Chapter Nineteen: If Heaven's Grief Brings Hell's Rain
(Just One Yesterday – Fall Out Boy)
All the eyes in the VIP lounge turned towards the source of the voice, but Leland Marshall only looked at his fiance.
"Valerie?" He repeated. His voice was distraught, as though the true reality of the situation had finally begun to sink in. "Valerie, what is this?"
"Lee..." she barely managed.
"Val, Val I need you to put the gun down." As he spoke, Lee slowly made his way across the room, approaching his fiance step by step. "And, and I need you to give me that bomb. Okay?"
"I- I can't Lee. They- They have to pay."
"No. No they don't Val," he insisted. "These people, they are terrible people, but you are not the judge, and you are not the executioner. Your actions may be just, but you are not justice."
Valerie shook her head. "Justice...Justice has failed me Lee. It's failed both of us. It failed my brother, it failed you...It failed little baby Ryan Marshall."
"Valerie...Baby...This won't bring Ryan back. You..." He paused to wipe tears from his eyes. "You have to let go of all this hate. You saw what Essa's hatred turned her into Val. It turned her into a fiery monster. She can't control her own actions anymore. You can't be like her Val. I forgive you Valerie. Why can't you forgive yourself?"
"Because I don't deserve forgiveness!" She cried out. "I don't deserve to let go, to move on."
"Our child- His death was not your fault Valerie. Your brother's death wasn't your fault. My shooting wasn't your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"But they do!" She snapped, pointing her gun straight at Isiah Horran's forehead.
Lee looked at Atwater in panic. The plan wasn't working. The detective needed to step up and help out.
"Valerie. This won't help," he said simply. Valerie looked straight at the detective, her eyes filled with determination, anger, sadness, and panic. "Deep down Valerie, you know that this won't help. They're not coming back Valerie. The damage is done."
"And they get to walk away?! They deserve to die!"
"It's not up to you."
Lee took another step closer to his fiance. "Valerie...I want you- I need you to know that's it's going to be okay. That- That I won't leave you no matter what. I'm not leaving this room Valerie, not until you leave with me. Just take my hand and let's walk out here. These people, these gang members, they may deserve to die, but they're still people. And you- you're not someone who kills people Valerie. You love and you help people. You are a saint, not a sinner."
Valerie shook her head sadly. "You have to leave Lee. You have to walk out of this room. I won't go with you though. I'm going to make it all alright. I'm going to redeem myself by avenging my brother, by avenging you."
Lee's eyes were overflowing with powerful tears at this point. Valerie was also crying, but only slightly less harshly. Atwater was standing emotionless, wondering how long it would take for Voight to lose his cool and follow the two of them into the room.
"Valerie, please stop," Lee pleaded. "I am begging you to end this nonsense. I need you to walk away. You speak of redemption, but your actions do not match your words. This murder- This is not redeeming yourself. This is making it worse. Please, can't we just end this?"
Valerie paused, as if, perhaps, to be thinking it all through. For a moment, Atwater thought that they might actually be able to talk Valerie down without any need for force. That was when the gang-banger known as Patience decided to prove how inaccurate his name really was.
Voight turned nervously to Olinsky. "He's been in there too long," The sergeant muttered with a frown growing on his face.
Olinsky sighed. "You want to go in, don't you?"
Voight nodded. "I don't like the idea of Lee and Atwater in there alone."
"Atwater can handle-"
BANG!
They two were suddenly interrupted by a loud bang, likely coming from a gunshot. The two detectives swapped worried glances, drew their guns and raced towards the VIP room. They arrived, bursting open the door.
One gang member was screaming, clutching his right hand with his left, as blood poured out of a wound on his injured hand. Voight recognized the name as Patience, and knowing the irony of the nickname, assumed that Valerie had shot the criminal's hand make him shut up.
Olinsky kept his eyes glued to Valerie as she held the, still smoking, gun up high. Voight turned to see Lee gasping and Atwater taking a threatening step foreword. Valerie turned her gun to the youngest detective.
"No one move!" She shouted. "No one move!"
Atwater ignored the order and continued approaching the now hysterical woman. Voight realized that Valerie Marshall was officially too far gone. They had lost their opening to talk her down with reason. Lee was no longer an asset to them. He no longer knew what to say. Now he was just another civilian in the crosshairs.
"Al, get Lee out now!" Voight shouted. Olinsky did as told, grabbing Lee and attempting to drag him out of the room, but Valerie was having none of it.
