Hi everyone! It's been a while, but I had some ideas that I wanted to explore here. The subject matter includes sexual assault and child abuse and may not be for everyone - please keep that in mind before reading! If rape/recovery is not your thing, I suggest skipping this one!

This will be multiple chapters, but I can't promise it will be updated with any sort of regularity - but I thought I'd try to put it out there! Hope you enjoy!

-o-o-

It's been a quiet morning, and Jay is grateful. The past two weeks have been relentless - case after case after case, and he's feeling the fatigue. His back and neck are aching, his temples pulsing with a low grade headache that won't seem to go away.

He glances at the clock on his computer - not even 1:00. He sighs, clicking over to - the White Sox have a 1:05 start, and he'd give anything to be there instead of here. His eyes dart over to Erin. She's hunched over her desk, studiously hand-writing a report, and he can't help but grin at her work ethic.

He clicks out of the pregame report and back into the CI update he's supposed to be typing up, hoping that the rest of the day will be this quiet. All he wants is to clock out at 5:00 for once. He's envisioning eating Thai takeout in bed, Erin curled up beside him.

Maybe they'll even skip the Thai food.

He'd spotted a bag from Victoria's Secret on the top shelf of the closet earlier that week, right before they'd been called in on yet another overdose. He desperately wants to know what's in it.

That's what he's thinking about - sex - when Voight slams the phone down and emerges from his office, stopping warily in the doorway. They're the only two in the bullpen - the rest of the team has gone to pick up lunch - and Jay watches as Voight glances at Erin, then turns to look at him. His expression is grave, and Jay's heart sinks. Shit.

"Got a call from Med," Voight says, his voice gravelly and uncertain. "Looks like we've got a missing kid. Five-years-old."

Erin is already out of her chair and pulling on her coat, the news of a missing child enough to spur her into action. "What happened?" she asks, packing up her files and holstering her gun.

Voight glances at Jay again, his face indecipherable. It makes his heart beat just a tick faster.

"The mother and her boyfriend OD'd," Voight says evenly. "Little girl called 911 from a cell, but she was gone when the ambo got there."

Erin freezes. Her face drains of all color.

"Okay," she says, and turns on her heel. She's down the stairs before Voight or Jay can say another word.

Voight gives Jay a look so full of meaning it makes Jay shudder. He nods, then jogs down the stairs after his partner.

-o-o-

"Andy?" Melanie Carrens moans, shifting uncomfortably in the hospital bed. Her eyes are barely open, but Erin isn't waiting another second. "Andy, where's-where's Andy? Andy?"

"He's dead," Erin bites, arms crossed, her entire body radiating fury.

Jay watches the exchange, hovering just behind her, close enough to reel her in if he needs to.

She hadn't said a word to him in the car. Her face had been so far away and fragile and carefully composed that he hadn't even tried to get through to her, afraid of shattering her control. He'd sat in silence, watching out of the corner of his eye as she darted in and out of traffic and made it to Med in record time.

"Oh, no, oh, Andy," Melanie sobs. She's dirty and thin and sick, and despite the situation, Jay can't help feeling for her just the tiniest bit.

"Yeah," Erin says, moving closer to Melanie, a predator circling her prey. "Yeah, you and your boyfriend OD'd on the kitchen floor while your five-year-old daughter watched. She called 911, saved your life, and now she's gone."

"Andy," the woman moans. Tears streak down her cheeks, and she curls into a ball, keening.

Erin attacks, grabbing Melanie's hands roughly and pulling them away from her face.

"Maddie is missing," she spits, clutching Melanie's fingers with an iron grip. Jay steps a little closer, ready to intervene. "Your daughter saved your worthless life, and now she's missing."

"You're hurting me!" Melanie cries out, trying to fight Erin off.

"Your daughter is missing!" Erin repeats, volume elevating. "And you don't even care! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Get off me!"

For a second, Jay worries that Erin might actually strangle Melanie. "Okay," he says, carefully pulling Erin back. He squeezes her arm, hoping to provide some sort of comfort. "Okay. Melanie, Maddie called 911, but when the paramedics got there, she wasn't in the apartment. Do you know where she might have gone?"

