Halstead felt absolutely nothing. His gaze was lost. His heart was beating. He was okay physically, but mentally and emotionally, he's far from fine. He'd need to be admitted into a psych-ward for treatment to bring him out of this funk. He feels stuck. He feels like he has to actively remind himself to breathe because no part of him wanted to do that anymore. He rapidly blinks and it forces the building tears to fall and drag down his face. He doesn't make out the voices around him. He doesn't make out their figures either. He remains on the floor, eyes glazed over and body shutting down in an effort to protect itself. It was all hitting him all of a sudden, everything in the last few minutes; they were late, they were so close but it wasn't good enough. Ash is gone. Erin isn't here which can only mean she's with him. And if she's with him, that means she's gone in every sense of that word. How do you go on from that? From losing the love of your life in such a traumatic way…Is this how Voight felt after Camille was killed?
Jay covers his mouth when he finds himself tempted to throw up whatever he managed to scarf down hours ago. He felt arms grab him and pull him up to his feet. It was the quick flash of distinguishable features that allowed him to place who had been the two to pull him up. It was Ruzek and Atwater, both holding a side of him and guiding him upstairs to whatever room his brother had disappeared into in order to assist Voight and Justin with Rixton. Jay felt his chin tremble first, but no tears dropped until he spotted Rixton, struggling to keep his eyes open. Tears fell suddenly and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop them. He was inconsolable.
His stomach turned as he glanced around the room, taking in the sight of everything his wife probably saw before Ash took her from him. Jay swallows and it hurts way more than it should; there's a knot tightening in his throat that he tries to swallow through again. His stomach turns again because of the amount of grief and pain he knew took place in this room, even before Erin, he knew many lives were lost in this place. He could feel how evil this house truly was and if this is where Ivy grew up, she didn't have a chance but to turn out the way she did. Jay covers his mouth again and races over to the opened window when he feels bile rise up his throat. He leans out and is disgusted by how the intense grief he was feeling caused for him to puke out a window.
The fresh air feels good, it feels amazing and he wishes it could clear his head but all he seeks and thinks about is her. He's never felt a pain this big. It was excruciating. It was tearing his heart apart. His insides hurt so much that he just wanted to rip himself open to relieve himself of the pain. It was too much for any person to handle and Jay couldn't imagine the pain Voight and Justin were currently experiencing. He didn't pay attention to them when he entered the room but he did notice that he didn't hear their voices at all. He pulled his head out of the window and glanced over his shoulder to see Voight standing alone in a separate corner and Justin pacing behind him.
"I'm sorry," Jay whispered to his forever brother-in-law because regardless of how this night ends, they were family; that's something Erin would have wanted to remain, "I'm so sorry," his lip trembles again and Justin pats him on the shoulder and whispers, "I'm sorry too."
"I always thought," Jay swallows through that tightened knot again, this time it hurt even more, "I thought I'd feel it if she was truly gone but I don't, I feel like she's still here and maybe that's denial but I always thought I would feel my heart physically shatter if he killed her."
In the back of his mind, Jay focuses on Will ordering Atwater to call an ambulance. Rixton needed immediate surgery to remove the bullets that didn't go completely through but in the meantime his brother was stabilizing him to the best of his ability. Jay turned away from Rixton and faced the window again; he couldn't look at him anymore. A part of him irrationally blamed Kenny for not protecting Erin, what's the point in being stuck with a cop if the cop can't even protect you? Jay leans his head back out of the window, desperately needing the fresh air before his emotions led to him passing out. He shut his eyes and pictured Erin, wanting to reach out and touch her, hoping that she didn't suffer and thought of him in her final moments rather than a crazed serial killer.
Jay's hands rested against the windowsill and the more he thought of Ash, then Ivy, then Rixton and then back to Ash again, the more he circled his hands into fists and clenched them. His nails dug into the palms of his hands so hard that if he kept it up it'd break skin. He felt a hand against his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Justin there, offering him comfort. And Jay feels selfish as he accepts it, as he craves and needs it. Justin loved Erin, had known her all of her life and he was here comforting the man she married. It wasn't fair. None of this was; none of them deserved this, especially not Erin. Hadn't she suffered enough? This couldn't have been her purpose in life, to just live and suffer. She had eleven blissful years and then suddenly had to grow up overnight. She battled weight loss, insomnia, suicidal thoughts, an attempt, nightmares, flashbacks, nerve pain, grief and so much more just for her story to end like this. It wasn't fucking fair.
