AN: Hi everybody. I have not written fanfiction in ages, but this story is already half done and today I thought, "eh, why not, let's share it". This story takes place when Erin and Jay are officially together, after Voight gave Jay the "green light". Although the core of the story involves Erin, the story focuses heavily on Jay and Hank, the way they interact together and the way they view each other.

This story is not beta-ed so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings for this story: cursing, violence, depiction of injury

Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago PD, don't own the character, I'm just playing with them, and I'm not making any money doing so.

When the dam breaks

Chapter 1

JAY - - - -

Jay watches, frozen to the spot, as the gurney on which Erin is lying is pushed through the doors that lead to the OR. He feels oddly numb, the adrenaline dump leaving him strangely disconnected from the rest of the world. The sense of urgency is still there, but he has nothing to focus it on. Everything is in the hands of her doctors, the ones with the grim faces and pessimistic frowns. His brain refuses to acknowledge the reality of the situation. It can't be happening. This isn't real. This is all some kind of nightmare from which he will wake up any second. He watches as Ruzek paces back and forth like a tiger in a too small cage. Olinski's gaze is stuck on the OR's doors, as if, with enough concentration, he might see through them. Voight, Dawson and Atwater are not there yet, and that's kind of odd, they were right behind the ambulance.

Jay's hands are still covered with Erin's blood, from when he tried to put pressure on the wounds, before the paramedics arrived. It's starting to dry, and it makes his fingers sticky and stiff at the same time. He had pressed on the wounds with all the strength he had, all the while maintaining a constant litany of "please don't die, come on Erin, stay with me, please hold on, baby please don't give up…" But now that he's stopped applying pressure, now that they have taken Erin away from him, he feels lost, useless.

As the adrenaline leaves his body, Jay's aches and pains slowly start to reclaim his attention. The right side of his chest is throbbing, as is his right hand, the pain worsening with every breath he takes, and there is a tight pressure surrounding his head, a dull ache that intensifies every time he shifts his gaze. Add to that the dizziness and nausea and he is pretty sure he has a concussion. No surprise there, after all he hit the floor headfirst when one of the perps took him down. A wave of exhaustion crashes over the young detective. Still facing the closed doors of the OR, Jay takes a step back and leans carefully against the wall, allowing it to take some of his weight without it being too obvious to his teammates. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, not caring that he's putting some of Erin's blood on his face, as he tries to swallow the sob that is crawling up his throat. In an attempt to regain some semblance of control, the ex-ranger takes a deep breath, before opening his eyes once more.

He doesn't see the fist coming. The blow lands neatly under his jaw, snapping his head back. Jay hits the ground, dazed, the whole room spinning. In the center of the maelstrom, there is the furious face of Hank Voight, and it's the only thing that's not moving with the rest of this damned carousel. When everything else is a blur, the hard lines of anger and accusation on his boss's face are the only things that Jay can clearly see. Voight grabs the collar of his leather jacket and pulls his head up. Through the ringing in his ears, the younger man can hear his sergeant yelling, "Where the fuck were you, Halstead?! She's your partner! Where the hell were you?!"

Still dazed from the punch, Jay struggles to understand what is going on, and it is pure instinct that makes him raise his left arm to deviate the second punch coming his way. The third one catches him under his left eye, and he feels the skin of his cheekbone split. As suddenly as it has begun, it is over.

The iron grip keeping him propped up is gone in an instant, and Jay falls back to the ground, panting heavily, tiny stars still dancing in front of his eyes. Distantly he can hear different voices, some yelling, some soft, some trying to sound appeasing, some annoyed.

"Calm down, Hank, calm down"… "Erin…"… "He didn't…"… "Let go of me!"… "This is a hospital for God's sake!"… "Get your hands off me…", "It's ok…"… "they're taking care of her"… "Leave me…"

"Hey kid, you alright?"

