Hi, here is another chapter and I hope you enjoy this one. Please bare in mind STRONG TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SUICIDE AND SUICIDAL INTENTIONS in this chapter. If this TRIGGERS YOU IN ANY WAY, please stop here.

Disclaimer-Nothing is mine.

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And with this short note. Enjoy.

Stand And Unfold Yourself

Chapter 12-Nowhere To Run.

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. Slightly Shorter Chapter.

15th-20th November

She had collapsed against an ally her bare feet sore on the cobbles of whatever ally it was. Collapsed behind a dumpster shaking and shivering and covered in blood in a dress that barely covered her barely their breasts.

Brilliant.

What a fucking way to die.

Bridget had leaned into her heavy weight of the dumpster breathing in and breathing out as the cold air above her rose and fell with every puff of air. It was light now, the sky turning a golden bronze. It had been a while since she had felt that kind of fresh air on her skin and she leaned back closing her eyes her legs stuck out underneath her and she breathed in the fresh air and felt the cold on her skin. She was shivering violently and then she was throwing up again even though there was very little in her stomach left.

If she could find someone she might be able to…

To do what? What could she do? Dad was dead, her brother was dead. There was Erin but surely Erin had moved onto bigger and better things? Uncle Al but…but she didn't even know if he would come out for her and even if he did surely Aunt Meredith didn't want her around Lexie? Aunt Meredith who held high standards, Aunt Meredith who hated dirt in her house, why would she want some dirty whore like Bridget? Who had killed a man and even if she hadn't was still so…so fucking dirty?

She shuddered a little as another shiver racked her whole body and she dragged her legs up by her chest and she swallowed down her tears.

There was Trudy she supposed. Trudy might come out if she wasn't too busy. Trudy who liked her, who did outreach programs with troubled youths, she might come out with her or at the very least tell her what to do or where to go next. Bridget was fine on her own, (or so she had told herself) she was fine on her own but the truth of the matter was that she needed some kind of direction. She needed someone to tell her what to do or where to go or what the plan was.

There was also Jocelyn but the last time she had seen Jocelyn was the time she had seen George and she didn't want to think about that time. She didn't want to think about George.

She wanted…she wanted to think about her Mom.

She wanted to think about her Mom and about what she would do and what she would tell her to do.

She didn't know. She didn't think even her Mom would know what to do in this situation.

There was nothing for her, both parents dead, brother dead, Erin gone and now her, the pimped out whore who'd killed someone and if Bob ever got a hold of her…

Well…it didn't bare thinking about.

She shuddered again and this time she did drag herself to her feet. It was fear of Bob if nothing else and it kept her going as she staggered out of the ally.

It was dawn, not many people around and she walked until it became to light to walk again and so she collapsed in another ally. Some homeless guy took pity on her and passed her a cigarette with a vague comment that maybe she should go home but Bridget took a drag on the smoke and ignored him. She was hungry but a long time ago she had given into the hunger. She was tired but she was scared to sleep. Scared to sleep and never wake up again and there was a part of her that was genuinely amused at the fact that she even at this stage she knew sleeping with a head wound was a bad idea.

That was Dad she knew, that was her Dad who had told her that if she ever had a bump on the head she should check with them because sometimes people who had a bump on the head didn't think that there was anything wrong with them and that's why they died.

She knew that. And so she kept herself awake and if the days blurred one into the other then what did she know? She kept moving in a daze unsure if she should be fighting back or lying down in a ditch somewhere. All she knew was that if her actions kept her from being caught by Bob and being ensnared back into his clutches then it was absolutely worth it.

The problem was she was covered in dried blood and she looked a wreck. Her head and her leg were pounding and one way or another she knew that she was racing out of time. She had done wonderfully well staying alive this long but this time she was tired. She was so fucking tired.

And everyone she loved was dead.

Maybe if she was dead too she would be able to put all of this behind her. Nobody would look too hard into her death, everyone surely had forgotten about her? And even if she had the strength to get herself to a payphone she didn't know if Trudy would pick up, if she would even remember, if she would be able to help. She didn't even really remember the woman's number.

No, Bridget wanted her family, she wanted to be with her family and if they were all dead then she was going to have to die too. It was easy for her to come to that conclusion and once she had a plan…well…that was easy too. She had a plan and because of that she was able to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

And she was able to find a bridge.

Bridge. Bridget.

Ironic huh?

She slipped over the edge and waited patiently feeling the sun rise again on her skin, she wanted to feel the sunrise on her skin, she wanted to feel the warmth and see the light for one more time and then she would go and she only had a few more hours to wait and—

"Miss? Honey you okay?"

Fuck. Fucking Rookie Cops. They got everywhere.

Jesus since when did her Inner Voice sound like Trudy-fucking-Platt?

But there he was, a rookie cop with red hair staring at her while his partner was what? In the car?

"Go away"

"I'm not gonna do that honey. Look…why don't we just talk?"

"I don't…I don't want to talk"

"Okay. Then I'll talk, because this is my third day on the job and if you jump my training officer is going to give me hell"

There was something in his earnestness that made her want to trust him a little and so she turned to look at him. As she turned she saw his eyes widen and she knew what he must be seeing.