"No one leaves!" She screamed as she fired two shots into the ceiling. "No one moves!" Olinsky hesitated, looking at Voight for what to do. He hand one hand on the door's knob and the other on Lee's arm, ready to leave at a moments notice. Voight thought for just a moment, but that was all it took.
No one had noticed Atwater was still slowly approaching Valerie, except for Valerie herself, apparently. She pointed her pistol straight at the young detective at let out a shriek.
"I said no one move!" Without hesitation, Valerie squeezed the trigger twice.
BANG! BANG!
And just like that, Detective Kevin Atwater fell to the ground, blood exploding from his body.
Kelly Severide hopped out of the squad truck as fast as he could, immediately rushing towards the wreck to assess the damage. He hesitated upon seeing the dead body of Dante of the ground, but soon was knocked out of his daze when Adam Ruzek rushed over to him.
"Jay's in the back, he's not breathing man. Dawson- I mean Antonio- has started compressions and- and Jay's got his hand stuck in the door so we can't get him out. He's holding a dead man switch. You open that door we all go up in flames."
Severide nodded. "Alright, alright." He paused trying to think out how to solve this problem. "Casey!" He called. "I need you to get in the back with Antonio! I'll go around front. We need to figure out a way to get him out, now!"
Brett jogged up beside him, clutching her medical bag close. "I'll hop in the back too, take over for Antonio."
"Yeah," Casey agreed. "We need you to get him breathing again. We're going to need time."
Brett nodded in agreement and then followed Casey over to the rear entrance of the truck. At the same time, Severide ran around front.
"Antonio," Casey called, as he got into the truck's back. "I've got Brett with me. She's going to take over for you. I need you to tell me everything I need to know about this bomb."
Antonio nodded. "On three," he told Brett. "One...Two...Three." The two swapped immediately, Brett beginning compressions as Antonio stepped aside. The space was now rather cramped, but not so much that it hindered anyone's ability to work efficiently.
"He's-He's got a- a dead man's switch- It's- It's jammed in that door," Antonio manged through ragged breathing.
Casey turned to the cop, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Antonio," he said kindly. "I need you to stay with now. We're going to get Halstead out of this okay? He's going to be fine."
"He's been out for a while now. He crashed the car at least several minutes ago. If his brain's been without oxygen..." He shook his head. "...even if he gets out of this..."
"Hey!" Brett snapped. "He didn't necessarily stop breathing right away. It looks like he lost a lot of blood too. There's an injury in his leg, looks like a bone snapped pretty bad when the truck crashed and it cut the skin. I need you send Mills in."
Antonio nodded, ashamed that he had missed the injury. He had been so focused on the hand and the bomb, he'd looked straight past the leg.
"Antonio," Brett added. "I think he bled out, likely just before you guys showed up. He's still got a chance Antonio. Don't give up on him just yet."
Antonio nodded, stepping out of the truck and explaining the situation to Mills, before urging him to go inside and help Brett. Once Mills rushed off, Gabby rushed to her brother's side and embrace him tightly.
"He's going to be okay," she whispered. "It's all going to be okay."
Antonio held his sister as tight as he could, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if she was trying to comfort him, or begging him to comfort her.
"Kevin!" Voight shouted, dropping to his knees beside the wounded and unconscious detective. He let out a sigh of relief after he had found the source of the blood. One of the shots had hit his vest, and while it would probably sting like hell for a while, posed no real threat to the detective's health. It had likely winded him though, leaving him out cold. The second bullet had hit flesh, going straight through his upper arm, but thankfully, it wasn't too serious. Provided he got it bandaged now, the injury should heal without too much trouble.
He tore off a piece of the table cloth that coated the main table, skillfully wrapping it around the detective's injury and tightly securing it. Once he was satisfied he looked over to where he expected Olinsky to be. He was actually relieved to find that neither his old friend, n'or Lee, were still in the room. Presumably, Olinsky had used the commotion of Atwater being shot to get Lee out of the room and to safety.
Voight rose to his feet. While Valerie was still holding her gun straight at him, her hand was shaking slightly. All the Colbalts in the room stared in shock and awe.
"Is he-? I mean...Is he dead?" She stammered.
"You got him in the vest and arm," Voight snapped bitterly. "He'll live."
She nodded, leaving Voight unsure if the news made her happy or sad. "I see," she replied emotionlessly. "I won't miss next time. So don't move."
"Valerie," Voight asked. "What are even doing?"
The woman blinked, clearly confused. "I'm getting revenge."
"I thought you were redeeming yourself."