It takes Jay a few seconds to realize that this last voice is talking to him. Olinski's deep brown eyes have replaced Hank's face, and the older detective is holding his right hand out to Jay. Jay grabs it awkwardly with his left hand, the right one too painful and swollen to be of any use, and lets Olinsky pull him in a stranding position. As soon as he's vertical, the room starts spinning again. It's a good thing that there's a wall nearby, this way Olinsky doesn't have to hold all his weight by himself.

"Come on, sit down".

Olinsky guides him to a plastic chair, where Jay promptly sinks. A quick glance tells him Voight is not about to come at him again. Dawson is not restraining Hank anymore, but he still keeps a placating hand on Voight's shoulder as they confer with Ruzek. Atwater stands back awkwardly, unsure on whether he should join the small group, as Ruzek updates their boss on anything he knows, which is not much. Hank starts pacing, demanding to see a doctor, or anyone who can tell him more about Erin's condition. Jay knows it's no use, the surgeons have barely started working on her, nobody knows anything yet, except that she's been shot twice in the lower back, just below the vest. The extent of her internal injuries, which organ was or wasn't hit, and how much blood she's lost, it's all being assessed, behind those doors. It's frustrating as hell but right now all they can do is wait, and let the medical professionals work. He keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting Voight to think he's up for round two.

It annoys Jay a little that he let his boss got the drop on him. Concussion or not, he should know better than to let his guard down. The truth is, even though he wants to be angry at Voight for taking a shot at him, he can't. Not when he blames himself for not protecting Erin better. His jaw is now throbbing in sync with the rest of his bruises, and he relishes it. The physical pain distracts him from his guilt. He's Erin's partner, in fact he's more than that, and today, he failed her. If she dies… no, he doesn't allow his mind to go there. Erin is a fighter, she's going to live, she's going to wake up in a few hours and the first thing she'll do is ask to go home, because two pesky little bullets aren't going to keep Erin Lindsay down.

"Jay?" The way Olinsky says it, Jay knows it's not his first attempt at getting Jay's attention.

"Yeah? "

"Come on, let's get you looked at." Olinsky stands and makes a move to help Jay stand as well but the young detective jerks his arm away.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah. Ok. Let's get you checked out anyway."

"I'd rather stay here."

"I know." Olinsky's voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and his eyes don't leave Jay's as he reasons "It will only take a couple of minutes, you won't be away for long."

"I said I'm fine, Al." Jay tries crossing his arm in a petulant gesture, but the move is aborted by the pain in his right hand. He ends up draping his left arms across his ribs, the gesture looking more defensive than defiant.

"Jay…" Olinsky tries again, before being loudly interrupted by Dawson, "For God's sake Halstead, we know you're a tough guy, now do as he says!" Then in a quieter voice he adds, "In the off chance that we get some news about Lindsay, I promise I'll run into your exam room to pass on the news. Now come on, go with O, don't make this harder than it has to be."

Jay sends a quick glance in Voight's direction, force of habit making him look for his Sergeant's permission to leave. Their eyes briefly meet, but Voight turns away from him, pretending to be reading some kind of poster on the opposite wall, fists shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. Probably to keep them from Flying toward Jay's face again. Jay sees the expectant look on Olinsky and Dawson's faces, and he caves.

"Alright…"

He stands shakily, this time letting Alvin get a hold of his left arm to stabilize him. Jay's thankful that his brother is away, attending a congress in Boston. He doesn't like when his brother sees him hurt. There is still some naivety in the way Will envision Jay's job, and Jay has no intention on breaking his bubble.

As they enter the ER, Olinski starts walking toward doctor Manning but Jay stops him, nodding toward Dr. Choi before adding "he looks free, let's ask him." Alvin throws him a suspicious look but complies nevertheless. Jay's relieved. Nathalie is the second worst choice after Will, given that Jay has no doubt she would call his brother to update him on the situation if she knew he was hurt. He doesn't want to bother Will while he's away. Or maybe he doesn't want to be disappointed if Will doesn't care. He knows it's not fair to his brother to think that way, after all Will has really come around lately, but it has happened before, and this kind of stuff leaves its marks.

