Summary: After an undercover gone wrong, this is how Hank Voight says sorry after feeling guilty towards an injured Halstead. But it leads to a revelation of a bigger secret. Totally Halstead and Voight. It is more Voight as father figure than a leader.

Warning : A mention of child abuse.

Author's Note : This is going to be a two parted story. And it's probably AU because Erin is gone more than three weeks. This probably will never happened in the real show. For your info, this is my first time writing a CPD story because of the stupid plot bunnies. I also didn't use any beta reader so all mistakes are mine. Please noted that English is not my first language.

Disclaimer : CPD and its characters belong to NBC and the production team. As usual, the title is from Jamestown Story's song.

It's Like a Knife in a Gunfight

Chapter 1

by SingleMinded

It was an idle day without a case and Hank Voight was taking his leisure time wrapping up some paperwork including the one where he was one man down for at least five weeks – or else, he would never get any replacement for Jay Halstead.

He was about to pen down his signature to the last page when Antonio Dawson's head appeared behind the glass wall after a soft knock.

"Sarge, can I take off earlier? I need to pick up Halstead from the hospital."

The upper ranked officer's brows grew together as he glanced up to the detective. "And why in the world do you need to pick him up today? I thought he needs to stay for at least another three days?" It was a question but he thought he knew the answer beforehand.

"By the way, his brother can take care of him." With that statement, he continued his work, dismissing the detective.

"Will asked me to pick Jay up because he discharged himself about an hour ago but Will is still on duty. He said Jay is in no state to get home by himself. It's either me pick him up or we will found him dead on his way up to their apartment." Antonio said.

Voight looked up, staring at him in disbelieve.

"His words, not mine." The detective shrugged, without any hint of guilt.

The Sergeant scratched his not-so-itchy jaw, looking a little deep in thought. Antonio fidgeted, starting to lose his patience while waiting for his approval.

After like a minute, Voight stood up while hands were fixing up the papers in front of him into a folder. He moved past Antonio, grabbing his jacket behind the door.

"I'll go"

Antonio blinked, staring dumbfounded to his superior – making sure his hearing was not wrong.

"You… what?"

"I said I'll go." With that, he stepped out of the room, aiming for the stairs.

"Hey Sarge!" Antonio's loud call halted him on the first step of the stairs. He moved around, waiting for the guy to reach him.

The Hispanic man approached him silently while glancing to his side – aware of a couple set of eyes from Ruzek and Olinsky who were accompanying their scene suspiciously.

He cleared his throat, feeling awkward out of nowhere. "Jay just do his job, so do you. It's not your fault that he got injured."

Reflexively, Voight pulled his gaze from meeting the eyes before him. His jaw set in annoyance of getting caught before putting his foot back to the next step – walking away without any disagreement.

...

"Voight, thank you for being here. I'm sorry, I thought Tony or at least Ruzek can help me but when he called back telling me that you…" a breathless Will Halstead greeted him at the floor lobby.

"Hey kid, don't worry about it. It's fine." Voight flashed a small smile, trying to calm down the young doctor who obviously felt uncomfortable upon receiving his help. He seemed a little restless, probably because of running up here from the ER – as the sweat was still visible on his forehead.

They walked side by side to the orthopedic wing.

"Today is a little busy down there. I asked him to wait for me to finish my shift but instead, the stubborn brother of mine thought that it's the best decision to wait for a cab at the bus stop. I found him winded at the nurse station. I just don't want him to hurt himself further, that's why I need someone to take him home." Will held the door for the older guy to step inside the Unit.

"So he really good to go?" Voight voiced out his doubt, his sight was eyeing the room number one by one as they passed the doors until they reached 318's.

"Not really. He can move around but with a strict bed rest for at least two weeks."

They walked into the room, just to find Jay sitting at the edge of his bed – right arm on a blue sling, cuts and bruises were visible on his face and behind the grey shirt, they knew that the ribs were heavily wrapped with bandages as three of them were broken.

Jay stopped playing with his stitches on his left eyebrow, looking up to welcome his guest. But he was left agape at the sight of his boss. His eyes wildly searching for another figure beside his brother and Voight – no Antonio in view.

"How are you doing, kid?" the greeting sounded unusually nice.

Jay offered a small smile, thinking that this was the first time Voight paying him a visit since his admittance to the hospital – the second time if taking him to the ER and staying for the first night counted. He was still unsure about the memory since he was dazed in and out after being beaten like a pulp on their last case – especially when the superior was no longer present at the hospital after that – but when Will told him the story, it was hard not to believe.

"Well, good enough. Thank you for dropping by Sarge, but I'm going home. Actually, I'm waiting for Tony, he should be here in a few minutes."

"Well, he won't. Let's go then." Voight grabbed the duffle bag from the bed while Will Halstead was pulling a wheelchair that was already there and setting it up in front of his brother.

Without a word, to Will's surprise, Jay was sitting slowly onto the wheelchair – when he was pretty sure the wheelchair was an argument worthy to his brother. But now, he was pushing the younger man silently to the main door.

