Chapter 2: Gone Too Far

(Erin's P.O.V.)

The next day, Erin woke to the sound of her phone buzzing. She instantly cursed herself for not turning it off the night before. But instead of trying to answer it, she only patted the bed until she found another pillow and put it over her ears, beyond annoyed as her head was hurting enough already without the extra noise. When it eventually stopped ringing, Erin didn't even bother to see who had called her. Instead, she just yawned and clumsily removed the pillow, taking a careful look at her surroundings. She almost smiled a little at the thought of not having to sneak out of some stranger's apartment for once. Almost. She was in her own bed, not remembering how she even got here. She was all alone and struggling to decide if this was a good or a bad thing to be alone with her thoughts for the first time in weeks.

She slowly managed to hoist herself up into a sitting position and glanced at the clock on her nightstand with tired eyes. It was almost 3 in the afternoon. Groaning exasperatedly, she got out of bed, trying not to trip over the clothes on the floor, and shuffled to the bathroom to freshen up a bit.

Erin avoided looking in the mirror above the sink as she stripped out of her underwear and stepped in the shower. When the hot water made contact with her sore body, she winced a bit but soon, she noticed how the warmth soothed her aching muscles a little. She stood there for over half an hour, too exhausted and lazy to get out. But then her stomach growled rather loudly and she decided she could check her fridge for some food. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten, so it was really no surprise that she felt like she was about to throw up. Again, she avoided the mirror as she got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself.

She quickly threw on the first clean shirt and pants she found in her closet and headed to her living area, her damp hair softly falling on her shoulders. Her headache was bothering her more and more, so she made her way straight to her coat on the couch. She rummaged through the pockets until she found what she was looking for: a small plastic baggie with a small amount of yellow-ish powder in it. The fastest way to numb any pain, she thought. Currently, it was her best friend.

Soon, the baggie was empty and she let out a deep breath, already looking forward to the familiar high. She turned around to her kitchen remembering her initial thought of finding something to eat, when she noticed the box on her kitchen counter. Curious despite herself, Erin approached it and opened it with her cold fingers. It was her stuff from her locker at the district. Her heart skipped a beat and then started pounding twice as fast. She looked around her apartment and took in once again how clean it was now. She figured the same person must've brought her stuff in here. She didn't really care about the box and the few belongings in it, but the knowledge that somebody had been in here made her uncomfortable. Especially since she had a pretty good guess who it might have been, since exactly two people had a spare key to her apartment.

She was about to finally head over to the fridge when she noticed the small piece of paper on the counter next to the box. Hesitantly, she stepped a little closer and recognized it immediately. It was Voight's card. The exact same card he had given her when she was just a teenager. She froze on the spot and inevitably remembered the day she had called him for help, the day that had changed her life.

"Finally!"

Charlie immediately looked up when 15-year-old Erin opened the door to their small, messy apartment. Her pale face lit up a little when she saw him casually sitting on the shabby couch with a beer in his hand.

"Where the hell have you been, Erin?" he asked, annoyance evident in his deep voice. "I've been here for over an hour."

"That's none of your business," she simply replied, putting her hands in the pockets of her torn black jeans as she sat down on the armrest and put her bag on the floor.

"Excuse me?" Charlie looked like he was about to jump up from his seat. "I'm busting my ass off at my crappy new job – for both of us by the way– and then I get home and-"

"Geez," Erin interrupted. "Relax, man. I'm sorry." She held up her hands in defense, taking in the three empty beer bottles to his feet with a frown.

"Whatever," he mumbled, his anger forgotten momentarily. "So, where is the stuff? Come on, girl."

He leaned forward and tried to take her backpack that hung from her shoulder on one strap but she quickly stood up, holding it out of his reach. Confused and also irritated, he stared at her, but Erin averted her eyes.

"Look, Charlie," she began and nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I...couldn't get you what you wanted."

"You what?" he exclaimed. "I said I needed more today!"

