Platt, Halstead and Officer Miller from the K-9 unit were sitting in the green room of Windy City Mornings, waiting for their interview segment with the TV show's host. Platt was there to represent the officers and her duty of running the whole district. Jay was there representing Intelligence. It was a pretty nice, borderline fancy, green room as far as green rooms were concerned.

There was fruit and pastries for them to munch on while they waited. Not that any of them could really eat with the nerves coursing through their bodies. Actually, Platt and Halstead couldn't eat because they didn't want to be there but that's okay, Miller was eating enough for the three of them. He might be one of those people who eat when nervous or he was just really hungry or he likes the fancy pastries and wants to get his fill of the special treat.

Miller was excited about going on the show but who invites a K-9 officer and doesn't let them bring their dog? Jay thought it was about the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. But then, this whole situation was about the stupidest thing he'd ever had to partake in. He didn't want to be there.

In fact, when they drew straws, Olinski got the short straw. So why was Jay sitting there? He was sitting there because the pretentious producer found out that he had been a Ranger in Afghanistan and thought that would be a "fantastic angle" for the Intelligence Unit's representative - Army Ranger turned cop - who does undercover operations! - which in Jay's opinion just upped the stupidity factor of this whole situation since he would be sitting behind a screen and they would alter his voice. But then the Ivory Tower wasn't known for their smarts, their abundant stupidity buried any collective IQ in bullshit.

The only thing making this whole situation bearable for Jay was watching Platt's reactions to everything. Disgust would probably be the best word to describe her attitude but even that seemed like an understatement. So Jay kept an eye on Platt. The zingers that normally would have been thrown at Jay were going to Miller. She'd been busting him on anything and everything…how much he was eating, his pacing - 'pacing isn't going to burn the calories you're eating so why don't you just sit on the couch and get fat' - his lack of dog and her thoughts that 'maybe they'll have someone dressed up in a dog suit that the host wouldn't be allergic to.'

Miller actually thought she was serious with that one, he was worried that the "dog" wouldn't know the commands and would make the K-9 unit look stupid. Jay's coffee almost came out his nose on that one. So, yes, Platt was entertaining. Her grumbling and commentary, 'pathetic excuse for entertainment,' of the live show that was playing out on the green room TV was his saving grace.

It was when Miller decided to go find the producer to see if there actually WAS going to be a fake dog, that the damn situation went from bad to worse - again an understatement. Platt was sitting in the only comfy chair in the room and Jay decided to finally break down and grab another cup of coffee. He was standing by the table when the automated espresso machine started to hiss. Cheap shit in a fancy room.

When the hiss turned into a low whine, he realized that the sound was actually coming from behind the wall. When the noise graduated into an ear piercing screech, Jay and Platt both said "what the hell" at the same time. That was when the explosion came. Jay was lifted off the ground like a puppet on invisible strings and slammed into the column in the middle of the room - followed by the table and then chunks of the wall. He hit the wall hard enough to bust though the drywall and might have still been conscious when the table and debris hit him. But who knows, he wasn't conscious now.

AT THE DISTRICT

Voight slammed his phone down and stormed out of his office, drawing all eyes to him. "We gotta roll. There was an explosion at the studio where Halstead and Platt are doing that show." There was a stunned silence as the news was digested and then a flurry of movement as everyone jumped up from their desks and headed for the roll up, in a hail of 'fuck's!' 'What the hell's! and 'Oh my God's.' Everyone but Erin, who was frozen to the spot. Hank put a hand gently on her shoulder, "Come on kid. We don't know anything yet. I'm sure he's okay." Still stunned, Erin, grabbed her jacket and followed him out of the bullpen.

AT THE STUDIO

A minute later, an hour, maybe ten minutes later, the dust had settled a bit and Platt let out a groan that turned quickly into a cough from whatever dust she had inhaled. Getting her bearings she looked around at the rubble that surrounded her. "Miller! Halstead!" She remembered that Miller had left the room, "Halstead! Halstead! Can you hear me? HALSTEAD!"