That must be the influence of Voight.

He thought as he looked at the older man who walked along by their side. But even though everything went smoothly, he couldn't help but noticed the troubled face of his brother – as if he was so deep in thought – as they reached Voight's car. Carefully, he helped Jay to get into the car and sitting comfortably on the passenger's side.

"Take care Jay, I'll be home first thing tomorrow morning." He patted Jay's back a few times before closing the passenger's door.

"Thank you so much Voight. Oh, and this is the key to the apartment." Will was holding up a bundle of keys to Voight when the old detective just chuckled.

"I'm taking him to my house. Just make sure to fetch him back tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay then." Will nodded. He found himself speechless, but at the same time feeling so grateful to learn that his brother was not going to be alone tonight. He never got the time to know more about Hank Voight but from what he heard – obviously from his brother – Jay and Voight were not really in the same clique. He also never knew how Hank Voight really treated his brother at work but he saw something different about him tonight, something that put him in utter respect for the leader.

...

He tried to push himself up, leaning heavily against the wall for some support. The copper taste inside his mouth were making him sick – or maybe the sick feeling was resulted by the ache all over his body. He heard the guys talking around him.

"You think you're clever enough? Huh?!"

61…

He felt his body tensed as another kick reached his torso – he could even heard the crack this time. He doubled over but another kick sent him back, hitting the wall hard. He coughed up blood, not sure where it was coming from – either it was from the cut inside his cheek or from inside his own body – and he didn't care anymore. Like a slow motion cut in the movie, he could feel his body lost its balance and met the pavement with a thud.

62… 63…

He received two more kicks on his back – grunting silently in the middle of the night. His right cheek felt numb on the hard surface and he could only see the black spots in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard the distant siren along with a mass noises around him.

He could feel a pair of strong hands carefully trying to turn him around.

"Hey Halstead. Come on kid, wake up."

"…wake up…."

...

"… wake up. We're here."

He woke up with a jolt, regretting it shortly after he did. His face contorted in pain as his left hand was holding his bandaged ribs lightly.

As soon as he went pass the pain, he looked around confusedly, ignoring the strong frame hovering over his side of the opened passenger's door.

"It's your house," Jay said softly and it sounded dumb enough to receive a smirk from his boss.

"Yeah, and you're staying here tonight. Come on kid, let set you down so you can rest." Voight said, as he moved aside, waiting for the struggled Halstead to get out of the car.

The young man was about to argue but as the exhaustion took over, he gave up.

They walked inside the house in silent. He had been there only three times – every single time with Erin and never alone like this. As soon as he stepped inside, Jay felt so awkward. Never in his mind it occurred to him that Hank Voight would welcome him to his home like tonight. Looking at the ray of family pictures – Voight, his late wife, Erin, Justin and some with Justin's new family – he couldn't help but feeling like an intruder to a personal secret.

Erin didn't talk much about her life with Voight before so the less information he knew about the family just spiced the sentiment more.

Voight cleared his throat, sensing the troubled mind of the young man. "You can use Justin's room. I'll fix us some dinner." He gestured the room at the end of the hallway while his eyes were gazing to the duffel bag slung on Jay's uninjured arm.

"Need some help with that?"

"Nah. I'm good. Thanks Sarge." He smiled slightly. Voight nodded before they parted away in the middle of the hallway – Jay to Justin's room while Voight to the kitchen.

The room was a typical boy's room – Cubs' related items were hang everywhere also some photos of cars and a few celebrities. He could see that Voight was taking care the room neatly, as if his son was never left for army. A part of the wall also filled with family pictures – Erin included.

He lifted up his head looking at the wall for far too long when a pang of dizziness swayed him a little to the left. Didn't want to risk a humiliation of being found passing out on the floor, he slowly sat at the edge of the bed.

The dizziness didn't go away though. So he decided to lay down a bit – closing his eyes maybe for a minute.

Just a minute.

...

36… 37… 38…

The violent kicks kept coming. From his left, his right, even at his back. His right arm felt so numb of shielding too much hits. He was pretty sure if it wasn't broken already, it must had been badly fractured because its muscles couldn't defend the bone anymore.

39… 40…

"Stop…" A grunt. He managed only a grunt. His crackled breath quickened.

41… 42… 43…

"Stop!" He thought he screamed it out – but maybe it was just inside his head because he didn't hear a thing from his own lips. He knew he couldn't stop the man from beating him but he just wanted to stop the ticking inside his head.

44… 45…

45 beatings in nine minutes. 5 hits in a minute. Not much but why it hurts like hell?

"Arghhhh….." Another grunt escaped. His brain choose a bad time to be too mathematical analytic.

He managed to look up just in time to see an ugly black boot sole in front of his face.

He cringed.

"Dad… NO!"

TBC

Pheww... So how about a review :) Thank you for reading. I'll update in a few days. Maybe if I'm encouraged enough, I'll update tomorrow.