Something wasn't right. There was tension in the air that everyone seemed to steadfastly ignore. Erin tore a page from her notepad, crumbled it with more force than necessary and tossed it aside with a mumbled curse.
Lana paused, the box of files she had just signed for downstairs still in her hands. She had been gone for 7 minutes, what exactly had she missed?
Ruzek glanced up as she moved forward, clocking her headed to Voight's door, and stumbled out a, "Lana, wait!"
She snapped to a stop like she was about to step on a landmine, and Ruzek coughed. "Oh, I, uh, you might wanna hold off taking that in there just yet."
"Why...?"
Antonio stood with an eyeroll, "You really wanna make her responsible for making Voight wait for something he asked for?"
Ruzek turned timid at that, and Lana stared Antonio down when he tried to take the box from her.
"What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Antonio shrugged, "Voight just had a run in with the commander. That always puts him in a bad mood."
"Run in about what?" Lana demanded, tugging back on the box.
"Don't know. Not really planning to ask either," he gestured with his chin to her desk, "your phone's been ringing."
Whatever was going on, no one was going to talk about it. She debated pushing further before relenting and just letting Antonio have the box.
She walked to her station, saw the message light blinking, and Lana settled in to return some calls.
"Pssst. Erin."
It came through the near empty office. Antonio, Ruzek and Attwater were out on a call. Olinsky flipped a page on the file he was reading, not even glancing up to where Platt stood at the top of the stairs.
She waved the younger agent over and stood, foot tapping impatiently until Erin reached her.
"Well take your time, why don't you," she huffed, and Erin's brow rose.
"You need something, Platt?"
Some of that sass was coming out, the kind Trudy knew Voight must have had his hands full trying to tame, and Trudy pursed her lips. "Hmm, you didn't get this from me."
A glance into the office showed a pointedly disinterested Olinsky the only witness, and she slipped Erin the file.
Erin opened it on the spot, and Trudy shook her head. "Why not just wave it around why don't you."
"Trudy," Erin flipped the pages, tone incredulous, "this is the commander's case notes, how did you get this?"
Platt looked insulted. "Like I don't have my ways." She lowered her voice. "It's worse than we thought, kid, Commander isn't just on a witch hunt with this one. She's putting something together here."
Erin's brow furrowed. "Got it. I'll look into it."
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Erin turned on her heel, folder under her arm. The others were back and she returned to her desk like she had never left it.
There wasn't much to report from the guys, they had ID'ed their main suspect, Ringman, but so far couldn't seem to find him. That alone would have been enough to set Voight off, without the commander dropping more pressure on top of it. Erin stared at the file, tempted to dig in to the glimpses she had caught earlier when hands suddenly appeared on her desk.
Antonio was leaning over them. "I could use some coffee."
He lifted the file clear off Erin's desk as he straightened, and Erin shot to her feet. She quick stepped behind Antonio into the break room, and jabbed a finger at the man casually opening the folder that held the commander's stolen notes.
"That's personal!"
Antonio hummed, ignoring her. "Oh," his voice dropped, "this isn't good."
"What isn't."
Erin groaned, how were more people getting involved in this? Lana stood in the breakroom doorway, eyes on what Antonio held with a scary sort of attention. Before Erin could tell her to get lost, Lana brushed by Erin and peeked over Antonio's shoulder. It had been tight lipped avoidance all morning and she was done not knowing what was wrong with Voight. It looked like Erin was digging and Lana was not about to walk away.
"Wait, what?" she snatched the papers from Antonio's hand, holding him off as he tried to take them back.
"Looks like they're investigating Voight in Eric's shooting. In his involvement," Antonio filled her in even as she read the words.
"Which is bull," Erin interjected hotly. "I know Eric's your friend, but the commander has no reason to go after Voight like this."
"Which if he isn't involved, takes attention away from finding out what actually happened," Antonio added.
"He isn't." There was venom in Erin's tone, an indignance, "And we're not supposed to have that." She made a snatch for the folder but Lana sidestepped her.
"Where are you going?"
Lana spared Antonio a glance at his question, eyes dropping back to the pages at hand. "Voight know about this?"
