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Kelly’s heart raced as he sprinted up the stairs to his apartment. It had already been a long day — one of the longest of his life. He feared that it was about to also become the worst. He was just dropping Gabby Dawson off at home when her brother called him with terrifying news: Matt’s friend Katya was dead, and Jack Nesbitt was in the wind. And apparently, so was Matt.

He found their front door ajar, like someone had gone through without making sure it latched.

“Please,” he whispered, praying he wasn’t about to find what he feared. “Please, please, please.”

Pushing the door open and turning on the light, he called out into the apartment. “Matt?”

He didn’t hear a response, but after a moment, he realized the exhaust fan in the bathroom was on. He rushed to the bathroom door, nearly tripping over a lamp on the living room floor.

“Matt!” he called again, momentarily relieved to find the door unlocked. Opening it, his heart dropped out of his chest at the sight of his angel, sprawled facedown in a pool of vomit between the toilet and the tub.

“Matt,” he said urgently, rolling him onto his left side and feeling for a pulse. “Matt, baby, can you hear me?

Matt!”

His own heart started beating again when he found Matt’s pulse. His boyfriend’s chest was slowly rising and falling, and Kelly didn’t hear any wheezing. His lips were blue underneath the vomit, though, and his skin was pale and clammy. And he wasn’t waking up.

“MATT!” Kelly yelled, leaning in next to his ear while giving his shoulder a firm shake. He then tried a sternal rub, earning only a slight grimace and almost imperceptible grunt for his trouble. “Come on, angel.

Fuck.”

He checked Matt over, looking for any injuries – or, god forbid, a bullet wound. When he found none, his heart settled in his chest.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket, dialing 911 with one hand while checking his airway with the other. His breath reeked of liquor, tobacco, and stomach acid, a combination now coating Kelly’s jeans as well as Matt’s face. Kelly couldn’t see any remaining vomit in his mouth or throat, but he lifted his chin to keep his airway clear just in case.

“911, what’s your location?”

Kelly quickly rattled off their address, then launched into an explanation without waiting for the next question. “We’re at 1303 W. California Avenue, apartment 3C. I need an ambulance. My roommate, Matthew Casey, is passed out and responsive to painful stimuli only. There’s vomit on the floor. I think it’s alcohol poisoning. He’s 36, generally healthy but with a history of post-concussion syndrome.”

“Okay, an ambulance is on the way. Is he breathing?”

“Yes,” Kelly confirmed, holding his hand about an inch from Matt’s mouth and nose to feel his breath. “But he’s really pale, and his lips are blue.”

“Position him on his left side, with his chin lifted up away from his throat. That will help keep his airway clear until the medics arrive.”

“Okay,” Kelly agreed, stroking Matt’s soft golden hair. He didn’t bother telling the dispatcher he’d already gone through the checklist. He didn’t want to give away any more information than he had to on a recorded call.

“Do you know how to perform CPR, sir?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about the reason for that question.

“Keep your friend on his side, watching closely to make sure he continues breathing. If he stops breathing, let me know, and I’ll talk you through what to do.”

Kelly nodded, momentarily forgetting that the operator couldn’t see him. He settled in next to Matt on the floor, rubbing his arms and staring worriedly at his pale, sweaty face. To his relief, Matt’s eyelids slowly began to flutter, and then he heard a tiny moan.

“Matt! He’s waking up. Matt.

Matt.”

Matt groaned, trying to cover his face with his arms. Kelly held him steady, continuing to repeat his name.

“Kel… where…?”

“Matt,” Kelly said again, this time with relief, as the blonde began clumsily trying to get up from the floor. “We’re in the bathroom at home. Thank god you made it home. You’re going to be okay. But let’s stay on the floor until the ambulance gets here, okay?”

“Ambulance?” Matt slowly echoed, allowing Kelly to reposition him on his side with his head resting on Kelly’s thigh.

“Yeah, buddy, you vomited and passed out. You need to go to the hospital.”

“The ETA for your ambulance is 2 more minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?” the 911 operator interjected.

“No, thank you.” Kelly reached across Matt’s torso to end the call.

“I don’t need an ambulance,” Matt unconvincingly objected. “Jus’– Just need some water and – and a nap.”

“Bullshit,” Kelly retorted. “You could have died, Matt. An ambulance is coming, and you’re letting them take you to the hospital. I’m not asking.”

Closing his eyes, he tried to will away the urge to shake some sense into his boyfriend. Scolding him for this was the opposite of productive – more likely, it would just make Matt retreat even further into isolation and shame.

He needs to feel loved,

Kelly reminded himself.

I can do that.

“What… What happened?” the blonde mumbled, apparently too weak to put up more of a fight.

Kelly hesitated. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Matt was quiet for a while, then whispered, “Oh,

shit.

Kelly…”

Smiling sadly, Kelly resumed stroking his hair. “It’s okay, angel. Don’t worry.”

“No, Kelly, I – I…”

“Shh, angel,” Kelly shushed him. “Don’t worry about it. Not right now. We’re going to take care of you right now, and we’ll figure everything else out later.”

“I – I – I lied… about Nesbitt, and Voight…”

Kelly nodded, smiling reassuringly as he looked down at his boyfriend’s face. “Yeah, baby. I know. And I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean it. I love you. Nothing – Andy… It wasn’t… God, I’m so

sorry.”

Tears flooded Kelly’s eyes, but he smiled even wider, making sure Matt saw. “I know, angel. I know. I’ve been where you are, and I promise, you’re gonna be okay. You have work to do, but you can do it. I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

Matt nodded sluggishly. “You always are. I… I don’t deserve…”

Gently shaking his shoulder, Kelly tried to keep him awake. “Hey, angel. Stay awake for me. Have you taken anything else, other than the alcohol? Any pills or weed or anything?”

The front door banged open, and he heard a female voice call out. “Medics!”

“We’re in the bathroom! Down the hall!”

He heard footsteps, and Matt once again struggled to sit up. Kelly allowed it this time, supporting his back with a knee and his waist with both hands.

A woman in a navy blue EMT jacket appeared in the doorway, quickly assessing the situation before kneeling in front of Matt. The second medic came in behind her, opening her bag on the floor. Kelly immediately recognized them as the medics from Ambulance 61’s third shift. Matt would hate that, but keeping this situation under wraps was the last thing Kelly cared about at the moment.

“Hey, Lieutenant Casey, how are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Matt cringed. “And gross.”

Kelly met the medic’s eye with an apologetic smile. She remained professional, placing a pulse oximeter on Matt’s finger and a blood pressure cuff on his arm.

“Do you know how much you had to drink?” she asked.

Matt slowly shook his head, leaning more heavily against Kelly’s arms. “Maybe six, seven... I don’t… I don’t really…”

Kelly urgently tapped his cheek, trying to keep him awake.

“Matt.

Stay with us, Matt.”

“Did you take anything else? Any pills, marijuana, street drugs?”

He didn’t answer, and his head dropped back to rest against Kelly’s chest. The second medic placed an oxygen mask on his face, lifting his head to position the strap.

“Severide?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we need to Narcan him?”

Kelly shifted nervously. “I have no idea, guys. I really want to say ‘no.’ But I don’t know.”

“Is he on any prescription medication?”

“Um, yeah,” Kelly said. “He takes Sertraline and Wellbutrin.” He’d been prescribed antidepressants around the time he stopped drinking. Kelly realized now he couldn’t remember the last time he saw Matt take them, but he didn’t pay close attention.

Damn, he wished he paid more attention.

“Are there any pain meds or benzos in the apartment?”

“No,” he denied. They were careful about that – for

his

sake.

“His breathing and heart rate are slow, but his lungs sound clear. There’s no harm in administering Naloxone if he doesn’t have opioids in his system, but if he does, it should help his breathing. I think we should try it.”

Kelly kept his mouth shut, knowing he had to let this play out. The medics drew up a dose of Naloxone from a vial and injected it in Matt’s thigh. Kelly held his breath while they waited, only exhaling when it became clear that Matt was still every bit as unconscious as before. As much as he wanted Matt’s skin to lose that terrifying gray pallor, opioid addiction was a beast he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“It’s not an opioid overdose,” one of the medics announced. “Let’s get him to the hospital.”

Kelly nodded, holding Matt a little tighter.

“We have the stair chair in the hall. Can you help us get him there?”

Kelly easily lifted his limp boyfriend and carried him the six steps to the chair. Stepping back so the medics could strap him in, Kelly informed them, “I’m riding with you. Just gonna grab him some clean clothes, and I’ll be with you by the time you load him up.”

In the bedroom, he grabbed his phone charger and clean outfits for them both, not sure when he’d be back home. He turned off the light and locked the front door, then ran down the stairs to meet Casey and the medics when the elevator reached the lobby.

Kelly helped them load Matt into the ambulance, then took a seat near his head. He had to lean out of the way for the paramedic to call in her report to the hospital, but she let him stay as close to Matt as he could get. He came around again as the engine started, and Kelly smiled at the sight of his red-rimmed blue eyes.

“Casey, have you taken any medication today? Injected or smoked anything?” the medic asked again.

Groaning, Matt shook his head. “No. Just – Just a lot of drinks.” He gagged, and Kelly snatched an eme-bag from the shelf before the medic could react. He held the blue plastic bag under Matt’s chin while he retched, but no more vomit came up.

“I’m starting an IV,” the medic explained. “Lt. Severide, please hold his arm steady.”

It took three tries to get the IV in, but Matt hardly seemed to notice. He stared at the ceiling of the ambulance, tears trickling down the sides of his face. He obviously wasn’t crying about the needle.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” the medic apologized. “It’s hard to find a vein when you’re dehydrated, but I’m giving you saline to help with that.”

Matt nodded, closing his eyes.

“Are you still with us, Matt?” Kelly asked after a moment.

The pale blonde weakly squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Wish I wasn’t…”

Kelly hoped the medic didn’t notice how his chin quivered. Seeing his boyfriend so miserable was just about the worst pain he’d ever felt. He knew the fear and humiliation of having a hidden addiction uncovered, and he would have done anything to spare Matt that nightmare.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said, because he couldn’t say anything else. “Everything’s going to be okay, Matt.”

“Love you,” Matt mumbled.

Smiling as brightly as he could, Kelly stroked the back of Matt’s hand with his thumb.

To hell with what anyone thinks.

“I love you, too, angel. Always will.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The first person to tell Matt “happy birthday” was the prison guard who checked his ID before he went through the metal detector. It was almost a three hour bus ride to the correctional center from the residential facility where social services had stashed him, so he used his brand new adult privileges to sign himself out from school right after lunch. The secretary’s face clearly expressed her disapproval, but Matt was eighteen now. He could do what he wanted, and there wasn’t anyone in the world with a right to say otherwise.

He took in his surroundings with wide-eyed curiosity while the guards led him and a small group of others to a visitation room. He hadn’t seen his mom since before the sentencing in January, and even then, all they’d been allowed were a couple of awkward, one hour visits in a social services office. His requests to visit her in prison hadn’t explicitly been denied, but bureaucracy enabled them to kick the can until he was old enough to go alone.

Taking his cue from the other visitors, Matt took a seat at one of the round metal tables scattered around the room. After another couple of minutes of silent, uncomfortable waiting, the door opened again, and a line of women in beige jumpsuits filed in. His mother’s face lit up the way it always did when she laid eyes on him, and he nervously returned her smile.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Matthew.” She sat across from him, reaching across the table to take his hand.

Glancing around the room, he suddenly doubted his decision to come. He extended his hand, though, not wanting to make a scene. He watched her fingers curl around his, feeling almost like he was looking at someone else’s hands. He couldn’t quite connect the woman in front of him with his mom.

“It’s so good to see you,” his mother declared. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he answered. “How are you doing?”

Her smile tightened. “I’m doing okay. Some of the neighbors are a little challenging, but I’m settling in.”

Neighbors.

Matt smiled weakly at the humor. That was his mom, through and through. She could make light of anything. Even prison.

“That’s good. Are…” He hesitated to ask the question, but now that he’d started, his mother stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. Swallowing nervously, he asked, “Are you safe here?”

Nancy nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yes, Matthew. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Matt nodded back at her, unable to think of anything else to say. Lying awake in bed for the past few months, his mind raced with questions. But sitting face to face with the woman who raised him, dressed in a drab prison jumpsuit with no makeup and no future, he couldn’t bring himself to make this moment about him. No matter why she did it, it was done. Nothing either of them said could ever change it.

“Do you need anything? Money?” he asked.

His mother chuckled, shaking her head.

Withdrawing his hand from hers, Matt straightened his back. He wasn’t joking. Maybe this was all some sick joke to her, but none of it was funny to him.

“I’m serious, Mom. I’ve heard that sometimes p–” he stopped himself from saying ‘prisoners’ –

“people,

in prison, they need money for the commissary. I know you don’t have anyone but me. I’m just saying, you don’t have to be proud. If you need help, you can ask me.”

He held his head high while his mother prepared to respond, determined to show her his strength. The one thing his parents agreed on was that Matt was emotionally fragile – Greg called him a “sissy,” and Nancy called him “sweet.” But he wasn’t weak, not anymore. In the end, they’d left him no choice about that.

“You’re a child, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. I should be the one taking care of you.”

Maybe you should have thought about that before you murdered Dad.

“I’m not a child anymore, Mom,” he said firmly. It was both emotionally and legally true.

She doesn’t know what day it is,

he realized, watching the comment go over her head. For a moment, he thought about telling her, but what would be the point? He wasn’t here to torture her, nor to remind her of her failings as a mother. He didn’t know what he

was

doing there, to be honest. But adults didn’t go out of their way to remind people of their birthday.

Instead of being comforted by his independence, Nancy’s eyes welled with tears. “You’ll always be my baby, sweetheart.”

Matt almost raised an eyebrow, but he forced himself to soften his expression. “Yeah,” he uncomfortably agreed. “And you’ll always be my mom.”

Nancy beamed like the awkward words actually meant something to her, and despite his inner turmoil, Matt was glad. He didn’t understand her, he didn’t know how he could ever forgive her – but he didn’t want her to suffer.

They talked for a few more minutes before Matt extracted himself. He’d been desperate to see her these past couple months, but the reality of sitting across from her was more jarring than he’d expected.

She killed him. My mom is a murderer, and we’re talking about the novel she’s been reading.

Part of him wanted to ask her why she did it – why she had to kill a man she’d already decided to divorce, why destroy not just her own life, but her kids’. But this was his mother – someone he loved, but knew next to nothing about. In 18 years, he’d never gotten a straight answer to even basic questions about her life. He didn’t have the guts to ask her this one.

Throughout their half-hour visit, Matt noticed that his mom didn’t ask a single question about him. As far as he knew, she didn’t even know where he lived since leaving the youth shelter where he spent the first two weeks after his aunt left town. Maybe it was too painful to hear, or maybe she just didn’t care.

She did ask if he’d seen Christie, but his sister was still on the other side of the country for school. Matt hadn’t seen her since their dad’s funeral, but DCFS made sure he got to call her every Friday night. She answered the phone maybe once or twice a month. He didn’t know if he’d keep calling, now that it was up to him. Continuing to reach out seemed kind of pathetic, especially since he realized Christie blamed him for what their mother did.

