Hi, so here is another chapter and again this one deals with a lot of episodes crammed into one chapter so please be aware that somethings might me missed or mixed around. There will be a significant time jump between episodes in the next chapter so please keep that in mind as well.

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

Please Read and Review and let me know what you think.

And TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR any case that involves SVU or Olivia Benson.

What Lies Buried

Chapter 13-True Lies

As Bridget adjusts to life back in Chicago, Olivia Benson comes to town to help find the head of the snake. Roman and Kim get caught in a deadly situation (well Roman does…twice) and Erin leaves and then comes back. (Multiple episodes covered in this chapter.)

June 2015

Walking back into Intelligence was odd…it was easy because a cop had been shot and therefore everyone was hyper and nobody stopped to gossip or gape or stare at her and it was odd because it was just like she had never left when she got upstairs.

She got a half hug from Adam, an actual hug from both Erin and Nadia. Kevin patted her on the shoulder and Antonio nodded which was the standard greeting for Antonio anyway. Only Al seemed to shoot her a strange look as he looked from her to Hank and back again but he mercifully said nothing. Bridget dropped her bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the desk like Nadia both of them watching and both of them saying nothing.

The cop that had been killed had been guarding what they thought was the main man here in Chicago—only he wasn't. That had led them back here only to find out that the only relative he had was a woman in a nursing home who wasn't really related to him either.

That had come from Detective Amaro, he and Rollins were down from SVU. Rollins she had met before. Amaro she had never seen even when she had been in New York.

"Mother of God he is hot" she muttered under her breathe so only Nadia could hear and Nadia cracked a small smile that immediately dropped into something more sombre when Trudy came up the stairs to tell them that Olivia Benson was on the phone and that she didn't care if the cop killer made it back alive.

That was rather…distressing.

She had not really thought about the cop that had died but the more she sat there watching the more she thought that it could have been Jay, or Adam, or Kevin or any of the other men and woman in this room that did little jobs like this for overtime. Hell Jay had done a load of it last year to accommodate two food bills once a month. She had always known that the job was dangerous—she had always know it came with a cost but Bridget had never seen the cost so openly as she did when Trudy walked back down the stairs looking as if she was ten years older than what she actually was.

"Hey…you ok?"

It was Hank. Bridget blinked. She had not realised that everyone had gone, on phones or was doing something. She had been so lost in her own world that she had failed to realise.

She wondered if at some point she was not going to find the look of concern on his face unnerving. Having a father who cared was still…strange.

"Yeah" she said nodding. "Just…readjusting I suppose. You need me to do something?"

"No…look if you want to go back to Jay's then you can"

Bridget shook her head. She was not sure if she wanted to stay here—especially when Olivia Benson crashed through the front door—but she did know that she didn't want to go home and stare at four walls. She might do something stupid. Utterly stupid.

Like read that fucking letter in her bedside draw.

Ugh no. Getting used to one new parent was enough.

"I can stay here. I want to stay here. Just let me know what you need me to do"

And that seemed to be the end of that.

The small dark haired girl was sat there swinging her legs on the chair. She had barely touched her food and though Nadia was spending time with her she seemed to only relax when she could see Erin.

Bridget had photocopied all the files and she had found herself sat Nadia's desk watching the photo board. It was hard to fathom that so many children went missing every year and were never seen again, that so many fell through the cracks and disappeared and were just gone…

She looked at that dark haired girl again and felt the urge to wrap herself up. The dark haired girl was still sat at the table. There was no word on the cop killer and there was no word on what was happening next.

"Where's Voight?"

"Jesus…oh hi Commander"

It was Commander Fisher. Bridget stood up and wished that she was in something other than a pair of jeans. She didn't know what Hank had, had to pull to get her this job but she knew that it didn't sit right with the white shirts—but then again did anyone hear really care about that?

"Hello…Bridget…"

"He's not here—"

"She's the girl SVU found?"

One look at Nadia had the other girl closing the door in a way that was almost natural.