"Woah." Erin grabbed her sweater, tugging her back in. "He finds out we're working on this instead of the case, it's all our heads."
"So we do what?" Lana snapped, feeling the irritation edging at her calm and she fought it back. Erin would be as focused on fixing this as anyone, there was no call to fight against her here.
"Our jobs?" Antonio offered, and Erin leveled a look at him.
"You can stay out of this either way, Antonio," she didn't exactly trust his motives where Voight was concerned. He made his mistrust of Voight's methods clear. The last thing she needed was any one of them siding with the commander on this one. She fixed Lana with that same searching gaze.
"What about you. Eric's a... friend." and Lana was holding the file that supposedly implicated Voight in Eric getting shot. Erin had no idea how Lana was gonna respond to this and she wasn't fully in the mood to find out.
There was a cold look of certainty in Lana's eyes. So unwavering it made Erin question whether they were even still talking about the same thing anymore.
"So is Voight." Lana snapped the file closed and straightened her spine. "I'll be borrowing this."
She left, and Erin hissed a curse through clenched teeth.
Antonio laughed, selecting a cup to pour some coffee. "She isn't ratting you out. What more do you want."
Erin ground out a sigh. Her endeavour to sort out Voight's problem had just gotten hijacked and she did not like being side tracked. Lana could sort her way through the Commander's biased notes if she wanted. Erin would get feet on the ground, hit the pavement until she found something they could use.
Voight had been buried under a landslide of information all day, sifting through one horror after the other, not coming up for air. Or giving Erin a chance to mouth off again. She was hard to slow when she got indignant and the kid didn't like the Commander coming after him. Voight couldn't blame her, he didn't much care for it either, but he wasn't gonna let his own issues get in the way of the work they were here to do.
What ever the commander thought she had wouldn't add up, there was nothing there to even do the math with. She was grasping at straws and she would exhaust her reach soon enough. Voight wasn't concerned.
Even at the memory of the smug way the commander had questioned him, with a little too much confidence to be bluffing, it didn't matter.
Voight would pay attention to the work in front of him. Personal drama didn't have a place in his office.
He waited, working, until the office cleared and he was left alone. They had made little progress, every case they went through ended up wholly unrelated to their own. He was beginning to think he may have been wrong, that what they were looking at was nothing more than mistaken ID. They needed to find Ringman, find answers. Voight stood, grimacing as his back strained. He needed a break.
His home stood empty, as shaded and bare as it met him everyday. It never changed. Familiar. Comfortable because it was constant. He put on a pot of coffee. It would keep him up, but he wouldn't be sleeping anyway.
Voight was not a man who grew lonely. The desire for just someone to talk to felt a little too general, a little too broad. There weren't many he could share with. He talked, to a great deal of people. Connections he kept up with in and out of the job. Had an understanding, mutually beneficial respect with men from either side of the law. It kept him busy enough. Made home a relief, that there weren't people there to face like he faced his vacant walls.
But as he sat at his kitchen table, he glanced once at the place across from him, and wondered, for a moment longer than he usually let himself, what his evenings would be like, if there was someone sitting across from him.
He drained his cup, went to rinse it in the sink when he heard the text chime on his phone. He tossed aside the hand towel he'd dried his hands on and lifted his phone from the counter.
-Are you busy tonight?-
It chimed again immediately after, cutting off that flash of premature relief, left a stuttered feeling in his chest.
-I have something I could use your help with-
Voight typed out a response. What do you need, Milani.
-Let us in and you'll find out.-
us?
His doorbell rang, and it echoed, growing softer through the house as Voight headed for the door.
Erin was on his doorstep, Lana standing a half step behind. Erin barely waited for him to step aside to enter. Her bag dropped by the door and she tugged a file from it.
"Officially, we don't have this." Erin warned.
Voight folded him arms."Is this about the case?" He looked between Erin and Lana as she stepped inside, slipping free of her jacket. Her ponytail had come loose, strands of black against her cheeks that she swiped away unconsciously.
"Not exactly." Lana answered, "It's about you."