Finally, Matt saw the visitors he’d come in with wrapping up their visits. He awkwardly stood, feeling like he should hug her but warned off by the signs on the wall.

“Bye, Mom,” he said simply, putting his hands in his pockets.

His mother’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled up at him from her seat. “I love you, baby. Come back soon.”

It had never been more obvious that he was on his own. Staring blankly out the window on the bus ride back to the city, he finally allowed himself to reflect on that. His family was gone. One day, he was a boring, typical teenager with parents going through a bitter divorce. He wasn’t as smart or as popular as his sister, but he had a bright future and a handful of close friends. Then he left that stupid key out after a rough visit with his dad, so blinded with tears that he forgot it on the table while retreating to his room. The next time he saw his father was at the funeral home.

The union, friends, and extended family paid for the burial and service, and many of them told Matt to

“keep in touch”

while they hugged his sister and shook his hand. But none of them had room to take in a 17-year-old, so a gray-haired social worker drove him directly from the cemetery to a youth shelter, stopping for a McDonalds burger and fries on the way. None of his high school friends attended the funeral, and he hadn’t bothered to call any of them since.

Two stops before the group home, Matt got off the bus.  It was past sundown, and despite it technically being spring, there was a skiff of snow on the grass. Keeping his hands in his pockets for warmth, he nodded to the driver and began the familiar walk to one of his favorite convenience stores. He checked his reflection in a car window before going inside, making sure he looked as sweet and innocent as he could.

Matt’s watch showed that it was nearly 1 AM by the time he got back to campus. The courtyard was completely silent, and the windows in each of the four brick dormitory buildings were dark. His first instinct was to sneak back in through the back entrance to his dorm, but it wasn’t worth the potential embarrassment if he set off the alarm. The evenings were structured after they returned from school, so there was no chance his absence had been missed throughout dinner, tutoring, and chores. So he rang the doorbell instead, holding his head high while he waited for someone to let him in.

“Matthew, thank heavens,” exclaimed the worker who opened the door. “We called your school when you didn’t come home, and they told us you left in the middle of the day. If you weren’t 18, we would have called the police.”

“Sorry, Barb. I went to visit my mom,” Matt said flatly, unwilling to explain himself further.

The middle-aged woman ushered him inside. “You know you’re not supposed to do that without permission, but that’s a day staff problem. I’m just glad you’re safe. Come on, honey, let’s get you to bed.”

Matt nodded, walking past her and heading towards his room. He focused carefully on the task of walking up the stairs, giving no hint of his intoxication. Barb followed him to the bathroom, apparently determined to personally keep an eye on him until he climbed into bed. With that in mind, he used the toilet and brushed his teeth quickly, then greeted her with an appeasing smile when he returned to the hall.

“Good night, Barb,” he said politely.

“Hold up,” she said, scrutinizing his face.

Matt froze.

Damn. So close.

“Have you been drinking?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Matthew,” she said skeptically, putting her hands on her hips. She may have only known

him

for a few months, but she knew teenage boys better than just about anyone.

Matt sighed, self-consciously shifting from foot to foot. “Okay, fine,

yes.

It’s my birthday and my – well, my life is basically over. My mom is so fucked up she didn’t even know what day it was when I spent my allowance to go see her in jail, my friends are pretending I don’t exist, and my sister can’t be bothered to pick up the damn phone. I know you have to write me up, but for now, can I

please

just go to bed?”

“Where did you get the alcohol?” she asked, unaffected by his outburst. He knew she’d heard worse.

“I paid a stranger to buy me a six pack at a gas station.” It was only sort of a lie. He didn’t know the convenience store clerk personally, so he might as well be a stranger. And Matt was no nark.

“You drank a whole six pack tonight?” Barb asked, her brow lining with concern. “You don’t look – Matthew, how often do you do this?”

“This was the first time since I’ve been here,” Matt more brazenly lied. “My parents let me drink all the time at home, so I’m used to it.”

That was bullshit – Nancy Casey would

never

– but it was a story he’d heard often enough from the other boys that he knew the staff would buy it. Just like the night clerk at the gas station a few blocks away bought that he came in every couple days to buy beer for his wheelchair-bound dad.

Barb nodded. “Okay, then. The day staff will talk to you about this in the morning. For now, get on to bed.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, quickly moving in that direction. It wasn’t a free pass, but at least the consequences could wait until tomorrow. That was nearly as good.

The way he saw it, there was a slim chance they might kick him out now that he was technically “aged out” of DCFS custody, but none of the Catholics who ran the place showed any signs of giving up on saving his soul. His blue eyes and baby cheeks worked in his favor there, even if he did sleep through most of the chapel services and sneak out to buy beer. They usually let 18-year-olds stay until they finished high school, and that was just a few weeks away.

“Matthew,” Barb called after him as he closed his bedroom door, trying not to wake his sleeping roommate.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Happy birthday, honey.”

Nodding uncomfortably, Matt offered her a small smile of thanks. “Good night.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt scanned the new private seating area at Stilettos with a satisfied eye. He was almost finished with the job, and he couldn’t be happier about it. For one, the cash Nesbitt owed him would contribute nicely to their fund for a down payment on a house. And second, he always felt the need to shower after leaving the place. At first, he liked the idea of doing a job for a former firefighter, and he and Nesbitt hit it off. Over time, though, he’d come to see why Kelly didn’t trust the guy.

It started with Katya. When he first started the job at Stilettos, he felt a little bit uncomfortable around the dancers, not wanting them to think he was staring like the other men. The blonde Bulgarian called him on it, though, laughingly teasing him for being “skittish” around her. (He liked it better when Kelly called him “awkward” –

“skittish”

sounded like a cat they were trying to save from a tree – but he had to acknowledge that both were probably true.)

Over the weeks since then, they’d become friends, and he looked forward to talking with her while he worked. She told him a little bit about Bulgaria and asked a dizzying number of questions about his life in Chicago. There were so many things she wanted to see and do, he wondered sometimes why she didn’t go out and do them. He caught a hint of anxiety in her eyes as she laughed, blaming the job for taking up all her time. But even with two jobs, Matt still found time to visit Navy Pier a couple times a year. Katya had never been there.

She hadn’t seen Millennium Park, either, nor literally any US zoo. She talked about going to see brown bears and deer at a zoo in Bulgaria, but she’d never seen any of the “cool” animals – which, according to her, included penguins, tigers, and giraffes. He was tempted to offer to take her, but he didn’t want to be misinterpreted – especially since he was still trying to figure out her relationship with Jack.

The one thing Matt

could

tell for certain about those two was that Katya was uneasy around him. (If he was a less considerate person, he might have even called her

“skittish.”)

He’d never seen Nesbitt be anything but polite to her or the other women, but he knew better than most how hard it was to tell how someone acted behind closed doors.

The door opened, and Matt felt a flash of annoyance when Nesbitt walked in.

Speak of the devil…

“Hey, Matt,” the club owner greeted him. “Wow, the place looks fantastic.”

“Hey, Jack,” Matt said politely. “I figure I should have the job wrapped up in about a week – then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“About that…” Nesbitt said. “Before you head out today, would you mind swinging by my office? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is there a problem with the job?” Matt asked, glancing around the room. It

did

look fantastic, in his humble opinion, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Nesbitt turned out to be a late-blooming micromanager after all.

The other man shook his head, chuckling, and patted Matt on the shoulder. “Are you kidding? It looks better than I imagined. No, I’d like to talk about giving you

more

to do. Come see me, and we’ll talk.”

After securing Matt’s agreement, Nesbitt breezed out of the room the same way he came in. Matt returned to his work, wondering what other jobs he might ask him to do. He’d remodeled the bar, stage, and main seating area when he bought the place, so he probably didn’t want that redone.

He finished up and washed his hands, then made his way to Jack’s office. He found him alone, doing paperwork with the door wide open and a bottle of bourbon on his desk.

Matt tapped the doorframe with his knuckles. “Hey.”

Nesbitt looked up with his usual cocky smile, waving him in. “Thanks, Matt. Come on in, have a seat.”

Matt sat across from him, shaking his head at Nesbitt’s unspoken offer to pour him a drink. He poured a second glass anyway, then slid it across the desk to Matt.

“I know you have a shift tomorrow, but you’re a bourbon guy, right? I’m sure one drink won’t knock you off your game.”

Nodding shortly, Matt uncomfortably accepted the glass. He might have a sip or two while they talked, but that was it. He hated outing himself as an alcoholic, especially in professional settings. It was one thing for his crew at 51 to know – they were his family, and they trusted each other with their lives every day. He didn’t want people like Nesbitt in his business, though. Once someone knew something about you, there was no taking it back, and no way to control what they did with the information. It was easier to just play along.

“So you have another construction job?” Matt asked.

“Down to business,” Nesbitt smiled, as though he’d known Matt long enough to know him well. He passed Matt one of the folders from his desk. “I’ve been meeting with some investors, and we’re planning to open a whole chain of Stilettos. They all love the work you’ve done here, and we need someone for the remodels.”

Raising his eyebrow, Matt flipped the folder open and glanced over the addresses, photos, and blueprints inside. There were three properties, all with decent-sized commercial buildings already in place. One in particular would take a lot of work to rehab, but it would be an interesting challenge.

Of course, it would mean at least a few more months of working for Nesbitt, but the man couldn’t be in four places at once. And Matt had done jobs for people he liked less… although none paid as well as Nesbitt.

“They’re all in Chicago?” he confirmed.

“For now, yeah – the furthest one is out in Naperville. We’re hoping to eventually expand to other cities in the Midwest.”

“Do you have a timeline in mind? You know I’m still rebuilding my business, doing most of the work myself. I don’t know if I can take on a job of this scale.”

Nesbitt shook his head, his confidence unshaken. “The quality of your work is unmatched, and where else are we going to find an honest contractor in Chicago?”

His eyes flickering over the untouched bourbon, Matt chuckled humorlessly.

“We’re planning to open one at a time, about six months apart. Why don’t you take this home and look over it, decide if you want the job, then let me know how much lead time you think you’ll need for the first one.”

Matt nodded, moving to get up from his chair. Nesbitt stopped him with a look, gesturing to the bourbon.

“I know you don’t have a girlfriend waiting at home. Take a break, for once in your life.”

Effectively trapped in his seat by that comment, Matt forced a friendly smile. “I don’t spend much time sitting still.”

“I can tell,” Nesbitt remarked, raking his eyes over him.

Matt took a sip of his bourbon, seeking a distraction from the discomfort of being looked at like that. As long as he didn’t drink enough to feel a buzz, he didn’t feel bad about it – he figured it just proved he could learn to drink in moderation.

They talked for a few minutes, swapping war stories. Nesbitt did most of the story-telling, and his polished phrasing made it obvious that he told the same stories a lot. Well-aware of the benefits of stroking the ego of the man who signed his paycheck, Matt indulged him by sticking to tamer stories of his own.

Matt limited himself to three sips of bourbon, claiming to get heartburn when Nesbitt asked. The man certainly had the nosiness that ran rampant among firefighters – if Matt knew how many times he’d have to explain why he wasn’t drinking, he probably would have told the truth in the first place.

He texted Kelly before heading home, finding out what he wanted for dinner. They definitely needed to get takeout tonight – even on a relatively quiet evening, more than a few minutes at Stilettos inevitably left him with a headache.

To his relief, Kelly sent him a screenshot of a pizza delivery order placed just minutes earlier: a smoked BBQ deep dish pizza with chicken on one half and pork on the other, a giant peanut butter cookie, and a Caprese salad so they could tell themselves they were eating healthy.

“I love you ❤️,”

Matt texted back.

Driving home, he muttered curses at the assholes who drove with their high beams in the middle of the city. There were entirely too many of them, and by the time he got home, he was fantasizing about taking a baseball bat to somebody’s headlights. Instead, he retrieved the small lockbox he kept in his glovebox and entered the combination.

He opened the prescription bottle inside and counted the remaining pills – five. Cringing, he cut one of the tablets in half and swallowed it dry, then locked the rest back up.

The first three times he took one, he told himself he wouldn’t do it again. At this point, he was trying to convince himself he could make four and a half Percocet last until his stupid headaches went away. He always got them after a concussion, and this was usually about the time they started easing up. At least he didn’t have any other symptoms this time. Headaches were an inconvenience, but the memory lapses and mood swings he went through last year were worse.

Fortunately, half a pill was plenty, and he started to feel better by the time he got upstairs. He smiled brightly when Kelly met him at the door, eagerly reciprocating his kiss.

“How long until the pizza gets here?” he asked.

“Ten, fifteen minutes,” Kelly answered.

