Hi, and here is another one, I hope you enjoy. I will let this note be short and sweet and let you get on with the chapter because this is quite an emotional one.

Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just the character of Bridget.

Please Read and Review.

And TRIGGER WARNINGS for this chapter and indeed this story.

And always respect your health care workers because they do one hell of a job wherever you are.

Stand And Unfold Yourself

Chapter 11-Made To Be Broken

In which everyone is clutching at straws until a phone call is made and fate finally, finally throws Hank Voight a lifeline.

20th November 2014

Justin had passed out in the breakroom and Hank was watching him.

Yeah he knew how it sounded. But there was nothing else to do. Everyone was drawing up blank and it had been Jay, Jay who was on less sleep than him who had asked Hank gently what he wanted to do next. Hank had not been able to answer him because the truth was the next thing to do was to check the morgues. It was freezing outside and his baby had not exactly been dressed for winter and yet everytime he wanted to say that, everytime his brain went for the forgone conclusion that everyone in the break room had come to before him he found that he was clamping down his body as if preparing for a brutal assault.

The beatings in prison, that was nothing.

The looks when he got back on the job, that was nothing.

The memory of his father with his head half open with the bullet was nothing.

Camille…God help him was nothing compared to her daughter dead in some ally like a common junkie.

But even the most common of common junkies were someone special to someone.

Christ he was losing his mind. He felt like he had been losing it for four years and yet now he was aware of it. The last time he had felt like this he had been in prison and he had been crawling out of his skin and out of his mind and it had been Al who had been entrusted with looking for his baby girl and Al who would come and tell him every week that there was nothing, still nothing but they both knew that no news was good news didn't they Hank?

And now there was this, hope but not hope and here he was awaiting the news that his daughter had been alive yesterday but was dead today.

In these situations he found he was watching Justin with such an intensity he was surprised his son could sleep through it. Then again Justin had always had the ability to sleep through anything. Bridget too. He had been up at the crack of dawn, the idea of sleeping until noon foreign to him even with a double shift under his belt. He had never had the luxury of spending time in bed. Even when he and Camille had been in their days before kids he had never rolled around in bed (beyond what was necessary) always preferring to get up and get on with things.

When they'd had kids it was easy because no matter what job you had it didn't matter because once you had kids then you didn't sleep beyond what your body told you to do out of sheer need. And then Camille had gotten sick and he had spent all night watching her, researching cures and just simply…watching her.

And then there had been Bridget and he had not slept since then.

Both of his children had slept through the night though. Justin not so much when he was a baby but Bridget had slept through since three days old. She had scared the shit out of him when he had woken up his body expecting to be up at three, four and seven and yet he had slept through until nine. He had been convinced she had died in the night and yet there his baby had been soundly sleeping. Honestly looking back Camille and he couldn't believe their luck. A second baby, carried to term, healthy not only but one who slept through the night.

And now Justin was asleep whole body curled under the thin blankets in the bunk room and here he was watching him and wondering weather or not he was going to have to wake him up and tell him that this whole thing had been a dream and his sister was in fact dead.

There was nothing else to do. There was nothing…nothing else to do but wait. They had drawn a blank, they had drawn a complete and utter blank and there was nothing else to do but bang their heads against the wall. He swallowed again leaning back against the hard chair and watching his son as he slept.

On the way back from the coffee shop Justin had told him about Olive, about the baby and the marriage that never was. About the ring that had once belonged to his wife that was burning a hole in his duffel and the money that he was slowly getting back through sheer force of will and the fact that he had been lied too. Hank would have been angry on Justin's behalf, for the life he could have had and the child and grandchild that was lost to both of them but he could barely muster enough energy to drag himself one foot forwards to the breakroom and back.

Jocelyn Cerpaski had taken the life out of him in ways that he hadn't known could. She had battered him in a way that he had not expected and so here he was sat here waiting for the next bomb to drop, the next blow to come.