She quickly checked for any damage to herself and was grateful to find that she had escaped with just some bumps and bruises. Then she sought out her detective, worried at what she might find. She stepped over the debris and moved to where Halstead might have ended up from the blast. The first thing she saw of him was his limp, dust covered hand in the rubble next to the support column. She moved carefully around the column and could see Halstead's legs sticking out from under the rubble and behind a broken table. "Halstead! Halstead, hang in there. I'm gunna get you out of there." She was hoping she wasn't talking to a body and just talking to an unconscious Jay when she didn't get an answer.

The inner mantra playing over and over in her mind was, 'please be alive, please be a live, please be alive.' When she had moved enough of the rubble, she carefully moved the table off of Jay. When she took in his condition, her inner mantra was interrupted with a sad, 'there's no way he's alive.' Followed by "fuck, fuck, fuck," which she thinks she said out loud.

He was basically sitting against the column, covered in dust, blood and pastries, legs splayed, one hand on his lap, the other to his side. He was leaning slightly to the left, head laying on his chest. The right side of his face and head seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage from the table. There was a trail of blood running through the dust on his face from a cut above his eyebrow and another at his hair line. He has a split lip and another smaller cut, that was barely bleeding, across the bridge of his nose. There is a compound fracture, luckily barely breaking the skin, in the hand that's lying in his lap and he has a butter knife stuck deep into his shoulder. But what worried her most, is the piece of rebar sticking out of the right side of his abdomen.

She leaned in to check for a pulse and is startled by Jay's rasp of a voice, "By…my count…you've said 'fuck'…eight…times, you need to put…$40 into…your 'no swearing bucket."

He hadn't moved or opened his eyes but she'd never been so happy to hear his voice. "I don't pay in hotshot, that's for everyone else, I just take out. You just said "fuck" so I'll be expecting $5."

"Hmph. Ya, we'll see…" He paused a second and grimaces in pain, "…what happened?"

"Something blew up."

"Miller?"

"I don't know Halstead, he wasn't in the room with us and I don't know what other parts of the building were damaged in the blast."

"Hmm…"

With that he tried to shift his body a little, which caused him to cry out in pain, leaving him panting and trying to breathe through it. When that doesn't work he moved his hand to the pain in his abdomen. As soon as his hand hit the rebar, he released an ear splitting scream and passed out. "Jay? Jay…". She put her fingers on his neck and found a pretty strong pulse, considering.

She looked around trying to assess their situation. Stumbling to where she thought the door was, she called for help and got no response. She moved to the other side of the room and called again, still no response. Jay groaned and she moved back to him.

"Platt…Platt…" He still hasn't opened his eyes so she put a hand on each side of his face, "Right here Jay, right here."

"You called…me by my…first…name, things…must be pretty…bad."

"Ya, well, hmm. Listen Halstead, I need to get a better look at that knife and rebar poking out of your body, okay? I'm going to try to be gentle and not move you."

"Okay,…" She started to lean around to get a view of his back, when he finished his thought, "…I am a little worried about your version of 'gentle' though."

"Well, why don't we just find out, so don't be a chicken Halstead. We'll start with the easy part first." She feels the back of his shoulder and the knife hasn't come all the way through. "So far so good." Without moving him she slides her hand in the small gap between the wall and his lower back and slowly starts to move her hand up. She barely touched the rebar and Jay throws his head backing a silent scream and promptly passes out, his head falling back to his chest.

"Fuck." She again checks for a pulse - still there but it seemed weaker.

Platt used the ten minutes or so Jay was out to scream for help and pound on whatever part of the wall that's still visible. Her periodic checks on Jay show no change and she got no response to her calls for help from the outside world. All the noise she is making must of roused Jay because she hears a low groan coming from him.