Turning Kelly around and pushing him back against the door, Matt smirked. “Perfect. That’s exactly the amount of time we need.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt frequently thought of Kelly Severide as the most stubborn man he’d ever known. Watching the injured lieutenant grimace his way downstairs the day after his hospital discharge and less than a week after being blown up by a grenade, he was more sure of that than ever. Kelly still refused to have his Percocet prescription filled, but Matt could tell the pain was getting to him. Even alternating between two different over-the-counter pain meds, he could barely reach for something on the coffee table without wincing. Matt was relieved when he took the elevator back up to their apartment instead of climbing the stairs – he didn’t want to stand by and watch his boyfriend suffer through that. He understood why Kelly resisted taking the medication, but if he and Clarke helped keep tabs on his pills, Matt didn’t see the harm. He tried not to feel stung by Kelly’s short temper while they waited for Clarke to come over so he could go out. He knew from personal experience how frustrating it was to be injured – he preferred not to remember some of the things he’d said and done to Kelly after his skull fracture. So instead of reacting, he gave Kelly his space and quietly went about setting up a base of operations for him on the couch. Even knowing Clarke would stay with Kelly while he was out, Matt felt compelled to take care of him. He still couldn’t close his eyes without reliving the horror of finding him unconscious on the floor of the ER. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t leave Kelly’s side for weeks, but he knew him well enough to tell when he needed space. At least with polyamory, he could go out for a few hours with the assurance that someone would look after his wounded boyfriend. His first stop was at the pharmacy. His doctor offered to hook him up with prescription-strength NSAIDs for his lingering headaches. As long as he didn’t have any other post-concussion symptoms and the headaches responded to the meds, he would be cleared to return to work. While he was there, he retrieved Kelly’s discarded prescription from his glovebox and had it filled, too. If his boyfriend’s pain got bad enough to agree to take one, he would be glad to have them on hand. If not, he could drop them off at a safe medication disposal site once Kelly recovered. Back in his truck, he took his first giant Ibuprofen tablet before driving to the hardware store. He was still replacing the tools that got blown up with his truck in January. He hoped to start putting in bids for small construction jobs soon, while they saved up to buy a house. He preferred rehabbing houses, but he didn’t make as much money on those jobs. He felt bad when he saw working-class families struggling to make ends meet, and often ended up charging less than his work was worth. Kelly, on the other hand, always seemed to end up with rich assholes as clients when he got in the mood to rehab a boat. Matt wouldn’t mind making a profit working for someone like that. Maybe he should have him start carrying his business card and pointing out to rich assholes’ wives where rooms could use more natural light. Matt’s headache eased up by the time he got to the check-out line. The owner was chatty, but he was a great source of information – on construction, the neighborhood, and most of all, his other customers. “Hey, Matt,” the pot-bellied gray-haired man greeted him, his tone as close to cheeriness as it ever came. “Hey, Gary,” Matt smiled, putting his new orbital sander on the counter. After the fire, he bought cabinets for Shay’s new bathroom instead of building them himself, but he liked to do his woodworking by hand when the job was less urgent. Replacing those tools was near the top of his list. “Did your company respond to that terrorist attack at the hospital?” Gary asked, pulling his glasses down to the end of his nose while ringing up Matt’s order. Matt nodded, enduring a sharp wave of nausea at the mention of the attack. “Yeah. We were there unloading a bunch of patients from a chemical spill when it happened.” “Damn, you have the worst luck, don’t you, kid?” “Eh… Some of my guys think I might be the luckiest man alive,” Matt pointed out, shrugging slightly to indicate what he thought of that notion. “I’ve been through two bombings since Christmas, with barely a scratch.” It was the people around him who weren’t so lucky, but he kept that thought to himself. Instead, he changed the subject to the real reason he was there. “Now that things are settling down a little and the weather’s warming up, I’m looking to put in bids on some commercial jobs. If you hear of any businesses in the neighborhood needing some work done, would you let me know?” “Yeah, sure thing,” the store owner agreed. “I still owe you one for helping out with all the code violations in the building when I moved into the new place.” Sometimes Matt’s generosity did pay off. In exchange for about two hours of work getting the building up to code, he had a lifelong 5% discount at this shop and the goodwill of a neighborhood gossip. Whenever the owner heard of someone in the neighborhood needing a remodel, he sent their business Matt’s way. Once he paid and got back in his truck, he pulled out his phone. He had a text from Shay – a picture of a depressed-looking black Labrador Retriever in a cone of shame, followed by “We should get a cone for Kelly.”  Smirking, Matt texted back, “Clarke’s sitting with him, so I expect him to be tied to the bed by the time I get home.”  Since dating Jeff, Kelly had grown from having a hard limit against bondage to showing Matt pictures of Shibari poses he found on the internet while they watched TV. Matt found it surprisingly sexy to watch his boyfriend explore a new kink, and it was new to him, too. He’d never even heard of Shibari before. To him, bondage was a means to an end, but to his metamour, it was more like an art form. Matt wasn’t sure if he would be turned on by trying it himself, but he loved having a front row seat to Kelly’s enthusiasm. Thinking of his boyfriend, he pulled up their text conversation, tempted to check in. He knew Kelly was probably fine, but he couldn’t shake the image of tears welling in Kelly’s eyes while he collapsed on the couch after their trip downstairs. But he also remembered his irritation about being babied, and the pitiful catch in his voice when he called himself “weak.” As the most stubborn man in the world, Kelly would probably take a check-in text the wrong way. “Clarke’s got this, Matt,” Matt muttered to himself, putting his phone back in his pocket and turning his key in the ignition. Jeff might be better qualified to make sure Kelly followed the doctor’s orders, anyway. Kelly was at least a little bit afraid to cross him, unlike Matt. He needed to go to the bank before his CFD support group, and he could already feel his headache creeping back around the edges of his skull. The support group had coffee and cookies – two things that would help with his headache, at least for an hour or two. Sighing, he flipped his turn signal on and drove away.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Three days after Nesbitt talked to Matt about the new construction contract, Matt enjoyed a leisurely morning in bed. Kelly spent the night before with Jeff, so he had the apartment all to himself. Ever since Kelly’s most recent run-in with death, he’d been having a hard time falling asleep on his own, so he stayed out later than usual the night before, meeting Katya for dinner after she finished work at the club. The single glass of white wine she poured him helped him relax, but he carefully avoided getting drunk. When he got home around 2:00, he didn’t mind Kelly’s absence – it meant there was nobody to keep him awake.He took full advantage of the quiet, sleeping soundly until his phone rang at 7:15. Groaning with displeasure, Matt reached for the phone on his nightstand, smacking the screen until the music stopped. “You sleeping?” Kelly asked brightly. “Mmm,” Matt confirmed, burying his face against the soft cotton pillowcase. “You want a muffin?” Kelly asked. “Mmph,” Matt more happily agreed. “Okay,” Kelly chuckled. “I’ll be home in about an hour – I’ll let myself in quietly, and your muffin will be in the kitchen.” Matt lifted his head so Kelly could hear his response. “Get in bed with me. Bring the muffin.” A second laugh came through the phone, and Kelly cleared his throat. “Okay, baby. I’ll be there soon.” “Love you,” Matt dismissed him, letting the pillow muffle his words again. “Kiss Clarke goodbye for me.” Kelly laughed. “Will do. Sweet dreams, angel.” Matt next woke to the much more pleasant sound of his boyfriend opening the bedroom door. Soft footsteps crossed the room, and the mattress shifted as Kelly climbed into bed. He stayed on top of the blanket, letting Matt keep his warmth, but pulled him back against his body, taking his place as the big spoon. Recognizing the scents of both Severide and chocolate, Matt opened his eyes. “Muffin,” he whispered. Kelly snorted, placing the triple chocolate masterpiece in front of Matt’s face. “Thank you,” he mumbled, pinching off a bite-sized piece from the muffin and stuffing it in his mouth. He licked the fudge from his fingers, then reached back to rest his palm against the rough stubble on Kelly’s jaw. “You’re welcome,” his boyfriend answered, reaching across him to secure the muffin before it could tumble off the bed. “How was your date?” Matt asked curiously. Clarke had invited him along to the class they attended at the kink club – “Topping Your Untamable Brat” – but Matt wanted to wrap up his job at Stiletto’s. “It was fun,” Kelly said quietly, placing a soft kiss on Matt’s neck. “We went out for burgers and onion rings, I got to hear about why Clarke likes my bratty side, and the sex was pretty great.” “And you got muffins,” Matt observed, taking another bite. Kelly’s soft laugh warmed the back of his neck. “You and Jeff got muffins. I had a cherry Danish.” “What do you want to do today?” Matt asked. Kelly hummed in thought. “Do you want to go for a run together? Maybe see if Shay and Dawson want to go somewhere this evening?” Rolling over to look at him, Matt nodded. “Yeah… but first I might need you to coax me out of bed.” Kelly set the muffin on the nightstand, then began peeling Matt’s blanket away. “Okay, angel.” Matt tightened his grip on the blanket, pulling it up to his chin. “Go under the blanket.” Kelly laughed, sitting back on his heels and pulling his hunter green t-shirt over his head. “This is gonna be a long game, huh?” Watching appreciatively as the pendant around Kelly’s neck bounced against his chest, Matt nodded. “Yep. I’m really comfy in bed.” “Do you want me to leave you alone?” Kelly asked with a smile. “Or I can grab a book and lie here with you while you sleep.” Matt’s cock made that decision. “No. I’m sure you can warm me up enough to make me want to let the blanket go.” Playfully waggling his eyebrows, Kelly reached under the blanket to pull off Matt’s socks. “Okay. You can keep the blanket for now, but everything else is coming off.” “Deal,” Matt happily agreed. Just as Kelly was kissing Matt’s bare tummy and shimmying his pajama bottoms down his hips, Matt’s phone rang again. “Is that your girlfriend?” Kelly teased, his voice muffled by the bedspread covering his head. Matt groaned, slipping one arm out from under the blanket to turn his phone off. “If it’s not the person who’s about to suck my cock, I don’t want to hear from them.” “Who says I’m about to suck your cock?” Kelly asked. Matt lifted the blanket to peek underneath, making eye contact with his boyfriend. “Pretty please?” Kelly kissed his crotch just above the elastic waistband of his partially-lowered pants, making Matt’s muscles ripple with pleasure. He apparently didn’t plan to give Matt’s request a verbal response, but he made his intentions clear. “You’re extra cuddly this morning,” Kelly observed, tipping his head to the side so Matt could leave a trail of kisses across his shoulder. In theory, they were getting dressed for their run, but Kelly struggled to remember how underwear worked with a blissed-out Matt Casey attached to his waist. Not that he was complaining. “Oh, is that a problem?” Matt asked, abruptly letting go of Kelly’s love handles. Sitting down on the bed, he reached for his phone and turned it back on, pretending Kelly was no longer there. Rolling his eyes, Kelly finished putting on his boxer briefs and running shorts, then pulled Matt back into his arms. The blonde tried to ignore him, but within moments, he was smiling again. “Who called you earlier?” “Voight,” Matt answered, his brows knitting together with distaste. “Ew,” Kelly reacted, wrinkling his nose. “What did he want?” Matt shrugged, placing his phone face down on the nightstand. “I’d have to talk to him to find out, so I guess we’ll never know.” As Kelly parallel parked his car on a street near the running trail in Humboldt Park, Matt’s phone rang again. Sighing, he took it from his pocket to see who was calling. “Voight again,” he announced, shaking his head. He silenced the phone and dropped it in the cupholder, where it continued to buzz. “I wonder what he wants,” Kelly said, rolling his window up and taking the key from the ignition. Taking his wallet and water bottle but leaving the phone where it was, Matt got out of the car. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not really interested in finding out.” “It could be important,” Kelly pointed out, obviously wishing Matt would answer. Digging his heels in, Matt shrugged off his comment. Voight occasionally had vital information, but more often, he wanted to harass them for information or accuse them of crimes they knew nothing about. Whatever it was this time, Matt wasn’t in the mood. “If it’s really important, he’ll have Antonio or Halstead call me. Or he’ll call you. He’s a detective, right? Tracking me down will be fun for him.” Kelly chuckled, shaking his head. Matt watched fondly as Kelly subconsciously patted his pocket, making sure he had his phone. Ever since the night he kept little Nathan from bleeding out in an overturned backhoe loader, he never went running without it. They helped each other stretch in the grass along the greenway, giving in to the temptation to kiss just a little when they were pretty sure no one was watching. Kelly’s squinty-eyed laughter looked more beautiful than ever in the sunlight, and Matt felt his face flushing even before they started running. “Okay,” Kelly grinned, taking Matt by the hand and tugging him towards the trail. “Do you wanna play tag?” Smirking, Matt freed his hand and turned to walk backwards in front of his boyfriend. “I don’t know – is that just an excuse to touch my butt?” Kelly looked him up and down, then gave him an impish smile. “Definitely.” Matt grinned, jogging backwards a few steps to get his butt out of range. “You better up your game then, Severide. You’re it.” Less than half a mile into their run, Kelly’s phone rang in his pocket just as Matt’s palm connected with his ass. Stopping, Kelly pulled out his phone, then held it out to Matt. “It’s for you.” Matt’s jaw dropped. “No.” Laughing, Kelly nodded, pressing the phone into his hand. “Yeah. It’s Voight.” Matt rolled his eyes, but enough was enough. He answered the call. “Voight,” he said dryly, putting the phone on speaker so Kelly could hear. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”  “I need to talk to you about your buddy, Jack Nesbitt,” Voight announced, uninterested in Matt’s disinterest. “He’s not my buddy,” Matt snapped. “Leave me alone, Voight.”  “I think you’ll want to hear this.”  Kelly mouthed something at Matt, motioning to the phone. Frowning, Matt shook his head. “I really don’t. Bye, Hank.” He hung up, then slipped the phone back into Kelly’s pocket. Smiling reassuringly in response to Kelly’s disappointed scowl, he put a hand on his lower back. “If you want to talk to him when I’m not around and satisfy your curiosity, be my guest,” he offered. “For now – last one to the Blue Line stop buys dinner?” Kelly grinned, giving Matt’s bottom one last friendly pat. “You’re on.” They both took off, sprinting as fast as they could without knocking any pedestrians over. With bragging rights for the evening at stake, neither man was messing around.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt smiled nervously as he settled into the orange plastic chair across the table from one of the counselors at his group home. He unfolded the sheet of paper in his back pocket, sliding it across the table.

“I did my homework,” he offered.

The friendly young man sitting across from him returned his smile, accepting the completed worksheet and glancing over his responses.

“So like you probably guessed, this week, we’re going to talk about your career goals.”

Matt nodded. The worksheet he filled out was some kind of career aptitude quiz, making him answer questions like

“Do you want to work alone or as part of a team?”

and

“Do you prefer talking to people or working with your hands?”

Matt hated that stuff, but he dutifully filled it out during breakfast that morning, after the house dad who woke him up reminded him he had counseling after school.

“What careers have you thought about?” the counselor asked.

Matt tapped his fingers against his knees. “I thought about being a fireman. Or if that doesn’t work out, maybe an EMT or something.”

The counselor looked startled, and Matt shifted in his seat. Watching the man look him up and down, he squared his shoulders, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I know I look small, but I’m stronger than I look,” he said. “And I’m not afraid of heights.”

The counselor raised his eyebrow, but his posture relaxed. “Really? Not at all?”

Matt shrugged. “Yeah. I never have been. I’ve always liked climbing trees, and when I was eight, I got out on the roof of my house at night so I could see the stars from up close.”

He laughed. “How did you get down?”

Matt smiled, fondly remembering that night. “The same way I got out – through the attic window. I did it three times before my parents found out and told me I couldn’t go up there anymore.”

“Is that why you want to be a fireman?” the counselor asked, taking a mildly teasing tone. “Because you want to be a daredevil, climbing out on rooftops and getting cats out of trees?”

Matt glanced pointedly at the paper, where he’d already written down this information. “Maybe a little. I like being outside and working with my hands, but I want to use my brain and make decisions, not just cut down trees, or whatever. And I want to help people, not make money for some company.”

“You know in Chicago, you can’t join the fire department until you’re 21, and there’s a lottery even then. There are a lot of physical requirements, too, and you have to pass written exams. Have you thought about what you would do until you could join? Do you have a plan B?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah. My dad left me a bunch of his tools in his will, and he taught me how to run a construction business. After I graduate, I want to get a construction apprenticeship. One of my dad’s old buddies told me he could hook me up.”

“What about trade school? You could make even more money with a skill like welding, and there are scholarships for youth in state custody.”

Matt shrugged, looking down at the table. “Maybe if I don’t make it as a fireman by a certain age, I can learn welding as my plan B.” It would look good on the paperwork the counselor was filling out.

The counselor nodded, continuing to write. They had written records of practically everything Matt said and did – every argument, whether he completed his daily chores, what time of day he ate and showered. It drove him crazy, but he tried to ignore it. It was just for a few more months.

“And you said EMT? Do you have a strong stomach?”

Matt tipped his head slightly. “Yeah, I think so.”

He knew that like his parents, the staff thought he was soft. Maybe he hadn’t seen as much as some of the other boys, but that didn’t make him naïve.

“Okay,” the counselor said, leaning back in his chair. “Well, it sounds like you have a solid plan A. Looking at your grades, I do think you should consider college. That could open a lot of doors, and there’s nothing stopping you from getting a degree and then becoming a fireman if that’s still something you’re interested in a few years from now.”

