Hello all, here is another story and this is a Bridget story. For those of you who don't know I sometimes write stories of Hank having a daughter called Bridget mainly because I can't write her as any other name. None of the stories that I have written with the character of Bridget Voight interact with each other, they are stand alone stories and are not related in any way.
This one came to me after I was re-watching Season 2 and the second Law and Order SVU Crossover. Teddy (who is never mentioned again after this crossover btw) does not exist.
Couple of things, firstly this story does not intend to depict Hank as an alcoholic who hates his kids. The point of this chapter and his actions is to show just how strongly grief can sweep you away. This story also has flashbacks from present time to the past and might dive into Season 1 just for a minute but the bulk of this story is Season 2.
Secondly this story is riddled with TRIGGERS, rape, sex trafficking, substance abuse, violence, suicidal intentions and swearing. If ANY of this TRIGGERS you then PLEASE be aware.
I have published another Chicago PD story alongside this one, this is not a Bridget story but a Hank and Jay based one, please feel free to give that a look if you want to.
Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.
Spelling and grammar are not my strongest point.
I have tried to make this as accurate as I can in terms of age as well.
This story is also AU so while some parts of the Season 2 and a little bit of Season 3 will be accurate other parts won't be.
Please Read and Review and Please let me know what you think.
And on a side note, I like so many other Fanfiction Authors no longer receive notifications via email about reviews/PMs etc. So if you do send any it might be a while, if ever before I get back to you. Please keep that in mind for it is not intentional-If anyone has a fix please let me know.
Stand And Unfold Yourself
AU-BRIDGET VERSE-In Which Hank has a daughter called Bridget-Bridget Voight at eleven runs away after a fight with her Dad and is never seen again, five years later Kelly Severide finds a box of photos. In New York, Olivia Benson finds a bloodbath and Hank Voight finds out that the nightmare is not over just beginning. (AU of SVU Season 2 Crossover) SIGNIFICANT TRIGGER WARNIGNS.
Chapter 1-Into The Wildfire.
In which a fight is had and Bridget Voight goes missing, for her family the nightmare is just beginning. Pre-Series.
December 2010
It starts off small.
It always does these days Bridget thinks, she's eleven, her mother is dead and it's Christmas and she would have to be an idiot to think that there wasn't going to be a problem. This Christmas, the first Christmas without her Mom.
To be fair it's not Justin's fault either. He's angry these days and Erin goes with him and Bridget just cleans up after them the same way she cleans up after her Dad. She gets rid of beer bottles and vodka bottles, she cleans up the food and she makes sure that they don't fall asleep with cigarettes in their hands. She knows that they love her. Despite the way they all act—as if she's invisible—extendable—she knows that they love her. She knows it in her very bones but there are times, many of them in fact since her mother has died where she has to remind herself of that. Sometimes it feels like their family died with their Mom and she wants to curl up in a little ball at that thought but she can't cry. She's not cried the entire way through this she can't do it now. Erin cries a lot, Justin cries, her Dad's cries but Bridget doesn't.
But it's Christmas.
She loves Christmas. Christmas is her holiday, her and her Mom's and she remembers last year as Justin helps her get the decorations out and she thinks that she will have to ask Dad what he wants—and get help to cook it as well—when her Mom was bad and Aunt Meredith cooked for them and it was clear that this would be the last Christmas. It didn't dimmish the love that she had for the holiday, for Bridget, Christmas meant Mom and though Mom was gone it didn't mean that they couldn't have a Christmas. She would just have to be Mom for this…
A part of her thinks that's been Mom since Mom died. God knows without her she thinks they'd all starve.
But it starts off small.
She takes the day of school, considering it's the last day of term and Justin and Erin have a sporadic attendance at the best of times so she thinks she'll be okay. Her Dad is supposed to be out on a stakeout, (he's never here anymore) and she's just unwrapping the decorations when he staggers in.
She sighs.
He's drunk.
Again.
