72. Chapter 72

A quicker update because I couldn't leave you hanging for too long - thanks to all who continue to comment!

Hank's world had flipped upside down. Eight months ago, he had Justin and Camille to worry about. Eight months ago, he was used to shrugging off details about where the young, scrappy street kid he busted a while back was sleeping. He had his family, and his family was his priority.

Eight months later, and that same scrappy street kid was his family. Erin Lindsay was a fighter, her exterior hardened to the world that didn't hold back in what felt to her like a never-ending onslaught of suffering. She felt alone and exhausted, addicted to painkillers and at the mercy of her mother and abusive boyfriend. But Hank loved the spark in Erin, the spark that never seemed to give out, no matter what life threw at her.

He loved her like she was his own, and had vowed to protect her at all costs.

"I'm worried, Hank." Camille placed her hand atop her husband's calloused fingers, "She knows better."

Hank grunted and glanced over to the oven, where the time was staring back at him in red numbers. 1:07AM. Erin had a midnight curfew. After those eight months of staying with them, Hank and Camille decided that extending her curfew two hours would demonstrate the trust that she had built up with them. "Shouldn't have trusted her," he muttered, taking a slow sip of the coffee his wife had brewed two hours ago.

"She's just a child," Camille said gently, "And she told us she was just going to the movies with Annie, I'm sure she'll be home any minute."

"I'm going to go find her," Hank decided, rising to his feet. His face softened when he saw his wife's worried expression, "You won't be able to sleep otherwise, dear."

Camille opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the house phone ringing shrilly. "Hello?" Hank answered gruffly, "Erin? Erin?" Camille widened her eyes are her husband, hoping that the young girl they had taken in was alive and well on the other end of the call.

"I'm at Bunny's," Erin managed, her words slurred, "I-I think her boyfriend slipped me somethin' cause I'm dizzy and I'm hiding in the bathroom-"

"I'll be there shortly," Hank barked out, "Stay put." He grabbed his keys off the table, "She says the mother's boyfriend drugged her. I don't buy it." Hank reached for his gun as well.

"She's just a child," Camille repeated, "Children are allowed to make mistakes."

"This one has made too many," Hank snapped, "Al will meet me there."

"Bring her home, Hank," Camille said firmly, "Bring her here."

He nodded in response before kissing her cheek gently. "I'll be right back."

Camille jumped at the sound of pounding at the door. She quickly vacated her spot at the kitchen table and hurried to the front door. She opened it to reveal her husband with the young woman they had taken into their home cradled in his arms, her fair skin leeched of all color. "Hank!" Camille gasped, opening the door wider so that he could enter, "My god."

"I'm going to bring her to the bathroom," Hank said, maneuvering up the narrow staircase, Erin still limp in his arms, "Can you get some extra towels?"

She nodded wordlessly and followed her husband up the steps. She quietly shut her son's door before reaching into the hallway closet for extra towels. "What happened?" Camille breathed as Hank sank to the ground, Erin now half draped on his lap as he tried to get her sitting up, "Do we need to take her to the hospital?"

Hank shook his head, "We just need to keep an eye on her. Hopefully she throws up." He stroked Erin's cheek gently. "Hey, kid? Can you hear me?"

Erin moaned slightly and Camille exhaled, the child making the first sign of life since she entered their house. Camille sank down to her knees and tucked Erin's messy hair behind her ear. She brought a hand up to Erin's neck, "Hank. Her pulse is racing."

"It's whatever's in her system," Hank responded, holding Erin's slim wrist in his calloused hand, "If she doesn't get sick soon, we'll take her in."

"Her mother did this, didn't she?" Camille's eyes were wet with unshed tears, in disbelief that any mother would sit back and allow her child to be drugged.

With that, Erin pitched forward and vomited, thankfully making into the toilet. She heaved again and again, thin body convulsing painfully. Hank nodded grimly, keeping a hand on Erin's back as she breathed heavily, body bent over the toilet. "Al's got the soda she was drinking and is taking it to the lab. Looks to me like the boyfriend dosed her,"

"I'm sorry," Erin croaked, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I'm sorry."

"Shh, Erin-honey," Camille cooed, carefully running a wash cloth over Erin's chapped lips, "You're okay."

"I-I found her in the bathroom, hiding," Hank managed, moving his hand from Erin's back to the back of her head, "Bunny's boyfriend was belligerent, Bunny was passed out on the couch. I, um-"

Erin retched again, the bile from her belly burning her throat as she coughed. It was a moment before she finally quieted, her head resting against thin arms against the toilet seat. Hank cleared his throat, "When I got there, she was barely conscious in the bathroom, mumbling about not taking anything." Hank swallowed guiltily, "I didn't believe her. I was ready to haul her ass out of there and ground her for eternity, til Al picked up the soda."