He opens his hands and then clenches them into fists again. He tries to steady his breathing but the more he thought about just how unfair life fucking is, the more he wanted to punch a hole through the nearest wall. Jay leans back against the windowsill, poking his head out of the opened window to get air, to clear his mind. And the second a shrill breeze blows through the night, he forces himself to take a deep breath, inhaling it in and making every effort to pocket the pain he's feeling until they are free from this house. Jay looks down the second his hands drop from the frame of the window to the ledge and he feels something wet, something that looks a lot like blood. His brows frown when he takes a confusing glance over his shoulder to see just how far Rixton is sitting from the window. He raises his hand to take a look closer and this time when he leans forward to stick his head as far outside as he can possibly push it, he looks down at the ground, judging the drop, "Is Rixton awake? Is he conscious?"
Everyone hears the tone in Jay's voice and turns to face him. Voight steps closer, confusion evident on his face because he wants to understand the eagerness behind Jay's tone. Rixton sat chained up, head lolled forward, in and out of consciousness since the fourth bullet tore through his chest. He was alive, barely breathing, but he was alive. He felt Will check his pulse, once against his neck and the second time against his wrist. He could hear talking around him but he couldn't make out what was being said. Jay moved towards the team, flipping his hand over so his palm faces upwards to show them his hand, "It's blood and it's on that window," his thumb points over his shoulder at the one window in the bedroom, "and Rixton is too far for it to be his and if it was blood splatter from him being shot, it wouldn't have been at that angle. It would have been on the inside of the house, not the top of the window ledge."
"What are you saying, Jay?" It's Justin that asks. And he knows exactly what Halstead is implying but he needs to hear the words. He needs to make sure his hopes are legitimate.
"I'm saying I think that's Erin's blood. I doubt it's Ash's blood and I'm positive it isn't Kenny's."
"…but that doesn't mean she survived that shot," Upton is the voice of rationality in a room full of detectives, "and the window is opened," she now pokes her head outside of it, "and since there's blood dripping from right here," she points to the window ledge outside, "it would suggest that if she did get shot, she fell outside. It's not a big drop but she isn't there and neither is Ash."
Halstead doesn't have time for this. He has a hunch. He pushes through everyone to run out of the room, hearing feet trying to catch up with him as he goes down the stairs and out of the house. He goes to the spot below the window where she would have landed if she fell and when he stoops down, he notices smudges and drops of what looks to be blood, "It's more blood."
"If it belonged to Ash, he'd still be here. I doubt his old ass would survive that drop," Ruzek says in his effort to be helpful.
"…okay so if Erin fell, where is she now?"
Jay nods to acknowledge he heard Upton's question. He stands up and straightens his back before taking another look around, "You said it yourself it's not a big drop," Upton prepares to open her mouth to dispute but he keeps talking, "It's a chance she got up and escaped…maybe she ran into the woods, it has to be miles of it surrounding this house."
"It's not a big drop but it'd definitely leave the average person a little banged up and that's assuming the average person didn't get shot first."
Halstead could feel his air of optimism, of hope that the feeling he had inside of him that his wife was still alive starting to deflate. His shoulders dropped because far in the back of his mind, he knew she was right, rationally speaking, but Erin isn't your average person, she's tough, she's strong and until he saw a fucking body, he has to believe she's alive and breathing.
"Guys," Jay swivels around to find Justin a few feet away, stooped low near Ash's vehicle, "Come here," he waves them all closer and they come running, "gunshots to the tires and they deflated and look," he stands up to point to the driver's side window, "the glass is broken and the steering column is yanked out. Ash has a key; he wouldn't need to break into his own car and try to hotwire it. Erin did this. That means…" he blows out a relieved breath, "that means she survived the gunshot and the fall from the window and tried to get away."
"…but then where is she?" Ruzek exclaimed. Now his nerves were increasing because if she's alive then that gives them another chance to save her. They just needed to know where to find her.
"Like Jay said," Voight started, unholstering his weapon, "the forest, he took out the tires and she had no choice but to run. My bet is he followed her and the both of them are in the woods somewhere so that means we need to separate and find her. Turn down the volume of your radio but do not turn it off. If anyone lays eyes on Erin or Ash, radio it in. Jay, Justin, the two of you are with me this way, you three," he nods towards Upton, Atwater and Ruzek, "that way, and do not get separated. Olinsky will stay with Will and Rixton. No one returns until they have Ash in custody and Erin with them. Stay safe and keep your weapons unholstered. It's safe to assume that Ash is armed but we don't know with what exactly. Keep your eyes open and your ears alert. This is his territory so he's at the advantage; he's been living here for decades, keep that in mind."