Matt pressed his lips together, shrugging. He wasn’t interested in spending four more years sitting in a classroom, when he could be making money at a construction job and making his own decisions. If he wanted to learn about something, he knew how to read.

“I’ll think about it,” he promised, offering the counselor his most convincing smile.

After counseling, he had his weekly phone call with Christie. The group home had a small room by the kitchen with a single beige armchair and a phone, which the residents could use to make private calls. Going inside, Matt closed the door, then leaned against it while he dialed the phone. Not expecting his sister to answer, he nearly dropped the phone when he heard her voice.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Christie,” he said with obvious surprise, shocked to hear her voice. “Uh, hey.”

There were people talking in the background, and he heard Christie moving around. After a few seconds, a door slammed and the talking stopped.

“Hey, little bro,” Christie greeted him again, sounding slightly out of breath. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he parroted back, taking a seat on the arm of the chair and twisting the phone cord around his finger. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she unconvincingly answered. “I finished up with final exams today, so I have a few weeks off from school.”

“That’s cool,” he said. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he asked, “I guess you can’t come back to Chicago for Christmas though, can you?”

Christie was quiet for a long moment, and Matt scuffed the toe of his shoe against the thin green carpet.

That was a stupid thing to say,

he thought with a cringe. Feeling pathetic for even asking, he steeled himself for her “no.”

“I’m sorry, Matt,” she said, sounding sincerely apologetic. “I really can’t afford a flight right now.”

Biting his lip, Matt stared at the ugly floral wallpaper and tried not to feel. He hated his own weakness – it wasn’t like he really expected to see her, but hearing it confirmed still managed to sting.

“It’s okay,” he said as brightly as he could. “I just hate for you to spend Christmas alone in your dorm.”

After another awkward silence, Christie cleared her throat. “Um, my boyfriend’s mom invited me to spend Christmas with their family, so I’ll be there for a few days.”

“Oh, well… that’s good,” Matt answered, trying to imagine spending Christmas morning with someone else’s family. All things considered, he thought being in a group home might actually be better. Watching someone

else’s

mom cook breakfast and pass out the presents under the tree would be too hard. At least this way, he’d be surrounded by other people having an equally shitty Christmas.

“Yeah, um… How are you doing?” Christie asked.

Matt exhaled shakily, tracing the outline of one of the fading pink flowers on the wall with his eyes. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah? How’s school going? Are you passing all your classes?”

Bristling, Matt pulled his finger free from the cord he’d been fidgeting with and straightened his posture. “I’ve never failed anything. I have A’s and B’s.”

“Do you like your new school?” she asked.

Matt wished he could answer with a shrug. “It’s okay. It’s a school.” Feeling slightly guilty for not giving her more to go on, he added, “I’m excited about graduation. Just five more months.”

“That

is

exciting,” she said more enthusiastically, latching onto the subject. “Have you finished your college applications?”

Now he kind of wished the wallpaper could answer for him. “Um, no. I decided not to go to college.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced for impact.

“What?” she asked sharply. “Matt, what the hell? Why not?”

“I don’t need college to do what I want to do,” he explained. “I talked to my counselor about maybe going to trade school, though.”

He could practically hear Christie’s eye roll. “Are you still in your firefighter phase? You know, even if you think you want to do that, you should still get a degree, just in case. You need a back-up plan.”

“Construction is my back-up plan,” he answered. “I’m going to start an apprenticeship this summer.”

“You’re so

smart,

Matt,” his sister lamented. “You could do anything, and now that you’re in foster care, you don’t even have to pay for school. Why waste that?”

“I’m not

wasting

anything,” he protested, cringing at the high pitch of his voice. Doing his best to adjust his tone, he continued, “I’m smart enough to know what I want. Firefighting isn’t a ‘phase.’ I want to make a difference for people, not just sit behind a desk and make money. That might be enough for you, but I need to do something that matters.”

“Thanks, Matt,” she said sarcastically.

Too irritated to apologize, he stared blankly at the plain white ceiling.

After a long silence, Christie cleared her throat again. “Maybe I could fly out for your graduation,” she offered. “I’ll see if I can put the money together.”

Pressing his lips together, Matt slowly exhaled. She probably wouldn’t follow through, and he wasn’t going to count on it. But still…

“That would be great,” he said. “I miss you, sis.”

“I miss you too,” she answered. “Hey, same time next week, right?”

“Yeah,” he said dully. It was the same time

every

week, but she rarely answered.

“Okay. Have a good week, Matt. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he sighed, and the line disconnected. Frowning, he hung up the phone.

He didn’t get up right away, continuing to loop the phone cord around his finger while staring blankly at the wall. For once, he actually

wanted

to think about his family, but after months of repressing every memory that triggered any emotion at all, he struggled to bring them to mind.

Closing his eyes, Matt pictured the Christmas tree in his childhood home. At first, he placed his mom, dad, and Christie around it, but thinking of his parents together made him feel sick. Growing queasy, he shook his head and wiped his face.

He stared up at the ceiling and took a few deep breaths, then tried a different approach. He closed his eyes again, but this time, he built a mental image of his own wife and kids. Someday

he

would be the one making pancakes and bacon on Christmas morning, while his wife got the kids out of bed. They would open presents and spend the day laughing and playing together, the only conflicts about sharing toys.

His stomach settling, Matt slowly stood. He liked spending time in this room, the most private spot on campus. It wasn’t easy to find peace and quiet in a dormitory full of teenage boys. Some days, he appreciated that – it meant fewer opportunities to be alone with his thoughts. Other times, though, he wanted to brood, and the hideous floral phone closet was his favorite spot.

Bracing himself, he opened the door and stepped out into the chaos.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt’s morning started out like just about any day he and Kelly worked. He stayed in bed longer than he should have, reluctant to leave the warmth and security of Kelly’s arms. After being unable to really cuddle his boyfriend while he healed from the attack, he appreciated time spent simply holding each other more than ever. Almost twenty minutes after their alarm went off, Kelly finally nudged him out of bed, worried about being late for their shift. They showered, drank their coffee, and got dressed in near-total silence, then kissed at the door as if they weren’t going to the same place. “Be safe today,” Matt ordered, gently scratching the back of Kelly’s head as they stepped apart. Kelly smiled. “You know me.” Rolling his eyes, Matt reached for his work bag, but Kelly got to it first. “Let’s carpool,” he suggested, slinging a bag over each of his shoulders. “Sure,” Matt agreed. He turned off the lights and got the door, ushering Kelly through. Most days, they drove to work separately, since Kelly often had plans with Clarke or Shay after their shift. Matt didn’t mind carpooling, though – it meant more time with Kelly before they had to don the roles of Lieutenant Casey and Lieutenant Severide. He didn’t know what had him feeling so clingy, but he would take every moment he could get. Kelly waited until they were in his Mustang on the way to 51 before he made his intentions clear. Keeping his eyes on the road and a neutral expression on his face, he asked, “Have you thought any more about whether you want to take that job for Nesbitt?” Matt sighed. “It’s a lot of money. And I want to buy a second house.” “You know, you can kick Gabby and Shay out in August, if you want to move back into your house. I’m sure we could help them find a nice apartment now that we aren’t in the middle of a crisis.” Matt immediately shook his head. “No… It’s always going to be the house I bought because Hallie and I broke up, in my mind. But I think she’d be happy that Shay is living there.” Kelly nodded, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel while they waited at a red light. “Okay… Well, have you thought about offering to sell the house to Dawson and Shay?” Matt hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think they’d want that? Did they say something to you?” Realistically, he didn’t think Dawson and Shay could afford to buy his house. Dawson took a pay cut by going from paramedic-in-charge to firefighter candidate, and Shay’s disability payments were only 75% of her CFD salary. He’d overheard enough conversations between Kelly and Dawson to know that even with great insurance, being disabled was expensive. But if they wanted to buy it, he would try to work out a plan. He didn’t particularly enjoy being a landlord. Kelly shook his head. “No, they haven’t said anything. I’m just brainstorming.” Matt glanced over at him with a knowing smile. “You really don’t want me to take this job, do you?” Kelly shrugged noncommittally. “It’s up to you… but I’d feel a lot better if we knew what Voight has to say before you do.” Sighing, Matt rubbed his forehead. “Honestly, if Voight has anything to say about him, maybe that’s enough of a sign that I don’t want to get involved.” “Lieutenant Casey.” Matt’s head snapped up at the sound of Connie’s less-than-cheerful voice. Leaving his newspaper on the common room table, he turned his chair around to face her. “Hey, Connie.” “Phone call for you.” “Who is it?” he asked. “Sergeant Voight.” Matt sighed. “Did he say what it’s about?” The chief’s assistant raised her eyebrow, like that was one question too many. “I didn’t ask.” Matt turned back to the table with an exasperated eye roll. Voight really couldn’t take a hint. “Tell him I’m not interested. Thanks, Connie.” Herrmann, Cruz, and Mouch exchanged curious glances, but none of them dared to ask. Capp, having no such scruples, chimed in from the other table, where he and Tony were putting together a jigsaw puzzle. “What does Voight want?” he asked. Matt shrugged, pointedly holding up his copy of the Sunday paper. He pretended to give it his full attention, but Voight’s persistence had him starting to doubt himself. Kelly clearly wanted him to find out what the sergeant knew about Nesbitt, and deep down, Matt was curious too. He was on the fence about putting in his bid for the construction job, and whatever Voight wanted to tell him might make his decision for him. He wondered if Voight could shed some light on Katya, too. Every time Matt talked with her, the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right grew a little bit stronger. He was well-aware he had a “saving people” thing, but his instincts about people in need of saving were usually spot-on. His musing was interrupted by a call for Ambulance and Truck. He eagerly dropped the paper and jumped to his feet, thankful for a distraction. Kelly lazily saluted them from his seat at the Squad table as they geared up, forcing Matt to suppress a smile before hopping up next to Cruz. When Matt walked into the common room two hours later, a conspicuous silence fell over his coworkers. A quick scan of the room pinpointed Otis and Cruz as the epicenter of the mischief, and Matt seriously considered walking back out of the room. Instead, he employed his best dad voice while continuing toward the fridge. “What’s up, guys?” First came silence, then hushed whispers, then a kick under the table. Smirking behind the open refrigerator door, Matt grabbed a cold bottle of water. “This was on the table. Capp says some guy dropped it off while we were out on that call,” Cruz said, apparently drawing the short straw. He held out a rectangular wooden box, which Matt cautiously accepted. “Why is it open?” he asked, shooting Cruz an accusing look. “Well, your name wasn’t on the outside, and Capp and Tony weren’t paying attention when the guy said who it was for,” Otis explained, bailing his buddy out. When he lifted the lid to see what it was, Matt’s stomach sank. He froze in place, staring at the box’s contents while his heartbeat sped up. “Uh…” he said awkwardly. He didn’t need the note to know who it was from. It was the overpriced bourbon Nesbitt favored, which they’d drunk together three times. “The note’s signed from Jack Nesbitt,” Mouch helpfully informed him. Matt scratched his neck, figuring out his play. “Yeah. He has another job he wants me to take on, and he knows I’m on the fence. Anyway… I’ll start the bidding for this at 150 bucks. One of you can write up a silent auction, and the highest bidder can bring me the cash by the start of next shift.” “It retails for over a thousand,” Cruz announced, holding up his phone. “Dang, Nesbitt really wants you to work for him,” Otis observed. Matt shrugged, putting the lid back on the box without bothering to read the note. “Apparently.” Connie appeared in the doorway once again, looking even less impressed than last time. “Lieutenant Casey.” “Yeah?” Matt asked, his blood pressure slowly returning to normal. “Sergeant Voight would like a word.” Matt sighed. “I’m sorry he keeps bothering you, Connie. Please tell him I’m not interested and to stop calling.”  Despite his curiosity, it was a matter of principle now. He would probably end up calling Antonio later in the day. “He’s not on the phone this time,” Connie said dryly, nodding towards the briefing room. Matt’s blood pressure skyrocketed again. “Great.” Leading with a show of strength, Matt stood tall as he strode into the unlit briefing room. Hank Voight stood motionless in the center of the room with both hands in his pockets, and Matt immediately fixed him with a glare. “You got 30 seconds.” Voight walked past Matt to close the door, still leaving the lights off. Annoyed by the cop’s flare for the dramatic, Matt counted off the seconds in his head. “Listen…” Voight began slowly, wasting precious time. “Your buddy over at the strip club, Jack Nesbitt –” “Not my buddy,” Matt muttered, thinking of the humiliating box in his hand. Blaming the embarrassing moment he’d just endured on Nesbitt was more appealing than acknowledging that he’d slipped. Voight ignored the interruption. “He’s into some nasty business. We need a man on the inside. I think you could be that man.” “Sorry,” Matt said sarcastically, reaching zero on his countdown and reaching for the door. “I’m out of the Nesbitt business. I’m not going back.” “Casey –” “I’m sure as hell not in the Voight business,” Matt added on his way out the door. “Never will be.” That night, all the companies at Firehouse 51 responded to a kitchen fire at a charity fundraiser in a corporate event hall. When the rigs pulled up, they found about a hundred people in tuxedos and full-length gowns milling around the parking lot, most of them on their cell phones. “I wonder how many sick kids’ surgeries they could have paid for instead of buying those outfits and renting a ballroom,” Otis commented as they unloaded their gear. “Not as many as you’d think,” Herrmann pointed out. “You wouldn’t believe how much they billed our insurance for Cindy’s c-section.” “Organizations make a lot more on these events than they spend,” Dawson informed them. “They’ll probably bring in millions tonight.” Matt eyed the smoke billowing from the building. “Maybe not tonight.” Since nobody knew exactly how many people were still inside, Truck and Squad both went in to search. Kelly, Rice, and Welch went up to the second floor, while Matt took Dawson, Herrmann, and Cruz to the kitchen. They found a couple of stragglers wandering around the smoke-filled hallway between the kitchen and the bathroom, and Cruz safely guided them outside. In the kitchen, Matt found one of the staff, a young East Asian man, pinned and unconscious on the floor. A fallen ventilation pipe had knocked over a tall shelf, trapping the man’s lower body. “Help me lift this,” he called to Herrmann, checking for signs of life. “He’s breathing, but there isn’t much worth breathing in here – Dawson, you pull him out while we hold this up.” While they worked, Kelly’s voice came over the radio. “We’ve got three victims unconscious on the second floor, we could use a hand.”  “They need a hand?” Herrmann echoed, sounding incredulous. Three members of Squad 3 should easily be able to evacuate three people. Matt shook his head, reaching for his radio. “You two got him?” he checked before responding to Kelly’s call. “Yes, Lieutenant,” Dawson confidently responded. Matt let Kelly and the chief know he was on his way, then made his way to the stairs. They fortunately weren’t too smoky, so it took him only seconds to reach Kelly and Welch. “Where’s Rice?” he asked, taking the third victim, whose floor-length dress wasn’t quite as singed as the one Kelly carried. Welch shook his head behind Kelly’s back, looking even more disgruntled than normal. “He saw someone by the bathroom on our way in, so I diverted him to take them outside,” Kelly explained, leading the way down the stairs. When Kelly hoisted the woman he was carrying, Matt caught a glimpse of angry red flesh above his right glove. “What happened to your arm?” he asked, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. “Fire,” Kelly answered. “Whatever the fuck these dresses are made of, it should be illegal. I had to beat the flames out of her skirt.” Gritting his teeth, Matt focused on getting the unconscious socialite outside. It looked like a minor burn, not even worth mentioning in Kelly’s memoir. Still, he didn’t know anyone who got hurt on the job quite so much. But then, most people took fewer stupid risks than Kelly. “Hey, sunshine,” Kelly greeted Matt in the locker room at the end of their shift. “That’s ‘Lt. Sunshine’ when we’re on shift,” Matt joked, peeling his gray polo off. “How’s your arm?” Kelly glanced down at the burn on his wrist like he’d forgotten it was there. “Oh, it’s fine. No big deal.” “Do you want to swing by a walk-in clinic on the way home?” Matt pointedly suggested. “Nah, I’m good,” Kelly declined. He swiped deodorant across his armpits, then handed Matt his keys. “Clarke’s on his way to pick me up, so you can take my car.” Matt roughly shoved his twinge of disappointment aside. This was their usual schedule, nothing to be surprised about. “Okay, cool. I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you put a fresh bandage on that burn before you leave.” Kelly quickly glanced over his shoulder, then rested a hand on Matt’s arm. “Or you could hang out with us this afternoon. I think we’re just going to visit the shooting range and maybe see a movie.” “A shooting range? Really?” Matt asked. Kelly grinned, shrugging. “I was surprised too, but I guess he’s in the mood to show off.” Matt hesitated for a second before he nodded. “If you don’t think he’d mind me tagging along… It sounds like fun.” Kelly slapped him on the shoulder and slammed his locker shut, then snatched the box from Nesbitt out of Matt’s. Before he could react, Kelly produced a folded sheet of paper and a wad of cash, both of which he slipped in Matt’s pocket. “Really?” Matt asked, not really that surprised. Feeling his pocket, he asked, “How much is this?” “$400. Put it in the house fund.” Matt gaped at him. “You had $400 cash with you on shift?” “I made Tony stop at an ATM on the way back from our last call,” Kelly explained, kneeling down to tie his shoes. “Oh, you mean when he should have been driving you to the hospital?” Matt teasingly badgered. There had never been any chance of that – Kelly Severide didn’t check into the ER for anything less than a broken bone or a third-degree burn. Smirking, Kelly held up the box. “Best medicine in the world.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Spending Christmas in a Catholic group home was an alien experience for Matt. The boys were encouraged but not forced to participate in an exhausting list of festivities, most of which centered around making other people feel better about themselves. Matt carefully avoided any activities that gave him even a whiff of feeling like a charity case, but he did sign up for a “service project” helping to decorate the courtyard. They wouldn’t let him climb the ladder to string Christmas lights on the roof line, but he put his construction skills to use wind-proofing the life-sized Nativity scene.