Bridget had thought that he was dead. She had thought that Justin was dead. That was something he could put in a box far away to deal with at some later point but the thing that had his hands shaking was the fact that she had believed in him. That she had put up one hell of a fight believing until the very last that he would kick down the door looking for her. That each day she had woken up fully expecting him to come through the door and rescue her. That despite the fact that he absolutely did not deserve it she had believed in him until the very end. He did not deserve that absolute faith his daughter had, had in him. The beginning of this nightmare was on him. He was not so arrogant as to give himself the full credit for it but she had believed in him despite the fact that he had told her to go, that he had gotten drunk most nights and that he had shouted at her and shamed her and treated her as if she was a nuisance and not the miracle baby that he and his wife had wished for and had never believed that they would get.

Justin shifted a little in his sleep and Hank wished that he could sleep too. He wished to God that he could sleep and never wake up.

There was a knock at the door.

It was Jay. He raised one eyebrow and jerked his head at the door. Hank nodded. That was one of the nice things about Jay. He didn't need to use words where there were none. Everyone else was trying to talk to him. Everyone but Jay because Jay knew in that instinctual way that sometimes there were no words to put into detail about the trauma that was playing out in front of him.

"I'm gonna go for another round of the hospitals" Jay said once the door was shut and it was the two of them in the corridor alone. It was night time and it was cold, so, so fucking cold and the snow was sure to start falling soon. New York, Chicago, Boston, Washington, they always had cold winters that started early and thawed late.

"Jay"

"I know it might not mean much but Sarge…I don't want to go to a cold hotel room and face a phone call to Erin just yet. I don't want to sit here either. I just…I want to do something so let me do this"

"Where's Al?"

"He went back to the hotel. He says he had to call Meredith but I think he was just desperate to be alone. I don't…Benson went home to her son, Amaro to his daughter and Rollins is still here but she's clasping at straws. Just…I'll take Fin with me if you want I just have to do something"

Hank looked at him and he saw himself thirty years or so ago when the world had seemed open at his feet and the streets had been dirty and the department had been dirty and yet he'd had everyone and everything to play for.

"Jay—"

"Sarge—"

"Fine"

Jay nodded. "Thank you" he said finally and then…

"Look I don't know what happened and please don't fire me but I am going to do something now and then we will never speak of it again?"

"What?"

Jay watched him for a long second and then he did something so completely left field it stunned him out of the bout of apathy that he was in and shocked him back into reality.

He hugged him.

It was gentle at first small hands on his shoulders and back not because Jay didn't know how to hug but almost as if he was nervous about it, as if he was expecting Hank to jerk back and blow out his jaw with one punch and suddenly he hated Jay's father with everything that he had. Hatred, Camille had always said was such a wasted emotion and he had never really gotten.

And suddenly he was gripping back as if his life depended on it.

Jay said nothing. Indeed he said absolutely nothing but then again Jay had never really been one to say anything where he didn't have to and he didn't have to with this one. Instead he gently hugged him as if it was a normal thing to do rather than something so out of the blue it was like they had fallen from this shitty world into an even stranger one like Alice through the fucking looking glass.

Eventually thought Jay pulled back.

What his face must look like Hank really didn't want to think.

"I'm gonna go now Sarge okay. I'll call you when I'm done"

"Go back to the hotel when your done Jay. Get some sleep"

"Yeah sure Sarge"

And then Jay was gone melting into the background as if he was part of the stone, the brick, the very air.

It was creepy sometimes about how he could do that.

Pretty handy for a Detective nonetheless.

Jay had been at the desk of St Victor's wating for some nurse to get back to him when the doors had banged open.

He had watched his sluggish brain unable to communicate with his body when he saw the doctors rush out to greet whoever it was that was arriving at the ER door.

One of the paramedics came in and Jay saw that the body on the gurney was female but not much else. He turned half listening his back cracking in sympathy half listening, half not.

"Jane Doe approximately fifteen years old found by the side of the road, knee is busted and she's covered in blood looks like a lot of it is not hers, emancipated, severely dehydrated and showing clear, visible and historic signs of sexual abuse."