They will be able to cover more ground splitting up and searching. The team separates, each armed, loaded and taking careful steps into the forest, utilizing the silence surrounding them to listen out for voices or odd sounds from nature. There is no sense in calling out her name because if Erin truly did escape into the forest, then that meant Ash wouldn't be too far behind. If Erin heard them calling out for her, then chances are that Ash would too. Jay moved through the unclear path in the forest, remaining on alert as he whispered under his breath, "Hold on Erin," he tells himself over and over again, "we're coming, just hold on."
Erin doesn't hear the real Jay but the one that is a figment of her imagination stands before her, with his hand outstretched, as he motions for her to come closer. Erin is mesmerized by the sight of him, by the warm glow radiating off his broad shoulders. Her lips stretch into a wide grin as both her arms extend forward, hoping her hands would reach him first, "Jay," she whispers; her eyes fill with tears and she feels a lump form in her throat, "You're here." He says nothing to her; his hand drops to his side and he turns away from her, "…wha-wait!" She shouts, forgetting for a moment that she is supposed to stay quiet. Ash could have heard her; it could have directed him in her direction. None of that comes to mind as she attempts to pick up speed to get to him.
She doesn't get it. She sees him walking away from her, his back to her and he doesn't even bother looking back, or checking up on her or even asking if she's okay. He merely walks until so much distance is between them that he disappears, leaving Erin alone once again. Her arms drop, her hands shake at her sides and her legs start to quiver. Every part of her is ready to give up from exhaustion alone. Her one chance of hope, one semblance of peace had disappeared before she even had the chance to touch him. Her chest heaves, it rises up and down with every breath that deepens. Erin hunches over, hands falling to her knees in an effort to catch her breath. She shuts her eyes closed, squeezing them tightly in an effort to clear her vision and her mind. It's playing a sick joke on her, seeing a hallucination of her husband when she needs him the most is some sick jest her body is playing on her. It's betraying her in every sense of the word.
From the wound steadily bleeding, to the pain worsening in her ankle and to the small lacerations to her arms and face, her physical pain and wounds will eventually cause her color to fade, her vision to blur and her body to succumb to the loss of blood. The side of her shirt is drenched, soaked in fresh blood still spilling from her opened wound and if she doesn't get it treated in the next hour or two, she may die from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Erin coughs, chest rumbling and airway refusing to clear up. She straightens her stance and takes a look around, searching for what, she does not know yet, she's hoping that it'll stand out when she sees it. She needs to move.
Erin could feel the sweat excessively build up and run down her forehead. With each stumbling step forward, she tries to go over her symptoms in her muddled head. She's sweating profusely and that isn't a good thing because it's really cold outside. Based on the drenched fabric of her nursing scrubs, she can tell she's bleeding a lot. It's only on one side which must be a weird sight to see. Half her top is bloody and the other half only has dabs of blood that got there from the touch of Erin's fingers that was transferred there after she assessed her injury earlier. She feels the severe fatigue set in which has her stumbling through bushes instead of walking around them. Maybe that's what caused the hallucinations, the severe fatigue and the tiredness, lack of sleep mixed with the blood loss. She's not in her right state of mind to be diagnosing herself, but she knows that whatever the diagnosis is, it's playing tricks on her mind, on her ability to run and her ability to think about the next step in her last-minute plan.
She sees a headlight again and she hopes this is real. It's close. And that can only mean she's close to a road, she's close to help. Erin begins waving her arm in the air despite the fact that it's dark and no one will see it. She continues to wave it as another root trips her up and sends her falling down to her hands and knees. Not even bothering to push herself up because she's literally inches away, she crawls forward and embraces the smile on her lips when her hand touches gravel. This is good, this means something, this means she made it to the road. And now she pushes herself up to stand on the side of the empty road, darkened by the fact that there are no street lights on the winding path. She drags her feet forward, choosing whichever direction based on no facts or evidence because she has no idea where she is or which way to go.
