Did you guys see that winter finale?! I really want to hate the writers, but they are such geniuses that I just can't. I'm so sad that I have to wait so long for the next episode...Soooooo, I wrote this chapter to make myself feel better. I made the first part relatively happy to balance out the sadness. :) Please enjoy.

Chapter Eight: To Dust Or To Gold

(Centuries – Fall Out Boy)

"Why don't we go back now?" Ruzek suggested.

Lindsay shook her head. "Ju-Just to the front doors."

Ruzek sighed. "Lindsay, you don't have to push yourself. You've been walking for longer than recommended. I know you're tough-"

"I've got to get better," she snapped. "I want to help."

"Okay." Ruzek surrendered. "But only to the nearest entrance alright? The ambulance entrance should be just around the corner."

Lindsay smiled. "Honestly Ruzek, I'm fine. The hardest part about walking is having to carry around this damn pole."

"That damn pole is keeping you alive."

"I don't need the damn pole."

Ruzek shook his head, laughing. "Yes you do detective badass," he teased as they turned the corner. "See there are the doors I was talking about. Can we go back to your room now?" He turned to face the hallway they came from.

Lindsay opened her mouth to reply, but she stopped herself. She paused for a moment before finally speaking.

"Is that...Peter Mills?"

Ruzek turned to face where she was looking. Sure enough, Peter Mills was at the receptionist's desk, filling out paperwork. "Yeah. Why?"

"He's the one who brought me here right?"

"Again; Yeah. Why?"

"Can I go talk to him?"

Ruzek opened his mouth, but stopped when he saw Lindsay's death glare. Instead, he just shrugged. "Go ahead," he groaned.

At a steady pace, the two detectives made their way across the room to Peter Mills. When they reached him Lindsay tapped him on the shoulder and gave him the biggest smile she could manage.

"Detective Lindsay. Detective Ruzek," the paramedic greeted.

"Hey Mills," Lindsay said. "I was just walking around and," she paused, "I saw you here. I wanted to say thank you. For saving my life."

He shook it off. "I'm sure you would've crawled to the hospital on your own if we hadn't shown up."

"If the way she's dragging me around this hospital is any indication," Ruzek added, "She definitely would have."

"Sorry about Halstead," Mills added. "I may not be Voight's biggest fan, but he gets the job done. If anyone can find your partner, it's Voight."

Lindsay's smile died a bit, but she managed to keep it on her face. "Yeah," she mumbled. "What're you doing here anyways?"

"You didn't know?"

The two detective's exchanged confused looks.

"Voight and the rest of your team raided a warehouse-"

"We know that much," Ruzek interrupted.

Mills didn't seem offended by the interruption. "They found the girl," he continued, "Shelby Blanc, but there was this elaborate rig set up around her. It was a bomb hooked up to a bunch of AK-47's...or something like that. Anyways, they were able to diffuse it, but they had to get the girl to cut a wire and her timing was off. Antonio got shot."

"Dawson got what?" The two detectives spat at the same time.

"Oh no!" Mills blurted. "He's fine. I'll take you to him. I think he's getting stitched now. Brett's with him."

He handed his clipboard to the lady sitting across the desk from him. He them lead Lindsay and Ruzek down a short hallway to a room. He pointed inside.

Brett was leaning up against a wall, while Dawson sat in the bed. He was wearing his street clothes, but his shirt had been removed. A nurse was stitching up his arm.

"Antonio," Lindsay said softly.

"What're you doing up and about? Shouldn't you be resting? You're injured remember?" Dawson asked.

Lindsay smiled and shook her head. "Yeah, and what? Did you get jealous and decide to join me?"

Ruzek smirked. "That's what it looks like to me." He patted his fellow male detective on his non-injured shoulder. "Classy, really."

"Oh shut up," Dawson groaned. "Both of you."

"Well," Mills said. "Brett and I should get back to the station. Severide will be glad to hear you're doing so well Lindsay."

"Don't tell Gabby I got shot," Dawson pleaded. "It's the third time in the past three years and I'd rather not worry her again if I don't have to."

