Protect Her

The Price We Pay

"Justin, What happened?" Ana demanded, terrified for her son.

Justin doesn't answer or even look at her.

"Justin, Sweetheart, look at me." She commanded. "What happened?"

"It was- it was something stupid." He stuttered. "I just got into a fight outside of McIntyre's with this- I broke this guy's nose, right?" Justin asked, more to himself than his mother.

Ana knew her son was lying, but decided to take this one step at a time. She glanced at his bloodied, shaking hands.

"Your hands aren't bruised. What did you hit him with?" Ana questioned.

"I just- I cracked him with- I got him with an elbow real good." Justin stuttered.

"Sweetheart, don't lie to me. I know you. You are my son after all. You wouldn't be this shaken up over a bar fight." She pointed out.

"Hey, listen, I shouldn't have come to see you. It was a mistake." Justin realized.

"Don't shut me out." Ana pleaded.

"It's just like I said, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you in on this, okay? I don't even know what I was thinking." He scolded himself.

"Justin!" Ana cried as her son got back in his car and drove away.

*Next Morning: District 21: Bullpen*

Ana and Hank walked in, past the team, and over to their office. Hank shut the door and turned to his wife. He put two fingers under her chin, and tilted her head up towards him.

"Hey. I know something's bugging you. You were way too quiet last night. You know you can tell me anything." Hank reminded her.

"I know, it just, I was trying to figure out how to tell you." Ana explained.

"Tell me what?" Hank asked, softly, as Ana sighs and sits on the couch.

"Henry, I'm worried about Justin. Yesterday at the airport, after Fin and Amanda left, Justin called me. He sounded panicked, asked me were I was, and I told him. He stepped out of his car and his hands were covered in blood. He claimed it was from a bar fight, but, there was way too much and he was way too frightened. He also said that whatever it was he did, he didn't want to do it." Ana recalled, tearing up a bit.

"We'll figure it out." Hank assured, rubbing her back, worried as hell now about their son. "As much as I hate to say it, we have a case to worry about as well."

Ana nodded and regained her composure. The couple walked out of their office and over to the whiteboard. Hank taped a picture to it, and wrote a name above the photo.

"All right, we got a new case. This is Frank Fitori, caught napping in a ditch by the marsh where he was dumped. He's had his own little racket on the south side for years." He informed.

"He swims with some big fish." Antonio added.

"Swam." Jay corrected.

"Swam." Antonio repeated, giving Jay a questioning look.

"Well-" Jay trailed off, gesturing to the board in reminder that the guy is now dead.

"Alright, Halstead and I will check out the murder site." Erin offered.

"Great idea. Why don't you and Jay do that?" Ana agreed.

Everyone, sans Hank, turned to the older woman in worry. She never referred to him as just Jay. It was always Bluejay.

"Everyone else, go through the confidential files on Taylor Street, Bridgeport, Chinatown, and Melrose crews. Let's see who's running what nowadays." Hank ordered.