"Me?" Voight cocked a brow at her, and Lana silently cursed the way heat filled her cheeks. She was here to help, to straighten whatever mess of a case the commander was in the middle of forming. Erin had called demanding the file back and somehow they had decided just to deal with Voight together. But all she could think about was that moment in the hospital, clinging to him when she'd seen him. Lost herself in the relief instead of keeping her head like she should have and now she was here, wanting to do it again.
To step in between him and whatever they were trying to throw at him.
She cleared her throat, trying to push it all away as his gaze lingered longer than it should.
"We need to talk." Erin smacked the folder into his chest, and stepped by him to make herself comfortable in the livingroom.
Voight took a sip of his drink, watching Lana spread the papers out on the coffee table.
He didn't want to know where they had gotten that file, but they were laying their jobs on the line right here in his livingroom by having it. That Erin was doing it didn't surprise him. But Lana? Apparently it was worth it, risking everything to learn what had happened to Eric.
"We need to do something about this." Erin started in.
Voight didn't look impressed. "The commander is pushing. I wouldn't expect any different."
"This isn't pushing, Voight." Erin grabbed a couple pages from the table, "This is witness statements. Circumstantial evidence." She seemed frustrated that he wasn't getting it, and she didn't fluster easily.
Voight popped a brow at his drink. "Evidence of what?"
"Making it look like you were involved." Erin tossed down the papers like the problem really should have been obvious by now. Voight eyed his daughter. If she was this worried about the case the commander was building it might be worth paying attention to.
"None of this makes sense, Voight," Lana's voice was quieter, her palms smoothing the papers Erin had thrown down. Voight shrugged, glancing away. Erin wouldn't think he had done it, but Lana? The man she cared about was in a hospital bed and people seemed to think he had something to do with putting Eric there.
He studied the amber liquid in his cup. Is this what it had come to? Had she finally stumbled across that thing that would put that suspicion in her eyes?
"Voight." Lana snapped. How could he not be paying attention?
"Look, You wanna know what happened to Eric. I get it. But I don't have your answers, Milani."
"You were there, Hank." Lana insisted.
Hank shrugged. "Yeah, and?"
Lana wanted to strangle him. "And we can go over what you do know."
Erin watched the argument build between the two before interrupting. Lana was a little touchy about all this and they didn't need to get sidetracked.
"Look. There's witnesses saying that Ralph shot Eric because you told him to."
That got Voight's attention.
"So can we go over what we have now?" Erin asked.
Lana was quiet, as Erin took him through his side of the report, his conversation with Ralph, where he was when he heard the gunshots. It filled in the gaps, explained what the witnesses had really overheard, but it's not like they had proof.
"It says here you and Eric were seen arguing," Lana peered at him over the paper she read, waiting for an explanation, and Voight straightened.
"We had a disagreement," he allowed.
"About?" Erin demanded, and his gaze flicked to hers.
"Difference in leadership styles."
Erin's expression was unconvinced and pointedly telling him so. Lana was just watching him, softly waiting for more and Voight's lips thinned. What exactly could he tell her. That Eric was the reason she was out of the field, that Voight couldn't be sure he would even have her back when she went home? She had worked with the man for years, she didn't need his opinion to make her decision and he didn't need to butt in where he didn't belong.
"So you asked Ralph for information, then what?" Erin asked, and they went through it all again.
They exhausted every detail of Voight's side, trying to find something that made sense. Everything pointed to Ralph firing at Eric and the officer firing back.
"We know you didn't tell him to, so why'd he do it?" Erin asked for what felt like the fifth time and Voight contained a growl.
"I don't know. The kid had no motive. I'm not even buying that he had a gun."
"Witness saw the shooting. Ralph had a gun." Erin argued, "what, your CI's never violate parole?"
"The kid wasn't on parole, he was clean." Voight retorted.
Erin relented. "Fine. Then what about Eric? Why was he in that alley?" She looked at Lana expectantly, and Voight saw her hesitate, an idea formed that she chose not to share.
"Uh, his memory is still a little foggy, but he was there dropping Voight off to meet his CI. Must have gotten out while he waited."
She felt Voight's gaze on her, but she didn't say it. That Eric had been lying, she just didn't know about what. That she had asked for a tox screen. It wouldn't do any good to give out information she wasn't even sure of.
