holding. "You know, the ones made out of the pistachio pudding and those uh, red things?"

"Cranberries," he asked incredulously, curious to know how his doctor brother didn't know what cranberries were called.

"Yeah! Cranberries!" Will exclaim, clearly pleased at now being able to attach name to the food. "Anyway, someone had the brilliant idea that all the doctors should participate in a cookie swap so, here I am." Will's tone of voice sounded like he thought the idea was anything other than brilliant, but he had to commend his brother for actually putting some effort into the task.

"You do know there's a pretty solid bakery down the street," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but the second someone mentioned Christmas cookies, I immediately starting craving Mom's." Will shrugged. "Took me a while to dig out the recipe, but I think I figured it out."

"You went to Dad's?" he asked apprehensively. A sour taste was always left in his mouth anytime his father was brought up and he didn't want anything to spoil the inklings of enjoyment he was getting at watching his older brother flounder around the kitchen.

"Kind of had to, that's where the recipe was," Will sarcastically replied. "Dad says hello by the way."

"No he doesn't," he scoffed. Will said nothing in return and turned back to his previous task of stirring up the concoction he put together inside of the mixing bowl.

Shrugging his jacket off his body and placing it on the chair next to him, he took a seat at the four person kitchen table and contented himself with watching his brother attempt to be a chef. Christmas music was playing softly in the background and he had just about gotten completely lost in the lyrics a female singer was belting out about having a Merry Christmas when Will's voice snapped him back to the present moment.

"That uh, that package you ordered for uh, well, you know, anyway, it was delivered today."

His heart beat immediately sped up because despite his brother's horrible description, he knew exactly what packaged had been delivered and who exactly it was for.

Wanting to do something that would make their first Christmas celebrated in their shared home memorable—in a good way—he had scoured the Internet one night looking for the perfect gift. Erin was exceptionally hard to shop for because not only was she a very simple person, she just didn't care about material things. She had chalked it up to something about being the product of the poor environment she grew up in because, even though the Voight's took her in and saved her from the desolate poverty she had been living in, they didn't have a whole ton of money either.

"We never went without," she explained to him one night. "We just learned to really appreciate what we had."

It was not long after that comment that she had gone to bed and he whipped out his personal laptop and began the search for the perfect gift. Clothes were out the question—she very rarely dressed up in anything other than jeans and some type of shirt or sweater—and new boots weren't the wow factor he was going for. He had just gotten her perfume for her birthday and buying her some sexy new set was more of a gift to him than it was for her. Unable to think of anything else, he decided that jewelry was the only solid option that would check off the most boxes on his list. Plus, Erin wore jewelry…not a whole ton of it, but enough for him to feel confident in his choice.

He scrolled various jeweler sites for hours until he came across a simple, gold heart locket with a solitaire diamond (conveniently her birthstone) set in the middle from Tiffany's. Not even caring to look at the price, Jay immediately began filling out the information needed for him to purchase it. As he typed in his credit card information—because no way in hell could he afford to put the necklace on his debit card—all he could think about was how much Erin would love this and his mother. Breakfast at Tiffany's was Katherine Halstead's favorite movie and she used to make him watch it with her every year on her birthday. The connection between the necklace and his mom was all he needed to justify the purchase; it'd be a way for him to give a piece of his past, of his mom, to Erin and he knew she'd love that more than anything.

"Where is it?" he asked hoarsely, unsure if he wanted to see the present he shipped to Will's place so that Erin wouldn't find it or not.

"I stuck it in your room…on the nightstand I think."

With a nod of his head, he silently excused himself from the kitchen. Walking into the guest room (he refused to refer to it as his room), he softly shut the door behind him and immediately sought out the delivery box the necklace had been delivered in. Will was wrong; the box had not been placed on the nightstand but rather on the bed.

Lowering himself down onto the quilt covered mattress, he reached out for the box with a shaky hand and tentatively started to tear it open until the brown cardboard was disposed of onto the floor and nothing but the iconic robin egg blue box was left in his hands.

Suddenly filled with the need to physically see the piece of jewelry he had been so excited to purchase, he gingerly lifted the lid off the box and popped open the case the necklace was sitting in.

Even in the dimly lit room, the small diamond sparkled and the gold glimmered. Small, simple, and delicate, he once again knew without a doubt that he had picked out the perfect present. Lifting the piece of jewelry out from its constraints, he turned it over and read over the small engraving that he added to make sure that the gift was extra special…and non-returnable.

To Erin

You're my angel.

Love, Jay

Neither one of them were overly expressive people so he had been quite satisfied with what he had come up with. Short and sweet, the phrase recalled a time where she handed the keys to the GMC Sierra over to him, which in his mind, was the ultimate expression of her love for him.

Tears pricked at his eyes and the longer he stared at the necklace, the more fervent their threats to fall became.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, they weren't supposed to end up like this. He should not be sitting in his brother's guest room, holding back tears, and looking down at the gift wondering if he should even bother to give it to her or not. He should be in their home and coming up with the perfect way to give it to her.

