"I may have been wrong about this one, Sergeant," Commander Crowley slid his badge across her desk towards where Voight stood, expressionless but it still felt smug, "But I'm not wrong about you."

Voight plucked the badge from the desk, clipped it next to his returned firearm on his belt.

"Anything else, Commander?" There was the barest of smiles on his lips, and Crowley's shoulders rolled back in mute frustration. "Good, cause I got work to do."

He crossed through the lobby, nodded to Platt who had just shooed away a couple of officers. She spared him a smile that bordered on the edge of self-satisfied before calling the uniforms back. She handed them the keys to a new cop car they had requested. She was feeling generous.

Voight took the stairs up to Intelligence. Stepped onto the floor of his unit. Ruzek was kicked back in his chair, tossing a wad of paper into the air, acting as a sounding board as Attwater rattled off theories on their latest case. Ruzek said something stupid and Attwater snatched the paper ball from mid-air.

"You could try not being useless," he muttered, catching sight of Voight a moment later. "Yo, welcome back, boss."

Erin looked up, hopping off of where she was perched on Jay's desk. "Hey, guess Crowley came to her senses, huh," she gave him a quick hug, "had me worried there for a second."

"Nah," Voight shook his head, smile holding a fondness he didn't often let in his workplace, "I knew you'd sort it out for me, kid."

She grinned, just cheeky enough as Antonio walked out of the breakroom.

"Hey, you're back," he looked more pleased than Voight had expected until he held out his hand, palm up, to Jay. "Pay up."

Jay's eyes widened with a good bit of horror before cussing Antonio out with a glance. Voight settled his arms over his chest, just watching.

"I thought it would take Crowley longer, is all," he muttered, fishing around in his wallet and dropping a bill into Antonio's palm. "Glad you're back."

"Uh-uh." Voight's face was firm, lip barely turned up at the corner, and Olinski pushed up from his seat.

"Shouldn't bet against the boss, kid," he handed Voight a ready cup of coffee, "Not when he can see anyway."

Voight chuckled, tipping the coffee to Olinsky in a quick thanks. "So," he surveyed the room, gaze fixing on where Lana stepped into view from the break room, leaning against the door frame with a warm look in her eye. "What do we got?"

Ruzek and Attwater ran him through what they working on for the commander, a series of carjackings with ties to a drug ring, and Voight shrugged.

"Alright, Erin, Jay, you work that with them. Rest of you," he glanced Olinsky's way, and Olinsky nodded.

"Kid's case, already on it." he waved Lana over to what he had been working on, as Jay and Erin focused on Attwater's desk. Voight walked through the sounds of shuffling papers and overlapping voices. It was the kind of energy this place held that filled the good moments here. Active but not desperate. Solid work that wasn't pressed against a ticking clock with someone's life on the line. They had seen too many of those.

Right here, it was simple police work. Some kids came up quick into a uniform and liked to talk about the action, the need to take someone down, hard and fast. Ruzek had a streak of that in him. But the satisfaction of a life saved, a bad man stopped on the streets of his city, they were the high moments that wouldn't survive without this. Without the diligent focus of his people, his team. What needed doing, they'd get it done, and Voight dropped into his chair with an absent smile, the kind barely there that you weren't even aware of. The kind that felt a little something like peace.

"Think we got something," Olinsky stuck his head into Voight's office, "possible lead on a location for Ringman. We're headed out."

Voight dropped the receiver in the cradle from a call that had just ended, and waved Olinski out the door. "You go. Milani stays."

"Fine, I'm taking Erin." Olinski didn't even pause. He didn't much care that Milani wasn't supposed to be in the field but if Voight wasn't sending her, Olinski wasn't taking her. Lana texted him the address and Olinsky grabbed Erin, headed out with a small wave.

Voight didn't get much space before Antonio knocked. "Hey, Ruzek and Jay are getting a warrant for our main suspect. You need any help with yours?"

Voight shook his head, "Quicker you guys close your case, sooner we can have all hands on this one."

Antonio gave half a shrug, but Voight stopped him before he stepped out.

"Erin mentioned the help you were, in sorting out my case." He leaned back, thumbs tapping together, "thanks, I appreciate it."

Antonio huffed a chuckle, his hands slipping in his pockets. "Glad to help," He hesitated. "What's gonna happen with Eric?"