Erin glanced at her watch, then stood with an expansive sigh.
"I gotta get home to Jay. But we'll keep looking Voight. We'll figure this out."
"Sure kid," he gave her a half smile, handed her her coat and accepted the hug goodnight.
He expected Lana to follow, to neatly gather up her papers and head for the door. But she tucked her feet beneath her, stretching out on the newly vacated space, pressed an absent finger between her teeth in concentration. She was sorting facts behind her eyes, considering and dismissing possibilities like he had seen her do dozens of times on the job.
She was invested, needing to get to the truth of what had happened to Eric in that alley.
"You gonna ask."
Lana glanced up midthought. "What's that?"
Voight gestured at the wall like it would explain something he couldn't. "If I had anything to do with this."
Her gaze faltered, first in confusion, then in something soft. "You didn't."
Her attention turned back, so simply, to the task at hand, but Voight wasn't satisfied with that.
"And you know that how?"
She paused, then set her pages in her lap with intentional action, visibly paying attention to him now. "Why are you asking this?"
"I'm dirty, Lana." He shrugged, "In some ways I still am. And you got evidence saying I'm guilty. I'd understand, if you..." he trailed off, lifting a hand to finish his sentence for him.
"If I what?" Lana frowned, "thought you did it?"
He shrugged, not quite meeting her gaze. She didn't know why he was doubting her, wasting time on questions she thought would never have to be asked, but she relented, even just to get him to focus.
"Is there anything in this case that the commander can come after you for."
Voight shook his head once. "No."
Her frown pursed in thought, then she nodded. "Good."
"Here, look at these," she pointedly turned her attention to the photos in the file, waved him over to her. Shifted as he took the place beside her, handing him the photos of the crime scene.
"Anything stand out to you?"
Voight flipped through them, angled shots of the alley. Blood where Eric had lain. Ralph dead on the pavement.
"No."
They went through page by page, and Voight felt the evidence slowly stacking against him. He had gone after criminals with less. Lana stayed on task, even when there was nothing left to ask, her arm brushing against his, warmth everytime she shifted. It mattered, that he wasn't facing this file alone. The light still burned as the night grew later, her head at some point falling softly against his shoulder.
He could have moved, just enough so she would stir. Blink awake and check the time, mutter about how late it had gotten.
But he turned another page of the file, read words he had read over again as an excuse to stay, like this. Until his own head fell back against the couch, and the sound of their breath filled the room.
She woke in the hours before dawn, pressing away from his shoulder with a clumsy hand against his chest. He stirred, blinking against the light.
"Hey," voice roughened with sleep, he sat up, chest expanding beneath her fingers as he stretched. His fingers raised, touched the line on her cheek from the seam of his shirt. "You alright?"
She wouldn't remember, whether she moved alone or his hand drew her foreward, it was a movement so natural she didn't need to think.
But his fingers slid against the base of her neck, lips meeting hers, drunk with the sleep they had both just woken from.
He lifted her, setting her against his chest as her hands tugged impatiently at his collar, wanting to be closer. His hands flexing on her hips before tightening, pushing her back with sudden blinking clarity.
"What are you doing, Milani?"
"I'm sorry," her forehead dropped against his, their breath a battle for the air between them. "I'm sorry," she shook her head against him, "It's been a long day."
His breath was calming, his heartbeat not slowing quickly enough. A long day was an understatement, with a case they couldn't solve and the commander's witch hunt closing in.
"What do you want from me, Milani."
He would do a lot of things, but he wouldn't be what she used to make Eric jealous. Not again.
He was holding her, hands firm on her hips, not breaking away and she let her hands slide down his chest, struggling for an answer he would want to hear, too afraid to admit that she wanted everything.
"You make it easier."
And that was it, wasn't it. The truth behind every touch. It wasn't some callous means to an end. It never had been. They had given eachother something every time. Peace, a way to breathe without the world closing in.
Maybe if life had taught them different lessons, if love hadn't been learned quite so hard, they would have heard what the other didn't know how to say.
Maybe they wouldn't hold back, stop themselves from giving what they didn't understand the other truly wanted, instead of convincing themselves they were letting go.