"Yeah. I don't think…information's a bit slow at the moment"

Commander Fisher shot her a look and then sighed.

"I'm not completely inhuman" he said finally sitting down on the desk. "I know how cases like this work. You don't push the children until the children are ready to talk and even then…it stays with you. Even without a cop's blood on the floor"

"Yeah"

She didn't know what to say to that but she was aware that the commander was still staring at her.

"Christ you look like your mother"

She started.

"Huh?"

"He didn't tell you did he?"

"Who—Han—Voight?"

Fisher smiled. "I was one of the investigators who helped that night. I was halfway up the ladder and the hospital were being…difficult so Al called me. He was like a man possessed—I don't think he slept for the first week"

"Oh"

"Yeah. I don't even want to think about what it's been like for him. Hell I nearly had a heart attack when I had out. Roy cracked open a bottle of scotch and drank like he was twenty again. It was a big thing for all of us."

Bridget had no idea why he was telling him that and perhaps it showed in her face because he smiled at her—an actual smile-which until this moment she had never been a hundred percent sure that Fisher was even capable of a smile.

"I know he's difficult…as a friend he's difficult…as a cop he's a nightmare. But…he tries. I know he doesn't…he tries and he nearly ripped the city apart trying to find you"

"I know…" he was being honest with her and so she found that she wanted to be honest with him—also she was pretty sure he could fire her.

"It's just…hard…it's like…there's two Bridget's somewhere and I have to find a way to live with each of them"

Fisher nodded. Bridget was not sure that he got what she was trying to say—hell she was not even sure she got what she was trying to say but…

"If you want to talk to someone talk to someone. The department's got great people to talk to."

"Err…thanks…"

"No problem."

"Commander"

Oh good. Hank was here.

To his credit she knew that he had not been listening at the stairs. It was hard to do that in this department it was an open floor plan after all. He shot her a small smile and she smiled back.

"A word Hank"

"Yeah"

They walked to the office together and Bridget sat back down breathing in and out through her nose and wondering what it must be like (and not for the first time) to have an uncomplicated life.

But then she caught sight of the little brown haired girl and she thought that in reality, her life had been pretty good by comparison.

They were handing over the case.

Fisher at least had the balls to tell him himself. Fisher who had been sat talking to Bridget. Fisher who looked as if he wanted to say something but then changed his mind halfway through. Which was good. Hank didn't want to talk about Bridget with Fisher. He didn't want to talk about Bridget with anyone. Not when things were…good…

And they were good. It wasn't what it was before but he wasn't expecting it to be. It was better than it was when she could barely look at him. Between New York and Chicago something in the equilibrium had shifted and they were on something that felt like the right track and he was not losing that for anything.

Except he just wanted to finish closing this case. He wanted to put the head of the snake away not just for the dead police officer but for Teddy, for Henry, for Jocelyn, for the little girl and for all the kids just like them.

There was a knock at the door.

It was Bridget.

"Take it is not good news then?"

"No. They wanna take the case away from me"

"Cause of Erin's brother?"

She had made coffee.

She put down the mug and then sat on the couch with her own mug and Hank was reminded of the day when she had sauntered in her demanding a job and he had given her one because it had been such a ballsy thing to do he had been quite impressed.

"Yeah. Also…fresh eyes I suppose"

"You know Fisher can smile?"

He grinned.

"Yeah he does it rarely. But his face does work those muscles"

"Amazed it doesn't crack"

He laughed and she smiled back at him and it was moments like these that he was so glad he had gotten back because moments like these were so precious it had ripped him into pieces thinking he wouldn't get them back.

"Maybe it's a good thing? If fresh eyes—"

"No—this is Intelligence's case. End off"

Bridget tapped her fingernails against her mug and Hank suddenly remembered when he had come home with fifty grand in a duffel bag and Camille had been watching him from the kitchen with that same little habit.

"I asked Olivia Benson to come down and help"

"I thought you would"

"I know…I know you two had a conversation in New York"

Bridget shot him a look.