Lindsay smirked. "Yeah, you bullet magnet."

"That's real rich coming from you," Dawson remarked. "You got a concussion how many weeks ago?"

Lindsay just rolled her eyes. Brett laughed, "I make no promises detective, but will you do me a favour though?"

"What's the favour?" Ruzek asked.

"When you find out what's on the flash drive, could you give us a call? Gabby- She's worried. We all are."

"We don't need details," Mills clarified. "Just- In general. If you get the chance."

"Of course," Dawson promised.

The paramedics said their goodbyes and left. The nurse finished up, wrapping his arm up in a sling and excused herself. The now very exhausted Lindsay went to sit down in the chair beside Dawson's bed, but the male detective shook his head.

"You take the bed," he insisted. "I'll take the chair."

Lindsay was too tired to argue, so she slid into the bed as soon as Dawson slid out of it. She looked at him intensely and spoke up, "You've got to tell me what they meant about a flash drive. I want to know everything." Ruzek nodded in agreement.

Dawson sighed. "Well..."

"We found your daughter," Voight announced, entering the interrogation room where Dr. Richard Blanc still sat.

The surgeon perked up. "Shelby? She's okay?"

The detective nodded emotionlessly. "She's fine."

"Thank you so much detective. I really can't-"

"Don't," Voight snapped. "You don't get to act like you're the victim here. You don't get to thank me and cry like none of this is your fault. You nearly killed one of my detectives. You're the bad guy here. So, I suggest you shut up before you say something that upsets me further."

"They had my daughter," the surgeon whispered. "My little girl. Don't you have children?"

Voight was silent.

"Is there anything you wouldn't do to keep your children safe?"

Slowly, Voight turned to the door and opened it. Before leaving though, he paused. He did not speak though. The surgeon already knew the answer, and therefore, no words were needed.

Atwater leaned back in his chair, twirling the small memory stick around in his fingers. The room was filled with silence. Ranger (Platt's tech guy) stood quietly in the corner of the room. He had been told very clearly that he was not to speak or even move unless he noticed something significant with the computer or memory stick.

Roman was upstairs with Nadia and the Blanc girl. Voight hadn't wanted him to see whatever was on the file. He had even seemed apprehensive about Atwater being in the room, but had said nothing of the thought.

It was the room that Jin had always seemed to be in. Atwater had never been close to Jin. He'd talked to the guy only a couple times and the fact that Atwater was the deceased's replacement made him feel weird about anything involving Jin.

And now, he was to view whatever horrid files the memory stick held in the room of the late Sheldon Jin.

Without speaking, Olinsky and Voight entered the small area. Atwater looked at the older detectives. Olinsky nodded. Voight stared at the computer screen, as if afraid he might miss something if he looked away for even a moment.

Atwater slipped the memory stick into it's port. A pop up appeared on the screen. Atwater slowly moved the mouse so it hovered above the words: open and view files. After a brief pause, he pressed down on the mouse.

There were two items shown now. One was a video file labelled View First. The second was a document labelled Second. After looking at Ranger and getting a nod, Atwater clicked on the video file.

There was a room. It was clearly made of cement. The place looked run down and old, as though no one had used the building in years. The room was empty. There were no windows or doors in sight. The room was lit well enough so that the detectives could clearly see the whole space, but it was darker that most rooms. Whatever the light source, it came from behind the camera.

Unease ran through the detectives for the longest five seconds Voight ever experienced. The five seconds of nothing happening when Jay Halstead walked in front of the camera.

He was wearing a large, bulky jacket which confused the detectives. His left hand hung limp at his side while his right was clenched in a tight fist. He seemed beaten and was still bruised, but not much more than he was in the photo Platt got in her mailbox. His eyes were tired though, but defiant. Somehow he still managed to look strong. He stared straight into the camera.

"Hansen Kane," he said plainly.

A brief silence followed. Voight didn't take his eyes off the screen for even a moment, but he did raise his hands to his face. He cussed under his breath.

Halstead took a deep breath. "It's your fault Hank Voight and there's nothing you- or anyone else- can do to make it better."