He skipped decorating the Christmas tree, hiding out in his room with a book while the staff and some of the younger residents hung the lights and ornaments. Most of the time, the staff pestered him into participating in things, but they let the boys decide how to observe the holiday. Matt expected most of them to be as disinterested as he was, but some who’d spent more time in the system lauded it as the best time of the year.

On the night of Christmas Eve, all the residents were invited to stay up late watching a Christmas movie and then attend Midnight Mass. The staff talked it up like the event of the year, but Matt embraced the opportunity to spend time alone in his room while his more religious roommate, Jason, attended church.

About twenty minutes into staring blankly at his library book without reading a word, a light knock on his door interrupted him. He quickly rolled off the bed and opened the door just a crack, checking to see who was there.

“Hey,” his friend Tyler whispered. “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Matt stepped back, glancing up and down the hall to make sure no one saw him letting someone inside his room. He closed the door behind his skinny dark-haired friend, then turned to face him with a questioning look.

A mischievous smile lighting up his light brown eyes, Tyler slipped a pint of vodka from the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas. Share this with me?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah, man. Come on.” Tyler hopped up on Matt’s bed and slid back against the wall, patting the spot beside him.

“Thanks,” Matt smiled, getting comfortable on the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything.”

Tyler shrugged, twisting the bottle open. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Maybe after a couple shots.”

Grinning, Tyler took the first shot, then passed the bottle to Matt. He gratefully accepted, excited to have his hands on something with more than 6% ABV. The cheap, lukewarm vodka may as well have been top-shelf. Matt closed his eyes, letting the alcohol take the sharp edge off his emotions while it warmed him from the inside out.

“Thanks, Ty,” he said softly, passing the bottle back and resting his head against the other boy’s shoulder. “This is nice.”

Tyler took another swig of vodka, then planted a kiss in Matt’s hair. “Most wonderful time of the goddamn year, right?”

The next morning, Matt woke up with his very first Christmas hangover. Nobody knocked on the door to wake them up that day, but despite going to bed after 2 a.m., his roommate was up and talking by 7.

“Merry Christmas!”

Matt groaned, pulling his blanket up over his face. Even if his head wasn’t pounding, he wouldn’t be interested in getting up at this hour on a day off from school.

“You okay, buddy?” Jason cheerfully asked, opening his dresser with a screech of scraping wood.

Groaning again, Matt lowered his blanket just far enough to peek out at the chipper dark-skinned teen. Like most of the boys, Jason had been in the system a lot longer than Matt – almost seven years, to be exact. He claimed to

like

living at the group home, saying it was better than any of his foster homes by miles. He was one of the nicest people Matt had ever met, but sometimes his optimism was exhausting.

“I just don’t feel so great,” he answered vaguely. “Merry Christmas, though.”

“Do you need the nurse?” the younger boy asked. “I can go get her.”

Matt quickly shook his head. “No, I think I just need more sleep.”

“Okay,” Jason said, sounding slightly skeptical. “Remember, we’re opening presents at 10 o’clock. Gonna be a lot of fun – you don’t want to miss it.”

Matt highly doubted that, but he didn’t have the heart to say no. “Yeah, okay. Set the alarm for 9:30 before you go?”

Jason nodded, adjusting the alarm clock on Matt’s dresser. “Sure. Do you want anything from breakfast?”

Matt thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Maybe an orange and some toast, if you don’t mind? Thanks, Jace.”

“You got it,” his roommate said brightly. “Sweet dreams.”

As soon as the door fell shut behind him, Matt rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket the rest of the way over his head. Curling up in the fetal position, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed his brain to go back to sleep. He didn’t want to think, and he sure as hell didn’t want to feel. He wished he could wrap himself in the soothing numbness from last night for the entire day.

A few minutes before 10:00, Matt finally drug himself out of bed and ate a few bites of toast. Leaving the orange on the dresser, he went to the bathroom and then made his way downstairs. Stacks of presents in mismatched wrapping paper were piled around the tree, and Matt could already smell ham cooking in the kitchen. Most of the boys in his dorm were gathered in the common room watching a Christmas parade on TV, and Matt quickly claimed the spot next to Tyler on the couch.

“Rough morning?” his friend asked lowly, keeping his eyes locked on the TV.

Matt shrugged. “Bit of a headache.”

He caught Tyler’s smirk in the corner of his eye. “I bet. I was impressed.”

Matt’s wry chuckle was cut off by the day staff entering the room, all of them wearing goofy outfits and wide, cheerful smiles. The house parents wore silly red and green elf hats, and even the nun who volunteered as a nurse had a festive string of lights around her neck.

Each boy had a stack of five packages to open. Most of the presents came from angel trees or other charity drives, but the staff made sure each resident ended up with the same number of gifts.

“Now, most of you know how this works,” the house mom announced. “You each get to open your gifts and decide what you want to keep. When everyone’s ready, we’ll do the swap. All swaps need to be approved by one of the staff, but you can make as many swaps as you want.”

“Your headache isn’t gonna get any better,” Tyler predicted.

Matt had been hoping for a Christmas nothing like the ones he spent at home, and that was what he got. The next hour was pure, unadulterated chaos, making Matt laugh so hard that for a few minutes, he almost forgot both his hangover and his grief. Some of the gifts themselves were funny – action figures and Lego sets for 15- to 17-year-old boys – but the bartering that took place was even better. Matt didn’t really feel like joining in the fray, but he did swap the soccer ball he opened for a Blackhawks hoodie that reminded him of his dad.

Once things quieted down, Matt slipped back upstairs. The excitement and endorphins quickly abated, leaving him feeling even more bleak than before. He took a quick shower and changed into his cozy new hoodie, then got back in bed.

Curled up in a quiet dorm room with his blanket from home, the grief Matt had been hiding from finally caught up. He tried not to let himself think about his family too much, but sometimes, the emptiness itself was more painful than his worst memories.

He couldn’t stop himself from trembling, and warm tears leaked from his eyes. He squeezed them shut, burying his face against the pillow, but nothing could stop the tears from coming now that they’d found their way out. His shoulders shook, and a sob slowly forced its way up his throat. Sniffling miserably, he focused on trying not to make any noise. Being heard crying like this would only cement everyone’s opinion that he was weak.

After about five minutes, the door opened and then closed as someone came in. Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Matt tried to be completely still.

“I know you’re awake,” Tyler informed him, coming to sit on the side of the bed.

“You can’t be in here,” Matt croaked, keeping his eyes tightly closed. “We’ll get caught.”

Ignoring his protests, Tyler gently pushed Matt towards the wall, then laid down behind him and wrapped one arm across his waist. Despite his better judgment, Matt leaned into his touch, welcoming the comforting warmth of another human in his bed.

“Probably. But it’s Christmas, you’re crying, and I don’t have any more vodka to give you – so you just go to sleep and let me worry about that. Okay?”

Matt sniffled, nodding. Just this once, he really didn’t want to be alone. It was probably stupid – they were almost certain to be found – but he couldn’t bring himself to turn his sort of-boyfriend away. “Okay. Thanks.”

Tyler pulled him closer, then placed a gentle kiss just below his ear. “It’s the worst day of the year. So just sleep. Tomorrow won’t be so bad.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When Jeff and Kelly picked Matt up a few hours after his shift, Kelly wore a hospital bracelet on his left arm, a bandage on his right arm, and a scowl on his face. He got out of the passenger’s seat when Matt approached the car, switching to the backseat without so much as a word of greeting.

“Am I stepping into the middle of something?” Matt asked, hesitating with his hand on the door.

Kelly shook his head, his posture relaxing slightly as he settled into the back. “Nah.”

“Yes,” Clarke answered frankly, betraying Kelly’s lie. “But I think we’re ready to move on.”

Everything in Matt wanted to go back upstairs and close the door, but he overrode his instincts and got in. Stony silence filled the small car, and Matt kept his eyes locked on the road ahead.

They’re fighting, and we’re about to go play with guns. Great.

After two blocks, Matt reluctantly cleared his throat. “So… you went to the hospital.”

Kelly huffed, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah. Now I have to be on light duty next shift because the burn could ‘impair my performance.’” His tone made it clear what he thought of that – Matt could practically hear the unspoken

“bullshit.”

“Ouch,” Matt sympathized, glancing sideways at Jeff, whose jaw remained tightly clenched. “Hey, at least you can work. Squad doesn’t get a call every shift, anyway.”

“But –” Kelly stopped himself mid-sentence, sighing with frustration. “Yeah. You’re right… you both are.”

“Have you had lunch?” Jeff asked Matt, changing the subject without comment. “We were going to stop somewhere and grab a bite.”

“Sounds good,” Matt readily agreed, even though he’d had a sandwich. A good meal could almost always boost Kelly’s mood.

They stopped at a diner, and Jeff immediately disappeared into the bathroom. Matt and Kelly sat at a booth along the back wall, Matt gently pushing Kelly towards the other side so Jeff could sit beside him.

“You alright?” he asked neutrally, sliding to the middle of his bench.

Kelly nodded, picking up his menu. “Yeah. As soon as he saw the burn, he started lecturing me about needing a paper trail for any on-the-job injuries and drove from the firehouse straight to the ER.” He cracked a smile. “It just wasn’t the start to the day I expected. But I’m ready to get over it. I know he’s not wrong, it’s just…”

Understanding where Kelly was coming from, Matt offered a slight smile. “I know you hate going to the hospital, but the rest of the day can still be fun. Are we still going to the gun range?”

Kelly flashed a grin, looking over his shoulder to make sure Jeff was still out of sight. “Yeah. I bet him I could out-shoot him, just to get on his nerves.”

Matt chuckled. “I assume you made a bet you won’t be sad to lose?”

Glancing at the father and daughter sitting two tables away, Kelly simply winked instead of spelling it out. Matt laughed again, shaking his head.

“You guys are ridiculous.”

Jeff reappeared, looking painfully nervous as he approached the table. His short ash brown hair stood up in the front, like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. Matt knew the feeling.

“Have you two never fought before?” Matt asked Kelly under his breath. It didn’t even sound like they’d had that much of a fight, but Clarke seemed to be expecting a firing squad to meet him at the table.

“Top drop,” Kelly answered simply, waving Jeff over with a welcoming smile.

“Oh,”

Matt mouthed, taking another look at his friend’s tense expression.

That made a lot of sense, now that he thought about it. Clarke exuded self-doubt in his day-to-day life, at least when they weren’t on a call. Matt knew firsthand the challenges of engaging in a battle of wills with Kelly, who could leave the most confident man in the world doubting himself. It was oddly reassuring to see that he wasn’t the only one left reeling even after winning an argument with the man.

Kelly put his arm around Jeff’s shoulders as he slid into the booth, giving him a side hug that verged on a tackle. Chuckling weakly, Jeff leaned into the embrace for just a moment, settling into a more typical dining-in-public position before the server came to take their orders.

“Thanks for looking out for our idiot sub,” Matt said once she left, shooting Kelly a knowing smirk. The idiot in question stuck out his tongue in return.

“Two words, Casey:

skull fracture.”

Matt’s neck flushed at the memory, but he laughed along with Jeff. Kelly had a point, but…

“Broken neck,”

he shot back.

Grinning, Kelly leaned back to rest his arm behind Jeff’s back, lightly tapping his shoulder. “It’s a good thing we have you now, babe.”

The three lieutenants spent a couple of hours at the shooting range. Guns weren’t exactly Matt’s favorite pastime, but he had fun watching Jeff show off. Kelly grew up hunting with Benny and his CFD buddies, but Jeff’s accuracy and precision put his best effort to shame.

Matt split off from Clarke and Kelly after the gun club, taking the train home instead of going with them to the movie theater. The awkwardness of their earlier fight disappeared by the time they placed their lunch orders, but Matt had a feeling they could use some one-on-one time. Making up after a stupid fight was always the best part.

He needed to pick up the last of his tools from Stilettos, and with any luck, he could get in and out before Nesbitt got there for the night. He figured he’d swing by Molly’s afterwards – it had been a while since his last appearance, and he felt unusually disconnected from his crew. He used to make a point of hanging out at the firefighter bar at least two or three nights a week, but since he got sober, he felt out of the loop on everybody’s lives.