It's been five months and she's lost count of the number of times that he's come home drunk. When he doesn't come home she knows he's sober. Actually at this point she'd be amazed if he remembered her name.
"Bridge"
"Dad"
He staggers and catches himself on the side of the couch and then he heaves himself onto it. Bridget knows that there are only two options for what come next. Either he goes to sleep or it's blind rage. It's not the violent kind that has her ducking but it's a rage that's almost world weary kind. He's angry at the world, even at eleven she can understand that it's just she really doesn't need to deal with it. Not right now. Not today. Not when she's clinging on with everything she has. Everyone's been too involved in their own lives. She's been bobbing along all by herself.
"Dad" she says again but he's watching her and she's not sure what to make of it.
"What the fuck are you doing?
"Getting the Christmas decorations out"
"Why?"
"Because we always do it on the 20th. We get pizza and we decorate the tree. I was hoping you could get us one. Do you think you can—"
"Who the fuck said we were doing Christmas this year?"
She pauses.
"What do you mean?"
"Why the fuck would we celebrate Christmas when your Mom isn't here?"
She thinks carefully of the wrapped presents in her room that she got and she can feel something bubble in her that feels close to tears. Christmas is the one thing that has gotten her through these last few months and he's taking it away from her. She knows he is and she thinks she might break if she doesn't get to do this.
"I promised Mom we would carry on like normal" she says quietly. "We all promised—"
"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT WE PROMISED HER SHE STILL GONE!" He shouts and though she knows that he would never hurt her she still can't help but flinch backwards.
"Dad—"
"SHE IS GONE, DEAD AND WHAT YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE? TELL ME BRIDGET WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE TO CELEBRATE! YOU'VE GONE AROUND LIKE NOTHING HAS HAPPENED AND—"
"That's not true" she says, she can feel tears building and she doesn't want to cry but she is so tired…she is so, so fucking tired and she's been the strong one for too long and—"
"—DON'T—JUST DON'T" He shouts again. He takes one look at her and something changes, weather or not he's aware of her reaction she doesn't know but suddenly his anger seems to seep straight out of him. He scrubs a hand over his face but…
"Look just…I'm sorry okay. Just…just go will you? I just…I just can't do this right now I need to sleep I just…I just need to sleep this off and then…I just…" he's trailing off anger gone back on the couch and Bridget just turns and walks back to her room.
She doesn't realise she's packed a bag, she doesn't even realise that's she stuck something on a post it, until it's there on her bed and it's just adrenaline at that point. She's out Erin's window and she jumps so that she hits the soft snow on the ground before she can even think about what she's doing. It doesn't occur to her that she needs a plan, that she needs more than a few clothes and a picture of her Mom and her bracelet. It doesn't matter to her, all that matters is that the emotion she is battling is leaking out of her so what does it matter that she's walking away from her home and her family and she's miles away from them before her legs stop moving and she realises she's shaking from cold. She's walked for hours and hours she's sure of it and the street she's on is deserted and her mother is dead and her father wants her gone and so she sits on the cold pavement her hands over her head trying to keep all the emotion choked down within her.
"Hey kid?"
She looks up. The man standing there's in uniform looking down at her. He's not a cop, it's more a security guard and he's watching her with sympathy.
"You got people kid?"
Bridget thinks about it and then gives a non-comital shrug because to be honest at this point she doesn't know. Justin's got his own life, Erin too. And everything she thought she was good at has gone, even her Dad doesn't need her anymore. And her Mom…
She can feel herself breaking again.
"Kid do you want some hot chocolate? I just put on a pot. Gonna go to New York in a couple of days and I could do with some company. Come on inside and get warm"
She doesn't know if it's because he's a security guard of if it's just his tone of voice but she obeys.
"Bridget" she says finally. "My name is Bridget"
"Well hello Bridget" he says as the door shuts and he locks it behind her. "My name is George."
It is the last time that Bridget Voight is seen again.