"Diplomacy is all wrong on you, you know that?"

"Bridget"

"Hank"

He shot her a look and she laughed and he couldn't help but laugh to. It was natural and normal and good.

"Look…she said somethings, I don't know, maybe I needed to hear them…maybe…I can be civil"

Hank thought of Jay, of Camille, of Justin and said without thinking…

"Can you?"

"Hey. This was my space first. She wants a fight she can get one but this was my space first. Besides there's bigger things to worry about"

"Aha"

She tapped her nails on the edge of her mug again.

"You want to talk about anything?"

She paused. It was as if she was warring with herself and again the resemblance to her mother was so staggering he had to wonder why he had not seen it before.

Because you didn't want to his brain supplied helpfully.

It still didn't stop her looking like Camille when she had asked if Erin was his.

"I…I was just wondering if I could talk about—"

The door opened.

It was Al.

He took one look between them and seemed to realise that he had dropped an almighty mess by opening the door.

"Sorry I can just…"

"Don't be stupid" Bridget said hauling herself to her feet. "You've only got twenty four more hours on this after all. Is Jay spending the night"

"Yeah. You want a couple of officers to run you home"

"Please I can get the subway"

"Like hell you can"

She shot him a withering look.

"This overprotective thing coming at me from three angles? Not cool. I thought Jay was bad enough"

"Jay isn't your Dad"

That was Al and Hank could have shot him right there and then. He had been very careful about bringing up the 'D' word. He wanted her to call him…well…what he wanted didn't matter but he knew it was a careful two steps forwards, one step back game with teenagers at the best of times.

If Al had fucked up this good thing for him, Hank was going to tell Meredith about that incident in 1994—the one with the dog. See if he ever got a quiet nights sleep again.

Bridget blinked looking slightly rocked.

Her gaze went between Al and Hank for a second as if unsure how to proceed.

"I suppose not" she said finally. "I'm gonna…go…see you in the morning"

And she went with a small smile.

"Nicely done" he snarled as soon as the door shut.

Al sighed.

"Hank I don't know what's going on between the two of you on any given day. It changes too much. What I do know is that at some point reality is going to crash down upon that poor kid for the second time and the more you ease her into it the better the fallout is going to be. Now what's all this about twenty four hours left on the case?"

"This is ridiculous"

"Nadia can I borrow your lipstick or what?"

"I just don't see why you think you have to put on a hard face for this woman—"

"I told you, she called me an unfeeling bitch"

"I thought you said you were an unfeeling bitch?"

That was Erin.

Bridget had come into the locker room that morning wearing a dress. It was a nice dress—it was long sleeved and green and ended just before her knee and she was wearing tights and nice shoes. She had also done her hair. And her make up.

She looked…presentable.

Considering the last time Erin had seen Bridget she had not looked presentable. Actually she had looked a mess.

"I know and…it was just a lot to process"

"For us all"

That was true. That night after Hank had collapsed into something that might have been sleep induced by emotional exhaustion she had cracked open his vodka and gone to town. She had been torn between crying and shooting Pat Halstead. She had wanted, desperately to call Jay but she had known she wasn't welcome to do so right now.

And that was before Justin had called her in a right state because Bridget had done a runner and Hank had baby pictures.

Baby pictures.

Jesus what was she supposed to do with that one?

And then between getting hit on the head and going home she had learnt that the girl she was sure was going to keep running until exhaustion hit her was actually going to come home and here she was. Calm, collected, poised.

It was really unnerving.

Wasn't this…what they called it in SVU? Pink clouding?

Or had she completely misunderstood the situation? Was Bridget Halstead actually taking this in her stride?

Erin wasn't sure she would be in her situation.

Then again right now she was barely comfortable in her own situation.

Nadia passed her the lipstick.

"I think your blowing this out of proportion. Olivia Benson's got a reputation for being great with victims."

"I am not a victim"

Erin and Nadia shared loaded looks that thankfully Bridget did not see.

"Alright" Nadia ever the eternal optimist said with a smile.