"No," Melanie says, curling into a ball again. "I don't know, I don't know. Are you sure Andy's dead?"

Jay tightens his grip on Erin's biceps before she can lunge forward again. She's strong, but he's got a good fifty pounds on her - and he uses all of it to hold her back.

"He's dead," Jay assures Melanie. "I'm sorry, but we really need to focus on Maddie now. Is there anyone who might have come to get her? Or anyone she could have gone to? Her father, or an aunt or uncle, or grandparent maybe?"

"I don't know," Melanie sobs. "I don't know where she'd go. Oh, God, Andy."

Erin rips her arm out of Jay's grasp and stalks out of the room.

-o-o-

He finds her in the parking lot, a few feet away from their car. She's hunched over, her breathing harsh and unsteady. But she doesn't seem to be injured, and nothing around her is broken, so he doesn't say anything. He leans against the hood of the 300, giving her a minute.

"You okay?" he says finally, when she stands up and turns away from him.

"Fine," she snaps, in a tone that tells him she is anything but. "Let's get over to her school. Maybe someone there knows something."

"Erin," he says softly. Her face is so hard, so brittle, and he just wants to give her a hug, to make her feel better for a millisecond, anything.

But she shakes him off. "We're wasting time," she says. She climbs into the driver's seat without another word.

-o-o-

The entire squad watches anxiously as Erin paces back and forth, back and forth, wearing a trough in the floor of the bullpen. They've been searching all day, and there's no sign of Maddie. They've checked her school, and the neighbors, and surrounding bodegas and restaurants and drugstores, but no one has seen her.

And the agony in Erin's eyes has become more than Jay can handle.

"I've got something!" Mouse cries, and Erin is at his desk in a heartbeat, the rest of the team close behind. "Most of the security cams in that neighborhood are down, but I got a working traffic cam half a block away."

He fast-forwards through some footage, until they get to the time of the 911 call. Less than two minutes after the call had disconnected, a tall white man in a black baseball cap walks down the street. In his arms is a little girl, kicking and pushing at him.

Erin gasps.

"Dammit," Antonio mutters, clenching his fists. He's been upset all day too - this case is taking a toll on all of them.

"Can we see where he takes her?" Voight asks through clenched teeth.

Mouse pounds at his keyboard, pulling up more traffic cam footage, but there's no sign of the two again.

"Send that screengrab to me," Ruzek says, hustling back to his computer. "I'll run it through facial recognition."

Erin takes a step away from the group and leans against the wall, closing her eyes tightly. Jay slides back beside her, leans close enough to whisper in her ear. "We're gonna find her."

Erin takes a shaky breath, her eyes avoiding his. "You don't know that," she says hoarsely.

"She has you fighting for her," he murmurs. He turns his body towards her, shielding her from the others. "You have to believe it will be okay."

She leans just slightly into him. He glances over his shoulder. Only Voight is looking at them, the rest of the team intently focused on Ruzek's computer. He turns back to Erin and pulls her into his arms, just for a second. She needs this.

-o-o-

At 4:00 in the morning, the team is still working. Everyone has been on the phone pretty much continuously since facial recognition failed to spit out a match. Jay has spoken with every CI he has. He and Erin have gone out three times and talked to different informants - one thought he recognized the guy in the traffic cam photo, another swore she'd seen the little girl, but no one has been able to locate her.

They've gotten nowhere, and Maddie has been missing for almost 18 hours.

"Everyone go home," Voight finally announces, and Jay almost collapses with relief. He's on his sixth cup of coffee, and his eyes have started to blur. "Patrol will keep going through the tipline and let me know if they have anything."

No one protests. The team quietly files out, except for Erin, who gives no indication of having heard the order.

"Get her out of here," Voight says quietly to Jay. "Make sure she sleeps."

Jay nods. Easier said than done.

"You should go," Erin says, when he approaches her quietly. "I'm too wired to sleep. I'm gonna keep going through traffic cams."

"Come on," Jay says, ignoring that. "Voight's orders."

"I'm good here."

"Erin," Jay sighs. He knows he's treating her like a stubborn second-grader, but he's not sure what else to do. "Please, don't do this."