Yet still they found themselves here, time and again like an inevitable destination. A wave that landed and fled, built and returned. Both gripped by an undertow they thought themselves alone in, not knowing that fighting a current was the surest way to drown.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled again, his hand catching her before she could leave.
"Don't be, Lana." He couldn't be.
They were past personal denial, each fully knowing they needed the other. Never believing they could be needed back.
He let her slip away, stood enough to give her room, gently convinced her to lie down. It was too late to try and go anywhere tonight
He tugged a blanket across her, and Voight turned off the light.
Lana woke, to light streaked through a window, the scent of coffee pulling her awake.
The room was bright, and she sat up with an audible yawn. A To go cup of coffee sat on the coffee table in front of her. A bagel just beside, still hot.
Voight was gone, and she had a text from Erin saying she had an idea for their case. Not the way she expected her day so start, but she might as well get at it.
She missed the note, tucked under the plate, scratched out in a quick scrawl.
-Had to run out, didn't want to wake you.
Thank you for the help, Milani-
She took a sip of her coffee and made sure the door locked behind her, texting Erin back that they could meet in an hour.
"So there was only one witness to the actual shooting," Erin talked around the pastry she was eating, offering Lana a bite. "So we find him, see if there's pieces he can fill in."
"He didn't give much in the actual report," Lana pointed out.
"Well maybe he remembered something else, in the meantime, we hope Eric remembers more."
"Right," but Lana wasn't entirely sure that was going to help.
"I wish I could help you, Voight." Benson's voice came through the phone, and Voight paused on the corner of the sidewalk, "But the MO of your case isn't specific enough to do a profile on. We need more information."
"Yeah, and I don't have it."
The light changed and Voight crossed the street, one in a crowd moving towards a dozen different destinations.
"I got some time, you want me to come up, see if another set of eyes helps?"
"I appreciate the offer," he sidestepped a teen on their phone blocking the sidewalk, and shook his head, "But I don't want to tie you up with this."
"Well, offer stands. Let me know. And I'll let you know if I come up with anything on my end."
Voight thanked her and ended the call. He knew it was a long shot, but Olivia had pulled off long shots before. Any insight she had would help.
"Nothing?" Erin asked, and Lana shook her head. They had a first name and a witness statement, but the personal info of the witnesses hadn't made it into their copy of the file, and they had been canvassing the neighbourhood all afternoon looking for this kid names Marcus.
The more doors Lana knocked on, the more convinced she was that half of them probably knew and just weren't saying. Cops weren't exactly crowd favorites in this part of town.
Her phone rang and it took her a second to place the number. It was the hospital calling and she answered immediately, thoughts going to the tox screen results.
"Hello, Lani."
"Eric?"
Erin took interest, no doubt wondering if he called because he remembered something, and Lana turned away.
"Yeah. I'm on my room phone, don't have a charger for my cell."
"Oh, well how are you?" It occured to her she hadn't checked in in a while and she felt a flash of guilt.
"Doing better, should be discharged Monday. That's actually why I'm calling. They're asking for pick up arrangements. I can just arrange for a cab, but they asked me to put a name down just in case?"
Lana didn't respond right away, and he kept talking.
"It's just a technicality I suppose. You wouldn't be obligated to do anything, I know you have work."
"No, Eric, It's fine. Put me down, and just, let me know what time. I'll be there."
He thanked her, polite and cheerful as ever, and Lana hung up.
"Anything?" Erin asked, and rolled her eyes at Lana's head shake.
"Sorry, I know he just got shot, but we could really use his statement right now."
"Yeah," Lana stuffed her hands in her pockets, "well, one more block and we'll call it a day?"
Erin nudged her arm before heading off, "twelfth time's the charm."
Eric stretched on the bed, wincing as his stitches pulled. He was tired of this hospital room, couldn't wait to get out and get home.
The commander had called twice, wanting more information and he was running out of confidence in how long he could keep this up. He had fired in self defense, but hitting Voight's CI was something he didn't know how to explain. They hadn't pressed too hard about why he was in that alley to begin with, but it wouldn't be long until they started asking more questions.