Another pause.

Just before the video ended, Halstead spoke up again. "This is on you." There was a very specific tone in his voice though. It was similar to the tone one would use when consoling a friend.

The video slipped off the computer screen.

"Hansen Kane?" Olinsky asked.

The sergeant of Intelligence took a heavy breath, "The document," he instructed. His voice was quiet though, as if he had been winded and could barely gather the air he needed to speak.

Atwater clicked on the document. It read:

You may wear a badge, but you are no enforcer of the law. You are a criminal, acting as an enforcer of justice. I'm the opposite of you Hank Voight. I am an enforcer of justice, acting as a criminal. There is no way for you to make right your mistakes, just as there is no way for you to save your detective. It's such a shame that he has to die for your sins. I hope he's said his goodbyes.

After all the detective's had read the file, Voight let out a breath and finally spoke up.

"Ruzek should be arriving here soon. I asked Dawson to watch Lindsay, since he has to be at the hospital anyways. We'll meet him upstairs and I'll explain everything I know about Hansen Kane." He turned to Ranger. "Take this file and find whatever you can from it."

Atwater left the room. Ranger soon followed with the memory stick. Olinsky turned to his friend.

"These guys aren't joking around," he said. "They knew Halstead would try to mix up the dialogue and drop hits if they gave him too much to say. But he still tried to communicate through the tone of his voice. Did you catch it? When he said it was on you?"

Voight nodded. "He sounded sympathetic."

"Seemed to me as though he was saying it wasn't your fault. Halstead's strong. He's hanging in there and he wants you to know that."

Voight just shook his head. "I know he's strong."

Olinsky smiled lightly. "It's not about him though. He's not the one who really needs to hang in there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's means they're waging war on you. They're playing mind games and if you don't hang in there, they'll win. The photo, the video, the document. They're trying to beat you down mentally. Halstead, Lindsay, they're just pawns to these bastards. You're the target. You're the one who needs to be strong."

"Yeah," Voight agree under his breath.

"You could learn a thing or two from that kid."

"Hansen Kane was the son of a criminal named Nolan Kane," Voight began. "His mother left them when they were young. Nolan was incredibly abusive towards his son. Whenever he wasn't out dealing drugs, he was beating Hansen senseless. Needless to say, Nolan Kane was a very bad man.

"He wasn't high up on the food chain though. I dealt with this case ten years ago. I got Nolan's name from one of his buyers in exchange for a lesser sentence. I went to his house, but only Hansen was home.

"He was a damn nice kid, considering all he'd been through. He was sixteen at the time, covered from head to toe in bruises and cigarette burns, yet he wore a huge smile on his face. He let me in and assured me that his father surely had nothing to do with any sort of drug-dealing. I asked him about all the bruises and burns...he said it was his fault, but nothing else about it. He kept changing the subject."

"Bruises and burns..." Ruzek muttered. He pulled out his phone and opened the photo they'd received of Halstead on his phone. "It's just like they did to Halstead. You think they're recreating what happened to Hansen Kane?"

"I hope not," Voight answered.

"Why?" Roman asked. "What happened to him?"

"I left Hansen my card and told him to call me when his dad return home. He called me at midnight that very day. He sounded really tired and exhausted. Warned me that his father wasn't in a good mood. I asked if he could leave the house for a couple hours, so he snuck out his bed room window and stayed the night at his girlfriend's house."

"That doesn't make sense," Ruzek admitted. "I get him blaming himself for his father's abusiveness and trying to keep you from suspecting his father of being involved with drugs, but that type of behaviour completely contradicts the type of behaviour that he showed by calling you and sneaking out."

"I don't think he ever truly believed he was to blame or that his father was innocent," Voight explained. "He just didn't want to make anything worse by talking to me. I think when he knew I was for sure coming to arrest him, he saw a way out and he took it."

Ruzek nodded. "So, did you get Nolan that night?"

Voight shook his head. "He was at the house when we got to there, but we didn't have a lot of officers there that night and he was able to escape. He became a fugitive that night."

"And Hansen?"