Voight frowned, "The shooting might come up looking like self defense. He's facing possession and interfering with an investigation. First offense and all, they might not stick, but either way his career is over."

"Yeah, not too broken up about that," Antonio added. "Probably not easy on Lana, though, seeing him go down like that."

Voight shrugged, "He fell a long way from the officer he used to be. It caught up with him. She's better off knowing."

Anotnio's eyes turned calculating. Voight seemed awfully nonchalant considering Eric was now out of the picture and Lana was sticking around. It was unsettling, facing just how well this guy could hide what he must be thinking. Voight might actually have a chance now.

Although Lana wanting to give him one? That was another matter entirely.

Their gazes held, a challenge like Voight knew full well the last conversation they had had in this office was on the forefront of Antonio's mind, and he was daring him to say something.

"Well. Gonna get back to it." His fingers thrummed on the door jam, and Voight smirked. Enough to make Antonio very uncomfortable.

"You do that."

Olinsky's desk phone rang in the near empty office, Antonio looking up from his own phone call long enough to see Lana move to answer it.

She tugged a notepad out from under a stack of papers and took a message, bumping into a box under Olinski's chair. She hung up the phone, and tugged out the box, lips pursing at the label. It was some of the case files from a city over, and she popped the lid. It didn't take her long to figure out why Olinsky hadn't brought them over with the rest before. All of these cases were over 20 years old. It must have gotten sent over by accident. She opened another file, gaze slipping over the photo of a little boy, not more than five. Taken from a supermarket, no leads, no motive, just gone. Nothing left but a picture, a written description. Brown hair. Green eyes. 'S' shaped birthmark on the right arm. A child's life reduced to basic facts and one big mystery.

She snapped the folder closed. Laid it back in the box with the feeling like putting it there meant letting the crime stay unanswered. How many of the files they had scoured through looking for some connection to their own case would end up in a box like this, twenty years from now in the corner of some office?

Voight pulled his door open, slowing when he spotted Lana, absorbed in whatever she held. It took her a second to notice him and her gaze came up, thoughts she had been lost in taking a second to clear.

"Got something?"

"It's nothing," the lid dropped back on the box as she shook her shoulders out.

His lips quirked, "Let me know when Olinsky's back."

The call came in not ten minutes later. "We got him. Interrogation room 2."

Lana stood on the other side of the glass, watching Voight drop into the chair across from Ringman.

He wasn't what she was expecting. Tall, but thin, in the pale way. He kept shifting, eyes not lasting on his own reflection before darting away. He didn't just look guilty, he looked frightened.

"Look, I can't be here. if, if they-" he cut off, shuffling back in his chair, the legs scraping on the ground.

Voight didn't look all that concerned. "Who's they."

Martin's hands rung together, like he was trying to erase the sweat between his fingers.

"Oh, this'll be easy." Lana spared Antonio a look as his comment, but didn't respond.

"Why, why am I here. You're supposed to tell me that. I got rights."

Voight slipped a photo onto the table. A little girl in her school uniform, beaming at the camera.

"Witness saw you with her. When she was taken."

They waited for the denial. It was well known that case had been closed, a man sentenced for the kidnapping of that little girl.

A tear fell from Martin's eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah, I had her, okay? But I couldn't do it. I put her in that school, where they'd find her okay? I couldn't, I just couldn't, alright."

His hands clenched, fists slipping across the surface of the table as the edge caught his sleeve, tugged it up in the harsh room light.

"What this supposed to be," Antonio quipped, "Child snatcher with a conscience?"

"No," Lana's hand met his arm, absently pushing him back as she stepped towards the glass, like space would help her see better. Help her make out the splash of red along Ringman's forearm, curling in and out like a lengthy 'S.' "No, I think it's bigger than that..."

His hair was dark with an unwashed sheen, but she could see it, the brown peeking through that wanted to curl. Green eyes bright with tears that quivered. Maybe it was fear. Maybe in some tainted way it was relief.

"...Much bigger."

Antonio called after her when she abruptly headed for the door, debated going after her to see what idea she was chasing down. But their suspect was close to breaking and he didn't want to miss that.

Lana took the stairs two at a time. She shooed Olinsksy away and pulled the box of files out, searching for the one she had had earlier. She knew it was crazy. A theory stretched so thin you could see sunlight through it, but it was too much of a coincidence for her to ignore.