He needed to figure out what he was going to do.
An officer stuck his head in, smile bright enough Eric almost felt threatened.
"Hey! You're Eric, right? I'm Rodney. Friend of Lana's, how you doing?"
Eric eyed this 'friend,' wondering just how friendly he had been with Lani.
"Feeling pretty good." It was a lie but he wasn't about to tell this guy otherwise.
"Good, good, so uh," Rodney glanced behind him before leaning in, "how's the case against Voight going?"
Case against what? Eric was quick enough to hide his flash of confusion. "...How much have you heard?"
Rodney laughed, course Eric wouldn't want to give out info on active case, but everyone was talking about it. "Just the basics. How Voight put his CI up to it. I mean I'd heard stories about the guy but that is a new level of messed up."
"Right," Eric smiled, conscious that the heart rate monitor had changed, visually showing the increase of his pulse. He knew how to process information behind a charming exterior and he gave a its-really-a-shame shrug. "Well Voight has never been a very trustworthy cop. I'm surprised he's risen as far as he has, after the trouble he's had."
Rodeny's radio crackled, and he answered the call.
"Look, I gotta run," he tapped the doorframe, "but it's good to meet you man, glad you're doing alright."
He left Eric to his thoughts, and they didn't stop turning until he finally had it figured out.
He lifted the off white hospital phone, and put a call into Commander Crowley.
How could they still have nothing? Lana stared at the nearly bare shelves of her refrigerator, debating which leftover she was going to eat.
She decided on both.
She munched on an eggroll while her burger reheated, watching the seconds tick down on the microwave.
It had been a theme all week, finding nothing. She began to doubt any of them knew how to do their jobs anymore.
A text came in before she had barely taken a bite and she swiped at her phone, scowling at the ketchup she had just smeared on the screen.
It was not a good day.
She rubbed it clean with her dishtowel and tossed it in the general direction of her wash as her phone dinged again.
-I located a charger. Hospital gift shops are rather like airports in some ways.-
-They are saying 10am for tomorrow. Are you sure you're okay to come? I can make other arrangements.-
Lana swore. She had completely forgotten about picking Eric up tomorrow, and she snatched up her phone, dialing Voight, mildly aware of the ketchup residue as she held it slightly away from her face.
"Lana."
It was his only greeting, and Lana blinked at her stove before snatching up a fry and dipping it in duck sauce.
"Hank," she retorted, just as short as she bit into the fry. It surprisingly wasn't bad, and she went for another.
His brief chuckle came through the line. "Sorry. I was working on something, wasn't expecting the call."
"Anything good?" Lana questioned, debating dunking the fries into the ketchup after the duck sauce before decidcing that was a terrible idea.
"Olinsky thought he found something, I'm following up."
"On the kidnapping case?"
She felt his stern eyed look through the line.
"Only case I'm working on right now."
"Right."
"So what's up Milani."
Voight set aside the papers Olinsky had faxed over, and leaned back in his chair, gaze absentmindedly on the place she had fallen asleep, still been there when he had come down yesterday morning.
"Shift tomorrow, can I have the morning off?"
Voight was surprised, she didn't usually take personal time but she had plenty of it. "Yeah, everything okay?"
He heard her sigh. "I'm supposed to get Eric, he's being discharged."
She waited, several long seconds before he answered.
"Right. Take the day if you need it. It's fine."
"Thanks," she didn't like the sudden awkward feeling, like she had said something she shouldn't have, and she played with the little lip on the styrofoam container.
"You need anything else, Milani?"
"No, no that's all. Sorry to bother you, have a goodnight, Voight."
"Yeah, you too."
Lana puffed out a breath and stared at her burger.
"Is this everything?" Lana held the few belonging she had pulled out of the nondescript locker in the corner of the hospital room.
"Yes, I didn't have much." Eric grinned at her, pale, but he looked a world better than the last time she had seen him.
"Well your rental car is downstairs." They had recovered it from the scene and it had been sitting in the evidence garage. "I'll take you wherever you need."
"My hotel, please."
He winced some as he slipped into the passenger seat, hand on his side where the bullet had punctured, and Lana sent him a sympathetic look.