"I'm sorry," Erin whimpered, feebly lifting her head off her arms. Hank's gaze softened further and Camille continued to wipe her face with the cloth, streaks of dark make up coming away in its wake. "S-she needed a fix," Erin rasped, throat raw, "A-and I poured the soda for me but he came home a-and I guess-" She coughed violently, but produced nothing, having thankfully emptied her system.

"Not your fault, kiddo," Hank said, "Not your fault." The phone rang downstairs and he quickly rose, "I'll be right back."

Erin was folded against the toilet, her brain feeling like it had been through a blender. "I-I missed curfew," she whimpered, "I'm sorry." She looked at Camille, eyes clouded with tears and whatever drugs her soda had been spiked with, "P-please don't throw me out."

"Oh, honey," Camille closed the gap between herself and the young woman, bringing her shaking frame close, "We're not throwing you out."

"I'm sorry," Erin let out a sob, "Hank's going to kill me."

"No, no, Erin-honey," Camille rubbed her back, "You're Hank's girl. He knows it wasn't your fault." She held Erin closer, trying to bring as much comfort as she could, "You're our girl, and you're safe now, my love."

A few minutes later, Hank reappeared in the doorway, "How's she doing?" he asked, as quietly as his deep voice would allow.

"She'll be alright," Camille whispered, now cradling the young woman against her chest, "She's worried we're going to throw her out."

Hank swallowed thickly and sank back to the ground. He gently tucked a tendril of Erin's damp hair behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered open, hazel orbs finally clear from whatever Bunny's trash bag of a boyfriend had spiked her drink with, "Not going to happen," Hank insisted, "You're here for as long as you want."

Erin exhaled softly in relief, "Thank you," she mumbled, "Thank you."

"I'm sorry for not believing you in the first place," Hank replied, feeling overcome with emotion as Erin leaned against him with exhaustion, "This wasn't your fault."

Erin opened her eyes slowly and caught Camille's gaze. "I'm glad you were gonna haul my ass outta there and ground me," she whispered, "Nobody's ever cared enough about me to ground me for stupid shit like that."

"We care, sweetheart," Camille replied. She stood to fetch some ginger ale and crackers from the kitchen. Erin let out an uncharacteristic whimper, as if protesting the older woman's movements. "I'll be right back, Erin-honey. Just going to grab you some crackers and ginger ale to get something in your belly, alright? Hank'll be here with you."

Erin nodded, still leaning against her almost father, "I must smell really bad," she mumbled, "I-I'm sorry, you don't need to stay."

"Yes I do," Hank replied quickly, pressing a kiss atop her sweaty forehead, "I'm here to stay kiddo, and so are you."

The ambulance taking a turn jerked Hank out of his reverie. Erin, now a fully grown woman with a family of her own, was still laid upon the gurney in pain. She was in and out of consciousness as they sped along the street toward Chicago Medical Center, the rush hour traffic not making maneuvering any easier.

She let out a whine of displeasure as the ambulance took another turn. "We're almost there," Dawson assured both her and Hank, readjusting the facemask on Erin's nose, "Looks like the bullet made it through your shoulder, but we're going to get you into surgery as soon as possible, okay, Erin?"

Hank swallowed his emotions when he saw tears creeping out of his girl's eye. He tenderly wiped her cheek, dismayed that the blood from his hands and the blood from her hair turned the tears a light pink. "You're being so brave, kiddo," he praised, as if he was talking to a little girl. Of course, she was his little girl, no matter how grown up she was.

Erin cried out in pain, sending the monitor she was hooked up to into a beeping frenzy. The ambulance squealed to a stop and Erin was quickly unloaded. Hank stumbled out of the ambulance, almost in a trance. "Hank!" Will exclaimed, racing up to Erin's gurney, "You alright?"

The older man nodded wordlessly, "Just-just help her, alright?"

Will nodded in confirmation, "You're going to be just fine, Erin."

Erin sat snuggled between Jay's legs as he gently massaged her aching shoulders. She'd body slammed a perp earlier that day and was feeling the after-effects in a big way. "It was a really impressive tackle," Jay said, pressing a kiss to her neck as they sat on his couch, "That guy was at least double your size."

"Mm," Erin replied, leaning into his touch, "Feels good." She shuddered slightly and Jay pulled the blanket closer around her, "It's freezing in here," she mumbled, her head drooping slightly as Jay's thumbs soothingly massaged her back.