Olinsky cleared his throat, leaned back in the chair she had all but shoved away from his desk and now he was looking at her expectantly, turning a toothpick over in his hands.

"Benjamin Collings." She passed him the folder, "I saw it when I was going through these earlier."

"What about him." He popped the toothpick in his mouth and leaned forward to take the file.

"The description." She watched as his eyes scanned the description, waiting to see if he made the connection on his own.

Olisnky rolled the toothpick on his tongue. "You think this has something to do with Ringman?" She had left the interogation to dig this folder up, it had to connected in her head somehow.

"I think it is Ringman."

Olinksy laughed once, quieting when he realized she was serious. "This could be anyone." he tossed the folder onto his desk but Lana didn't blink.

"Less than 2% of the population has brown hair and green eyes."

He didn't look impressed. "That's millions of people."

"You narrow down age, gender, location. That number gets a lot smaller." Her finger came down on the file he had tossed aside. "and how many of them have an 's' shaped birthmark on thier right arm."

"Huh." He looked like he was actually considering it. "Give me my desk back."

Lana backed off as Olinsky walked his chair into place. He lifted the folder and tapped it on his desk a few times before holding it out to her.

"And show this to Voight."

Voight glanced down at his phone, taking in Lana's message. She had found something she thought was worth interupting him with.

"Excuse me a sec," Ringman was visibly confused as Voight stood, eyes holding the frightened glint of a cornered animal. It wasn't a look Voight particularly liked facing down in interregation. It had an unpredictable streak he didn't want to deal with.

Voight stepped into the hall and pulled the door closed behind him. "What do you got, Milani."

She had known instictually how he would be, factual and distant while in these walls. Hank Voight wasn't one to let much distract him while on the job. She understood that. Honestly, she preferred it.

Even if she was aware. That the hall was devoid of people or sound, and she knew what could be found in the forced focus of his gaze. There was no one to see if she stepped that much closer. "How's it going in there?"

"He's admitted the kidnapping but he's not giving me anything else. Too worried about repercussions if he names names." Voight didn't look worried, "He'll talk, once he's less afraid of them than he is of me."

A tactic Lana had seen work dozens of times but this time she didn't agree. "I'm not sure that's the right approach."

"Really." A ghost of a smirk, gaze seeped in a challenge that had Lana resisting the urge to step even closer and face him down with a smirk of her own.

His brow dropped, like he was waiting impatiently, like he wasn't tracing the edge of her lips in his mind, and Lana thumped the folder against his chest. They had work to do.

He listened to her theory, gaze roaming the few short paragraphs on the page, glancing a few times at the photo.

"You serious about this?' he spared her a look long enough to see she was set on it, and he leaned back with a shrug.

"Fine. You think this is something," he swung the door open beside him, waving her into interregation, "Show me."

Lana took the seat across from Ringman, aware of the way Voight faded into a corner. Watching but letting her take the lead. Letting her run with a theory that may not hold up. But it was worth figuring out.

She slipped the photo of the young girl from the table, letting a smile peek out as she looked at it.

"You know I always hated picture day. This girl? she looks so excited to be there. Must be what, kindergarten? 1st grade?"

He wouldn't meet her gaze, guilt for what he had already admitted doing splashed across his face, and Lana set the picture down gently.

"What she went through, being taken that young. How scared she must have been. Pulled away from her family, everyone she had known. It must have been terrifying. I can't even imagine."

He was staring at his hands, pale against the cold table.

"Can you?"

He looked up then, not understanding the question, and she pressed. "Can you imagine, what that would have been like."

His gaze skittered away, landing on Voight but very quickly bouncing off. She moved the new file slowly across the table, the 20 year old case of a missing child, and let it fall open to the first page.

"I think maybe you know exactly what that's like."

It was difficult, watching the way his face flinched at the photograph, eyes flicking across the description, his hand going subconsciously to cover his birthmark as he read the words on the page.

"I don't. I don't know what you're saying."

It was a feeble attempt at a denial, and it drew Voight in.

"You couldn't take that girl because you knew what it felt like. You didn't want that for her." He leaned his hands on the chair beside Milani, and Ringman snapped.

"I didn't hurt her. I gave her back!"

