Hi, so here is another chapter, I really hope that you enjoy this chapter and I will do my best to bring you the next one sooner rather than later.

Disclaimer-Nothing here is mine just the character of Bridget.

I have added an extra chapter to this story so instead of it being 22 chapters it is now 23.

Also another point of view here, this was a fun one to write.

Also I got rid of Olive because quite frankly she irritates me. So in this world it turns out Danny isn't Justin's, she's actually been married all along and she's a conwoman. More on that will be explored when I get into some good Hank and Justin scenes.

And again TRIGGER WARNINGS for this story.


Stand And Unfold Yourself

Chapter 8-Not So Special.

Hank and co head to the Youth Centre to meet the lady who runs it…and the security guard, and they get a name of someone who might be able to help. Jocelyn. Meanwhile someone turns up at SVU headquarters determined to help.


18th November 2014


It was nice, clean, the kind of place that Hank had dropped kids off to in his own time.

It was also the place where you didn't think about the kids that you had dropped off there after you had gotten in your car and driven away. The kind of place that should be receiving all the funding in the world but yet was barely keeping it's doors open due to public cuts and whatnot. Hank had been guilty enough of that himself over time.

But the place was clean and the woman who ran it seemed to know what she was doing.

"Bridget Voight?" she said looking at the photo. It was one of the good ones that Hank had and then the awful one that he also had, the one where she was glaring up at the camera jaw set, all bruised and broken.

"You seen her before?" Jay asked taking the lead when nobody else seemed to. Hank liked Jay, he liked him a lot, even though he was sure that one day Erin was going to break Jay's heart. Jay had the ability to be his successor—only the less violent kind and Hank liked that. Liked the fact that the man had come up with his own code that he kept half hidden, unlike Antonio and Adam who wore their hearts on their sleeves and God only knows what else.

"Maybe" the woman said looking at her. "I think…I think she might have been here. It's hard to…George what do you think?"

She turned handing the photograph to a security guard. He was older, gaunter around the face with dark greying hair and he looked at Bridget's photo with a blank expression. The photo's that Hank had, had, clung to somethings were the eleven year old with her Mom grinning and laughing, back when life was good for him and his family. Back before he had fucked it all up.

"I don't…so many kids…maybe she was here"

Maybe. Maybe Bridget had been here, maybe she had been alive, maybe she was dead.

Maybe she had killed someone.

Carefully he had not gone down that road but he couldn't help but feel a little flare of pride. His girl had seen which way the wind was blowing and had done all that she had to do to survive. She had not gone down swinging she had risen up and fought her way out. And then the pride was extinguished because he remembered then that she wouldn't have had to fight if he'd have been there to protect her in the first place. If he'd been sober, if he'd been something resembling a good father.

Justin was right. All of this was on him.

"So many kids" the security guard said finally. "She's someone to you?"

Hank ignored him.

"Was she…if she was here was she speaking to anyone? Was there anyone who might remember a dark haired girl like Bridget?" Rollins asked her voice soft in the room.

"There was a girl who seemed to know a lot of people who came through here" the woman said finally. "Well…she made an effort to get to know some of the girls, some liked it, some didn't. She might remember your girl. But to be honest…I wouldn't hold out much hope, they flirt in and out of here. Sometimes the pull of the street is too much, especially when they don't have family that cares for them"

"This one did" Hank said flatly. He knew that he was struggling against the emotions that were slamming into him at the speed of light but he had to say that because he had seen girls who went on the streets because families didn't care about them. Bridget had not been one of them. New York, Chicago…fucking Africa for crying out loud if she'd have called him and let him know that she was alive he'd have moved mountains to come and find her. There was never a scenario where Bridget wouldn't have been able to come home.

He just hoped to God that she had known that.

And then just as that thought had crossed him mind the demonic little voice had risen in the back of his mind, "Well how was she supposed to know that? You were drunk half the time and then you told her to go and not bother to come back. So how was she supposed to know that you felt guilty? How was she supposed to know you felt anything?

Failure. Failure. Failure.

"—Sarge—"

"What?"

"You okay?" Jay was looking at him in that odd way that Jay sometimes did. His whole body was turned towards Hank and Hank noted with wry amusement that he had positioned himself so that he was blocking his view from Rollins and Amaro. God only knows what his face had to look like for Jay to do that.

"Sarge you okay?"

"No Jay" he said honestly. "But I'm good. So what did I miss?"

Jay eyed him for a second and then he nodded.

"We got a name" he said carefully. "Of a success story, a girl who might have been here if Bridget was here. Apparently, this girl always introduced herself to all the other girls even if it never went anywhere. We've got a name."