She crouched down next to him and felt his pulse, the same. She put a hand on either side of his face and he slowly raised his head so he is facing her. His face now has a fine sheen of cold sweat.

"Jay? Jay, I need you to open your eyes and look at me."

"Mm."

His eyes flutter open but they aren't focused. His pupils are uneven, definitely a concussion but how bad, she doesn't know. He blinked his eyes a few times and they slowly come into focus until she can tell he is finally seeing her.

"Sarge, your…bleeding are you…okay?" She touched the bloody cut on her cheek and shook her head. Right on par for Halstead, asking her if she's okay. "I'm fine Jay, it's you I'm worried about." He winced and closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again as he tried to slow his breathing to to help with the pain.

"That's it Jay, just keep breathing. Help's coming."

"Hey Sarge…" his breath caught as a wave of pain rolled through him, "Hey…Sarge, can you…can you stop…calling me Jay. You're kind of…freaking me out." His eyes lose their focus and he let out another groan.

"Halstead…hey, I need you to stay awake okay?" He didn't respond but kept his unfocused eyes on her just the same.

She gave him a once over and noticed the wound in his abdomen was bleeding more. The blood had soaked the bottom of his shirt and was spreading to his jeans, moving towards the floor. It wasn't bleeding much at first, the bar itself was probably stemming the flow.

"Halstead, Halstead! Look at me."

His head had dropped to his chest again, but he lifted it at her command, "Sarge?"

"Hey, no sleeping. Technically your on the clock, so eyes on me." That got her a smirk. "Look…I need to check what's going on with the knife and rebar, okay?" His eyes close again, "Halstead…stay with me," he scrunched his eyes, then opened them and they're focused again. "I have to open your shirt. I need to see how bad the damage is."

He blinked his eyes as they go in and out of focus, "Awe, Sarge, you know…you just… want to check…me…out." He tried to give me his trademark smirk but it comes out looking more like a grimace.

"Dream on kid, your body ain't got nothin on Mouch."

That made him smile. As much as they engaged in their sarcastic, demeaning banter at work, there was nothing but respect for each other behind it. He was happy for her and Mouch, two really good people who deserved to find each other. She was so in love with her fireman, it was actually kind of cute. He'd never tell her that though.

"You keep telling…yourself that, Sarge…Your…secret is safe…with me." That earned him her famous 'if looks could kill' glare. It made him glad he wasn't a criminal booked into the 21st. Trudy Platt's personality gave Hank Voight's cage a run for its money - neither one being a pleasant place for criminals.

"Here we go…" She slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, careful not to move it too much. He sucked in a breath and grimaced as she got to the last two buttons. "I know kid, I know. Bear with me." He closed his eyes but he's still with her, just focusing on his breathing. He's got a lot of blood on his chest and abdomen but she still can't see the entrance wounds. "I'm going to cut your shirt a bit Jay. I can't see the wounds well enough, ok?" She didn't wait for a reply even though he gave her a response in the form of a wince. She used the scissors on her pocket knife to cut from the edge of the shirt to the knife, then again from the edge to the rebar. They both wince when she carefully pulled the shirt away; him from pain, her from how bad it looked. She had thought both wounds were from the front, from the blast debris but now she sees the rebar must have been sticking out of the wall, impaling him as he slammed against it.

"Shit." Jay's basically stuck to the wall. It worried her that she wasn't getting any snark from him, the kid's passed out again.

Normally pressure would be put on a bleeding wound but this, this, is beyond her scope. With every move the bar shifts and bleeds more. Best to let the rebar itself keep the pressure for now. She felt helpless because the only thing she can do is keep him talking as they wait for help…if it was coming.

"Halstead! Hals…".

"What. Sarge…" he mumbled, "Why do … … you keep…bothering me?" He opened his eyes and again they weren't focused. He was showing the early signs of shock, clammy skin, pale and his breathing is coming in short gasping breaths.

"I know you feel like shit Jay but I need you to stay with me. You're going into shock. I need you to keep focusing on your breathing okay?"