"We know that. We know you did." Milani's voice was calming, assuring. "She's safe, you know. You did that for her. But you need to tell us, why you took her in the first place."

He broke, sobbing into his hands. Saying he was sorry over and over. It didn't take long then, getting the answers they needed. Voight left Milani in the interegation room, finishing up the questioning. It had been a good call, an out there theory that had paid off but the look she gave him as he stepped away wasn't smug. It held the compassion he had seen a dozen times before, rooted so deeply in who she was she found it for everyone she met. He was glad, in a million different ways that she chosen to stay. Not just for him but for this unit. She brought something to the job that was hard to find, and as he dialed Benson he fought the urge to thank her over and over for sending Milani their way.

"Hank, how are you?"

"We found him," Voight skipped the pleasantries before he said something stupid and he could practically feel Benson lean into the call.

"Ringman?"

"Yeah. And he's not just gonna name names. He's a previous victim himself."

He knew the fields Benson specialized in, how quickly she pieced it all together even as he filled her in. That they had a witness tied to a child smuggling operation that had been active for decades. His hunch was paying off but it was bigger than his team could handle and he heard the sound of a laptop clicking closed.

"Do you need some help?"

Voight's lips turned up at the corner, "Whatever you can send."

"Alright, let me wrap up a few things here."

Voight ended the call and headed to fill in his team. He didn't know how far this reached, or how many of those files he had poured over were tied up in this, but they were going to find out. They were going to get answers. And they were going to find the people behind this.

Lana was exhausted. They had spent days before this pouring through scraps of leads trying to find the smallest connection and now they had more information than they could process. Ringman wasn't very high on the food chain, hadn't been used in actually taking the children until the girl he let go in that school. But he had been caught in the web of this tangled operation his entire life. A glorified errand boy, a low hanging shoe string that got kicked around but he had kept his ears open.

It was heartbreaking. He had been trapped in the life but Lana knew the cage had only been as real as he had let it be.

He hadn't known anything else. Hadn't been given the chance to even know he could walk away but it was fear that had kept him under their control. That twisted lie that he belonged to them now. That bond they pretended was family.

They saw it all the time, kids from tattered homes finding their brothers in a gang that taught loyalty above anything and sent its members to early graves. Too many of them never got out. Because they believed the lie that they never could.

Ringman never wanted this. It took them asking him to step up, to get involved in putting his hands on a child for him to break. A life time of fear and concessions but he had reached his limit of what he was willing to let happen around him and the dam was breaking free.

It was the kind of case careers were made out of and the moment the Commander had realized she had given them the green light in an instant.

The plan was to flip people to get names, to chase this higher and higher up the food chain. Collect enough intel to eventually take down a major opperation. Patrol had been pulling in anyone Ringman named, Voight and Antonio had spent the day in interrogation, wearing each suspect down until they broke, pushing through the exhaustion themselves. It would take time, they all knew it. Days to work their way through all of this but they were finally moving and no one wanted to quit.

Voight ended his interrogation, took the name his guy had dished up and headed up to Intelligence. It was past six and no one had left.

Antonio was hanging behind Lana's chair, reading out a name for her to find off a list. Erin was on the phone, gesturing at Jay's notepad like she couldn't read what he had written. It was crowded and busy and when Erin ended her call, Voight cleared his throat.

"You guys did good today. Now go home."

Erin opened her mouth, but Voight didn't let her argue. "This will all be here tomorrow. Get some rest. We're gonna need it for the days ahead."

Antonio sighed, straightened with a tight groan. "He's right, I could use a drink. Who's joining?"

Ruzek snagged his coat, convincing Attwater to tag along. Erin looked at Jay and just shrugged. Antonio dropped a hand on Lana's shoulder.

"You coming? It'll be good, decompress."

"Thanks, but I'm tired." She saved her documents and clicked off her monitor, not quite looking up. "Think I'm just gonna go home, get some sleep."

His look tried to convince her, but Lana shoved him away. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Your loss," he called, following the others out.

It was amazing how quiet it became, the office filled with lingering energy that slowly settled. Lana was gathering her things, not in any hurry, letting herself take her time.

She watched Voight in her peripherals, shrugging into his jacket, turning off the light in his office and stepping up to her desk.

