(no subject)
Title: Ahead of The Curve
Summary: She thought the four year prison sentence was almost impossible to handle. How will she handle things when he is released? ((Justin Voight/OC))
Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago PD or the song lyrics used in this chapter. I also do not own any Chicago Fire characters or references that may eventually be made in this story.
A/N: Admittingly, the majority of this chapter is a repeat of the first episode of Chicago PD. I’m trying to figure out if I should write it this way (pretty much word for word from the episode, with pieces of Justin/Rachel interjected) or just do bits and pieces of the episodes with some Justin/Rachel. Let me know which you guys would prefer in the comments or Private Message, please. ‘Erin’ - thanks for the review. I definitely plan on doing some of that in later chapters : )
“Honest to God, worst moment in recent memory.”
“You picked up a random woman at Molly’s when you were both piss drunk and yet, you are surprised that she doesn’t look half as good the next morning?”
“Well…….yeah, a little.”
She shook her head, not at all surprised by the conversation between Jay and Antonio. Hell, there were probably guys out there somewhere who had once told a story like that about her after a night of too much tequila and not enough regret. In a job like this, when stress was high and only getting higher, everyone needed an outlet. With everything he had seen in war and on the streets of Chi-town, she certainly wasn’t going to deny Halstead his only outlet. Olinsky apparently had other ideas as he walked past, thunking the younger officer on the back of the head.
“Are we here to work, or are we here to hear about how little game young gun here has?”
A few chuckles rippled through the ‘merry band of misfits’, as Sergeant Platt had dubbed them, before Voight began pinning photographs to the white board in front of them.
“Listen up, got a name on those dope deaths. It’s a dealer named ‘Rev’, up on south Emerald. We’re going to set up a controlled buy. Halstead, Clarke in the doorway. Do not go inside.”
“You got it, boss”, Rachel reassured, casting a quick glance to Jay, who nodded in confirmation. They moved to get their gear together, ready to get the show on the road - but Voight’s authoritative tone stopped them one more time.
“One more thing. We’ve been doing this for what? Two months? Now more than ever, we keep everything in-house. Understand? I don’t care how they run other departments or how you came up. This is Intelligence - my unit. You tell me the truth, so I can lie for you. And if you ever go over my head, it’ll be the last head you go over. Everybody goes home tonight.”
------------------------------------
The dealer’s apartment wasn’t terribly different from any other they had busted; faded brick exterior, yard space that looked like it hadn’t been maintained in many months, or even years, broken down caddy that was propped up on cement blocks on the side lot. Too many cases had been worked in places like this, pulling the bodies of kids who died far too soon out of dirty dumpsters, the needles still hanging from their arms. Rachel felt a bit of sympathy for them; it is next to impossible to pull yourself out of the pit when it is all you ever knew - but the longer she worked the streets, the more she saw people doing stupid things, the less hope she had for the future of the neighborhood.
“Rev! Open up!”
Halstead’s fist rapped against the hollow core door, over and over again, rattling the poorly secured portal in its frame. Neighbors peaked out of windows and around corners, wondering if this is going to be another bust or if it was just a disgruntled customer of a local dealer. Rachel tried to play the part as convincingly as she could, wrapped up on Jay, biting her fingernails to stubs, twitching like an addict that was itching for their next fix. “I’m going out on a limb here. Rev might not be home.”, she heard Antonio’s voice echo through the small earpiece Jin had given her. He was probably right, but this was the best lead they’d had on the case to date, and she knew that they couldn’t let it slip through their fingers again.
“C’mon man!”
The door opened just enough for a man to stick his face through. One look told Rachel that this wasn’t Rev - and that look was enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and pay attention. Voight had told her once when she was a rookie that her gut was going to be the most important tool she had in this job and to never ignore her when it told her something was up.
“What?”
“Yeah, uh….is…is Rev here?” Halstead asked, the undercurrent of unease not going unnoticed.
“No, so quit pounding on the door.”
The other man tried to swing the door shut, but Jay’s hand slapped down onto the exterior, keeping it open for a few more seconds.
“Hey man, my girl - she’s going into rehab tomorrow, wants to go out with a bang tonight. Rev usually hooks me up. You ever been to rehab, man? It sucks.”
His voice stuttered, but it was obviously having the desired effect on the man behind the door. Rolling her eyes to match Jay’s story, Rachel found herself glancing down. A suspicious red stain on the bottom of his pants confirmed her original suspicions - something was going on here, something much bigger than she and Halstead could handle during an undercover bust. They needed to get out of there and regroup with the unit. Jay moved to enter the apartment, but she caught his belt, jerking him back outside.