"O…kay, Sarge. Anything…for you."

"Keep breathing. I'm going to do a bit more yelling and see if we can get ourselves rescued."

XXXXXXX

She'd been yelling and hitting the wall with a piece of wood, going back to check on Jay in-between her little yelling bursts. After her last yelling session, which ended in a frustrated scream, she went to check on Jay again. He was shivering now, causing him even more pain. She dropped to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his face, desperately trying to get him to focus on her when she hears music to her ears.

"Trudy, Trudy call out. Fire department. Call out!"

She jumped up, "Mouch, Mouch! In here." She slammed her palm against the wall. "We're in here."

"Oh, thank God. Trudy! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine but Halstead's bad. He needs help fast."

Severide cuts in, "Platt, stand back. We're going to cut through."

"Okay, moving now."

She went back to Jay and tried to get him to focus on her again as the saws start cutting through the wall. "It's going to be okay. They're here, help is here, Jay."

The saw made quick work of the wall and less than 5 minutes later their rescuers were rushing into the room, Casey and Severide leading the way followed by Gaby and Sylvie. Platt moved away then to give the medics more room to work, giving Mouch a quick hug, then filling them in on Jay's injuries.

"The rebar has him stuck to the wall. He's been in and out of consciousness and has been growing less and less coherent."

Severide and Casey bent down on either side of Jay assessing the situation. Sylvie get's an IV going while Gaby puts a collar and an oxygen mask on him, to which Jay instantly freaks out. They try to get him to calm down but he continued to claw at the collar and mask, eyes wide with fear.

Platt realized what was going on, knowing Jay's file inside and out, "He's claustrophobic, take it off, take it off! He's hurting himself."

By this time Gaby has already started to remove the items in question, guessing correctly what is going on.

Sylvie grabbed the IV line, "Pushing 6 of Ketamine." Jay almost immediately started to calm down but the trembling of his body continues, although it has lessened. Considering his injuries, the most the Ketamine will do is calm him and maybe take the edge off the pain, so unfortunately the guy is still conscious. "We have to move fast, that's going to last 15 minutes at the most and it's the max we can give in the field."

Gaby has finished cutting the rest of Jay's shirt off when the whole of Intelligence rushed in, led by Voight with Erin rushing past him to Jay's side and touching his cheek.

"Jay, babe. I'm here. Hey, we're all here. You're going to be okay. They're gunna get you out of here. Just stay with us okay."

As soon as Jay heard Erin's voice his eyes sprung open. "Er, hey…it's okay…I'm fine," he whispered, pain still etched on his face.

Erin gave him an exasperated sigh.

He responded with a weak chuckle, mumbling, "okay, kinda…fine."

She touched his cheek again in response to his weak joke, then moved back so the firefighters can do there thing.

Trudy had just finished filling in Hank and the guys on what had happened, their eyes never leaving Jay, when Erin joined the group. They stand there helpless, all they can do is watch.

"Okay, Jay…"

Jay tried to focus on who was talking but there were too many people, so he just looked in the general direction of the voice.

Severide continued, "Jay, I need to lean you forward just a bit so we can see the rebar; you're going to lean against Casey. He won't let you go too far. We just need a little room to see, okay."

Casey moved into position, kneeling at Jay's right side, putting one hand on Jay's upper back and the other across his chest. He was leaning in towards Jay's right shoulder, ready to brace him when they move him forward, then he moved forward the last few inches, barely touching Jay's body, "Jay, can you put your chin on my shoulder." It took Jay a second and it was a bit of a struggle but finally he was able do it.

Intelligence watched the scene play out in front of them, all worried about Halstead.

"Jay…Jay…"

"What…Now?… shhhhit…"

This earned a shake of the head from Al and a quiet, "Damn kid."

Severide chuckled, "Jay, we're going to start now. Casey's got you, okay. Here we go…"

Casey gave Severide a nod and they move Jay forward maybe an inch. Jay let out a loud groan through clenched teeth and pushed his forehead into Casey's shoulder.