Hank wakes up to the full judgemental glare of Al staring at him. He's pretty sure after his meltdown he opened the last bottle of scotch and he knows Al well enough to know that he's late for work, Al's covered for him and he's come back to find Hank lying on his stomach face down in the cushions and the bottle somewhere on the floor.
And holy shit his head hurts.
"Well" Al says seeing him wake. "You look like shit. Well done Hank, I left you alone for three hours and you go and get black out drunk. Tell me did you leave the bar as it was or is there another place I have to go and smooth over so they don't file the police report?"
"It was fine"
"No it wasn't. You think I don't already know you broke Bob Ruzek's jaw?"
Shit.
"What's—"
"Don't worry Trudy's on it but fuck me Hank what the hell possessed you? Don't answer that either I know what possessed you. Camille would kill you if she could see you now"
"It gets worse" he said from where his head was in hands trying to keep his brain from spilling out and the vomit from not rising. Every inch of his body hurt and he knew Al being the bastard (meaning good friend) that he was had hidden the painkillers and the water until he knew everything that he had to.
"What did you do?"
"I snapped at Bridget"
There was a very pregnant pause.
"You did what?"
Christ even if he didn't hate himself already Al's tone was more than enough to do it.
"Al—"
"You…define snapped?"
"Christmas"
"Chr—oh"
And suddenly the whole story bubbled out of him. Which was probably the wrong word to use because Hank suddenly felt like the scotch and the vodka were going to bubble out of him too.
"I came back and she was getting out the decorations and she told me that we were doing Christmas and I…I haven't…I didn't want to think of Christmas. I just…it was her holiday. Her and Bridget's and the thought of putting up a tree and doing the normal things, Al I swear to God it's just…it's killing me"
Al said nothing for a second but clearly he must have thought that Hank had suffered enough because he stood and went into the kitchen and came back with cold, cold, water and that was good because it allowed Hank time to wipe his hands over his face.
"So" he said with the air of a man getting the end of a long road. "You snapped at your eleven year old whose done nothing wrong and then you opened another bottle and got wasted. Brilliant Hank—I—what did you say?"
He thought back, it was like trying to hear underwater it was all fuzzy but from what he could remember…
Shit.
"Not good" he said leaning back on the couch and waiting until the room stopped spinning. "Not good Al, not good. I…I think I scared her and…and it's Christmas and it was the first time she was excited and I took that away from her and I am just the worst—"
"No your not" Al interrupted softly. "Your just grieving"
He didn't cry but it was a hard thing not to.
"I should go and apologise to her and then we can do something and—"
"She's not here"
He looked up and then looked down again because the light was making his head want to explode.
"She at yours?"
"No. Justin and Erin were gone when I got here so she's probably out with them. I rang her but her phone is going to voicemail. When they come in the four of you have got to sit down and do something…she's a kid Hank and she's more adult since Cam died than the three of you put together. And it's not fair on her. And I'll tell you what your bloody lucky that this is me telling you that because Meredith would skin you alive. She's one drunken escapade away from letting Bridget move in with us and sometimes I think she's right"
Hank said nothing. There was nothing else to say because he knew he was right and so did Al. He had to get a grip. And to do that he had to stop drinking.
Shit.
"I need to shower"
"Yeah you do. Go and make yourself look alive and I'll get some bacon on—"
And the second he said bacon Hank found himself intimately acquainted with his kitchen sink. Al watching on just sighed.
Justin Voight came home utterly exhausted. Erin next to him was still drunk he was sure but she was Erin and she was good at hiding it. A Christmas party that they had both been banned from going to had turned into a Christmas raid. Thankfully he was still sober enough to shove Erin out of the bathroom window and the two of them had gotten away by the skin of their teeth and had ended up sitting on a park bench with a joint between them. Then there had been a quick stop at Bunny's so Erin could check her mother was alive (she wasn't there but Erin didn't seem concerned) and then they had doused themselves in spray so that his Dad didn't pick up the scent. Considering his Dad had spent the last five months either at work or at the bottom of a bottle it was enough.