"We let him keep the apartment. He continued to pay the rent, go to school. I stayed in touch with him, checked up on him. I took it upon myself to make sure he did was able to recover from all those years of abuse."

"So, you took care of him like you did with Lindsay?"

"No. I brought him food and sometimes I'd hang around his house and keep him company. I tried to be a good father figure for him. I even ended up meeting one his closest friends and his girlfriend a few times. I looked after him, made sure he stayed on the straight and narrow, but I never told anyone about him. Not even Alvin."

Voight smiled. "He was such a good kid. Sarcastic, sense of humour (almost to a fault), but a good kid. A lot like Halstead really..."

He trailed off and paused for a moment.

"What happened to him?" Roman asked again.

"A little over a year after Nolan had disappeared, I got a call from Hansen. He told me to hurry to his house right away. I did, but by the time I got there, Hansen was gone. The place was a complete mess. There'd clearly been a struggle. So, I called a friend and got him to give me a location on Hansen's phone. It was in a field, just outside of town.

"I got there as soon as I could, but it wasn't soon enough. Nolan had Hansen in a bomb vest, just sitting in the middle of the field. He'd forced the kid to hold his own dead man switch. If he let go, he'd die. Nolan ran away. He said I could either save Hansen or catch him."

"And you ran after Nolan..." Roman said quietly.

Voight stared at the floor. "Word on the street was Nolan Kane was back in town as a part of a huge terrorist plot. Somehow he'd managed to climb the ladder fast while he was on the run. I'd thought he'd leave Hansen alone, but he was more obsessed with his son than I'd anticipated. I did tell Hansen that his father was back in town and rumoured to be part of a terrorist plot. So when I went to defuse the vest- and I was going to- he told me not to worry about him and to stop his father. He said he could hold the switch until I got back."

Voight's voice got very quiet. "We was wrong."

"I remember the terrorist plot involving Nolan Kane," Olinsky added, in hopes of giving his old friend a moment. "Because you stopped him, he was unable to create and set off a bomb in central Chicago, saved hundreds of lives."

"Did he ever tell you why he blew up his own son?" Ruzek asked.

"He was obsessed with control. He once had it over Hansen and when he lost that control, he couldn't handle it. Killing his son, returned control to Nolan."

"You made the right call Hank," Olinsky added. "The plot was stopped and- if memory serves- they caught whoever was behind it all too, didn't they?"

Voight nodded. "It doesn't matter what I think of my decision. Someone clearly disagrees."

"Voight!" Ranger called out as he sprinted up to the group.

"What?"

"I was going through the video like you asked and I noticed something. At one point, your guy, Halstead, he turns his arm just a little bit. It's barely noticeable but look. I took a screen shot and printed it out for you."

The tech specialist handed Voight the photo.

"Look at his right arm."

"Is... Is that a wire?" Ruzek asked.

Voight nodded. "And look at his hand. It didn't register until now, but his right hand his clenched in a fist while his left is hanging loosely."

"Son of a..." Olinsky cursed.

"Halstead's got a bomb vest underneath that jacket."

Sorry! I did another cliffhanger! I feel really bad about this, because I honestly don't mean to do this to you guys. I really hope you like this chapter because I really enjoyed writing it (but that doesn't mean you have to. Feel free to tell me if you don't). I now have so many new ideas for this story. I'm sorry that there was a lot of backstory, with the Kane family. It is very crucial to the story, I promise. Next chapter will be up next Sunday. I hope you enjoyed. As always, thanks so much for the support, keep the ideas coming.

SIDE NOTE: STORY IDEA

I have an idea for a one-shot, based on the song "On My Own," by Ashes Remain. The songs is essentially about how you don't have to do things on your own ("I was never meant to fight on my own") and I think it'd be cool to do a one (or maybe two)- shot about Lindsay trying to do things on her own and how she doesn't have to ('cause Halstead is there :D ). I'm thinking of using it as a trial run to see if I can write romantic-ish scenes. It wouldn't interfere at all with how fast I upload this story. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading that (in a review or PM).

Next Chapter:

Chapter Nine: I've Seen Their Eyes