Few, here at last we got there! Here is another chapter and I hope you enjoy, this was gut-wrenching to write and I am still not one hundred percent sure on how good it was but here we are anyway.

Disclaimer-Nothing here is mine just this character that is Bridget.

Please Read and Review.

And Remember-TRIGGER WARNINGS Especially in this chapter for ALMOST SUICIDE.

I intend to do one maybe two more chapters and then I will do a multiple update around Christmas. I always do this with whatever story I have and if you have followed my work you with know that. So if we get to December and there are no updates whatsoever please don't panic.


Stand And Unfold Yourself

Chapter 13-Trembling On The Brink.

The reckoning, at last, Bridget, Hank and a ledge. Nothing more to be said but that. Smaller Chapter.


20th November 2014


For a moment everything was suspended in time. For her at any rate. Breathing in and out of the cold air and feeling it rack her whole body again with a shivering silence she half listened half not for what came next. Automatically her body locked down but one foot was still off the cold ledge and she put it back on the stone and sighed. Out of everything to come out of this Bridget was almost surprised at how much her mind wanted her to live. She had not countered on this at all. She had not counted on chiselled chined detectives and hallucinations of her father telling her that there was hope on the other side of this.

She closed her eyes for a second and then opened them. She had slipped up, the hallucination had not responded to her calling him Dad and so she carried on.

"Bridget"

Shit there he was again. Sounding like he had that night that their Mom had been taken to hospital the final time, raw, open, gutted. That had been where all the good had ended for them she supposed. That moment the integral part of their lives had been lost and they had all been cut adrift.

That was the one good thing she thought. She thought that she was going to see her Mom again and that kept her going throughout all of this. Just a little bit longer, just a little bit further.

"Bridget. Bridget. Bridge?"

"Go away"

"Nah I not gonna do that sweetheart. I came a long way looking for you and I'm not gonna leave you now. I've been…God Bridget I have been looking for you for four years"

Lies.

Lies.

"Lies"

"No…no honey It's not a lie. I know…I know what you have been told, I know what they've told you. I know what…God I know what's been done to you. I know all of it and I am right here. I am right here. I can…please come down so we can talk, that's all I wanna do Bridget, I just want to talk"

It was too easy. It was too, too easy. It was too easy for her to turn around and walk off the ledge and go back to the hospital bed and she knew what that would mean, counselling, commitment, thinking about everything that had happened and she couldn't do that. She couldn't think about it. She didn't want to think about it.

"No" and then because it spilled out of her she continued the words tripping up and over themselves.

"Your dead"

"No" and she could hear someone that was decidedly not her Dad come closer as if he was a hair's breath away but he still didn't want to spook her.

"No. Bridget I am not dead. I was sent to prison that much is true, as was Justin. But we got out. We got out and we went looking for you and Erin and Al and everyone…everyone was looking for you, my God I never…we never stopped. I am right here. I AM RIGHT HERE"

But he wasn't…surely he wasn't? He couldn't be. He couldn't be standing behind her and she knew that the second she turned around she would be disappointed to her core and then she would have to jump. It wasn't that she wasn't going to jump now the fact was that she would have to turn around and see that the illusion of her father was just that…an illusion.

"Bridget…Bridget please just turn around and see me…look I know I failed you, I should…my God Bridget I know I failed you, I know you needed me and I said things…if I could take it back, my God if I could take it back I would sell my soul to in a heartbeat I would. I would take it all back I would. I know I said that I wanted you gone but nothing could be further than the truth and I promise you here and now that I will fix this, if you let me I will fix this, I…I don't know how but I will do my best to fix it. You tell me what you need and I will fix it. Okay?"

And she could see it behind her blood crusted eyelids. She could see him nodding his head up and down, up and down as if he was desperate to try and tell her that it was going to be okay again, that he could fix it for her. That he could try and make it all better again. Bridget didn't know if he could and then she shook her head and because it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he was dead and this was all a figment of her imagination anyway.

Christ she was so fucked up.

"I have done things" she said because even if this was a figment of her imagination which it most certainly was, she was going to make damn sure that she was going to her parents with everything on the table.

"I don't care"

Bridget scoffed.

"Sure you don't. I'm the kid of a cop and I killed someone"

"I know. I know. And I know why you did it. You think I don't know why you did it? You think I don't know why you did what you did? You had a choice in that room, to life or to die and you chose to live. You chose to live and you did what had to be done and darling I have never been so fucking proud of you…BRIDGET DON'T!"

For Bridget had just took her other foot off the ledge. She had jumped up and down a little on the small step that she was on and she had found it funny that she had landed in one piece. Her arms were outstretched as if she was flying and she knew that she could feel the breeze on her face and that fresh air was one of the few things that she would never take for granted again. So long cooped underground or being passed around dark and faceless rooms with no windows and now she was in the outside world and she could breathe in and she could breathe out.

Fresh air.

Such a wonderful concept. Such a simple thing and yet she had taken a breeze across her face for granted and even though it was November she was never going to take it for granted again.

Well…for the short time that she remained alive that is.

Which she didn't expect to be long.

"Look" and she could hear the desperation in that well loved voice.

"Look darling…please…just…please come down from the ledge. I promise you whatever you want I will do my best to make it better. I don't care…I don't care what you've done and the only person that I care about is you. Bridget please…please…please just turn around and look at me"

It would be easy for her to do it she knew. It would be easy for her to turn around and look at him, to believe his words, the words that were being said. The words were floating around her brain. She had imagine her Dad turning up and saving her with words like these.