He picked up his truck from the apartment, then drove to the club. To his relief, he found the lights off and the front door locked – it seemed no one was there. He let himself in through the service entrance in the back and quickly packed up his tools. The place gave him the creeps when it was empty, especially after what Voight said. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching his every move.

Matt blamed that train of thought for what happened next: the door behind him clicked open, and he flinched with surprise. Turning, he heard Katya’s giggle before he saw her face. She wore jeans and a simple black blouse, and her wavy blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck.

“So skittish,” she teased.

He smiled, ignoring the playful barb. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again.”

Katya’s smile disappeared, a more serious expression taking its place. “You decided not to take the job?”

Matt sighed, putting his tools aside for the moment to give her his full attention. “Yeah… About that. Look, Katya…”

She approached him, entering his personal space and putting a finger to his lips. “I get it. You already have an important job. It would be nice to have you around, but I understand.”

Despite her reassuring words, he could see the disappointment written across her face. Biting his lip, he put his hands on her arms, looking her in the eye.

“Katya,” he said quietly, earnestly. “Jack – I don’t think he’s the person he appears to be. You don’t have to work here, either. If something is stopping you from leaving…”

Her eyes widening, the young woman quickly shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Jack – He’s not the man you are, but he would never hurt anyone. Not on purpose.”

Voight’s words ringing in his mind, Matt studied Katya’s face. “Look… I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I was approached by the cops,” he confessed, keeping his voice as low as humanly possible. “They told me Jack’s into some ‘nasty business.’ Those were their exact words.”

Katya paled, and she glanced back over her shoulder, like she too thought someone might be listening in.

“Don’t,”

she emphatically whispered.

Matt’s mouth twisted into a grimace, and he nodded towards the door. “Do you want to come for an early dinner with me? We could go somewhere else and talk. I’ll have you back before your shift.”

Katya shook her head, taking a step back and looking down at the floor. “No. I should go.”

Stopping himself from catching her arm, Matt took his wallet from his pocket. “Here, at least let me give you my number,” he said, taking out a business card. “If you ever need

anything…”

Katya accepted the card with a tight smile and a tense nod. “Thanks, Matt. You’re a good man.”

“I’m serious, Katya,” he said in his best lieutenant’s voice. “If you get in any trouble, or if you want to talk – call me.”

After the movie, Kelly went with Jeff to his apartment. They’d made plans to meet up with Shay, Dawson, and Matt at Molly’s after dinner, but first, Kelly had some apologizing to do. Being forced to go to the hospital for his practically nonexistent injury lit his fuse, and it wasn’t until he saw Jeff’s defeated expression at the diner that he knew he took it too far.

Jeff didn’t even really “make him” go, in retrospect – he drove to the hospital and refused to drive away, but it wasn’t like he dragged him through the door. If some small part of him hadn’t known his boyfriend was right, he would have just walked home.

“What are you in the mood for?” Kelly asked once Jeff locked the door behind them, taking him by the hands. “I’m down for anything, as long as it makes you feel good.”

“Anything?” Clarke smirked, raising his eyebrow.

Kelly reconsidered, remembering that his dom identified as a sadist. “Anything we’ve done or discussed before,” he amended with a smile. “I already can’t work next shift, so we might as well take advantage of it.”

Jeff smiled, resting his hands on Kelly’s hips. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling soft today… so I’ll probably only make you cry a little.”

Rolling his eyes, Kelly welcomed his kiss, then buried his face against the soft skin of Jeff’s neck. “You’re welcome to try,” he murmured, half-hoping Jeff wouldn’t catch it.

His boyfriend snorted, shaking his head and taking a single step back. “C’mon. We need to get you out of those clothes and into something more comfortable… like a blindfold and a gag.”

“Hot,” Kelly commented, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m so glad I have your approval,” Jeff said sarcastically, sounding more like himself than he had all day. “Now

move.”

Suppressing a grin, Kelly started walking towards the bedroom. “Yes, sir.”

When Kelly and Jeff arrived at Molly’s a few hours later, they found Shay and most of the crew from 51 already there, but there was no sign of Matt. Taking advantage of his tardiness to enjoy a guilt-free drink, Kelly ordered a round of Scotch for himself and Clarke. He often stuck to non-alcoholic beverages in solidarity with Matt, so he enjoyed drinking whiskey when he got the chance.

“Hey, Severide,” Otis called out from the bar before he could take a seat.

“Yeah?” Kelly asked, leaning with one fist against the table at his side.

“How many more people have to get hurt before you do something about Scott Rice?”

The bar quieted, and Dawson fixed Otis with a glare. “Not now, Otis.”

Kelly shook his head, growing increasingly frustrated by the elevator guy’s love of drama. Otis had been making noise about Rice since the day he showed up at 51. First he spread rumors about Rice’s past, and once that played itself out, he moved on to other accusations. It was bullshit, and Kelly didn’t know why anyone else bothered to listen. Otis may have been family, but he didn’t know what his little sister saw in the guy.

“Hey, man, I’m just trying to enjoy a drink with my friends,” he said, being far more polite than he wanted. “You have a real concern about my men, come talk to me at work. Not here.”

“Oh, I think we have concerns about more than one of your men,” Otis responded.

Capp and Tony stood up from their table, ignoring Clarke’s gesture for them to sit still. “Hey, man,” Capp said warningly, taking a step in Otis’s direction.

Making eye contact with Dawson, Kelly snorted derisively and shook his head. “I think you need to cut him off, Dawson.”

“Really, Otis,” Dawson agreed, glaring daggers at the young Russian. “This isn’t the time.”

Otis slammed his beer glass on the counter, finally turning to look Kelly in the eye. “By the time he feels like listening, someone could be dead. Based on the way things are going, it’ll probably be him.”

Shay wheeled up behind Kelly, gently tapping his unbandaged wrist. “Hey. Ignore him. Come sit with me and Clarke.”

Kelly downed half his glass, then handed the rest to Shay. As much as he wanted to hang out with Shay and Jeff, he wasn’t in the mood to do it while being heckled by the B-team. “Have it. I’m outta here.”

“Kelly,” Shay said sharply, but he was already heading for the door.

Matt and Katya

both

flinched when the door of the back room opened again. Shoving Matt’s card in her back pocket, Katya ducked her head and fled the room, barely glancing up at Nesbitt as they passed.

“Hey, Matt,” Jack said, not sounding at all surprised by his unannounced presence.

“Hey, Jack,” Matt said in what he hoped was a casual tone. “I’m just here picking up the last of my tools, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Nesbitt approached him, keeping his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face. “I’m glad you dropped by. Did you get the box I sent over to your firehouse?”

Matt forced a smile. “Yeah. That was really generous of you – thanks.”

“Did you read my note?” Nesbitt asked, standing closer to Matt than he would have preferred.

Matt froze for a moment, only now remembering the slip of folded paper at the bottom of the box. He hadn’t bothered to open it before shoving the whole thing in his locker, and then Kelly took it…

“Was there a note?” he asked, playing dumb. “I haven’t actually taken the bottle out of the box yet.”

“Yeah,” Nesbitt confirmed, taking another step towards Matt, who quickly took a half-step back. He could smell bourbon on the ex-firefighter’s breath, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for whatever the hell he had in mind. “You should read it tonight.”

Chuckling uncomfortably, Matt turned to grab his toolbox. He heard Nesbitt move with him, but the hand that grabbed his wrist still caught him by surprise. Before he could process what was happening, the other man roughly turned him back around.

Matt’s heart skipped a beat, and he tried to yank himself free.

“Whoa,” Nesbitt laughed, taking his other arm, too. His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but Matt didn’t want to be touched at all. “Where you going, buddy?”

“I need to go meet my friends,” Matt explained, every sense on high alert. Looking down at Nesbitt’s hands, he asked, “What is this, Jack?”

“Have you thought any more about that job I offered you?” Nesbitt asked.

Matt nodded, managing to pull his arms away from Jack. He quickly picked up the toolbox, not giving Nesbitt another chance to take his wrist.

“Yeah… Look, Jack, I really appreciate the offer – but I have to say no. I have a lot going on in my personal life and at work, and I just don’t think I can commit to such a long-term project right now.”

Nesbitt’s expression darkened, and the hair on Matt’s neck stood up.

“I’d like you to reconsider,” Nesbitt informed him. “I really like having a CFD brother around. If it’s the pay, we can talk about that.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s not the pay. You’re more than generous. Frankly, it’s the time. I just can’t work to the scale that you need right now, and it wouldn’t be fair to any of my other commitments if I took this on.”

Before he recognized what was happening, Nesbitt’s hands were on his waist and he was coming in for a kiss. Matt stepped back, but Nesbitt followed, pushing his back against the wall.

“What are you–?”

“I’m not stupid, Matt,” Nesbitt growled, then forcefully pressed his lips against Matt’s mouth. Recoiling in disgust, Matt roughly shoved him away.

“I know the truth about you, Casey,” Nesbitt said darkly, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “You and your fellow Lieutenant – Severide, right? The CFD know you two are screwing on the job?”

Matt’s chest heaved, but he stood his ground. “Who I see on my own time is no business of the CFD’s. Or yours. But I

am

seeing someone, so

this…

it’s just never gonna happen, Jack.”

Nesbitt scoffed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have to hide yourself or your relationship for the sake of the job. It isn’t right.”

Is he trying to

sympathize

with me?!

Matt stared at the man, hardly able to believe they were having this conversation.

“Everyone important knows who I am,” Matt informed him, moving towards the exit without taking his eyes off Jack. “So whatever this is… Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.”

“Does Katya know?” Nesbitt asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve noticed how much time you’ve been spending with her.”

The pit in Matt’s stomach expanded again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Katya was unsafe here, and he wasn’t about to give anything away. Shrugging, he steeled himself to say something cold. “I don’t care what Katya knows. She’s not my problem.”

To his relief, Nesbitt let him leave, standing in place while Matt backed out the door. He wasted no time getting in his truck and driving away, putting distance between Nesbitt and himself until he could no longer feel the man’s eyes on his back.

After a few minutes of driving, he pulled over, his entire body shaking with adrenaline and his head starting to throb. He shut off the engine and buried his face in his hands, taking several slow, deep breaths.

“Oh, god,” he whispered, wiping his face. “So… that just happened.”

He almost texted Kelly, but remembering the anxiety written across Jeff’s face that morning, he put his phone away. Tonight, he would go have a club soda at Molly’s and pretend everything was fine. It might not make his hands stop shaking, but the company of his people could make up for a lot. He would vent to Kelly in the morning.

Looking up at his surroundings, a burst of giggles took Matt by surprise. Entirely by accident, he’d parked less than 20 feet from a hole-in-the-wall liquor store. Feeling his headache quickly getting worse, he opened the glovebox and fished half a Percocet from the bottom of the bottle.

Four left.

He rubbed his forehead for another couple of minutes, willing his heart rate to slow. Once he felt more in control of his body – although with knees as weak as if he’d worked a 50-story high-rise fire – he opened the door. Almost robotically, he got out of his truck and walked to the entrance of the liquor store.

Just something to take the edge off my nerves,

he told himself.

I’m in control of how much I drink.

Avoiding eye contact with the only other customer inside, he grabbed the first pint of vodka he saw and took it to the counter. The clerk didn’t speak to him while he paid, wordlessly putting the bottle in a plain brown paper bag.

Matt put that, too, in the glovebox before starting his truck, resisting the temptation to drink it then and there. Reluctantly, he drove to Molly’s instead of going home, making sure he parked well out of sight of both the bar and Clarke’s apartment. He couldn’t drink inside, but he couldn’t bear the thought of sitting through the evening there without a little buzz.

Putting his keys in his pocket, Matt furtively unscrewed the bottle and held it to his lips. He kept an eye out while he drank, not wanting to be seen by his friends or anyone else. Out of principle, he only drained two-thirds of the vodka, then tightly closed the bottle and hid it away again. He was still proving to himself that he could drink in moderation, so he would pour the rest out later. Once he gained more confidence, he’d talk to Kelly about it, but for now, he would keep this little experiment a secret.

Feeling much steadier, he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror. He fixed his slightly ruffled hair, then popped one of the breath mints he kept in the console. Exhaling slowly, he got out of the truck, pasting a pleasant smile on his face as he walked down the street. Matt was ready to put everything to do with Jack Nesbitt behind him and have a good night out with his friends.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