“We’ll just come back when Rev’s here.”
The look her partner shot her told her that he knew something was up, but that they needed to play it safe until they were out of ear and eye shot.
“Are you kiddin’ me? You’ve been up my ass for two hours about scorin’ some H!”
“Well, I changed my mind.”
“Ladies, am I right?”, Halstead tried to joke, as they headed down to meet up with Voight and the others.
---------------------
They had gathered in an alley behind the building, forming a bullpen of sorts.
“It looked like blood to me. And other than the fact that we don’t know this guy…”
“You don’t have to justify it. You got a bad hit, you got a bad hit. Let’s go in.”
“No,” Erin objected from her place in the ‘circle’. “Because maybe it looked like blood? That’s not probable cause to force an entry.”
“He could’ve been marinating a chicken and spilled barbecue sauce on his pants.”
The look on Hank’s face was one of surprise - surprise that the case fell so easily into their laps but more so that Dawson and Lindsay were so willing to just dump it all in favor of probable cause.
“We got three O.D.’s traced back to the heroin Rev’s movin’. You want to wait for another kid to die?”
“We’ll do a knock-and-talk.”, Olinsky piped up. “Whoever’s in control of the apartment gets all squirrely, we’ll take it from there.”
Voight called in for backup - Burgess and Atwater had been stationed close by, just in case - while the rest of the team got ready for battle. Part of Rachel hoped it went off without a hitch, but another part of her, one she typically tried to ignore in the interest of her own personal safety, wanted some action. It was a dangerous thing to want when she had a four year old little boy at home, but when she quit drinking and quit partying, she had to seek the same kind of high elsewhere. Hank and Antonio walked in front, with Rachel, Erin, Jay and Olinsky bringing up the rear.
“Rach, you…uh, you got a little something there in your hair.”
“It’s probably peanut butter. My kid decided he wanted to make his own breakfast this morning, and by the time I got him cleaned up, I didn’t really have time for a shower.”
“I remember those days.”, Alvin chuckled. His daughter was now well into her teenage years, but he had been helpful when she had parenting related questions.
“I remember one time when she was maybe four or five yea-“, his sentence was cut off as gunshots ricocheted around them, glass shattering as they connected with their targets.
‘Well’, she observed, ‘looks like you’ll be getting that action today after all.’
Summary: She thought the four year prison sentence was almost impossible to handle. How will she handle things when he is released? ((Justin Voight/OC))
Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago PD or the song lyrics used in this chapter. I also do not own any Chicago Fire characters or references that may eventually be made in this story.
A/N: Admittingly, the majority of this chapter is a repeat of the first episode of Chicago PD. I’m trying to figure out if I should write it this way (pretty much word for word from the episode, with pieces of Justin/Rachel interjected) or just do bits and pieces of the episodes with some Justin/Rachel. Let me know which you guys would prefer in the comments or Private Message, please. ‘Erin’ - thanks for the review. I definitely plan on doing some of that in later chapters : )
“Honest to God, worst moment in recent memory.”
“You picked up a random woman at Molly’s when you were both piss drunk and yet, you are surprised that she doesn’t look half as good the next morning?”
“Well…….yeah, a little.”
She shook her head, not at all surprised by the conversation between Jay and Antonio. Hell, there were probably guys out there somewhere who had once told a story like that about her after a night of too much tequila and not enough regret. In a job like this, when stress was high and only getting higher, everyone needed an outlet. With everything he had seen in war and on the streets of Chi-town, she certainly wasn’t going to deny Halstead his only outlet. Olinsky apparently had other ideas as he walked past, thunking the younger officer on the back of the head.
“Are we here to work, or are we here to hear about how little game young gun here has?”
A few chuckles rippled through the ‘merry band of misfits’, as Sergeant Platt had dubbed them, before Voight began pinning photographs to the white board in front of them.
“Listen up, got a name on those dope deaths. It’s a dealer named ‘Rev’, up on south Emerald. We’re going to set up a controlled buy. Halstead, Clarke in the doorway. Do not go inside.”
“You got it, boss”, Rachel reassured, casting a quick glance to Jay, who nodded in confirmation. They moved to get their gear together, ready to get the show on the road - but Voight’s authoritative tone stopped them one more time.
“One more thing. We’ve been doing this for what? Two months? Now more than ever, we keep everything in-house. Understand? I don’t care how they run other departments or how you came up. This is Intelligence - my unit. You tell me the truth, so I can lie for you. And if you ever go over my head, it’ll be the last head you go over. Everybody goes home tonight.”