For a second he thinks she might fight him, but she deflates, her shoulders collapsing inward. "Jay, she's all alone out there," she whispers.

His heart breaks, but he stands his ground. "I know," he says, crowding closer into her space. "But there's a whole team of officers downstairs combing through tips, and you're no good to her if you're exhausted."

Erin glances down at the photo of Maddie on her desk, the photo that's plastered all over the squad room and all over the local news. The little girl isn't smiling - she looks sad and haunted, and much too old for her five years.

Jay has never seen a childhood photo of Erin, but he can't help but wonder if she looked the same. If she was a tiny, way-too-skinny kid with too much responsibility and too many worries and no one to take care of her. It makes him ache.

"I just," she starts. "This girl-"

"I know," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He guides her out of her chair and toward the steps. "We're gonna figure it out."

-o-o-

Erin falls asleep right away - Jay makes sure of it. But it feels like only minutes later when she wakes up screaming, her limbs flailing, her fist catching him in the stomach.

"What?" he gasps, fumbling in the darkness. "Erin?"

"Sorry," she chokes, tears glistening on her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

She's out of the bed before he can stop her.

When he finally recovers his bearings and follows her out of the bedroom, she's at the kitchen island pouring a shot of vodka with shaking hands. She downs it before he can process the scene. Fear floods his stomach, his throat. "Erin," he says desperately.

She puts down the bottle, sets the glass in the sink. "Sorry," she says, her voice steadier, and that scares him more. "I'm fine. I just - bad dream."

"Please," he whispers, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. She's stiff, but she doesn't pull away. "Talk to me. Let me be there for you."

Erin leans into him, and he wraps his arms around her. She's quiet for a moment, resting her forehead against his bare chest. "Bunny OD'd seven times," she finally says into his t-shirt. "The first time...I was six. I don't remember much, just...finding her on the bathroom floor with a needle in her arm, and not being able to wake her up. I called 911, and they saved her, but then I ended up in a group home for two months."

She pulls away from him, wraps her own arms around herself. "That's when I learned not to call anyone," she says, and he can see that scared little girl in her face.

Jay doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to comfort her, how to make her feel better and be there for her, how to suppress the anger and horror that bubbles up in him every time she offers one of these tiny confessions.

She shuts down before he can figure it out, the wall coming down in front of her eyes so clearly it makes him shiver.

"It's in the past," she says, and he thinks she might be trying to convince herself of that. "Let's go back to bed. We should get back to the district in a couple hours."

He trails her back to the bedroom. He can't help but feel like the worst is yet to come.

-o-o-

He's not wrong.

Jay follows Erin into the bullpen just a few hours later, his whole body tingling with awareness and anxiety. Or maybe exhaustion - he managed maybe three hours of sleep last night. He's certain Erin got even less.

Voight and Antonio are already at the whiteboard, organizing the information that had come in through the tipline in their absence. Voight nods at them, his eyes lingering on Erin - she's got her game face on, tough and determined, but it can't hide the weariness and trauma.

"What've you got?" Erin says, her voice hoarser than normal.

Antonio and Voight exchange glances. Jay swallows a wave of nausea - something's going on, and whatever it is, he just knows it's going to make this already horrible situation worse.

Antonio starts walking them through the latest developments. Jay can barely focus on what he's saying, on the case - on his job. He's too fixated on the pain in Erin's eyes, on the way her hands are shaking, on the rigid way she's holding herself up.

He startles when Voight's voice murmurs in his ear, "My office."

-o-o-

He closes the door behind him, casting one last worried look into the bullpen. Erin and Antonio are still at the whiteboard - she doesn't even seem to notice that he's left.

When he turns back to Voight, his boss looks grim. "How's she doing?" he asks.

Jay considers the question, considers the circumstances. Erin's still barely speaking to Voight. He hasn't pushed on why, hasn't even brought it up. But he's seen it - the way she avoids him at the district, the way she's stopped spending time with him outside of it.

And so it feels like a betrayal to hide in this office, talking about Erin behind her back. But he's so worried about her, so frightened of what he saw in her eyes in Melanie Carren's hospital room, of the way she downed that vodka at 5:00 in the morning, that he relents. Voight knows Erin better than anyone - and he knows that Voight would also die to protect her.