Casey gave his back a rub, "I know, I know buddy. You're doing great. Just hold on, we're almost there."

Casey and Severide exchange a look, while Jay was trying to catch his breath. Whatever they just communicated to each other, wasn't good.

Severide broke the news, noticing the trembling in Jay's body has increased as Casey continued to hold Jay's body in place.

"Ok, here's the scoop Jay, you're going into shock so we have to move fast. Casey's going to hold you right there," he held up a small hand held saw with a round blade, "I'm going to have to cut through the rebar. We can't pull you off of it, you'll lose too much blood. We'll transfer you to the hospital with it still in you."

Jay groaned, not really able to focus on the saw but the words were cutting through the pain loud and clear.

"I'm not going to lie, buddy, this is going to hurt like a bitch but it will be quick - it's a diamond blade but there's still going to be a vibration." Severide gave Casey a nod.

"Ya ready buddy."

"Jus…do it."

Severide gave a last look at Intelligence. The worry on their faces mirrored his own.

"Okay, here we go, Casey?"

"I got him. I got ya Jay…here we go."

Severide gave a nod and started the saw. As soon as it touched the rebar, Jay lifted his head from Casey's shoulder, screamed in agony and then collapsed unconscious against Casey. Severide was right. It was quick but to Jay it probably felt like a million years.

Intelligence rushed forward, surrounding the group trying to save Jay. Casey was still holding him while Gaby got the backboard ready and Brett put the cervical collar and oxygen mask back on him now that he's passed out. The three of them and Severide moved with synchronicity, Severide held his broken hand so it didn't get jostled, while the other three slowly lowered Jay onto the board, keeping him on his right side and worked to stabilize him in that position with foam wedges.

Gaby placed a wedge under Jay's head, while Sylvie, Casey and Severide put them along his body, avoiding the rebar and knife. Gaby then positioned a moldable foam block under the rebar so it didn't move and repeated the action for the knife in his shoulder and his hand were it rested against the board while Sylvie secured Jay's left arm to his body so it doesn't shift into the rebar.

Once they have Jay strapped in place, Severide, Casey, Ruzek and Atwater lift the board and everyone moved as a group out of the rubble.

Everyone stood by and watched as Jay was loaded into the ambulance, all wanting to help but powerless to do so. Sylvie and Gaby both get in the back of the ambulance, Casey in the front to drive. Both paramedics will be needed in the back, the bleeding around the rebar has increased significantly from the transfer out of the building.

6 HOURS LATER SURGICAL WAITING ROOM

Will walked into the waiting room and it was almost comical how they all got up at once and moved toward him for the news on Jay. The first thing he did was smile and the anxiety they were all holding in their bodies lessened. Which also made him smile. The Intelligence Unit of the 21st was very synchronized. He wouldn't be surprised if their hearts beat to the same rhythm.

"He's going to be okay - eventually. Grade 3 concussion and two broken ribs to go along with being impaled. It was touch and go when he was in surgery. He'd lost a lot of blood already and taking the rebar out was going to unblock the dam."

Trying not to pay attention to their various reactions, he quickly moved on. He just wanted to get through this as quickly as possible. Saying it all out loud was freaking him out a bit.

"We had three surgeons working on him. Oddly enough or luckily enough the bar didn't do a lot of damage to anything major. His kidney and part of his upper intestine were nicked but those were easy enough to fix."

Will did register the cringes as he listed off those injuries and was sure his face mirrored theirs.

"He's on high doses of antibiotics. Right now our only concern is the infection that is already running rampant in his body, a dirty piece of metal will do that to you. They cleaned out the area of his compound fracture but won't be able to set it until he is stable and the antibiotics are working, hopefully within the next 24 hours. So, now we wait. Maggie's going to come get you when he is situated in his room."