"It's not summer anymore," Jay reminded her, "It's going to be really cold, really soon."

"Least you're warm." She leaned back when he paused, resting her head against his chest, "Thank you."

"Of course," Jay kissed her lips, which she quickly deepened. She turned and straddled his lap, gripping the sides of his scruffy cheeks with tender fingers, "You feelin' up to it?" he asked, surprised. When they had left the district, Erin had dramatically expressed that all she wanted to do was lay on the couch and eat take out. It had taken a lot convincing for her to agree to let Jay take care of her at his place.

"Mm," she replied, kissing him again, "Feelin' much better."

Jay flashed a boyish grin as Erin tugged at his t shirt.

"Jay!" Will shouted, abruptly stumbling into the apartment, oblivious to the rapidly escalating scene in front of him, "Lil' brother!"

"Will!" Erin yelped at the same time Jay shouted, "Dude, what the fuck?"

Erin jumped off her partner and drew the blanket around herself while Jay sputtered, "What are you doing here man? How did you get a key to my place?"

"I am drunk," Will declared, tossing the key on the coffee table, "Made a copy or two last time I was here, no biggie." He offered a cheeky grin, "So you guys…are doin' it, huh?"

"Not tonight, thanks to you," Jay scoffed, "Don't you have your own apartment? I don't know, where you live?"

"Gas leak," the redheaded doctor replied, "Got out of my uber, thought I could ya know, just crash since I'd been up for 36 hours but they said it'd be some time, so I thought I'd crash with my favorite little brother."

Jay practically growled, "You could have texted."

"Drunk fingers," Will waggled his fingers sheepishly, "Couldn't get 'em to work their normal magic. Don't worry, you won't even know I'm here."

"I highly doubt that," Jay responded and turned to Erin, "I'm really sorry about him."

"Can we leave him on the couch tonight?" She stood, blanket still wrapped around her, "Don't want this hot-shot doctor to think he can kick us out of your bed."

"You wanna stay?" He was surprised. He thought that the second Will showed up, Erin would decide to head out.

She nodded and offered a smile, "I like being here. Plus, seeing you stress out about your drunk brother is kinda funny. He's raiding your fridge, by the way."

"Will!" Jay hollered, "Put the beer down."

"Honestly, I can't believe you landed a girl like Erin," Will mused, taking a long sip of his coffee. He and Jay were at the bar at Molly's with Natalie and a few of the women from 51, as well as Burgess and Atwater. He was still recovering from the night before, and had opted for coffee instead of his normal beer.

Jay took a sip of his beer and nodded, "I mean, she put up with you last night."

"That's what I'm saying," Will insisted, "I mean, none of your other girlfriends would put up with your drunk older brother."

"You haven't met any of my ex's," Jay scoffed, "For good reason."

Will chuckled and drank more coffee, "Sorry again, lil' brother."

"C'mon Erin," Will murmured, jogging alongside the gurney as Erin was wheeled throughout the hospital toward the operating room, "Stay with us."

As if on cue, Erin's eyes fluttered open again and she let out a gasp of pain, "Hey, hey," he greeted, taking his almost sister in law's hand in his own, "You're going to be alright, Erin, okay? I know this isn't the Halstead face you're lookin' for, but Jay'll be down here as soon as you're out of surgery."

She let out a moan in response, eyelids fluttering again, "We gotta get her under, now," one of the doctors shouted, providing additional instructions. Will gripped Erin's hand tighter as she fought to stay awake, eyes full of tears and fear.

"S-s-st," she attempted, her grip weakening as the anesthetic coursed through her system, "Jay."

Will nodded, understanding exactly what she wanted. "Don't worry, I'll stay until Jay gets here. Promise."

"Hey, Sarge," Jay greeted as he entered the district. He paused when he saw Trudy Platt's face, "What's going on?"

"Halstead, I'm going to need you to come with me," she instructed, "Come on."

"What's going on?" Jay repeated, glancing around the lobby of the 21st, "Sarge?"

"I need you to stay calm," Platt hedged, "Just-"

"Tell me!" Jay exploded, panic ramping up within him, "Tell me what's going on."

"It's Erin," Platt said finally, tears shining in her eyes as Jay's went wild, "She and Voight responded to a drunk and disorderly and the guy had a gun. She's on her way to Med right now. Halstead…" she swallowed, "She was shot."

Without a word, Jay turned on his heel and raced out of the district as fast as he possibly could, intent on getting to his partner as fast as possible.

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