It didn't mean that they were true.

"Bridge?"

She knew that voice as well and with eyes closed she answered.

With eyes closed it was easy.

"Justin?"

"Yeah…" she could see her brother in her mind taking a step forwards only for the chiselled chinned cop try to do his best to pull him backwards.

To no avail.

"Yeah Bridget" the brother that had died said in her mind and Bridget listened to it because while she might have loved and lost and needed her father like air the truth of the matter was that she also loved and lost and needed Justin like he was air. She needed them both. Father and brother. And sister. Because wherever Justin went, Erin went and Erin had been as much of a sister to her as Justin had been a brother to her.

"Yeah kid…I'm here and…and look I know you must be so, so confused but I spoke to Jocelyn and—"

And Bridget opened her eyes with a start.

"You spoke to Jocelyn?"

Perhaps there was something in her voice that gave them hope because she all but heard her father turn around to shoot Justin a look and when Justin spoke it was with a confidence that she had had very rarely heard from him. Any and all of the confidence that she had heard or seen from her brother had diminished somewhat.

It didn't matter because Justin was dead.

But the fact that he had spoken to Jocelyn….

But it didn't matter because Justin was dead.

"Yeah" her brother carried on because she was apparently a masochist that liked listening into these conversations.

"Yeah I did…I mean…we did…we spoke to Jocelyn, Pops and me and she told us that you were the only one in that place that didn't break…and that…and that she's doing so well. She's doing, oh so well. She's doing better than anyone could ever exist."

Huh. So Jocelyn had gotten out. Bridget who had known Jocelyn through thick and through thin had known her as a survivor through and through, was pleased.

But just because Jocelyn had survived didn't mean that she could.

That she would.

That she should.

So instead she kept her eyes closed but the truth was…the truth was that her brother and her father were speaking to her and with each passing second she was finding it harder and harder to keep her attention on what was happening because it became easier and easier for her to believe that they were alive.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

And she could not deny the hopefulness in it. She could not deny the desperation that was an undercurrent in each passing word. She could not deny it nor did she want to deny it and so she dared…she dared and she dared to hope.

It was a fucking foolish thing to do. Because Bridget knew how such a thing would end up. She knew how things like this would end. She knew that she would end up alone in the long run, she knew that she would turn around and these images, these figments in her imagination would be just that, figments, they would be gone with the early morning sunrise and whatever poetic shit that that her brain would come up with.

She hated it.

She hated it.

She hated it.

And yet she fucking needed it all the same. She needed to hear them speak the words, that she was forgiven, that everything was alright, that she was something of worth, that she was someone that could come home at the end of the day.

And then without warning as if Hank Voight had decided there and then with his daughter in his line of sight that he was going to be daringly, achingly reckless he reached out and she felt fingertips graze her hand.

She flinched backwards and staggered a little her toes barely keeping her on the edge of the ledge and she heard a whimper behind her that didn't…couldn't….wouldn't…come from Justin because Justin was dead and—

"Bridget" the voice was in her ear and she shut her eyes to it keeping them well shut even as she felt the presence next to her.

"Bridget Camille…look at me…look at me…."

She felt a hand be taken in her own.

"Bridget—"

And God help her he was right there. He was there, poised to listen in her ear.

"I…I can't"

"Why?"

"Because…because your dead"

And she felt the hand that was clutching her own go to something hard, she felt cloth under her fingers like she was gripping a shirt and she shook her head a little.

"Listen to me…you feel that…that's me…that's me, I am right here with you and…and God help me Bridget if you want to go over this roof that's fine but are taking me with you because I cannot do another day without you. I fucked up and I'm…I am beyond sorry but I am right here with you. Please open your eyes and let me help you. I am right here. I am…whenever your ready I am right here"

And she didn't know what it was, she didn't know if it was the plea in the voice of the illusion but trembling on the brink she opened her eyes.

And he was right there.

He was right here with her. He was older than the last time she had seen him and she watched as he slid of the ledge. It was a ploy clearly designed for her to come off with him and yet she still didn't know…she was unsure, horribly unsure of everything and yet…

And yet…

She didn't even look in the direction of Justin's voice. She didn't want to go down that road yet.

She didn't…she didn't want to admit that she had been wrong, she didn't want to admit that she had been lied too. A whole slew of emotions were crashing down upon her in that moment but all she kept an eye on was her Dad who was watching her with an expression that told her with an agonising clarity that If she made a move he would be right back with her on that ledge.

"Dad?"

"Yeah" and she saw the relief flood his face. "Yeah…Bridget I am right here, I am right here…I don't care about any of it…please just take a step off…just…I am right here with you"

She lifted her foot and then another and she had a sense that she was flying and then she hit something solid.

"DAD!"

And Bridget Voight fell off the ledge into her father's arms as she broke for the second time and this time arms came around her and she was aware that her bare feet had hit solid ground and that she was being lowered to it.

She was not aware of much after that.

Because she had pitched herself forwards into her Dad's arms and her Dad had caught her with all the fever of any parent that could touch their missing child after four long, hellish years.


And there you go, I hope you enjoy and I will bring you the next chapter sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-Bridget might be safe but there is a case to be solved and wounds to be cleaned and above all else Hank is still not entirely sure this is not a dream. Justin concurs. Al makes two phone calls.