8 HOURS LATER Surgical ICU

Trudy Platt stood outside the sliding glass door of Jay's room just watching. She couldn't bring herself to go in yet, even though everyone had cleared out to give her some time with Jay on her own.

She stood there and contemplated Jay Halstead's life and what he'd gone through. It's part of her job to know EVERYTHING about EVERYONE in the 21st District. There was a lot to know about this kid. This was all just more bullshit on top of the bullshit that he'd already gone through in his young life.

She took in the young detective lying unconscious in the hospital bed, the head of which was slightly raised. Sheet to waist, no gown, hooked up to machines and monitors that she doesn't care to know about, as long as they keep him alive.

Every injury visible, well, at least the ones on the outside. The knife wound in his shoulder is covered by a small, slightly bloody bandage. They were able to remove the knife easily enough and it didn't cause any real damage. The cuts above his eyebrow and at his hairline have been stitched, his split lip and smaller cuts have been left to heal on their own. Someone had cleaned most of the dirt and blood off his face.

His concussion was another story and will definitely, at least for awhile, keep him down for the count. But it was his torso that her eyes were drawn to, covered in bruises and small cuts that she hadn't noticed before and a white bandage and drainage tube has taken the place of the rebar.

She thought about what was going on underneath those bruises and the pain that kid must have been going through. She stared, eyes glassy with unshed tears that she quickly blinks away. Her eyes traveled back up to his face. His face had looked somewhat peaceful, if battered, when she first arrived but now his eyes dart back and forth beneath his lids while his mouth parts, then twists in agony. It wasn't until his body arched off the bed that she sprung into action and went to him.

"Jay? Jay…it's okay…shhh…"

His exhausted body had fallen back to the bed but he was still stuck in the physical and mental pain of the nightmare. Telling him it was okay does nothing to alleviate that pain.

"Jay…" she put a hand gently on his shoulder, "Jay…" when he didn't settle she moved her hands to his face and leaned in, "Jay, I need you to wake up now, you're okay…Halstead…it's Platt, you're in the hospital…wake up."

He stilled and gradually his eyes flutter open.

"You're going to be alright Jay, you're at med." She searched his eyes for awareness continuing to keep her hands on either his face.

"Sarge?" he rasped.

He's back. Then an interesting array of emotions crossed his face; fear, confusion, embarrassment and lastly, relief. His eyes continued to focus on her, his lifeline between the nightmare and reality.

"You're okay. I'll be right here."

He let out a painful huff of breath. Only then did she remove her hands from his face and pull the chair up closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving her. She put her hand on his arm and left it there as she sat down.

"I'll be right here." A small smile touched his lips as his eyes flutter and he slipped back into unconsciousness. "I'll be right here."

XXXXXXX

She watched him slowly make his way up the steps, shook her head and sighed. His pale face is still bruised. His left arm is held tightly to his side; a body stiff with pain causing an occasional grimace to break through his stoic facade. He's probably supposed to be wearing a sling but she knew that wasn't going to happen, at least not in public.

His evaluation for desk duty wasn't even scheduled yet. We all knew the stubborn ass would show up well before he was cleared to work. And here he was, gimping up the steps, causing her to lose the bet. The betting pool was up to $1200 last time she checked. She had guessed eight days after he left the hospital. It's been six, the little shit.

Platt was giving a rookie the what for when Jay finally made it into the district. She looked at him and for a moment their eyes met. There was something more now than the mutual respect; friendship, protectiveness? Who knows, just something.

The eye contact on Platt's side quickly changed to her patented look of disdain; a look that would burns holes into those 'lucky' enough to be in her presence, a look he knew all too well and has missed. He broke into a shit kicking grin in response, he's home.

"Hey Sarge! Missed me, huh?"

She is incredulous. "Of course not. You look like crap and are mucking up the scenery."

He looked around at all of the drunks, two-bit criminals and prostitutes clogging up the waiting area and chuckled…yup. He's home.