"It's fine," he smiled at her concern, pulled his phone from his bag and frowned. "I didn't realize the date. My room was only booked until Friday. I have to make a call."
She drove while he talked to the front desk, overheard him explaining the situation before he hung up with a long suffering sigh.
"They have my things but gave my room to someone else. I booked another, but check-in's not til 3. I suppose I can wait in the lobby."
He didn't asked. He never just outright asked. Instead he laid out an unfortunate situation and just waited for you to offer. Lana gritted her teeth.
"You shouldn't be stuck in a waiting room in your condition. You can wait in my apartment."
His smile was blinding and Lana returned it as best she could. Helping someone who had been shot shouldn't feel like an imposition, but she didn't like not being at the office. There was too much going on and she didn't want to miss something important.
She got Eric settled, every minute it took another anxious look at the clock. She was never getting out of here.
Thirty minutes later she was on the stairs to Intelligence when her phone rang and she answered Erin's call.
"Where the f- are you."
Lana came to a dead stop. "What happened."
"Voight's been suspended."
Lana hung up. Took the stairs two at a time and entered a tense room.
"Where is he?"
Erin looked up from where she was cursing out her phone for dropping the call.
"Gone," she flung a hand at his open office door. "Crowley had him escorted home."
"How, Why was he suspended?"
Ruzek tossed the stress ball he had stolen from Attwater and caught it, leaned back in his chair. "Your boy gave his statement."
Lana turned dangerous eyes on him. "My who did what?"
"Lana!" Antonio reached the top of the stairs, "Platt said you were here. You heard?"
"You find anything out?" Erin interrupted, and Antonio shook his head.
"Platt doesn't know any more than we do."
"And what is that, exactly?" Lana asked as Erin paced away in agitation.
"This is unbelievable. Her looking into him was bad enough, but suspension? She's not gonna get away with this."
"Someone tell me WHAT IS GOING ON." Lana's voice snapped through the distraction, and Ruzek let out a low whistle.
"Look," Antonio propped on the edge of the desk in front of her, "it isn't good. the commander got a second witness statement that confirms Voight set Ralph up to take the shot."
"And why is today the first I'm hearing about all of this?" Ruzek popped up in his seat, fingers flexed on his desktop.
They ignored him.
"Who was the witness?" Lana had spent all weekend canvassing that neighbourhood. They hadn't found any of the original witnesses, let alone anyone else who had seen anything.
Antonio held her gaze. "It was Eric."
Sound was muffled as the words echoed in her mind.
"Eric?" She couldn't quite believe it.
"This is bull," Erin threw her pen down on her desk. "It's not possible, Lana. I don't know what Eric thought he saw but he's wrong."
Lana walked away. Antonio tried to stop her, atleast ask her where she was going, but it didn't slow her down. She met Platt's gaze as she crossed the lobby, and it held thinly veiled accusation.
Like she was responsible for this.
Eric started when the door banged open, face turning ashen at the flash of pain. She noticed. She didn't care.
"What the hell did you do?!"
"Lani, what's going on?" he rose slowly, carefully.
"That's what I want to know. Voight just got suspended."
Eric shook his head sadly, "It was bound to happen eventually. I'm just glad the correct steps are being taken."
"Steps for what?!" she started pacing, anything to stop her from hitting him. He was a gunshot victim, she had to remember that.
"I know it's hard to hear, but he was involved Lani. I remembered what happened and-"
"No." It wasn't loud but it was enough to silence him.
"No what?"
"Tell the truth, Eric. For once in your life tell the truth." Her hands were shaking. White and fisted and pressed into her thighs so hard it hurt.
Eric was indignant now. "How could you be doubting me, Lani. For someone like Voight? He doesn't deserve your loyalty. If you knew half of what I know about him you'd-"
"What makes you think I don't?" Lana snapped at him. "I know what kind of man he is. I know what kind of cop he is. And I would trust him in a heartbeat over you any day!"
"You're being emotional, Lani," Eric chastised, stepping forward, "Let's sit down and talk about this."
"Get out." She was so beyond anger his words didn't even effect her. "Get out before I put you out."