She felt silly, for feeling nervous, like a school girl afraid to glance up at her crush. She was too old for butterflies but something fluttered in her stomach and flittered on the tip of her tongue.

"Have a good night, Lana."

He spoke softly, then he started to walk away.

Lana sputtered.

Voight stopped at the sound, turning to face her. "...what?"

"You don't, you're not gonna-?" Lana was practically chewing on her tongue, trying to make sense of him just walking off when they, they were just... he was just looking at her and her cheeks heated. "I guess I thought maybe you would want to see... me. us. eachother."

Her words were as babbled as her thoughts and Voight pointed at the stair like an accusation. "You just told Antonio you wanted to go home and crash."

Voight could not figure out what he was missing here. Lana was tired. He was gonna respect that.

"I didn't mean it. Not if you wanted to-" She ground to a halt in frustration, watching his lips quirk.

"You didn't eat lunch." A statement. He had noticed, and Lana folded her jacket sleeve over her arm at the change of subject.

"No, I was busy."

"So...dinner?" He shrugged like it was an unnecessary question and Lana felt a stupid smile pull.

"Sure."

Dinner ended up being left over take out at his house. Voight would have suggested a dozen different places, but Lana didn't feel like wasting energy on anything else. She popped the container out of the microwave as Voight stepped into the kitchen.

"You sure that's all you want?"

He had changed, into a long sleeved tee that fit the frame his button downs liked to hide. She liked the way he was built, natural strength that filled him out just enough to be firm under her hands. His muscles were built to be used, and she enjoyed the way he used them.

It was strange in a way, letting herself appreciate him. Not caring if he caught the way her gaze lingered. She had been so confused for so long, feelings she didn't even know she had had that she had constantly tried to hide. He was still waiting for her answer, watching as she set the food on the table and approached him.

There was a softness in her eye. Something so lightly tender he suddenly wasn't sure he could remember how to move when she stopped just in front of him, let her palm come to rest on his chest.

"You're good at what you do, Hank. Intelligence, the team, they're lucky to have you."

He didn't know why she had said it, why it had even been on her mind, but it chipped away at a piece of him he hadn't even known was unsteady. He worked hard to be what he could for them, do right by them and the people they took care of, but he would never had called them lucky to have him. He did everything in his power to be just enough. Never expected to be viewed as anything more.

The breath that pressed against her palm was shaky, his throat clearing roughly before he could respond, but Lana didn't push. She let her arms wrap around him and settled her head against that chest.

"Thank you for letting me see you tonight."

Her head tucked beneath his chin and he laughed, a short wry sound.

"Of course I wanted to see you, Lana."

They didn't talk about the case. It was almost as if they had forgotten about it. As much as either of them could.

Voight carried the dishes back into the kitchen, leaving Lana curled on the couch. She flipped through an old photo album, laughing a little as he came back in.

"My word, is that Erin?" she turned it enough that he could see the photo, "How did you come to have her?"

Voight shrugged, taking the place next to her. "That's her story."

Of course it was. Lana wasn't even sure why she had asked. He wouldn't share things Erin might not want Lana to know.

He let his arm drop around her shoulders, his head fall back against the couch. Body completely relaxing. He cracked an eye open whenever she asked about a photo, answered in a voice that grew steadily deeper until he had fallen asleep. Lana wasn't prepared for it, the feeling that encompassed her. It was warm protection. It had never felt like that before. Even with Eric. He was never that enveloping, that comforting. But Voight held her in a way that pressed the walls of her heart until they echoed.

She nuzzles into his shoulder, hiding into that warmth, and he wakes up.

"Sorry," he looked around, shaking his head, "did I drop off?"

"You've been putting alot of hours in. You should get some sleep." He didn't quite catch the way her voice wavered, full of emotion she didn't quite know how to face.

"So should you" He dropped a kiss on her forehead, like a passing gentle thought. It made her feel more cared for than some 'i love you's' that she had heard before.

He finds her her jacket, there's an offer to stay in his eyes but he doens't argue when she makes the call to go home.

It didn't feel like running away. It was the right choice. She needed her things for work tomorrow and she stepped into her own apartment looking forward to feeling her own bed.

But the sheets were cold and the cieling was bare, and she regretted not staying in his arms.

Her phone buzzes as she reaches for it. A single text from Voight.

-it's harder to sleep now-

She falls asleep with a faint smile.