"I don't think she slept much," he says quietly. "She woke up screaming pretty quickly." He swallows hard. "She, uh - she told me about Bunny OD'ing on the bathroom floor when she was six."

He doesn't mention the vodka, doesn't mention that it was alcohol that calmed her down, not him.

Voight nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Look," he says, then stops, collects his thoughts. "She's, uh, she's still angry at me," he says finally. "And I deserve it, I know that. But...she's all I've got left."

"I know," Jay says, when he doesn't continue. "She's - she loves you," he says. "She'll get over it."

Even though he isn't sure she will. But he knows that Erin cares too much about Voight to cut him out forever.

"That's not…" Voight sighs, shaking his head. "Look, I just wanted to make sure that you keep me in the loop, all right? Because regardless of what's happened, she's…"

He can't seem to continue, but Jay understands anyway. He nods. "She'll be okay," he says, although he isn't totally sure. "I've got her back. Always. I promise you that."

Voight nods. "We got some intel a couple hours ago," he says reluctantly. He looks out his window towards the bullpen, and Jay follows his gaze. Erin is talking heatedly with Antonio, waving a file in her hand.

Shit.

"What?" Jay says, his voice full of a dread he can't seem to control.

"Photos of Maddie were posted on a child trafficking site," Voight says, and Jay turns back towards Erin, nausea flooding his throat. "Some explicit photos. It looks like-"

"What?" Jay demands, when Voight doesn't continue. "Looks like what?"

"It looks like whoever snatched her is trying to sell her," Voight finally finishes.

Jay can literally feel the color drain out of his face.

-o-o-

Erin's hanging up the phone as he stumbles out to her desk, her face set with a frightening kind of determination. "Okay, I talked to Sergeant Benson, and she's got her contact at NICMIC searching for patterns. It's like a weird series of internet blackholes, but she thinks we should be able to locate the bidding site."

Jay nods, a little disturbed by the look in her eyes. He glances at Antonio, who's hovering over her, but his teammate looks just as single-minded.

He's not totally sure what she's talking about, but he forces himself to focus. "So, what's the plan once we locate the site?" Jay asks.

Erin and Antonio exchange glances, and it makes Jay nervous. "We send in a buyer," Antonio says.

"A buyer," Jay repeats dumbly.

"I'm gonna go in," Erin says, not even looking at him. "We'll make a bid - say I'm a kiddy porn producer looking for kids."

Jay lets this sink in slowly. "Why would they buy that?" he asks.

"Mouse is setting up a history right now," she says. "Fake sites, arrest record, everything."

"For you," Jay says dumbly.

"Yes, for me," Erin says, like he's an idiot.

He doesn't like it. Not at all. It makes complete sense, but something about it is sitting wrong in his stomach.

"Why don't we do it together?" he says.

Erin looks to Antonio and he shrugs. "Can't hurt," he says. "You sure about this?"

Jay doesn't understand the question. Sure about having his partner's back? Damn right he is.

"Yeah," he says. Antonio nods, then heads over to Mouse, busily working at his desk.

"How you feeling?" he asks quietly, once they're alone.

Erin glances up at him. Her eyes are bloodshot, with thick dark circles under them. But they're also alive with hope and progress and possibility, and he's not sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

"I'm good," she says, giving him a tiny smile before turning back to her computer. When he doesn't move, she turns back to him. "I promise," she says. "It's all gonna be fine."

She pats his hand, rubbing her thumb tenderly against the knuckle.

"It's gonna be fine," she says again.

-o-o-

Jay watches from his desk as Erin paces back and forth, up and down and up and down and up and down the bullpen. Every time she passes Mouse's computer, she steals a glance at it.

"Siddown, Lindsay," Antonio finally grumbles.

She ignores him. "What if they don't accept it?" she worries.

"Then we up the bid," Antonio tells her.

"What if they see through that?" she continues, heading for the board, eyes scanning the information laid out there. "What if they make that we're cops and shut the whole thing down and then we lose any trace of her?"

"Erin…" Olinsky sighs.