"I know!" Erin met his eyes and instantly regretted it. "And I'm sorry. But since, you know, that Langston cop knows about our spot now and I'm sure he could tell Voight all about it, I gotta be more careful. You of all people should get that!"

"You serious, Erin? Since when do you care about cops?" Charlie got to his feet now, the beer still in his hand.

"Hey, I tried to get it but it wasn't safe," she reasoned, desperation dripping from her every word. "I can't have Voight on my tail again. I can't screw things up with him. We need the extra cash."

She internally cringed at her own lie. The truth was, she felt like she owed him. Detective Voight had caught her selling drugs on the street a couple months ago but he hadn't arrested her. She wasn't sure why but she felt like she didn't want to disappoint him. She had never told Charlie about this, though. He only knew she gave that cop some intel from time to time, for cash.

"I'm meeting up with him next week again and I don't plan on doing so in handcuffs. I gotta be careful with him - you know that!" She took a deep breath to calm herself but continued before Charlie could say anything, "But I'll go get some later tonight. I told you about that guy who owes me big time? Roland? I'll see him tonight, promise."

With that, Erin grabbed her backpack and pulled out a bottle of tequila to show him.

"For now, I thought we could just do some shots." She gave him a small smile, hoping he'd drop the issue for now. But she watched as his face turned an alarming shade of red making him look like he was about to explode.

"Are you freakin' kidding me, Erin? That money wasn't meant for freakin' booze! You keep using me, damn it! When I think about the crap you and Annie pulled this summer-"

"I know, I screwed up again but as I said-" but she was cut off.

"No! I'm tired of this!" He forgot all about the bottle in his hand and dropped it before grabbing her arms, pushing her back until she was pinned against the wall. She was tiny compared to him and too stunned by his outburst to fight back.

"I'm so sick of being the idiot who always takes the rap for your screw ups!" His screwed up face was mere inches from hers as he tightened his grip on her upper arms and squeezed her against the wall.

"Charlie! What the hell, man?" With all her might, Erin managed to kick him in the gut with her boot and he finally let go. He tumbled backward, holding his mid-section.

"That's it, girl," he mumbled, more to himself than anything else.

In a matter of seconds, he was back in front of her, his arm raised and all she could do was close her eyes before his fist made contact with her cheek. Erin was sent flying against the wall, hitting her head in the process. Her vision was blurry for a moment and her knees started to buckle as she slid down to the floor. She struggled to get up but she already saw Charlie approaching her again. She stumbled back to the door, but it was no use. Charlie grabbed her left wrist and pulled her towards the couch.

"Let go, Charlie!"

She managed to yank her arm free and escaped his grip once again but he picked up an empty beer bottle from the floor and threw it in her direction. Erin tried to duck behind a chair but the bottle hit her shoulder nevertheless. She yelped in pain and almost fell down but she somehow managed to stay upright at the last second. Ignoring the sharp pain pulsing through her arm, she ran for the door again and this time, she was quicker than Charlie and got out. She hurried down the stairs - tripping and falling every few steps - until she reached the main door and ran out of the building.

She kept walking through the streets at a high pace, afraid that Charlie might follow her. But when the pain got too overwhelming, tears started to form in her eyes. She didn't allow them to actually fall, though. Instead, she hid in the nearest alley and leaned against the cold wall. She took a couple of deep breaths and brought a hand to her aching shoulder, wincing. She figured it was best to assess the damage first before she decided what to do next. So, she slowly began to remove her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt to reveal hand-shaped marks on both her arms, still an angry shade of red. She brought a hand to her face and carefully touched her cheek and lip. It came away a little bloody and she could already feel a slight swelling under her right eye. As for her shoulder, it looked like she had been hit by a truck, not a beer bottle. There was a large, purple area around her collarbone already and she prayed to the God she didn't believe in it wasn't broken. She couldn't afford a visit to the doctor. But she knew a guy who might give her an opinion on this tomorrow. For now, all she could do was try not to move her left arm too much.