He watched her, waiting to see if she was serious. If it had really come to this.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Lani. I'll go now.'
He was at the door, looking back once more like he was giving her the chance to reconsider.
"We're going to find out what really happened, Eric."
And in that moment, Eric began to doubt.
"Answer your stupid phone," Lana grumbled, trying Voight once again as buildings passed by. The driver knew better than to make conversation, came to an abrupt halt on Voight's street and accepted the cash she threw at him with a wave.
He answered the door on the third knock, looked her over like he wished he was surprised.
"Milani. What can I do for you?"
He was remarkably calm, and her gaze dropped to the glass in his hand. "Are you drunk?"
He rocked back on his heels, like he was considering. "Not yet."
"Are you going to let me in?"
He was speaking before she even finished. "Why are you here."
Lana crossed her arms, off balance and irritated. "I heard what happened."
"Finally listening to office gossip?"
"Hank," Lana stepped froward, "Let me in. Please?"
He looked down, at the hand she had placed on his arm, before stepping back.
He closed the door behind her, went to speak when she took the cup from his hand and drained the last of it.
A sound came from the back of his throat. "You good, Milani?"
She paced away from him. "I should be asking you that."
He shrugged. "I've had worse."
"This doesn't make any sense." The glass dropped on the table in the entryway.
"Why are you here, Milani?" he questioned again, and Lana faced him.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright."
He laughed once, looking away, a reckless kind of sarcasm in his eye.
"That's good. Your man told you I got him shot, and you're just checking in?"
"I was worried about you," Lana shot back. "and Eric isn't my man."
"Plan didn't work then did it?" Voight brushed by her for the glass, going for another drink, and she caught his arm.
"What plan?"
"It's none of my business, Milani," he backtracked, like he regretted even saying something, but Lana wasn't letting this go.
"What are you talking about, Hank."
He shook his arm free. "I heard, Lana. Your plan to make Eric jealous."
Lana's mouth popped open. "My...what?"
His smile was bitter, deep in his eyes like buried anger.
"Snuggling up to Antonio wasn't enough to do it. Guess I was phase two?"
"Voight," Lana was shaking her head, a tiny jerky movement, "you don't understand."
"No I don't understand," he stepped into her suddenly, backing her against the table with a clatter. "How you could be planning to go back to that. He won't have your back Milani. You don't care that he's lying now, but care about that. You can't work for him."
"I'm not gonna work for him!" Lana sputtered, humiliation and anger burning the back of her throat. She never thought that stupid drunken stunt with Antonio would make it this far. How long did Hank think that was what she was doing? "I never was, but you were so ready to get rid of me you weren't willing to hear it!"
"Get rid of you?" Voight scoffed, "Why the hell would I want to do that, Milani."
"Because I screwed up!" He crowded over her and she glowered up at him, hips against the hard edge of the table. "I screwed up and you told me to go home!"
"You wanted to go!" Hoarse voice shouted into her, "Back to Miami and your work, and back to Eric!"
"I never wanted ERIC!" Pure frustration filled her like a shot of adrenaline and she trembled at the sudden eerie calm in Voight's eyes.
"Don't lie to me, Milani." His hand met the wall behind her, body leaning into her space as his gaze never left hers. "I saw you in the hospital. You fell apart when he got shot. People don't react like that for someone they don't care about."
Her breath hitched, and something inexplicable filled her eyes. They swelled with tears, wide and almost frightened. Voight felt his anger die.
"Lana?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them with a shaky breath and met his gaze.
"I thought it was you." her whisper, the admittance, wrote confusion across his face.
"I don't-" he shook his head, not understanding.
"We didn't know who was hurt." Her voice wavered, her hands gripping the edge of the table behind her. Wanting to run, away from his eyes and the part bursting inside of her that just wanted him to know. "I thought it was you."
Voight felt it again, her crashing into him, holding him in that hospital hall. His head was shaking.
"I'm sorry," her words caught, "I know you don't, you never wanted that from me. I get it. But don't you dare stand there and say any of that was for Eric."
There was fire building behind tear washed eyes, pulse a rapid thud in her ears.
"I fell apart, Hank, because of you."