Jay turned his body on auto pilot and he saw a flash of blue.

And suddenly it was like he couldn't breathe.

He was following the body as if he was on fast forward and he flashed his badge in some Doctor's face standing in the room and watching silently like some sentinel statue.

The girl on the bed was the same girl in the photo he would stake his career on it.

Bridget.

Bridget Voight.

Holy mother of God they had found her. By a fluke, by a sheer stroke of luck they had found her. He had found her.

He half listened to the medical jargon, picking out the words and the pieces that he had learnt from Will over the years and some that he had learnt in the Army. It wasn't good but the gist of it was that Bridget Voight was awake and coherent and that was enough.

God knows for Voight that was going to be enough times ten.

But he couldn't call Voight. God knows he wanted to but he couldn't. Because if he was wrong (and somehow he doubted very much that he was) he didn't want to be the guy that gave his boss false hope. Jay knew enough about false hope to know that it was the worst thing in the world and even though he and Hank did this dance where they operated in the grey area on a good day (and were at each other's throats on a bad day) and yet he was as sure as he was standing that this was Bridget Voight. Already he could see the resemblance to the photo that he had seen in Chicago in what had felt like such a long time ago and was in fact only a week ago. God had it really been that short amount of time? It felt like it had been decades.

He dithered a little and then he called the one person who would know if this was Bridget Voight.

"Jay?"

"Al a Jane Doe just came into St Victor's, fifteen, dark hair, dark eyes, blue dress. It's her and I'm ready to call It but…I need to know. I need something from before."

There was a sound of a light flipping on in the background and when Al spoke his voice was sharper.

"Left knee is it busted?"

"Yeah"

"Scar on the kneecap, thin red line?"

"Hang on"

He elbowed a nurse out the way and looked.

"Excuse me—"

"Chicago PD fuck off" he said not caring about being rude. "I need to know if there's a scar on her left knee. Find it. Now."

She shifted her jaw but Jay was really, really not in the mood. Will would have told him to be nicer to first responders and usually Jay would have done but right now he was so not in the mood.

"Listen" he said snapping. "I am in direct contact with this girls father and if you don't fucking look I will arrest you and everyone in this room for hindering an investigation into a paedophile ring and I swear to God by the time I am done there is nothing that your union rep will be able to do to help you. I swear I will make it so that a back ally injection site won't want you"

Yeah if Will could hear him he'd go mad.

But the woman checked.

And that was enough.

"Yeah" he said down the phone to Al. "Yeah should I call?"

"Yeah" Al said. "Yeah I…I'm on my way but he'll get there first. He has to go softly Jay he and Justin…"

"I know. I'll tell him but Al…Erin"

"Give me ten minutes to get dressed and I'll call her, I need to call my wife first. Do you have this? Do you have Hank when he turns up?"

"Yeah"

"Good"

And with that clipped response Al hung up. Jay wasn't sure what to make of it but then again with Al and emotions it was always hard to check. Man was a machine, even with his daughter up as a material witness he had been as stoic as ever—at least in front of them. What he was behind closed doors Jay didn't know. Aside from Hank and maybe Adam he didn't know who else did know.

Shaking he fumbled with the phone. He was still in the room and suddenly he was aware of eyes on him.

It wasn't the nurses who were all sharing dark looks at him. It wasn't the Doctor who was adding fluids and muttering about a rape kit. It was the girl on the bed that was watching him as he called her father. Two dark eyes watching him dimly through the haze of whatever it was and Jay tried to smile but he couldn't force his face to move.

"Yeah?"

"Hank it's me. I'm at St Victors"

"Yeah?"

Jay took a shuddering breath. The eyes were still on him and he knew that from this moment on everything was going to change.

"Hank, we've got her"

And there you go, I hope you enjoyed that one, next chapter will come as soon as it is written.

Next Chapter-Just how did Bridget Voight get to St Victor's? From her disappearance to now in the space of a couple of days Bridget tries to figure some stuff out and makes a difficult decision.