Erin wondered if she actually believed it.

Olivia Benson swept into SVU with an presence that even the most dedicated of captains would have envied. And she was not a captain.

Not even close.

Bridget who had been sat watching her out of the corner of her eye said nothing.

It appeared she could be civil.

Erin on the other hand grabbed him on the way down the stairs.

"I think Bridget's not coping"

Hank shot her a look.

"What?"

"I mean…Hank she is very calm"

"So?"

"So…so she went from not accepting and running to accepting and calm and it's strange."

"Erin…just…not now ok…get Teddy here, let's get an ID on this guy and then we can figure out where we are going from there."

"And if Bridget implodes in the meantime"

"Erin" he dragged her into the small room that had once been Perry's kind of office.

"Have you considered the possibility that maybe she is fine?"

"Yeah. And I'm telling you she's putting up one hell of a front"

"Says you"

"Hank—I—I just don't want you getting hurt. I don't want you thinking that this is going to be ok when in reality it won't be. I don't want to be called in the middle of the night cause Justin wants to know if he has to hide your guns"

"Erin…don't…not know. I am choosing for once to believe that everything is good. And until she tells me otherwise that's all I've got the energy for"

Erin watched him and then shrugged. There was nothing more to say.

Actually there was—but Hank didn't want to hear it.

"Erin's only looking out for you, you know"

That was Olivia.

"Yeah I know"

"If Bridget is pretending that all is ok then—"

"I don't need you to spout of statistics. And I don't need you calling her anymore names."

"What?"

"I know you had a talk with her in New York"

"And if I did?"

He stopped the car.

"Olivia I told you that in confidence. I told you everything in confidence. I didn't need it being thrown back in my kids face. I don't need her being nice to me out of pity or guilt. I don't need her pretending to want me in her life and I don't need to be analysed by everyone about it. She's alive. She's healthy, she's whole…and no offense Benson but you have no idea what is going on or what that is like."

Olivia Benson looked at him.

"If I was out of line, I'm sorry. But I won't apologise for caring Hank. Bridget might be ok, I admit she might be, or she might be kidding herself that she is ok. In which case you and me both know it can go south pretty fast. I just think you should know. Ask her."

Hank said nothing.

There wasn't anything to say.

That night everything was done and dusted. They caught the head of the snake. They saluted the dead. Olivia Benson handed his sister a business card.

"Hey—"

"Jay so help me if one more person asks me if I am ok—"

"I was gonna ask do you want to get pizza tonight or Chinese"

"Oh"

"Yeah."

Bridget slid into his car.

"Erin thinks I'm crazy"

"No she doesn't"

"She thinks I'm taking it too well. That I'm going to spiral. Olivia Benson thinks so as well"

"Are you?"

"No. It's…it's…I just realised that…it's not going to change anything, I am who I am. And as much as I wish that I didn't know everything I do. And…it's a bit of a relief actually. I don't have to worry about my biological parents coming out of the woodwork or wondering what I did to make them give me up or if it was my fault. I know."

"So your fine?"

"Yes Jay, I am fine"

Jay put the car into drive and drove off. That night Bridget went to bed in her own bed and listened to the sounds of the city. She fell asleep.

She was fine.

Weeks passed.

It was not a quiet period.

First Kim was shot. Then Roman was nearly blown up by a car, Adam and Kim went public with their relationship—that was already obvious to everyone and anyone who was looking—not that anyone was, secret relationships were protected in the PD like they were the secret love children of European royal families.

Then Erin left.

But Kim was not coming upstairs.

And things were…normal.

And Bridget was doing…okay.

It was hard to put it into words. She got back in school (which had been hard but distracting which was good—except for the mounds of homework that she was doing and she found that that was distracting her.

It was also easy to think about nothing. She had to work hard about it but she wasn't thinking of Pat and she wasn't thinking about her birth mother. The letter was buried in her chemistry textbook and considering she would only open that on the rarest of rare occasions (she was failing and proud of it) she didn't bother with it.

