Words: night, bourbon, fire

Night had fallen over Chicago hours ago. It was a starry, cold night. Only a few people were still out on the streets of Chicago at this time of night. And only a few police officers were left at the precinct.

Hank was the only one from Intelligence still sitting at his desk writing his report.

The last case had taken a lot out of him and his team - both physically and mentally - the case had deprived them of sleep, and the images would haunt them all for some time to come. Hank had therefore sent his team home and wanted to write the report himself.

After all, unlike most of the members of his team, only an empty house awaited him. Jay had his brother, Kevin had his girlfriend and Adam and Hailey had each other.

Anyway, Hank wanted his team to quickly put the horror of the case behind them. He wanted everyone to be able to forget the gruesome images and while he relived everything as he wrote the report. Alone.

He was all the more surprised when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Hank looked up from the file on the table in front of him. And for a moment he thought it might be Al who wanted to remind him that he had a life outside the precinct and maybe have a glass of bourbon with him to forget the horror of today, or Trudy who just wanted to see how he was doing. But it wasn't either of them.

It was Kim Burgess, who had just come up the stairs and gone straight to her desk.

Hank wondered what she was doing here. But perhaps she had forgotten something that she wanted to get now. And while he had noticed her, Kim had not yet realized that she was not alone here in the bullpen.

Hank watched her from his desk for a moment and then wanted to get back to his report. His eyes were already back on the sheet of paper and the photos on the table in front of him.

However, there was a noise that he couldn't place at first.

Hank looked up from his report and over to Kim. Sitting slumped in her desk chair, her face buried in her hands, Hank heard the sound of sobs. Kim was crying.

Immediately the worst-case scenarios ran through Hank's mind - what had happened? Had something happened to Kim's sister? Or her niece? Or was something wrong with someone from the team? And if so, why hadn't he been informed?

Hank was at her side in just a few steps.

"Burge-, Kim, are you okay? What happened? Are you okay? Is something wrong with you? Or the team?" he asked worriedly.

Kim lifted her head and looked at him. Hank saw the pain in Kim's eyes. The despair. The tears that ran silently down her cheeks. And smudges of soot on her face.

"Kim?"

"There's been a fire. In my house. Fire was everywhere and I-" Kim broke off.

And at that moment Hank noticed the clothes Kim was wearing. An oversized T-shirt and pajama pants, sneakers, a CFD fleece jacket.

„And-"

"It's all gone. All my things - the whole apartment, the house, it's all burnt down. I have nothing left. I . . . I wanted to sleep on the bench in the locker room because I didn't know where else to go," Kim had gotten more and more quiet towards the end.

"Oh Kim," and then he put his hand on her arm in a comforting gesture, because he didn't dare put his arm around her. Didn't dare to hug her.

"Somehow it will be okay. I'll think about what to do tomorrow, but today, today I somehow don't have the strength. I just want to close my eyes and forget for a moment that I've lost everything."

Hank hesitated for a moment.

Kim couldn't stay here, he knew that much. The bench was not suitable for sleeping, not even for one night. He had another idea - although he might regret it the next day, but right now he thought it was a good idea. The impulsive decision he made. Yet at that moment he couldn't help himself.

„Stay with me – tonight."

Surprised, Kim looked at him. She hadn't expected this. She had just wanted to be in a place where she felt safe when she came here to the precinct. A place that would give her back some of the sense of safety she had lost when her apartment burned down. Except she hadn't anticipated Hank Voight. Or his offer. The one he specified at that moment.

"I have a spare room that's been empty since Erin came to New York. And a few of Erin's things should still be in the closet. That would give you a place to stay for a few days and tomorrow we'll figure out what to do next."

"Thank you, Sar-,...Hank," Kim said.

"Do you need a moment, or shall we be on our way?" he asked.

"I-" Kim hesitated.

"I'll just get my jacket," Hank said when Kim didn't answer. But he guessed what her answer would have been. And so he turned around.

Kim watched him go into his office and return a moment later with his leather jacket and scarf in his hand, which he held out to Kim.

"Put these on. It's cold outside today."

Kim reached for the jacket and slipped it on before wrapping the scarf around her neck. And the moment she smelled the aftershave hanging in the wool fabric, she realized that she hadn't come here today because she was looking for that feeling of safety she sought in this place, but because she instinctively knew that only one person could give her that feeling. Hank Voight.