'You have to give it to her,' his mind ordered, making sure to include quick flashes of the price he had just finished off paying. 'She deserves to get something nice for Christmas.'

Sniffling a little, he turned his head away from the now closed box to check the time.

6:42 the clock read. Late enough that she'd be home but early enough that she would still be awake and in a cognitive state.

Before he could think anything else on the matter, before he could second guess himself and chastise him for thinking this was an acceptable idea, he bolted from the room and the apartment, the robin egg blue box grasped firmly in his hand.

The drive to her…their…her apartment was a blur. He must have broken about a dozen rules of the road and most definitely was the reason that a few cars decided to lay on their horns in anger. He didn't care though, the second he slowed down to actually think about what he was doing, he'd turn around and go straight back to Will's and drown out the memory of the night's potential with the bottle of scotch he picked up to give his brother for Christmas the other day.

His feet acted all on their own as they lead him up to room 314 and so did his hands as they curled into fists and knocked hardly on the cream colored door. He had a key, but he figured Erin would be more receptive to his presence if he didn't barge in like he still lived there.

Just as he was about ready to give up knocking and go back to Will's, the door slowly creaked open and one of Erin's beautiful hazel eyes appeared through the crack.

"Jay?" Her voice rasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, can I come in?" he asked, not wanting to do this in the hallway where he was sure the nosy neighbors would try and watch them. "Please?"

No words were exchanged as she opened the door wider as a means of accepting his request.

Busying himself with scanning around the place he had called home for just under a year, he missed her hopeful glance towards his hands fall when she realized that, barring the small box, they were empty.

"What are you doing here Jay?" She repeated, her voice sounding every bit defeated as she looked earlier. It broke his heart.

Sweeping his eyes across the apartment space and seeing that it looked just as it did the night he left, he turned to her with sad eyes. Ignoring her question, he simply stated, "You don't have a tree."

He watched as her eyes flitted over to the spacious area in front of the large windows. That was where they planned to put their tree.

"Yeah I uh, didn't see the need to get one I guess," she shrugged hopelessly. "Plus, we've been so busy at work I, I didn't have the time."

"But you love Christmas trees," he reminded her as he thought back to all the times she used to make him stop to take pictures in front of the ones the city set up downtown. He thought her obsession with the holiday staple was a bit much until she told him that they were the one thing Bunny used to always make sure she and Teddy had each Christmas season.

"No matter how drugged out she was or where we were, she found a way to get us a tree," she had said. "There were never any presents under it, but I always found the tree to be enough of a present."

"Jay, what are you doing here," she asked for the third time, apparently not enjoying him stating the obvious. "Are you here for the rest of your stuff? Or…" Or are you here to move back home? The words hung over them ominously and rather than addressing them, Jay reached around her and plucked her coat off of the wrack nailed into the wall.

"Put this on," he demanded. All the trust in him that had built up over the four years of their partnership had her complying without so much of an utterance as to why he was asking her to do such a thing. "We are getting you a Christmas tree." He supplied, knowing that he was already treading on thin ice with her tonight.

"Jay, Christmas is literally two days away, I don't think we are going to find a tree," she pointed out, an incredulous look on her face.

"We're getting you a tree," he stated firmly. "I will not be the reason you don't have a tree this Christmas."

The lacking response confirmed what he had been thinking all along: he was the reason she didn't get a tree because that was something they swore this year they would do this year together.

Erin grumbled the entire time that they were in his car. "Your heat sucks," was what she said the most. Each time she said it, the comment was followed by "We should have taken my car" and then "We're never going to find a damn tree anyway."

He initially planned on ignoring her, but the more she complained, the harder it was for him to resist biting back with a few comments of his own.

"What the hell are we doing here?" She exclaimed as he pulled off of the road and into a parking lot. "They don't sell Christmas trees at Target!"

"Maybe not real ones," he supplied coolly, about at his wits end with her complaining. "But I am sure we can find a decent fake one that will give off the same effects as a real one."

"Fake ones don't smell," she immediately shot back.

"Then we'll light a couple of those tree smelling candles you have."

He watched out of the corner of his eye how she recoiled at his suggestion. A fake tree and candles were not the Christmas tree experience she had come to know, love, and treasure, but even she must know that finding a real Christmas tree on December 23 that didn't require them to drive hours out of the city to cut down themselves was impossible.

Begrudgingly, she got out the car and stalked off towards the store without so much as a glance back in his direction. Reminding himself that it was a small miracle she even chose to come with him at all, Jay took off after her while praying to God, Jesus, and every single saint he could think of that they'd be able to find her some kind of a Christmas tree. He had no clue how to fix them and their problems, but getting her a tree was something—the only thing—he knew how to fix.


This is an idea that has been floating around in my head since my work started to play Christmas music 24/7. It will be 2, no more than 3 chapters long and I hope you like it.