All Justin wanted to do was crawl underneath his warm covers and sleep for a week. Erin who had scarfed an entire burger on the way back looked as if she very much wanted to do the same. And he had to get rid of the body glitter. It was Erin's body glitter and somehow it had gotten all on him like a rash.
Fucking glitter.
His Dad looked like hell. Justin stared at him shoving Erin discreetly to next room before it was glaringly obvious she was coming down from a high and dropped his keys on the table. His Dad still had that hazy look that came with too much drink though he had clearly showered and Al was here. Great…sometimes Justin thought that Al just enabled his Dad. They were always together and Justin would have pointed out that Al just enabled the man to drink more, to be more reckless, to do whatever it was that his Dad did to get ninety grand in the safe in the basement but then again what did that matter? Al was still always here just looking around with that blank stare that made Justin was to ram his knuckles through the window.
"You look like shit" was all he said finally. He wanted to say a lot more but what was the point.
"Thanks" his Dad said dryly. "Where are your sisters?"
"Erin's in worse shape than you are. I don't know where the fuck Bridget is"
"Language and what do you mean she's been with you all morning. I need…I need to talk to her"
Justin scrubbed a hand over his face and saw that it was covered in glitter. When he was sober enough and when Erin was sober enough he was going to kill her. Or you know…just hide the painkillers.
"She's not with me" he said exhaustion pulling at him. "Erin and I have been out all night, I left Bridget with the Christmas decorations"
Without even looking up he could feel the sharpness of the room intensify. It was an odd feeling. Looking back Justin would know that it was the beginning of the end.
"She's not here" his Dad said finally.
"Not surprising considering the state your in most nights"
"What's that—"
"Dad! Come on who do you think cleans up after you when you go on a bender? Cause I sure as hell don't hide the scotch bottles or make sure the fridge is stocked or make sure your not hungover enough to get shot by accident. She does. So what if she got sick of it? She's probably with Lexie doing things normal kids should do"
He emphasised the word normal. Hopefully the questionable state that he and Erin were in wouldn't be mentioned.
"She's not with Lexie I don't think" Al said quietly. "She's with Meredith and there's no way Meredith would keep quiet if Bridget showed up at her house after…well…after"
There was something else here that Justin didn't understand but worry was beginning to claw at his insides a little. He was just about to open his mouth to ask just what the fuck had happened last night (because there was a look on his Dad's face that he didn't understand but he didn't like the look of at all) when Erin staggered in.
"Bridget's ran away, I think"
"You think?"
"Jesus Justin I'm not a cop, I just know I went into her room to the bathroom to throw up—"
"As you do—"
"Yeah well I'm not perfect so sue me, and I found this note, and I swear to God Hank I think there might be stuff missing, certainly the picture of her and Camille and I think some clothes and—"
Justin stared at the note, there on a post it in his sister's scrawl was written plainly for all to see.
Alright then Dad, consider me gone. Bridget.
"What the fuck did you do?" he asked looking at his Dad whose face was perhaps to awful to explain in clear words.
"Dad what the FUCK DID YOU DO?"
"Al I don't—"
"I'm calling it in, look It might be nothing. More than likely she'll come back but we'll call it in to be safe, Justin, Erin…just go and see if she's taken any more stuff"
Justin didn't want to listen to him, he wanted to stay there and ask just what had happened for his family to fall apart again in five months but Erin was dragging him out of the room and away from the man on the couch who was rapidly falling apart.
They never did find Bridget.
Never.
Until of course there was a fire in a residential area.
But a lot of things had happened since then.
And this…this was the nightmare.
And there you go, I hope you enjoy this first chapter and I will do my best to bring you the next one sooner rather than later.
Next Chapter-There's a fire and some photographs are found. Erin get's the shock of her life. Meanwhile in 2003 the fallout continues.