"Through revenge," she snapped bitterly.
"Valerie, come on. I'm tired, I'm worried and, most importantly, I am unbelievably mad. What do you say we cut the crap?"
"I don't follow."
"Stop lying Valerie. I figured it all out just now. It all makes sense. You're lying to everyone, even yourself."
"What are talking about?" She snarled.
"You've covered your supposed quest of righteousness underneath so many lies, you've forgotten what you're really even doing here. This isn't about Hansen Kane. This isn't about Vanessa Sykes. This isn't about Ryan Yanda. This isn't about Isiah Horran, or Patience or any of the Colbalts. This isn't about Leland Marshall, or even little baby Ryan Marshall. Valerie. This is all about you."
"No," he spat. "This is about them!" She swung her gun around, pointing at each of the gang members.
"It's not Valerie," Voight corrected. "It's about the fact that you feel like you failed. You feel worthless, defenceless. You feel like you can't save anyone, no matter how hard you try, and you hate yourself for it. You're trying to hide your own self-loathing by going after everyone else you feel wronged you, but you're not mad at them. You're mad at you."
Valerie shook her head. "No. That's- That's not-"
"It's just like Essa, Valerie. She was so mad at me, she forgot that she was really mad at herself...because she couldn't save Hansen..." Voight took a heavy breath. "And you know what Valerie? I know how you feel. I've lost so many people. I go after the criminals, the guys like them." He pointed to the Colbalts. "Because they did it right? They are to blame, but... See, Valerie, the thing is, I may hate them for what they did, but I've never hated them as much as I hate myself...for letting them do the horrible things they've done."
A tear rolled down Valerie's cheek. "My brother...He died in my arms. I couldn't save him. Then Lee got shot...I couldn't save him either...and my baby, my little baby..." More tears began to fall down her face. "I was...I promised I'd never let him down...and I still did."
Voight looked at her sadly. "Valerie, you have a fiance who still loves you. He is right outside. You have a friend who cares about you. Dr. Serena Courtney, she is still here for you. You are not alone. It doesn't have to end like this."
Valerie sniffed, wiping away the tears from her face with one hand, while holding the gun in the other. After wiping her tears, she put down the gun.
"That's it Valerie."
...and she picked up the bomb.
"Valerie stop!" Voight insisted. "This isn't the answer."
"No. It is," she sobbed. "You were right. I am mad at myself. I do let everyone down. I can't...I can't let anyone else down, not anymore. I can't handle anymore heartache. No more pain. No more pain."
Voight held out his hand. "Valerie please. Stop."
"I'm going to set off this bomb Hank Voight. I suggest you take your friend and leave. I'm going to do you a favour. I'm going to kill these low-lifes. I'm going to take out all us criminals."
"Valerie don't-" he tried.
Valerie laughed sadly. "You don't have to pretend Voight. I thought we agreed to cut the crap. You don't care about these drug dealers, these murderers. These men are a menace to Chicago. They deserve to go to jail, but they never will, and you know that. They have to die Hank."
Voight paused for a moment, ignoring the Colbalts who were now loudly protesting. "What about you? Do you have to die?"
Valerie let out a loud, near hysterical, laugh. "Think about your detective Hank. Think of what I did to him. I killed Jay Halstead. I tried to have Erin Lindsay killed. I very nearly succeeded. You don't need to pretend you don't want me to die, that you don't want me to go to hell for what I've done. Come on Hank."
Voight thought for a moment. He pictured the photo that Platt had been given. He saw the video clip. He thought of the time they had seen Jay, how beaten and broken he had seemed, even though he had tried to hide it. He thought of Erin at the hospital, as he sat, terrified she might not make it. He inhaled and exhaled.
"You're right," he said finally. "I do. I want you to all to die." There was no lie in his voice. He hated the Colbalts, they were all killers. They were notorious for killing indiscriminately and ruthlessly all throughout Chicago. He worked tons of cases that they had been involved in. None sticked. And Valerie? Did he have a problem with killing her? He didn't have one with killing Pulpo.
He thought about Lee, outside, probably terrified for his fiance's safety. He thought about Dr. Serena Courtney and, the now insane, Vanessa Sykes. What did he owe them? He asked himself. Did he owe them Valerie Marshall alive and well? Did he owe his team- Erin, Jay- did he owe them her death?
He looked at Valerie intensely. He looked at the bomb in her hand and asked himself the question one last time.
Did Valerie Marshall deserve to die?