As she continued down the street, hiding her face as best as she could in the hood of her jacket while still holding her bruised shoulder, Erin couldn't get the image of Charlie's face out of her head. She had seen him upset before on countless occasions, had watched him beat up a couple guys, but he had never seriously hurt her. Sure, he had slapped her among other things after finding out about Sandoval, but honestly, she'd deserved that one. But this? She couldn't believe this had really happened. The tears that had formed in her eyes threatened to fall. He said he loved her. And she, the idiot that she was, had believed every word.

The emotions she had tried so hard to suppress surfaced and a lone tear rolled down her bruised cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand, afraid that someone might have caught her moment of vulnerability. She couldn't show any sign of weakness. Where she came from, the weak never got very far. There was simply no space for that if you wanted to survive in this part of the city, this part of society.

Night started to fall over Chicago and young Erin was still wandering around, lost, hurt and with nowhere to go. After another two blocks, the sharp pain in her shoulder made her search for somewhere to rest. She sat on an empty bench next to a long-abandoned candy shop, wincing, and closed her eyes. She had reached a point where she had not one single person in her life that she could turn to. Annie had her own problems, she didn't even know if her mom was still alive, her brother was god knows where and Charlie had just beat her up.

This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how the rest of her life would look like. All she had ever done was cause trouble or deal with the crap that other people threw at her. Hell, the one person that had ever treated her like a decent human being was a cop. The rest of the world saw her as another worthless piece of trash the Chicago streets had to offer.

And in that moment, the small piece of paper in her jacket grew heavier than ever. With trembling fingers, she pulled out the card and inspected it for the millionth time. She read the name over and over again. Detective Henry Voight. There was also his number. Voight had given it to her about four months ago. She had kept the card all this time but she would never admit that she had thought about calling him before. But the truth was, she had. She had wondered if he could really make a difference. She had asked herself if he was right with what he said, if she could do better. He had offered to help her, whenever she was ready to accept a little guidance.

She needed to get away from all this crap. From Charlie. She had never felt safe in her entire life but now she felt truly lost. So she made a decision. She stood and headed down the streets until she came to a halt in front of the next payphone. She stood there in the cold for about 15 minutes, trying to convince herself that she was about to do the right thing. She had obviously never been a fan of cops. In fact, she had spent most of her short life running from them, but Voight wasn't like the others. He was her only shot at changing her life. Again, she was shaking - the cold, her pain and her inner conflict were simply too much to handle - and yet she pulled out a few coins and soon found herself listening to a familiar beeping sound, waiting for him to pick up the phone.

Back in her kitchen, 30-year-old Erin took the battered card from the counter with shaking hands and stared at it for a moment. Basically, she held the ticket to the other side in her hands. And she had used it before. But the thing was, she had gone too far this time. She didn't deserve her old life back. It wasn't safe for the ones around her. Wherever she went, she left a trail of destruction and messed up lives. Nadia was just the most recent example among many. That girl had been Erin's attempt to give something back to the world. She had wanted to give her the same chance Hank had given her all those years ago. But see where her help had gotten Nadia.

Erin had spent the past weeks, ever since they'd returned from New York, trying to wrap her mind around the whole Nadia thing. But no matter how hard she tried to listen to the others, to Platt and Jay, to Hank - she always came to the same conclusion. It was her fault that bad things kept happening to the ones around her.

But Erin's thoughts started to get fuzzier as the effect of the painkillers she had just taken was starting to kick in. And she was so glad it did because she didn't want to deal with this right now. She just wanted an escape. And as her head started to hurt less, her thoughts stopped spinning and her whole body started to feel lighter, she dropped the card carelessly to the ground and shuffled over to her phone. Automatically, she dialed a number she had become very familiar with, not thinking about it for one second. Then she sat down on the couch, waiting for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Landon."