"You training officer must be a dick"

"Yeah well…I can neither agree nor disagree with that. Listen honey are you hurt?"

"No more than usual"

"Oh…well…look why don't you come down and we can get you to a hospital?"

"I don't…I don't want to go anywhere where people might find me, I can't be found, if I'm found I'm dead"

Something in his eyes widedned a little and Bridget wondred if he had finally put two and two together and had understood what she was triyng to tell him. Actually she wasn't trying to tell him anything. She was just trying to get him to go away.

"Listen, we can put you under as a Jane Doe? Until you have someone you can call? Look…your knee…that's not right. And your…you need looking after."

"I can look after myself"

"Sure you can. But at some point you gotta let someone look after you. You might be scared and I fully understand that, I'm scared too but…but…but you never need to be scared for asking for help"

She wanted to jump. She so did, but she had never counted on wanting to live this much either. Jumping was out of need and so she swung her legs around and let him pull her back from the brink. If it was Bob that this guy was working for then she was dead anyway. If she made a move maybe he would just shoot her. Either way she suspected that by night she was dead.

No reason for him to get into trouble with his TO after all. God knows she remembered recruits had a hard enough time as it was without her jumping to screw him up. Bridget suspected she had already ruined enough lives. Might as well save his while she was at it.

That was how she ended up at St Victor's.

She had drifted in and out of consciousness, it was warm and her head hurt and her knee hurt and she was aching all over. She wanted to curl up and stay warm and yet there was a part of her that screaming for her to stay awake and then someone else was in the room and he was shouting too and it was his voice that cut through all the medical crap and therefore it was his voice that she listened to. His voice with the Chicago accent from Canaryville.

"Listen" the voice said and it was on the verge of snapping. Bridget knew much about voices and she knew that testy kind of voice only too well.

"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"

Wait what?

Who was in direct contact with her father? Her father was dead? Hank Voight was dead so what the hell was this?

But the voice was still speaking as someone moved her dress to see her knee.

"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"

She pushed herself up to stare at the man who was looking at her with wide eyes as if he didn't know what to say. He was clean cut with a jaw that could cut glass and he pushed past the nurse until he was at her side. He couldn't have been much older than Justin.

"Bridget? My name is Jay Halstead, I'm a Detective with your Dad out of Intelligence. He's been looking for you, he and your brother and Erin and…and he's on his way okay?"

What the fuck was he on about? Justin was dead. Her Dad was dead. Erin was gone, nobody was coming for her so why was he telling her that?

It might have shown on her face or it might have shown as confusion because Jay Halstead smiled at her.

"I'm going to go and call him now" he said nodding. "I'm…I'm going to go outside to get a signal but I will be right back okay?"

She pulled lightly at the wires in her arm but Jay Halstead shushed her gently as if she was an injured animal.

"Listen Bridget…I can't imagine what you have been through but I promise you I am going to go and find your Dad and then everything will be okay, okay?"

He smiled a dimple filled smile and then he was gone and Bridget waited until the last nurse had left before she took her move. She was fast when she wanted to be and so she was out the bed and down the hallway before anyone noticed and she slammed the elevator door shut even as they saw her run towards them.

She was going up to…the roof?

Well if that wasn't fate she didn't know what was and so she leaned back against the elevator walls breathing in the stench of the bleach until she made it to the cold roof. There was nowhere else to run but here and so she leaned against the cold wall and then pushed herself to the edge looking down.

It was a far better drop than the bridge.

Something in Bridget's mind told her that, that was an utterly fucked way of thinking.

She took one step and then another.

"Bridget"

Fuck that cop again.

"My Dad is not coming for me" she said on the ledge. "My Dad is dead"

"No he's not sweetheart I promise you, I know that's what they told you but if I know him he's on his way over here breaking all the speed limits he can. I told him you were alive and then I told him you were running to the roof so God there goes my pension"

She snorted even though it hurt. All of it hurt. Her whole body. Her whole mind, it just…it just hurt.

"You can't save me" she said looking down at the hospital entrance that was so far away. Even now she could see some black car speed up and someone…or was it two people who got out run towards the entrance.

"Bridget we found Jocelyn"

"Oh?"

Oh.

"She tell you what a whore I was?"

"No…no Bridget she told us you were the only one they couldn't break. That you kept going and going and we arrested George and…and Bridget he's on his way so please keep talking to me, please…I promise you Hank is on his way"

Bridget stuck her arms out in response and dangled one foot over the ledge.

"You can't fix me" she said seriously. "I've been running…and now I've got nowhere to run but up. And you can't fix me Jay Halstead"

She didn't bother to turn around she was ready, she was ready to see her Mom and her Dad again and Justin and it was so peaceful despite the lights and sirens, so peaceful with the wind in her face blowing the crisp night air at her and—

"BRIDGET!"

She nearly fell over by sheer shock alone.

Because she knew that voice.

She knew that voice.

Dad?

And there you go, I hope that you enjoy this chapter and I will do my best to bring you the next one sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-The Reckoning, Bridget. Hank and a ledge. Nothing more to be said but that.