Erin brings her hand up to her shoulder and clenches it around the front of her shoulder where the wound exited since the exit wound is always larger than the entrance one. This is where she is losing most of the blood and if she can slow it down some, it'll give her a fighting chance. She pushes forward, the soles of her shoes making a screeching noise as it slides against the pavement, she loses her attention to it, focusing on that rather than on the walk, that is until another pair of headlights blind her for a moment after snapping her back into focus. She shoots her injured arm up into the air, hoping that the headlights provide the driver with enough light to see her. And when she suddenly hears screeching, coming from the car instead of her shoes, she smiles because she knows he did. He saw her. He's stopping for her. He's stepping out of his car. She can finally take a break and not force herself to be so strong because help is finally here.
The second he gets close enough to take in her sunken eyes, pale complexion and the amount of blood on her sleeve, he springs into action, rushing forward, "Shit, what happened?"
"Help," her voice was weak; she doesn't even know if he heard or understood her, "Help me…please help me." She uses her arm to cover her mouth as she coughs, "I need your help."
His hands circle around her arms to hold her up right, "How did you get out here? Where did you come from? Are you…are you okay?"
"Phone," she managed to cough out, "I need to see your phone." She was out of breath and just in case he already couldn't tell, she adds, "It's an emergency."
She needs to call her dad. She needs to call Jay. She needs to call her brother. She needs to call for an ambulance. It's after the time she's supposed to be dead and she needs to tell them that she's alright. She needs them to know not to give up, that she's still out here, that she's alive.
"Where did you come from? Who hurt you?" The guy rushes back to his car, reaching inside to grab his phone and pulling it out, "I'll call you an ambulance." She doesn't object to that because she needs one right now, however, the second his finger presses against the nine, she notices a dark silhouette behind him and because she couldn't muster the energy and the breath to warn him, the knife goes into his back from behind. She can't stay. She can't leave him either. But, she's in no shape to fight Ash off and she'd be naive to even think she has a chance of winning.
Erin hears the man shout for her to go and she listens. She goes back into the forest, hoping the darkness of the trees blocking out the moonlight will be to her advantage. She tries to run but it becomes an absolute train wreck when she stumbles forward, fortunately, she catches herself on the branch of a nearby tree. She has no sense of time. She has no sense of direction. She hears Ash a distance away, he isn't trying to be quiet and based off the tone of his voice, he seems to be enjoying the chase, "You can run all you want, Erin!" He's definitely finding pleasure in all of this, "I'm going to find you! You have my word!"
And she believed him. He knew this area better than anyone else.
Erin couldn't focus on that right now. She needed to pay attention to where she was going, she needed to focus on pushing through the pain coursing down the side of her body and up her leg. She didn't know what direction she's running in. She doesn't recognize anything. Every tree looked alike. The land surrounding his home was expansive; it spread across acres. It's no telling how far it'll be to get to his nearest neighbor's house. She doesn't even know if she's going in the opposite direction, for all she knows, she could be heading back towards his house. But, heading in a direction is better than not heading in any. Erin made it this far, she refused to not allow herself to make it any farther. Her hand went back to covering her wound and based on the continuous flow of blood, it didn't feel as if it was slowing down. She wanted to expect the injury again, but she didn't have time. She'd just have to hope and pray that it wasn't as bad as it currently felt. She pressed her eyes shut, took in a deep breath and pushed forward, unbeknownst to her until minutes later, she's approaching the house she had escaped from at least an hour ago.
Erin came to an abrupt stop when the full realization set in. She traveled in a complete circle. She ran off in the wrong direction. And now she was once again standing in front of Ash's house. A small part of her was tempted to just sit on his porch and wait for his return. She was already in a lot of pain; he'll just put her out of it.
The front door was wide open. And she was tempted to walk up the porch stairs and enter, hide out and treat her wound because Ash wouldn't expect for her to seek shelter in his home. She considers doing that, at least until her eyes sweep the lawn, noting the additional trucks parked crookedly out front. She recognizes the license plates, she recognizes the darkened lights above, she recognizes the make and model and every part of her wants to sigh in relief but a smaller part of her feels as if it's just another figment of her hopes, of her dreams, of her imagination.
Erin pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear as she approaches the nearest truck and when her hand slides along the door, giving the handle a tug only to find out it's locked, she smiles in relief. It's real. Her smile stretches across her face and if she wasn't so injured, she'd jump up and down. The front door is probably open because they're inside of it. She thought it was open because Ash had left it open in his haste to get to her.
"Jay," Erin whispered under her breath and in her excitement to get to him, she jogs with a limp, ignoring the sharp stings shooting through her ankle every time her foot presses down onto the ground. She uses the railing to help herself up and when she pushes further into the house, she's met with silence. Erin doesn't hear a word or a step and now she starts to second guess whether she actually felt the handle of the truck outside.