Fortunately Choi is not getting swamped with work right now, and he agrees easily to take a look at Jay. Alvin lets go of Jay's arm as he sits down on the gurney. As Choi begins to examine him, the older detective slips away to give Jay some privacy.

HANK - - -

Hank Voight wants to kill somebody. He wants to kill the asshole who put two bullet holes in his favorite detective, his surrogate daughter, his girl. He wants to kill his CI for not giving them sufficient information. He wants to kill Halstead, for not being there to protect her. He wants to kill himself, for not being there to protect her. He wants to kill Antonio, for being the voice of reason and telling him that shit happens, and it's nobody's fault except the asshole who shot the gun's, and Mouse is working on finding the guys responsible, and I'm going to get us some coffee do you want one? No he doesn't want a coffee. Hank wants to kill the fucking coffee.

He paces and paces in front of the OR's doors, and when he gets a call with a possible lead, Ruzek and Atwater are only too happy to jump on this lead and make a run for it.

"We'll get him, Sarge" Ruzek says as parting words.

Hank wants to say "keep him in one piece, he's mine", but all that gets out of his mouth is a guttural grunt worthy of a caveman. It doesn't matter though, because they're already gone.

When not five minutes later Mouse calls back with another address to check out, Antonio volunteers to go with Alvin. Voight looks around, but his old friend is nowhere to be seen. He vaguely remembers Alvin slipping away with a dazed Halstead. Right after he clocked him in the jaw. Voight split one of his knuckles on Halstead face, but he doesn't regret it. Halstead is Erin's partner, he's accountable for anything that happens to her. He warned them not to play house in his unit, warned them that sentimental distraction could have dire consequences, but did they listen to him? No. Even when they were not officially together, they were throwing each other these longing stares, flirting words thrown here and there, enough to build the core of a bad teenage romance novel. When trying to keep them apart only seemed to distract them more, Voight had finally caved, not willing to transfer any of the two excellent detectives to another unit. And look where that got them.

Hank slammed his hand on the vending machine in anger, startling Dawson in the process. It had been stupid of him to forgo his own rule, so, so stupid!

"Voight? I'm going to check out the address…"

"Wait" Hank grumbles, "you're not going alone. Nobody else gets shot tonight."

Eyes cast downward, Antonio nods slightly and waits as Voight gets his cell phone out.

"Al. Mouse found two leads. Ruzek and Atwater have already gone to check the first one. You Halstead and Dawson head out to the second address."

There's a small pause on the other end of the line before Alvin answers in a quiet voice, barely above a whisper, almost like he's trying not to be heard by someone nearby "Yeah ok, I'll meet Antonio at the car… But Hank, Halstead's not going anywhere tonight."

"What d'you mean he's not going anywhere "

"X-rays came back. He's got three broken ribs and a broken finger. He's getting the finger splinted right now. It's his gun hand too."

Hank deflates slightly, scratches his head. "Anything else?"

"Kid's got a concussion too, apparently… His doc says he doesn't need to go for a head CT, but they want to keep him in for observation. Way I see it, he'd be more of a liability than an asset in the field today anyway…"

Hank sighs. Sure, Halstead had seemed a little banged up, even before Hank added his own dose of violence, but it didn't look that bad. Damn it, they didn't even take the time to debrief what went down in the house, it's more than a little vague, and he has no idea how Halstead managed to break more bones in one night than in all the time he's been working in intelligence.

"All right. You go with Dawson, Halstead is benched."

As soon as he hears Olinski's affirmative answer, he cuts the call and goes to sit in one of the plastic chairs. Hank puts his head in his hands, and tries to hold on to his anger. He tries to stay angry, because he can't accept the alternative. He can't crumble and fall to the floor sobbing. He can't face the fact that maybe he'll loose another child, when the earth over Justin's coffin is still not dry. He can't accept that life would be so cruel to take every one he cares about away from him, not even leaving him Erin, the one he saved. So he grabs his anger with two hands and holds on to it with all his might.

AN: thank you for reading. More to come in a few days.