------------------------------------
The dealer’s apartment wasn’t terribly different from any other they had busted; faded brick exterior, yard space that looked like it hadn’t been maintained in many months, or even years, broken down caddy that was propped up on cement blocks on the side lot. Too many cases had been worked in places like this, pulling the bodies of kids who died far too soon out of dirty dumpsters, the needles still hanging from their arms. Rachel felt a bit of sympathy for them; it is next to impossible to pull yourself out of the pit when it is all you ever knew - but the longer she worked the streets, the more she saw people doing stupid things, the less hope she had for the future of the neighborhood.
“Rev! Open up!”
Halstead’s fist rapped against the hollow core door, over and over again, rattling the poorly secured portal in its frame. Neighbors peaked out of windows and around corners, wondering if this is going to be another bust or if it was just a disgruntled customer of a local dealer. Rachel tried to play the part as convincingly as she could, wrapped up on Jay, biting her fingernails to stubs, twitching like an addict that was itching for their next fix. “I’m going out on a limb here. Rev might not be home.”, she heard Antonio’s voice echo through the small earpiece Jin had given her. He was probably right, but this was the best lead they’d had on the case to date, and she knew that they couldn’t let it slip through their fingers again.
“C’mon man!”
The door opened just enough for a man to stick his face through. One look told Rachel that this wasn’t Rev - and that look was enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and pay attention. Voight had told her once when she was a rookie that her gut was going to be the most important tool she had in this job and to never ignore her when it told her something was up.
“What?”
“Yeah, uh….is…is Rev here?” Halstead asked, the undercurrent of unease not going unnoticed.
“No, so quit pounding on the door.”
The other man tried to swing the door shut, but Jay’s hand slapped down onto the exterior, keeping it open for a few more seconds.
“Hey man, my girl - she’s going into rehab tomorrow, wants to go out with a bang tonight. Rev usually hooks me up. You ever been to rehab, man? It sucks.”
His voice stuttered, but it was obviously having the desired effect on the man behind the door. Rolling her eyes to match Jay’s story, Rachel found herself glancing down. A suspicious red stain on the bottom of his pants confirmed her original suspicions - something was going on here, something much bigger than she and Halstead could handle during an undercover bust. They needed to get out of there and regroup with the unit. Jay moved to enter the apartment, but she caught his belt, jerking him back outside.
“We’ll just come back when Rev’s here.”
The look her partner shot her told her that he knew something was up, but that they needed to play it safe until they were out of ear and eye shot.
“Are you kiddin’ me? You’ve been up my ass for two hours about scorin’ some H!”
“Well, I changed my mind.”
“Ladies, am I right?”, Halstead tried to joke, as they headed down to meet up with Voight and the others.
---------------------
They had gathered in an alley behind the building, forming a bullpen of sorts.
“It looked like blood to me. And other than the fact that we don’t know this guy…”
“You don’t have to justify it. You got a bad hit, you got a bad hit. Let’s go in.”
“No,” Erin objected from her place in the ‘circle’. “Because maybe it looked like blood? That’s not probable cause to force an entry.”
“He could’ve been marinating a chicken and spilled barbecue sauce on his pants.”
The look on Hank’s face was one of surprise - surprise that the case fell so easily into their laps but more so that Dawson and Lindsay were so willing to just dump it all in favor of probable cause.
“We got three O.D.’s traced back to the heroin Rev’s movin’. You want to wait for another kid to die?”
“We’ll do a knock-and-talk.”, Olinsky piped up. “Whoever’s in control of the apartment gets all squirrely, we’ll take it from there.”
Voight called in for backup - Burgess and Atwater had been stationed close by, just in case - while the rest of the team got ready for battle. Part of Rachel hoped it went off without a hitch, but another part of her, one she typically tried to ignore in the interest of her own personal safety, wanted some action. It was a dangerous thing to want when she had a four year old little boy at home, but when she quit drinking and quit partying, she had to seek the same kind of high elsewhere. Hank and Antonio walked in front, with Rachel, Erin, Jay and Olinsky bringing up the rear.
“Rach, you…uh, you got a little something there in your hair.”
“It’s probably peanut butter. My kid decided he wanted to make his own breakfast this morning, and by the time I got him cleaned up, I didn’t really have time for a shower.”
“I remember those days.”, Alvin chuckled. His daughter was now well into her teenage years, but he had been helpful when she had parenting related questions.
“I remember one time when she was maybe four or five yea-“, his sentence was cut off as gunshots ricocheted around them, glass shattering as they connected with their targets.
‘Well’, she observed, ‘looks like you’ll be getting that action today after all.’