She was going to leave back out, knowing that she didn't have long and to stay in place provides a greater risk for Ash to find her. She was prepared to leave, even turning her body towards the door when she remembers Kenny, she remembers leaving him upstairs and the sound of gunfire she heard after she dropped from the window. Erin whips back around and begins to hop towards the staircase just as she hears sirens in the background and his darkened house lights up with flashes of red, white and blue. More help is here. Erin ducks into a nearby room when the front door is pushed further open, she peeks out and her shoulders drop in relief at the sight of paramedics, she was right, more help is here, it wasn't a trick.
Rixton groaned in pain, eyes remained closed because they were too heavy to open. It would take too much energy to peel them open so they simply stayed shut. He felt pain all over; he knows he was shot but because the pain was everywhere, he couldn't pinpoint where exactly the bullets entered. Will rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and continued to apply chest compressions. He ordered for the detective that stayed behind, Olinsky, if he remembers his name correctly to continue applying pressure to the wounds. Rixton reopened his eyes when he felt the chest compressions make impact and jumpstart the beating of his heart. His eyes widened as Will moved to tie a folded pillowcase around the shot to his thigh. It stops the bleeding enough for them to focus on the other three wounds. He hears sirens in the background, he hears orders being shouted and he feels his body being set down upon a gurney.
Immediately the two paramedics get to work, stabilizing him, reaching into their go-bags in order to grab the tools needed to ensure he survives the commute to the nearest hospital. His eyes shoot open when he feels a surge of adrenaline rush through him along with the steady tapping of Will's hand to his cheek, "Hey, perfect, you're awake, I just need a yes or a no, is Erin alive?"
Rixton groans as a mask is set down to cover his nose and mouth. He tries to lift his hand to remove it but the loss of blood has him weak. Will sets his own hand on Rixton's arm, silently requesting for him to stay still, "Blink once for yes, blink twice for no."
Slowly, but surely, Rixton's eyes blink shut and then reopen and Will waits with bated breath to see if another blink follows. He sighs in relief when it doesn't. Rixton managed to use his last burst of energy to keep his eyes open so Will didn't mistake them shutting again as another blink. His body is lifted along with the gurney he is on and he's out, followed by no one but the paramedics.
"Do you know if she was hurt too badly after she fell? Does she have a chance of making it out there on her own? Do you know how bad her injuries are if she did fall?" He calls out after Rixton and the paramedics.
"I hope you're not actually expecting an answer," at the sound of her voice, Will's head whips around to face the familiar voice of his sister-in-law, "You're a doctor. You know how hard it is for him to answer one question, imagine how difficult it'd be for him to answer…how many did you just ask in a row? Three." Will races up to her, Olinsky close behind, and the both of them wrap their arms around her. For the first time in days, she allows her guard to drop and she crumbles in the arms of her brother-in-law, releasing a sob of relief.
The paramedics wheel Rixton out of the house, being mindful to keep quiet because a threat was still out there. And Olinsky goes over to the window, weapon drawn to watch their backs until the sirens are back on and the ambulance is driving away. Rixton is gone. He's being taken to the nearest hospital, which isn't Chicago Med, to receive the best care. Olinsky shuts the curtains before turning around to see Will pull out of the hug, hands holding her waist as he pressed his lips against her forehead, "Damn woman, you don't know how worried you had everybody."
"What-" her throat was scratchy so she cleared it, "What are you doing here? Why are you here?"
"…to rescue you silly," Will smiles, bringing her back in for a hug.
Olinsky rushes past them and shuts the door, locking it after he does before turning back to face Erin. She's alive. She doesn't look too well, far from it actually, but she's alive. Will couldn't stop the smile on his face, knowing that her presence alone will tilt the axis of his brother's life, will brighten the dark world he knows his brother had been living in. He can't wait for Jay to get back here. He can't wait for Jay to see her. And speaking of seeing her, Will finally does take in every part of her and the smile on his face suddenly drops as concern takes over his expression at the sight of her pale face and teary eyes. His gaze drops down to her neck, to the collar of her shirt before being drawn towards the blood smeared into the top of her nursing uniform. His gaze zeros in, searching without touching for the source of the bleeding but he doesn't get a chance to search for long when his gaze tears away after she whispers, "Will, I need to sit down. I don't-" Will reaches his hands out to steady her when she wobbles on her feet, "I don't feel so good."