Yeah that was all they had wasn't it. Names.

But names were something.

And God knows wasn't too proud to beg.

Not for this.

"Okay let's go"

"Err…Sarge…maybe we should let SVU you do"

"Why? Look Jay—"

"Sarge you keep spacing out, your on no sleep in the past three days and you look…you don't look good. Sarge please, if this girl knows where your daughter is, if she's been in this room she's gonna be scared, she's gonna want to forget and she might even refuse to answer us. And there is nothing, NOTHING that we can do to make her talk and…and…and you don't do well in those situations"

"You trying to tell me you think I'd frighten her?"

"Sarge right now you're frightening me"

Christ, you had to give the kid credit he knew Hank well.

"Jay—"

"Sarge let's go back to the prescient. Let Rollins and Amaro deal with this girl and then we can take whatever she has to say from there. Please Sarge if you go in like you're Bridget's dad and this victim isn't ready for it she'll run a mile, we've all seen it a hundred times."

And it was that truth and that truth alone that made Hank nod.

He didn't notice the eyes following him.

Odd that he didn't considering.

"What's her name?" he asked suddenly after they got outside.

"What Sarge?"

"The girl…the one we think was also in the room?"

"Jocelyn" Jay said finally. "Jocelyn Cerpaski"


17th November 2014 (Early Morning)


It was his phone buzzing somewhere near his arm that made him wake up. Granted he had never been one for sleeping deeply—prison had seen to that but he had been in a good sleep and Justin did not like being woken up for anything less than a war nowadays. Especially not considering at some point he was going to have to have a conversation with his father about how he had not made an honest woman out of Olive.

"What?"

"Justin it's your Dad?"

"Dad you get it's like five am right?"

"Yeah I…listen are you alone?"

Justin pushed himself up and flicked on the light. There was something about his Dad's tone that he didn't like, in fact it made him feel…childlike again. It was like when he had been sat on one of those hard plastic chairs Bridget curled up at his side at the hospital when his Dad had come out and said that now was the time to say their goodbyes.

"Dad…are you alright?"

His Dad let out some kind of noise that rapidly turned into a shaky laugh. Whatever it was Justin didn't like it. He didn't like it at all and he forced himself out of bed reaching for his jeans.

"Dad?"

"Justin listen…I…I caught a case and…and it's your sister"

Justin dropped his phone. It slid numbly out of his hands and hit the floor cracked screen and all. He stared at it for a second his eyes not seeing and his brain not connecting with what was happening and then it hit him all at once the choking, cut off feeling that he was drowning, lungs filling up with icy water. The weight in his chest that he had been living with for four years was crushing him and…

Oh God she was dead.

That had to be it wasn't it? That was why his Dad was calling him sounding like his world had ended for the third time, why he sounded wrecked beyond belief.

She was dead.

She was dead.

Bridget was dead.

His bright, funny, sarcastic little sister was dead. Unbidden in his head he saw her as he had always wanted to remember her, a laughing eleven year old joking with his Mom and Erin. Dark hair, dark eyes, wit beyond measure and…and now she was dead.

She was dead.

There was a noise coming from far away and he realised dimly through the roaring in his ears that it was coming from the phone he had dropped on the floor.

Shit. His Dad.

With hands that were shaking so badly he nearly disconnected the call he picked up again.

"Dad?"

His voice was shaking but he had to carry on regardless.

"Dad listen to me, I'm gonna go and speak to my commander and then I'm gonna get on the first plane back and we…we can deal with this together and…shit…Dad what…what happened?"

If he said sex trafficking or rape or anything like that he was going to vomit and then curl up on the floor and die. He knew what the stats were but…but the thought of his baby sister's dark eyes going dark for good was crippling him.

Just not painful…please just…just not painful. Let it be anything other than painful.

"I…Firehouse 51 got a call to a fire and we found some picture of kids…they…they were grim Justin. And your sister was one of them"

Justin forced his knuckles into his mouth to stop himself from crying out.

"She…she's gotta be about fourteen maybe, it's recent. The guy he's burned pretty bad but he has links to New York so Erin, Al and Jay and I are heading there now to work with SVU to see if we can find her…we…I…I don't know exactly for how long but Justin I promise you…I am not coming home without her"

There was something here and Justin's brain which was already overworked couldn't communicate, he couldn't think, hell at this point he could barely breathe. Because…because there was something here…there was something…he couldn't understand it and yet…was his Dad really saying?

"Dad…isn't…are you saying…is Bridget dead?"

"Wh—No?"

