I've Got You - A Halstead & Platt Story

"I need you to open your eyes..."

Platt, Halstead and Officer Miller from the K-9 unit were sitting in the green room of Windy City Mornings, waiting for their interview segment with the TV show's host. Platt was there to represent the officers and her duty of running the whole district. Jay was there representing Intelligence. It was a pretty nice, borderline fancy, green room as far as green rooms were concerned.

There was fruit and pastries for them to munch on while they waited. Not that any of them could really eat with the nerves coursing through their bodies. Actually, Platt and Halstead couldn't eat because they didn't want to be there but that's okay, Miller was eating enough for the three of them. He might be one of those people who eat when nervous or he was just really hungry or he likes the fancy pastries and wants to get his fill of the special treat.

Miller was excited about going on the show but who invites a K-9 officer and doesn't let them bring their dog? Jay thought it was about the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. But then, this whole situation was about the stupidest thing he'd ever had to partake in. He didn't want to be there.

In fact, when they drew straws, Olinski got the short straw. So why was Jay sitting there? He was sitting there because the pretentious producer found out that he had been a Ranger in Afghanistan and thought that would be a "fantastic angle" for the Intelligence Unit's representative - Army Ranger turned cop - who does undercover operations! - which in Jay's opinion just upped the stupidity factor of this whole situation since he would be sitting behind a screen and they would alter his voice. But then the Ivory Tower wasn't known for their smarts, their abundant stupidity buried any collective IQ in bullshit.

The only thing making this whole situation bearable for Jay was watching Platt's reactions to everything. Disgust would probably be the best word to describe her attitude but even that seemed like an understatement. So Jay kept an eye on Platt. The zingers that normally would have been thrown at Jay were going to Miller. She'd been busting him on anything and everything...how much he was eating, his pacing - 'pacing isn't going to burn the calories you're eating so why don't you just sit on the couch and get fat' - his lack of dog and her thoughts that 'maybe they'll have someone dressed up in a dog suit that the host wouldn't be allergic to.'

Miller actually thought she was serious with that one, he was worried that the "dog" wouldn't know the commands and would make the K-9 unit look stupid. Jay's coffee almost came out his nose on that one. So, yes, Platt was entertaining. Her grumbling and commentary, 'pathetic excuse for entertainment,' of the live show that was playing out on the green room TV was his saving grace.

It was when Miller decided to go find the producer to see if there actually WAS going to be a fake dog, that the damn situation went from bad to worse - again an understatement. Platt was sitting in the only comfy chair in the room and Jay decided to finally break down and grab another cup of coffee. He was standing by the table when the automated espresso machine started to hiss. Cheap shit in a fancy room.

When the hiss turned into a low whine, he realized that the sound was actually coming from behind the wall. When the noise graduated into an ear piercing screech, Jay and Platt both said "what the hell" at the same time. That was when the explosion came. Jay was lifted off the ground like a puppet on invisible strings and slammed into the column in the middle of the room - followed by the table and then chunks of the wall. He hit the wall hard enough to bust though the drywall and might have still been conscious when the table and debris hit him. But who knows, he wasn't conscious now.

AT THE DISTRICT

Voight slammed his phone down and stormed out of his office, drawing all eyes to him. "We gotta roll. There was an explosion at the studio where Halstead and Platt are doing that show." There was a stunned silence as the news was digested and then a flurry of movement as everyone jumped up from their desks and headed for the roll up, in a hail of 'fuck's!' 'What the hell's! and 'Oh my God's.' Everyone but Erin, who was frozen to the spot. Hank put a hand gently on her shoulder, "Come on kid. We don't know anything yet. I'm sure he's okay." Still stunned, Erin, grabbed her jacket and followed him out of the bullpen.