"We don't have a back-up plan," she points out. "And if they go with another buyer, then Maddie gets farther away and it gets harder to trace her. We need-"

"They replied!" Mouse shouts, and the entire team runs to his desk.

Jay hovers over Mouse's shoulder, but Ruzek reads the message out loud.

"10:00 AM at Nikita's on Cormack. Cash in a suitcase, new twenties. The chick comes alone."

The last sentence makes Jay's blood run cold. "No," he says, looking around among his colleagues for agreement. "No way. She's not going in alone."

But Erin is looking at Voight, and he's nodding. "I'll call the ivory tower, get the cash," he says.

"This is crazy!" Jay protests. "Why would they want her alone?!"

"Jay," Erin says gently. "It'll be fine."

"Come on, Sarge," Jay says, ignoring her. It feels terrible, steamrolling her like this, but he'll do anything to keep her safe, and something about the whole situation has his hair standing on end. "We bid as partners, and now they're asking for just her? You don't see anything weird about that?"

"I do," Voight says. "But it could just be a way to control the situation. We'll have her on comms, and we'll all be right outside."

He glances at Erin. Her face is a mixture of anger and compassion, and it twists his insides. He turns and strides toward the locker room.

-o-o-

Jay takes way longer than necessary to close the apartment door behind him. He can feel her watching him, but he can't seem to turn around and face her.

"Jay," she says finally, her voice low and soothing and sad. "Jay, come on."

He takes a shaky breath, makes himself turn around. She's standing just inches away, her eyes searching his. Her cold palm slides up to press against his cheek, and he lets his eyes slide shut.

"This is what we do," she says quietly, and he knows she's right. "I need to do this."

"I know," he says, reaching to pull her into his arms. "I'm just worried."

She cuddles into his chest. "You don't need to be," she promises. "It's just an ordinary operation. That's it. I need you to trust me."

His grip tightens, just a little bit. He trusts Erin implicitly, but something about the plan doesn't feel ordinary. They're sending Erin into what feels like a lion's den, without back-up, and he can't seem to shake the nauseous feeling he's had since they caught the case.

The horrible, foreboding certainty that something bad is going to happen.

"I trust you," he murmurs, kissing her hair. "Of course I trust you."

"Jay," she says, voice small. "Look, I know…"

She pulls away just a little bit, her fingers dancing on his chest. "This case has been hard," she says finally, avoiding his eyes. "I know - I know I haven't really talked to you about that, and...I'm trying. I am. But...she reminds me of me."

He knows. And that's what scares him the most.

"I just need you to be careful," he pleads. "Just - I know how this feels, and I know you want to help this little girl. But please just promise me that you'll be careful. That you won't..."

She nods. Offers him a small smile. "I will," she says. She leans up to touch her lips to his. "You know I love you, right?"

He threads his fingers through her hair so she can't pull away. "You know I love you too?"

-o-o-

Jay can't seem to stop his leg from bouncing up and down. He knows it's driving Antonio and Ruzek crazy, but it's as if the limb has a life of its own.

"She's inside." Olinsky's words echo through his comms link, and Jay takes a deep breath.

"You Carver?" her gravelly voice fills his ear. He can't hear a response, but she continues. "Alexa DeBruin."

There's a long moment of anxious silence before he hears a smooth, low whistle.

Jay curls his fingers into a fist. "Settle," Ruzek murmurs.

For some reason, Jay can't. He's been in this position countless times - listening from a van just a few feet away as his partner works her undercover magic. She's fine, he knows. She's the most competent cop he's ever worked with, and he has one hundred percent confidence in her ability to handle herself, to handle this situation.

But his palms are sweating, and his heart is pounding, and he can't stop fidgeting in his seat. "She's a cutie," Erin is saying in his ear, and his stomach tightens. "She take direction well?"

"Nah," he hears, the voice not nearly distant enough. He wonders how close this guy is standing to Erin. "She's a fighter that one. But don't worry, we've been workin' on her."

Jay's stomach turns. Antonio lets out a harsh breath.

"I like to break 'em myself," Erin tells him, and he knows how much it must have cost her to say that.

"Ball-buster, huh?" The voice has gotten closer and clearer. "I like that."