By mid-February, Matt was settling into his life at the group home. He remained on the outskirts with the other residents, distrusted for being so new to their world. While most of them grew up in and out of shelters, foster care, group homes, and juvie, Matt played lacrosse at a private school. The new friends he did have were loyal, though, and he was finally regaining his sense of optimism. He had 95 days until high school graduation, after which he would move into an apartment and start his construction apprenticeship. It wasn’t the start to adulthood he envisioned, but he was determined not to let the worst moment of his life define his entire future. With some tag-team nagging from his high school guidance counselor and the staff at his group home, he decided to take advantage of his “foster kid” scholarship to sign up for a basic EMT course at a local community college. Now that he lacked the financial safety net of a family, he was mindful of the need to hedge his bets. Whether or not he got into the CFD when he turned 21, he would have two solid career options to fall back on. Dropping his backpack off in his room after school one day, Matt found two of the staff coming out of Tyler’s room with a cardboard box. “Uh, what’s going on?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. Looking through the doorway behind them, he saw that the blankets had been stripped from Tyler’s bed, and the posters were missing from his wall. The staff exchanged uncomfortable glances with each other, avoiding eye contact with Matt. “Tyler was moved to a higher level of care today,” one of them finally said, seeing that Matt wasn’t going to walk away. “He might be able to come back in a few weeks, but for now, he’s in a facility where he can receive more services and supervision.” Matt’s stomach sank. “What? Why?” “We can’t tell you personal information about another resident,” they reminded him. Biting his lip, Matt turned away and continued down the hall to his room. He found Jason on the floor with a CD player, headphones, and an algebra textbook, chewing on the end of a mechanical pencil. “Hey,” Jason greeted him, taking the headphones off and setting them aside. “Did you hear about Tyler?” Matt quickly shut the door, not wanting anyone to hear them talking about his boyfriend. “Um, yeah. Do you know what happened?” Jason nodded. He and Tyler went to the same school, closer to campus than Matt’s. When he switched into public school mid-year, they had to send him where they had an opening, which meant a longer commute to and from school every day. Eyeing his tight-lipped roommate with suspicion, Matt kicked off his gym shoes and joined him on the floor. “Tell me.” Jason rubbed his neck, cringing. “Okay, yeah. Um, Tyler got busted buying pot from another kid at lunch. They… Well, they arrested him. But I heard that the cop said they were just taking him to juvie. It’s his first arrest.” Fighting a wave of nausea, Matt gulped and clenched his fists against his sides. “Oh.” Jason frowned, looking down at the thin beige carpet. “I know you guys are… friends. I’m sorry.” Shaking his head, Matt leaned back against the side of his bed and pulled his knees up to his chest. He slowly exhaled, struggling to process all the emotions running through his head. “He’s my boyfriend,” he impulsively confessed, the knot in his chest growing even tighter. He didn’t trust many people with his secrets, but if Tyler was gone just like that… on a primal level, he wanted to wreck something, even if it was just his friendship with his roommate. To his relief, however, Jason’s expression didn’t change. “I thought so,” he said, then hurriedly added, “I don’t think anyone else had any idea, though.” Matt nodded slowly, chewing on his bottom lip. “Does it freak you out?” Jason tipped his head, confused. “Huh? Does what freak me out?” Tears flooded Matt’s eyes, and he slowly shook his head. “Me… liking guys,” he said uncomfortably, picking at a small stain on the carpet. “No. Why should it?” Matt shrugged, pulling his lip between his teeth hard enough to hurt. Jason sighed. “Look, we all have our shit, right? You had a girlfriend before, but it’s not like they make it easy for us to see girls outside of school while we’re living here. Tyler was here. He cares about you. He made you a little bit happier after you lost everything. It’s not like you’re never going to date a girl again. It was about companionship. Nothing wrong with that.” Matt exhaled, closing his eyes. That wasn’t really how he felt, but it was close enough. Jason didn’t need to know how deep his feelings for Tyler ran, or that he was his first. Yes, it was true that he had a girlfriend at his old school, but his affection for her paled in comparison to the passion he felt with Tyler. Amanda was a good girl, the perfect person to take to school dances and dinner with his mom. But they never had sex, and in the face of everything else he lost, he hardly missed her at all. Tyler, on the other hand, brought him back to life, helping him embrace every scrap of joy he could find. He wouldn’t say he was in love with him, but it was much more than just companionship. “What’s going to happen to him?” he asked. “A judge will decide whether he has to stay in juvie or if he can be moved to another facility. You know how there are different levels of group homes, right?” Matt nodded. “He’ll probably go to a ‘therapeutic’ group home. It’s basically a lockdown facility with special behavioral programs and daily group therapy. They have teachers come in instead of going to school, and you can only have visitors on special family visit days. I was in one for three months after the third time I ran away. They’re not really that bad, you just don’t have much freedom.” Matt rubbed his forehead, frowning. “I’m never going to see him again, am I?” Jason pressed his lips together for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. It’s a small world. You both graduate this year, so you might end up in transitional housing together. Or you could look him up.” Before they could talk about it any longer, they were called downstairs for a house meeting. The staff may not have been allowed to tell them what happened with Tyler, but that didn’t stop them from gathering all the residents for a very specific lecture about the danger of doing drugs.They were warned of consequences ranging from years in prison to dying of an overdose, as if smoking a joint branded someone a hardcore addict. Matt’s neck flushed hot with a blend of grief, embarrassment, and anger, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the floor. Tyler was hardly a hardened criminal. If he lived at any other address, the school never would have called the cops. Matt knew kids at his private school who did acid on the weekends, and no one would dream of arresting them. The consequences of everything were harsher once you were in the system, with no safety net and surrounded by people who assumed the worst about you. Matt learned that fast when he started at his new school. Everyone had seen his father’s murder in the news, so they thought they knew all there was to know about him. Some people pitied him, and nearly everyone avoided him. He sat alone at lunch, too much of a boy scout for the group home kids and too infamous for everyone else. The guidance counselor put him in all the easiest classes, ignoring how well he’d done in math and science before. At one point in his life, he might have appreciated the lowered expectations, but he bristled at being underestimated. That evening, he doodled in his notebook instead of working trigonometry problems. He wanted to be numb, but the shock and righteous anger he felt earlier gave way to a hollow, aching pit. He sketched what he was feeling – a sinkhole in his belly, consuming him from the inside out. It ate away at him more often than not, lately. As hopeful as he was about his plans for the future, he couldn’t help his anxious nature. Everyone he loved was gone, and he was trapped in a system where there was no room for error, no second chances when they made a mistake. Where cops, judges, and violence stole people away with no chance to say goodbye. There was never any closure, just more heartbreak around every corner. He couldn’t stop waiting for the next shoe to drop. When the bedroom door opened, interrupting his brooding, Matt didn’t bother to look up. “Hey,” Jason said quietly, closing the door. “I… Um, I have something for you.” Matt sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Hey.” Settling onto the floor beside him, Jason opened his bookbag and withdrew a familiar well-worn red sketchbook. “Tyler’s sketchbook,” Matt identified, accepting it with wide-eyed shock. “Why do you have this?” “He left it in his classroom before…” Jason swallowed uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the side. “Um, Darien ended up with it, and he gave it to me. I thought you might want to keep it.” Matt traced his finger over the creases on the cover. “Yeah. Thanks.” Jason smiled. “I have something else for you, too. Here.” He quickly passed Matt a small brown paper bag, nervously watching the door. “Oh,” Matt gasped, hurriedly tucking it under his bed. “Damn. Thanks, man.” Jason shrugged. “I know he would bring you liquor when you had a bad day. This was a one-time deal – I ain’t going to juvie, so you’re on your own from now on. But I bought this from Darien.” “Thanks,” Matt repeated. “I’ll pay you back on Friday.” Jason shook his head. “Don’t be an idiot, man. You don’t pay someone back for a gift. Just do me a solid by not getting caught. You’re the only roommate I ever had who don’t snore.” Chuckling, Matt wiped the corners of his eyes. “That’s good to know. And I’ll do my best. I’m going to miss Ty, but I don’t want to follow him.” Jason nodded, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna head to Mass. You wanna come with me? You’re always welcome.” Matt shook his head, smiling weakly. “No, thanks. I think I’ll go ahead and get rid of the evidence of your sins while you’re out.” His roommate snorted with laughter, turning his back while he changed from his UIC sweatshirt to one of the button-downs he wore to church. “Okay, brother. Have a good night.” “You too, buddy,” Matt smiled. Gathering a change of clothing so he could go enjoy his liquor in the privacy of the shower, Matt already felt calmer. Just knowing a shot of relief was on its way took the edge off his nerves. It wouldn’t be much, but even slightly less pain would be a godsend.  Things will get better, he told himself. This is just for a few more months.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