"Dad…"

"No, no" and then his Dad realised no doubt with that Detective brain of his where Justin's brain had gone having listened to that side of the conversation.

"No…" he said his voice oddly gentle. Justin couldn't remember the last time he had sounded like that—actually he could—when he had been a kid with nightmares. Even after…when Bridget had woken up screaming he had been the one who had gone into her room and rocked her back to sleep.

Not his Dad.

Not then.

But…

"Are you telling me that she is alive?" he said cautiously spelling out each word. The words Bridget and alive had not worked in the same sentence together in his head for a long time. He had never believed that she was alive—he had hated the idea of his father and his desperately clung to false hope, for a long, long time but now he was thinking that maybe, just maybe…the old man had actually been right all along.

"I don't…I don't…I think so" his Dad said cautiously and Justin could hear it, the quiet hope in his voice that made him want to dig his thumbs into his eyes until the pain was too much to where he didn't have to think.

His Dad always did this.

"Dad…how do you…"

"Olivia Benson who is an SVU cop—"

"Dad even I know who Olivia Benson is—"

He could hear the smile over the phone.

"She came to see me, a guy got murdered and she's…Bridget's DNA is all over the scene and she showed me this picture…and it's her…I mean she's out of it, she's covered in blood but it's her—"

"Bridget murdered someone?"

Again it couldn't commute, his strong, dynamic, innocent baby sister who hadn't had a mean bone in her body had what? Wacked a guy on the head? Shot someone? Stabbed someone?

"Yeah but it was self-defence. The guy…he's got a Jack-the-Ripper rep for working girls and—"

And Justin drowned that out because it was s struggle to keep his dinner down as it was.

"Where are you?"

"Heading to New York, I'm gonna…we got lead's Justin, good leads and I will get her back. She was alive as of last night but…but it's not good. She's not…she's not gonna be the same girl"

Yeah because Justin had been naïve enough to assume that was going to happen.

He checked his watch. His commander had two daughters and a soft spot for him since the…incident where it turned out that the baby Olive was carrying was not his and was in fact her ex's who had turned up screaming at the barrack gates demanding access to his already married wife and child. That had been a nightmare he had yet still to figure out but as it turned out he'd got most of the cash back and…

And his sister was alive.

"Okay" he said into the phone. "I gotta go Dad but I'll call you okay"

And he hung up before his Dad could answer breathing. Carefully on shaky legs he made himself get up and go to the bathroom leaning over the sink his whole body shaking like it had done when he had realised that he was going to prison.

He threw up. To be fair he was always going to.

But the second he was done, he rinsed off his mouth and threw some shit into a bag and prayed that his commander was in a forgiving mood.

He needed to catch a plane to New York ASAP.


18th November 2014 (Nearly Midnight)


"Can I help you?"

The man turned around scrubbing a hand over his face. Olivia thought he was another one who she'd met twenty years too late. This one too had a jawline that had been clearly drawn by God.

"Hi" he said the duffel over his back. He was Army by his t-shirt and boots alone though he had crammed his well defined legs into jeans.

"Hi are you Olivia Benson?"

"Yes?"

"Are you…are you the one heading up the Bridget Voight case?"

Well…Olivia was not sure how much of a case they had at this point. Jocelyn Cerpaski had not responded to any of the phone calls Amaro and Rollins had placed. She had admitted when they had gone to see her—being in the room but nothing more. She didn't want to talk about Bridget that much was clear but Amanda was confident if they took another run at her she'd be in a good place. Sometimes it took time with historic sex abuse victims, sometimes it took them time to get them to open up.

She had hope. God knows you needed it to do her job.

"I am. And you are?"

"Justin"

"Justin—"

"Oh…Voight I'm Bridget's brother is my Dad around?"

Just then the door to her office opened.

"Justin?"

That was Erin.

"Erin"

"Jesus you came?"

"Yeah of course I did? Where is he?"

"Outside at the back—he needed a breather, Al's gone with him. Come in and I'll fill you in"

Justin nodded flashed her a small smile and then walked into her office. Erin shut the door and Olivia was left wondering in a sort of stunned silence how she had gone from running this investigation to not running it.

God she hoped Jocelyn could come to them and help them. She didn't know what was going to happen if she didn't.

But she knew that she didn't like it.

Now she understood why Fin had told her to watch the Chicago lot like a hawk.

Now she understood.


And yeah so that's how I left that. I think one more chapter of the Case and then we'll go to Bridget again. Hopefully I will get that to you sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-Jocelyn Cerpaski get's the special treatment from SVU and CPD. George is discovered and the night Bridget disappered is revealed.