It helped in a way that Intelligence was being normal too. In fact one day when Bridget and Nadia had both been pouring over the books they had veered into a discussion about school and homework when Al had seen some math problems and had promptly said he was too old to understand this shit.

Direct quote.

"It is true though" Kevin had mused. "The school's always on about me helping Vanessa and Jordan with their homework but to be honest it looks like another language"

"Eva is learning another language" Antonio said forlornly "And that doesn't help at all"

"Doesn't Eva speak fluent Spanish?"

"Yeah. She know wants to learn French"

"Boy" Bridget muttered. Nadia snorted. Antonio glared at them both.

"Why" Adam said from where he had taken Bridget's history textbook. "Would you want to know about the Industrial Revolution of England in the 1800s? Why do we need to know this?"

"You don't. I do" Bridget said not looking up. "And it's for a test"

"I hated history" Adam said sighing. "I hated everything but sport."

"Course you did" Antonio said with an eye roll. "Personally I hated physics. Didn't see the point"

"Never saw the point of trig" Kevin said sagely.

"Nobody sees the point of trig" Bridget said sighing. "It's a painful subject designed to torture. Only thing that's worse is Chemistry"

"Oh I liked—"

"Adam if you make a chemistry joke I will have you reassigned to uniform"

"Sorry boss"

That was Voight.

"And when we are done with this charming trip down memory lane can we please get our reports up to scratch. Commander Fisher would like them all done soon and detailed"

"Ugh"

"Adam"

"I'm doing it boss"

That night Erin Lindsey knocked on the door to Jay Halstead's apartment.

Things were good. Things were really good. Erin and he…

Things were good.

Erin in her underwear kissed him. In his kitchen and Jay was just about to pull her back to bed and carry on where they had left things last night when.

"Good morning brother"

Shit.

He nearly dropped Erin. She caught herself just before she hit the floor and he turned feeling like he was fifteen again to see his sixteen year old sister in her pyjama's with an expression of supreme smugness.

"Detective Lindsey. To what do we owe the pleasure? So early in the morning—tell me do the FBI do casual Mondays?"

He was going to kill her.

Erin looked from Bridget to Jay.

"I was…er…"

"Shagging my brother"

"BRIDGET ANNA—"

"It's okay Jay" Bridget said in that sing song voice. "I understand you have needs—"

Shoot him, shoot him now. Someone. Anyone. Please.

"But can you not do it in the kitchen. You know the place where we all eat"

Erin managed to smoother her laugh just in time. Jay closed his eyes. Seriously this was only going to encourage his sister.

"Sure Bridget. Sure."

"Okay…I'm going to go back to bed. And put in my headphones."

She turned at the edge of the kitchen and then turned around with a smile of such sweetness that it wouldn't have fooled even the most wettest of perps.

"I do hope that Hank's okay with this. Would hate it if he wasn't…"

She walked away.

"HATE IT" came the distant shout.

"Does Hank still want her in his life?" Jay asked. He was genuinely going to die of embarrassment. And he knew his sister and he knew her well. By ten in the morning Will would know all about this.

"Fraid so"

Great. So murder was off the table then.

Two days later Erin was back in Intelligence.

"Sometimes" Hank said the night to Al over a beer. "It really is like raising fucking kids again"

"Yeah" Al said eyeing up his glass as if he could magically pour red into it with the power of his mind.

"But admit it Hank. You wouldn't have it any other way"

Hank thought about it. And though he didn't want to tell Al he had to admit his best friend was right.

He really wouldn't have it any other way.

There you are, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I think we only have two maybe three more before we get to the end of Season 2 and then go into Season 3. I might have to extend this story by a couple more chapters as well so it might be 26 chapters instead of 24 to bring it to it's conclusion.

But we shall see.

Next Chapter-Some time has passed and all seems well. Except it's Bridget's birthday and neither she nor Hank know really what to do. But a missing kid, a shootout in the middle of the night, a gang war, back street surgery and the arrival of Will Halstead might be a good distraction nonetheless.