Severide squeezed his way into the tipped over cab of the car, beside Erin. She didn't even seem to notice him at first. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She spun around sharply.
"Woah," he chuckled. "Easy there Erin."
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just...a little on edge."
"Understandably so," Severide pointed out. "Look Erin. We're going to get Jay out of this, okay?"
"How can you promise that? Kelly, he's not breathing. He's dead Kelly. He. Is. Dead."
Severide shook his head. "No Erin. You can't think like that."
"What difference is it going to make?" She spat, tears now beginning to stream down her face. "My actions don't really have any affect on my partner's heart rate."
Severide smiled playfully. "I doubt that. I'm sure you get his heart rate up all the time."
The tiniest smile appeared on Erin's lips. "What?" She asked miserably. "You want me to take my shirt off and see if he comes back to life?"
Severide laughed lightly. "Brett will get him back Erin. You have to trust that. If she has to take off her shirt to get his heart rate back, I'm sure she will."
Erin smacked his arm. "She better not. If he comes back to life for another girl's stripping I will kill him myself." The fireman smiled a genuine smile at this, which the cop returned. "Thank you," She whispered. "I think I needed that."
He nodded. "Yeah, you did. I know you Erin, you're strong. So is he. He's got to be to be your partner. He's going to be fine."
"You're not the first person to tell me he'll be fine. I know, I just have to...have faith or what not, but...It's so hard to stay optimistic when so much is on the line."
"I know what you're going through Erin. Trust me. I know."
"No," she whispered. "You don't. Kelly...I don't think I ever realized until I almost lost him, but...I'm in love with him."
Severide smiled. "So, you've finally admitted it." Erin raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Antonio tells Gabby all sorts of things, and well, firehouses are bad places to keep secrets."
Erin smiled as brightly as she could manage at the comment. "Guess he squeezed his way into my heart."
Severide snapped to attention. "Squeezed. Damn, this might just work. Erin pass me that seatbelt. I need you to cut it free then hand it to me."
"What are you thinking?" Erin asked as she began sawing away at a seatbelt.
Severide clicked on his radio. "Casey, I've got an idea. It's a bit of a hail mary, but it just might work. Unless Mills can defuse that bomb."
"No can do lieutenant," the paramedic replied. "There are all sorts of wires on this thing."
"Tell me your plan Severide," Casey instructed.
"I'm thinking we squeeze the seatbelt into the door, wrap it around Halstead's fist and someone pulls it tight while we get this door open. Then we can get someone to hold this hand while we get him to Chicago Med."
"I'll do it!" Erin volunteered, a she finally cut the seatbelt free and handed it to Severide.
"That is definitely a hail mary," Casey pointed out. "You sure you want to do this?"
"I don't we've got a choice Casey," Mills pointed out. "He's lost a lot of blood. We need to act now!"
"Alright. Do it Kelly," Casey announced.
Slowly and carefully, Severide slipped one end of the seat belt through the door, so it was touching Jay's hand on the other side. From the back, Casey now fed the piece back through the door to Severide. The squad lieutenant pulled it tight at a certain angle so the switch appeared to be held in place. He then handed it to Erin who held it as tight as she could.
"I think we're good!" Severide announced. "Let's get this door open!"
"Guys!" Brett suddenly screeched.
"What?" Everyone practically shouted in response.
"I- I did it!" She announced proudly. "I mean- it's weak and all, but it's there."
Erin held her breath. "Are you saying..."
"Yes!" Brett exclaimed. "Jay's got a pulse!"
Yay! I finished it. I thought I would never get this done. I'm sorry there wasn't much of Erin or Jay, but this chapter was more about wrapping up Valerie's situation. There were a lot of Chicago Fire characters, but I kind of had to put them in...'cause they're firemen...I hoped you liked the scene with Severide and Erin. I just felt this story needed one light-hearted scene, so I did it. TADA! Please let me know how you felt about this chapter (I'm relatively happy with it) and what you'd like to see next. I really am trying my best to make you all happy. Thanks again for all the support. Keep the love coming. I'll see you all next Sunday.
SIDE NOTE:
Since I was asked about my new story that I'm working on (A Black Wind based on Linkin Park's A Valentine's Day) I wanted to give you a sneak peek of what's happening. I can't say too much without ruining everything. Basically, It's pretty sad, written in first person from Erin's perspective and the line of dialogue I plan on using in the description if "A black wind took you away from sight and held the darkness over day that night."
Next Chapter:
Chapter Twenty: When All You Got To Keep Is Strong