Jay digs his nails into his palm. He can feel the guys sending anxious looks his way. He ignores them. Focuses.

"I don't mix business and pleasure," Erin says, and he can practically feel her gritting her teeth.

"You okay?" Mouse murmurs from beside him.

Jay dismisses him with a quick headshake. He can't focus anywhere else right now.

"I only mix business with pleasure," their target says, and he can hear the leer in the guy's voice. It's right in Erin's comm link, and he knows - knows - this guy is touching her.

"Get your hands off of me," she says calmly, and Jay sits up straighter, ready to spring into action.

"You want the kid or not?" the asshole's voice says. Over the radio, he can hear Erin gasp.

Jay springs to his feet, his hand automatically going to his gun. He looks to Voight, who shakes his head angrily, but holds up a hand at Jay. "Not yet," his boss says. "Give her a minute."

"I'm here to make a deal," Erin says coldly. "I got the cash, but I'll take it and go somewhere they respect me."

"You want to make a deal with me, you play by my rules," the voice says, and it's suddenly much harsher.

"What do you want?" her voice drifts in again, and Jay can hear the fear. "Let go of me!"

She no longer sounds like she's playing a character, and Jay's heart leaps into his throat. He's on the edge of his seat, ready to bolt out of the van.

"No!" she screams. She still hasn't given the distress signal, but Jay's had enough.

"Come on!" he growls.

"What the fuck is this?" their target's voice says angrily, and the whole van freezes.

"You want the suitcase?" she cries, and there it is. Before Jay can react, the comm link goes dead.

-o-o-

The team bursts into the club within seconds, but they're already too late.

The main room is empty - only a lone bartender taking inventory. He looks up in alarm when seven heavily armed cops come flying through the front door, and automatically raises his hands.

"Where are they?" Jay barks at him, his gun hovering dangerously close to the man's face.

"Wh-who?" the guy stammers, backing up into the shelves of liquor on the wall. A bottle of Scotch drops from high up, shatters on the wooden floor.

"This woman," Olinsky says calmly, holding out his phone. "She was just in here meeting with a few men."

"They - they were in the back, they went to the back room!" the bartender says, panicked, but Atwater and Ruzek are already returning from their sweep of the club. Alone.

"All clear," Ruzek shouts. "There's no one back there."

"Who were those guys?" Voight demands.

"I don't know," their witness promises. He lets out a high-pitched squeal when Voight presses his gun to his temple.

"Who were those guys?" Voight repeats, calmly and evenly. "I'm not gonna ask you again."

"Okay!" the bartender says. Begs. "They work out of the back room sometimes. I don't know what they do, I swear! They pay me some cash, and they have - meetings or something. I don't know!"

"What are their names?" Voight growls.

"I don't know. I swear! I swear! Please! I don't know!"

Voight stares the kid down for several long seconds before lowering his gun. The kid nearly collapses to the floor with relief.

Jay lowers his own weapon, terror setting in. The club is clear. She's not here.

So where is she?

-o-o-

Jay and Voight hover over the still-terrified bartender as he rewinds the security footage from the camera behind the bar. The kid is babbling away, trying to explain what he'd done and what he knows (which is nothing), but Jay's not listening.

They couldn't have killed her. Otherwise they'd have found her body in that creepy back room. So she has to be alive.

She has to be.

'Here!" the stupid kid says. "I got it! Here!"

Jay shoves him out of the way. The grainy black and white footage on the computer shows the back door swinging open, and a big tough guy - Latino or white, maybe, it's hard to tell - pushing his way out. He holds it open for a tall white guy in a baseball cap - who could be the perp who snatched Maddie. Carver.

Carver's followed by another big, hulking bodyguard. This one's got Erin draped upside down over his shoulder.

Jay gasps. She's not moving, her arms dangling limply. He can't see much - can't tell if she's injured or conscious - but he's seen enough.

The group clears the security camera's frame, and that's it. Jay stares at the computer for several minutes, but nothing else happens.

Voight's hand grips his shoulder, in comfort, anger, determination - it's hard to tell. "Let's get back," his boss says roughly.

Shaking, Jay follows him out into the sunlight.

-o-o-