By the time Matt got to Molly’s on Monday night, Kelly and Clarke were long gone. He couldn’t drive home until he sobered up, so in the meantime, he had a heart-to-heart with Otis and Cruz about antagonizing Severide. Historically, Matt hadn’t always been the best example in that regard – which meant he knew how badly it could end. He reminded them of that, emphasizing the stupidity of confronting a coworker in a bar. There was a time and a place for those conversations, and his men should know better. When he finally made it home, he sat down in front of ESPN with a bottle of Gatorade, wishing it was beer. That only lasted 45 minutes before he turned the TV off and went to bed. He woke the next morning to the sound of Kelly coming home, calling out in greeting as he slammed the front door. “Hey, babe,” Matt called back, slowly sitting up. Letting the blanket pool around his waist, he yawned and rubbed his eyes.  “Hey,” Kelly said a second time, appearing in the bedroom doorway with a frown on his face. He came to plop down on the side of the bed, putting a hand on Matt’s quilt-covered knee. “You alright?” Matt asked with concern, placing his hand on top of Kelly’s. Kelly shrugged, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah. Just work stuff.” “Rice?” Matt asked neutrally. Kelly sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “And Welch. Just… my team in general. I don’t know if I can trust my own judgment anymore, Matt.” “Why’s that?” Matt asked, setting aside his own desire to vent about Jack Nesbitt. He would wait to tell Kelly about their run-in when his mood was less explosive. Kissing someone else wasn’t a problem in their relationship – Kelly had a whole other boyfriend. But once he heard about the way it went down, he would be out for blood. The last thing Matt needed was for his boyfriend to march down to Stiletto’s and lay Nesbitt out. Cringing, Kelly shrugged again. He stared off into space for nearly a minute, idly rubbing Matt’s knee. “Hadley,” he finally answered, dropping the name so unexpectedly that Matt nearly missed it. “Hadley?” he echoed. “Kevin Hadley?” Kelly raised his eyebrows. “You know another Hadley?” Matt nodded. “Yeah, one of the girls Hallie went to med school with,” he said seriously. “She was pretty hot. Even Hallie thought so. Way too intense for me, though.” He was gratified to see Kelly crack a tiny smile. “Okay. Gonna need you to show me a picture later, but no – not talking about her.” “Okay, I’m with you,” Matt said agreeably. “Kevin Hadley. What about him?” “I liked him,” Kelly confessed. His smile disappeared, and he looked back up at the ceiling. “I knew he was an asshole, but I thought it was like… Lots of first responders get hardened. He would say some fucked up shit, but I thought it was just for shock value, you know? He was great at the job, and I trusted him with my life – with your life.” Nodding, Matt pried Kelly’s hand free of the blanket and gave it a firm squeeze. “I trusted him, too. So did Boden. It wasn’t just you who missed it. He was a psychopath. That’s what they do.” Kelly sighed. “I hear that. I do. But now…” Offering him a reassuring smile, Matt pushed the blanket aside. “You don’t think Rice is a serial killer, do you?” he teased. Kelly rolled his eyes. “No.” Matt leaned over to kiss his cheek, then got to his feet. “Then you’ve got this. Let’s talk it out over breakfast. Tell me everything you’re thinking, and I’ll help you figure out what you want to do next. Have you eaten?” Kelly shook his head. “Nah… Just a cup of that cheap coffee Clarke buys.” “Ew,” Matt sympathized, though he’d never had coffee at Jeff’s place. “Go start a pot of the good stuff, and I’ll come make omelets after I hit the head.” “You’re not gonna shower without me, are you?” Kelly checked. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Matt assured him with a smirk. He quickly used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and washed his face, then joined Kelly in the kitchen. The non-stick frying pan and a bowl were waiting on the counter, and Kelly was pouring coffee in his favorite mug. “You want creamer?” Kelly offered. “Nah,” Matt answered, gratefully accepting the black coffee and taking a sip. Setting that aside, he got started on breakfast and waved for Kelly to take a seat. “Talk to me about your Squad.” Standing next to one of the bar stools, Kelly leaned against the counter. “Ugh,” he said, rubbing his neck. “I think I really screwed up, Matt. And I don’t know how to fix it.” “What’s going on?” “Even Capp and Tony think Rice is ducking. They said they’re pretty sure he lied about an equipment malfunction before I came back to work.” Matt nodded slowly. He’d had his own suspicions for weeks, but he tried to keep his nose out of Squad 3’s business. He had his team, and Kelly had his – clear divisions were how they made it work. “Do you have any idea why he might be doing that?” he asked. Kelly grunted. “Not really… Does it matter?” Keeping his back to Kelly, Matt raised his eyebrow. Of course it mattered. “I mean, yeah… If you can get to the root of the problem, maybe you can help him fix it.” Kelly sighed. “I was trying to figure out how to fire him without losing my 5-man Squad.” Shaking his head, Matt finished pouring the eggs into the skillet, then turned to face his boyfriend. “I mean this in the kindest way possible, Kelly… but you don’t have to throw people away because they make a mistake. We’ve both been given opportunities for redemption that we probably didn’t deserve.” Kelly nodded slowly, tipping his head as he considered Matt’s words. Matt continued, “If I was Rice’s lieutenant, I would sit down with him tomorrow and have a heart-to-heart. See if I could help him work through whatever it is that’s getting between him and his potential to be a valuable member of your team. And then I’d probably suspend his ass.” Kelly chuckled softly. “Yeah… Definitely can’t whoop it. As satisfying as that might be.” Laughing, Matt turned back to the eggs. “No, that’s just for us.” Kelly was silent for a few minutes, but as he was setting out forks, napkins, and a bottle of hot sauce, he cautiously cleared his throat. “Um, if I do have to let Rice go… Would it be a problem for us if I poached Cruz?” Matt sighed with resignation. “No, that ship already sailed. If he doesn’t land on your squad, he’ll get transferred to someone else’s before long. At least Dawson wraps up her probationary year next month – I’ll be eligible to take on a new candidate from the January class. And when I do, you are not allowed to look at them.”  Kelly laughed, holding up his hands. “Deal. And hey – I promise never to poach Otis, Herrmann, or Mouch. So we’re good for a few years.” “Or Dawson,” Matt warned him, narrowing his eyes. Kelly’s eyebrows knitted together, and he frowned. “I’ve never even thought about a woman working squad. I don’t think there’s ever been one.” Grinning, Matt took a seat at the counter. “Don’t tell Dawson that. You know how she feels about being told she can’t do something.” “She’s way too small,” Kelly said dismissively. “She’s a rockstar on Truck, but she can barely lift someone her own size, let alone a 250 pound man. Maybe someone like Stella.” “You think Stella could lift a 250 pound man?” Matt asked, hiding his smile behind his coffee.  Recognizing the hint of teasing in his tone, Kelly narrowed his eyes. “Probably not today. But after hitting the gym for a few months, maybe.” “I dare you to tell her that at our meeting this week.” Kelly quickly shook his head. “No way in Hell. I don’t have a death wish. At least, not anymore.” Starting his shift the next day, Kelly still wasn’t sure how exactly to deal with Rice. Nobody had any definitive proof that he was ducking, so he didn’t want to go in guns blazing. Those who’d spent six weeks working alongside him while Kelly was laid up seemed pretty sure of their assessment, but it could all be a series of unlikely coincidences. Equipment malfunctions, misunderstanding orders, seeing ghosts in the smoke – it all happened. But even he had to admit they probably didn’t all happen in one week. Not being able to go on calls that shift really ground his gears. He wanted to see Rice in action, to either confirm or – he hoped – deny the rumors with his own eyes. The burn on his wrist didn’t even hurt anymore, and it probably wouldn’t scar. He knew better than to argue with Boden about the restriction, though – he was on thin enough ice for going to the hospital after his last shift instead of during. “We’re doing drills,” he snapped at his men the moment their morning briefing ended. If he couldn’t go to a call, he’d bring the call to them. “Come help me set up.” He strode towards the yard without waiting for a response, ignoring his coworkers’ bewildered expressions. Welch, he did notice, leapt into action with a demeanor one might even describe as “cheerful.” The man was a good argument for Clarke’s theory that “three months in that nuthouse” would inevitably change someone’s life – his transformation since coming to 51 was remarkable. “Got any new puppy pictures?” Kelly asked him, opening the door to the app bay. Welch nodded, taking his phone from his pocket. “Yeah. You guys decided you want one of the girls, yeah?” “Mm-hmm,” Kelly confirmed. The puppies were two weeks from being ready to come home, and Clarke had three books on dog training on his nightstand. (He answered Kelly’s comment that the puppy better be at least as well-trained as he was with a threat to buy them matching collars. Kelly had no idea if he was serious.) “I think the red and white one is the smartest,” Welch commented, showing him the latest pictures. “But her face is the most pit bull shaped.” Kelly shrugged. “As far as our landlords need to know, she’s part Jack Russell, part Labrador Retriever. We’re firefighters with good credit. It’ll be fine.” The bell went off while they were setting up for a Denver Drill. Kelly groaned with frustration when he heard the call – all four rigs were responding to a collision on the Roosevelt Road Bridge. He sent his men off with a knock to the back of the squad, then shot Chief Boden an appeasing smile. “I’ll just be here chilling on the couch, making sure my arm doesn’t fall off. Keep an eye on them for me.” “If you’re bored, you could try doing some paperwork,” Boden wryly suggested, opening the door of his SUV. “I’m good,” Kelly smirked, waving him off. “You’re trouble,” Boden sighed, shaking his head. Kelly stashed his gear in the storage room, then wandered to the common room. He made a fresh pot of coffee and poured two mugs, one of which he took down to Connie in the bullpen. “So… What’s the hot gossip?” he asked, leaning against her desk. Connie scoffed, shaking her head. “You know how I feel about gossip, Severide.” Kelly withdrew the sugar packets in his back pocket, offering them up in exchange. “How about now?” The chief’s assistant rolled her eyes, but she started talking while stirring the sugar into her coffee. “Well, everyone on 1st Shift is convinced Lt. Clarke is seeing someone in the firehouse.” Kelly raised his eyebrows. “Really?” Connie nodded. “Mm- hmm.”  “Who do they think it is?” “None of them can figure it out,” Connie explained. “And with him being bisexual, there are a lot of options.” Kelly couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter, but he quickly regained his self-control. “That’s interesting. Do you have any theories?” Connie shook her head, turning back to her work. “I don’t need theories. I have eyes.” Kelly studied her for a moment, then shrugged. Patting Connie on the shoulder, he said, “Buy me a drink sometime and I’ll tell you all about it.” “Speaking of, I’d like to buy you a drink and have a word about your boyfriend.” Kelly almost dropped his coffee at the sound of Hank Voight’s voice in the doorway. Gaping, he turned to face him, setting his mug on the desk.  “Excuse me?” He could hardly believe Voight just said that – in front of Connie, of all people. It was one thing to make thinly veiled jokes, but quite another to barge into his workplace talking about “his boyfriend.”  Voight nodded towards the exit. “We need to talk.” Kelly worked his jaw, forcing his fingers not to form a fist. “Fine. But that was way out of line.” He took Voight to the briefing room, slamming the door behind them. “Well?” he asked sharply, crossing his arms. “Jack Nesbitt is involved in a human trafficking ring,” Voight said bluntly. Apparently, he was tired of playing games – or at least ready to lay his cards on the table. “We need to take this bastard down, and Casey is our best chance of building a case. I need you to talk to him.” Kelly pursed his lips, slowly shaking his head. “‘My boyfriend’ doesn’t need this in his life right now, Voight. I’m sorry you’re having trouble building your case, but Casey is not your answer. He saves lives every day. You don’t get to come around here guilt-tripping him into doing your part, too. Find another way.” “What about you?” Voight asked, putting his hands in his pockets. Kelly scoffed. “What about me?” “You could wear a wire, go have a conversation with Nesbitt. See where it goes.” “You’re out of your mind,” Kelly informed him. “I know he gave your boyfriend a nice bottle of bourbon. What do you think that was all about?” “How about you go do your job, and we’ll do ours?” Kelly suggested, taking a step closer to the cop. “‘Cause this – this isn’t going to get you anywhere you want to go.” “Hey, Severide, we all have a responsibility to this city,” Voight said harshly. “And don’t forget, it’s a former CFD firefighter who’s selling women out of his club. This should be as much of a problem for you and Casey as it is for us.” Kelly shook his head with disgust, turning towards the door. “I’ll tell Casey you dropped by. Don’t call us, we’ll call you – if we decide we can help.” When Truck and Squad returned from their call, they were missing Matt. “Uh…?” Kelly prodded Welch, the first to join him at the squad table. “Where’s Lt. Casey?” “Hospital,” Welch answered bluntly. “He’ll be alright. Just banged his shoulder – Chief made him go get checked out.” Kelly bit his lip, fighting the instinct to jump out of his seat. “What happened?” Welch looked pointedly at Rice, who continued inside without so much as glancing at Kelly. “He happened. Look, man, I was a lieutenant. I know it’s not easy to come down on someone without proof, especially when he’s your buddy. But your buddy is a liability.” “What happened?” Kelly patiently repeated. “Hey, Capp, Tony – c’mere.” It took some prying, but between the three of them, he managed to piece the story together. As they told it, Squad was supposed to be securing a box truck while Matt and Cruz extracted the injured, combative driver. Rice failed to put the cribbing in place as Boden ordered, and Matt took a hard fall on his left shoulder when the truck lurched. “Just glad he was wearing a helmet,” Capp pointed out. “Casey doesn’t need any more head injuries.” “Ha-ha,” Kelly said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I want all three of you to write reports on what happened and submit them to me directly. Before 5:00. It doesn’t need to be anything formal, just a written account of what you observed on this call.” Leaving them, he walked past the common room, where Truck appeared to be planning some kind of vigilante firehouse justice, and continued to Chief Boden’s office. He let himself in without waiting for permission, and Connie didn’t bother trying to stop him. “Severide,” Boden greeted him flatly, not at all surprised. Kelly closed the door, then rested his hands on the back of the chair in front of Boden’s desk. “Rice.” Boden raised his eyebrows, closing his journal and leaning back in his chair. “Yes?” Sighing, Kelly wiped his brow. “I know what you’re gonna say as my boss – I’m the lieutenant, and it’s my job to deal with the men on my squad. And look, I appreciate that. But you’re not just my boss – you’re my mentor. So I’m asking you not to give me any bull. If you were Rice’s lieutenant, what would you do?” Boden nodded, motioning for him to sit. “Take a seat, Kelly. I’m glad you asked.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The morning of Matt’s high school graduation, the weather suited his mood. It rained all morning with an occasional clap of thunder, but the sun found spots to shine through the clouds. Because of the rain, the ceremony was held on an indoor basketball court, and each graduate was limited to two guests. While his classmates complained about that restriction, Matt stood silently, staring at the shoes peeking out beneath his brick red gown. As he expected, neither Christie nor his aunt and uncle could make it, and he had nobody else to invite. The only person he felt close to was his roommate, and DCFS scheduled Jason’s monthly visit with his siblings for that morning – Matt couldn’t ask him to skip that. Matt wasn’t even sure if the priest from his group home who drove him to the ceremony would sit in the bleachers and watch. Graduation, it turned out, involved a whole lot of sitting around while self-important people gave speeches from a makeshift stage in the middle of a basketball court. The graduating class filed in while the marching band played what Matt assumed must be the high school fight song – he wouldn’t know. He’d never gone to any of their football games, but based on their record, that was no great loss. While his classmates waved and smiled for their parents’ cameras, Matt stared blankly at the back of the student in front of him. He imagined himself as invisible sometimes, and it seemed to work on other people, too. He wondered if he would even show up in the background of their photos. Maybe the cameras would miss him, too. Once they were seated, they had to sit through nearly an hour of rambling, cliché-filled speeches from the high school principal, the valedictorian, the senior class president, a semi-successful businessman alumnus, and (to Matt’s amusement) the captain of the football team. Letting his mind wander, Matt tuned out the linebacker’s long-winded story about their team’s losing season. He might have been more invested in the nostalgia if he shared in their memories, but he barely knew these people. By the time they started calling the graduates up in groups of 20 to receive their diplomas and pose for pictures, Matt was completely zoned out. In a haze of dissociation, he obediently lined up between the end of the B-names and the start of the Cs. One by one, the students in front of him stepped onto the makeshift stage, shook hands with the faculty, and turned to pose for photos while their friends and family cheered. In his fog, Matt barely registered the sound of shouts and applause until his own name was called… and the noise died down. Heat rising on his cheeks, Matt hurried across the stage, barely pausing long enough to be handed his diploma. Once he had it in hand, there was a polite smattering of applause – teachers, he assumed. That only made it more awkward, driving home his status as a charity case. Ducking his head, he made his escape from the spotlight and returned to the anonymity of his seat. His face burned with embarrassment long after the ceremony moved on. The day after his graduation, Matt finally got to move out of the group home. Thanks to a collaboration between the state and the charity that ran his group home, he was able to move into “transitional housing” – a studio apartment in the Lower West Side – with vouchers to help with the rent. As long as he maintained his employment, completed the EMT course he’d signed up for, and stayed out of trouble, he could live there until he turned 21. Jason and one of the other boys from their dorm helped him with his move. Fortunately, he didn’t have much to pack, so it only took one trip on the L-train. His apartment wasn’t far from the station, which would be great while he saved up to buy a truck. “Here we go,” Matt announced when they reached his apartment on the third floor. “Home sweet home.” He unlocked and opened the door, ushering his friends inside. “Oh, this is… um…” Jason stuttered, looking around the room. They had a clear view of the whole apartment from the door – it was all one room, with a fridge, stove, and sink on one side and his mattress on the other. The bathroom was the size of his closet at the group home, with just a toilet and a shower stall – not even a sink. “Tiny?” Matt grinned, putting the box in his arms next to his mattress on the floor. The Catholic charity donated that, a small round table, and two folding chairs to get him started with furniture for his new home. That was about all that would fit. “It’s bigger than my sister’s college dorm, anyway. And I’ve got a gas stove.” “Gotta lotta locks, too,” Jason pointed out, eyeing the lock and two deadbolts on the front door. The locks themselves looked secure, but Matt was pretty sure a determined toddler could kick the door off its hinges. Matt shrugged, unconcerned. “Gotta keep all my valuables safe, y’know?” His mother would have hated the place, but people who shot their co-parents didn’t get a vote on where their children lived. The apartment may have been small, poorly-lit, and questionably safe for occupancy, but it was his. For the first time in his life, he had a place where he could be himself, with no fear of who might be watching. A roach or two seemed a small price to pay… but he would be cleaning behind the appliances before bedtime, regardless. That night, Matt took advantage of his newfound freedom by going out to buy a six-pack by way of the front door, instead of having to sneak out. Although it was still illegal to buy alcohol at 18, once he had it, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught. He didn’t need to walk far to come across a shady convenience store. His first approach was always to play innocent, which was what he did best. “Those baby blue eyes will get you far in life,” his mother used to say. She was right. To his relief, the cashier barely glanced at him when he laid his cash on the counter. He didn’t get any change for his $10 bill, but he did get six bottles of beer with no hassle. He hurried back around the corner to his apartment, slightly nervous about being stopped by the police. It was a short walk home, though, and the cops in this neighborhood probably had bigger fish to fry. Sitting on the edge of his mattress with his legs stretched out across the floor, Matt opened the first bottle of beer. Behind closed doors and in his very own space, he gave a long, contented sigh. He usually spent the whole time he was drinking looking over his shoulder, but this time, he could relax. For the first time in months, he felt completely safe. Halfway through the bottle, he decided to do some unpacking. In addition to the trash bag full of clothing he had nowhere to unpack for now, he just had three cardboard boxes and his dad’s tools. One box held cookware and other household essentials he’d had the forethought to take with him when leaving his childhood home before the funeral. It wasn’t much, but he was probably the only 18-year-old in the city with a Kitchen-Aid mixer. In the second box, he had his personal belongings – a modest stack of books, an old Game Boy with long-dead batteries, a couple of lacrosse trophies, half a dozen hacky sacks, a Discman, and some CDs. None of it seemed important, but he was sure he’d be glad of the books now that he lived alone in a place with no TV. The third box contained mementos. He’d taken two photo albums and some framed family photos from his house, plus a couple of things to remind him of his parents. He also kept Tyler’s sketchbook in there, and he took that out now, leaving it on the mattress. He hadn’t really looked through it yet – just enough to realize it contained written notes as well as drawings. He didn’t want anyone else at the group home to find those, so he rarely took it out of the box. After some consideration, he also selected a picture his mom used to keep on the mantel, which he liberated when she started throwing things out after the separation. It was a photo of him and his dad, taken on a camping trip when he was 9 or 10. He placed that on top of the box, setting it up by the mattress like a nightstand. He needed to buy a lamp and an alarm clock… and, he realized as he glanced around the room, paper and a pencil to make a shopping list. Putting that aside for the moment, he focused on the matter at hand. “Hey, Dad,” he said to the photo, feeling a little bit silly. No one was there to see him, though, so he gave himself permission to be weird. He opened a second beer bottle and clinked its mouth against the frame. “I know you’d be pissed that I’m drinking, but I’m going to have a beer with you anyway.” He took a long gulp of his beer and closed his eyes, riding the wave of relief. After a minute or two, he sighed, looking back up at his dad. “Today I moved into my own apartment, and tomorrow is my first day working construction full-time. I want to pretend you’d be proud of me. I know better, though. The last thing you ever said to me was that you would have been better off with no son at all.” The memory didn’t hold the same power as it did nine months ago, but tears still flooded his eyes. He wiped them dry with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, adding “tissues” to his mental shopping list. “You were right, you know. If it wasn’t for me, you would probably still be alive. Mom wouldn’t have broken into your house if she hadn’t seen my key on the table. I’m so sorry for that.” He took another drink, nearly draining the bottle. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make you proud. For 17 years, that was all I wanted. But after this year, I think I want something else even more.” Setting his beer on the floor, he looked his father’s image square in the eye. “I’m going to do better than you. I want to build a life I can be proud of, no matter what you would think. My wife won’t secretly hate me, and my kids won’t run and hide when they see me stumbling home from the bar. I’m going to make the world a better place, whether that’s as a fireman, a medic, or something else. My friends will be good people like Jason… and yeah, he’s Black. I spent eight months living with a Black guy who calls me ‘brother,’ and he treated me more like family than you ever did.” He rarely allowed himself to be mad at his father, even before he died – but the more he talked, the angrier he became. For once, he didn’t try to hold it back. He didn’t believe in an afterlife or ghosts, but his whole life was a tragedy of things left unsaid. “I hope you are watching, and to be honest, Dad, I hope you hated that. And I hope you know that when I was grieving you, I found comfort with another man. I don’t regret it. Ty showed me more love in five months than you did in 17 years.” He wiped his eyes and nose again, then finished off his beer. After a moment of brooding silence, he lifted the empty bottle in a toast to his dad. “I may never make you proud, Dad, but I’m going to be more than you ever were.” He put the rest of his six-pack in the fridge, saving it for another day. The money in his account had to last until he got his first paycheck, so he couldn’t afford to drink himself to sleep every night. Instead, he curled up on his mattress, finally opening Tyler’s sketchbook. The streetlight through his window gave plenty of light when he sat at just the right angle, an upside to not having any blinds or curtains. (He added that to the mental shopping list.) Slowly flipping through the pages, he smiled to himself. Most of the pictures were of fantasy creatures – dragons, centaurs, a pegasus, and some Matt couldn’t name. Tyler always said he wanted to be either an animator or a tattoo artist someday, and Matt could see why. Other sketches were of people. He recognized several drawings of Tyler’s little sister, who was adopted by their first foster mom. One of the cruelest things he’d learned about the child welfare system was that siblings adopted by different families rarely got visitation – Ty hadn’t seen his sister in years. Some of those sketches were accompanied by brief, heartfelt notes, and he hoped with a pang that he could find either Tyler or his sister to return this someday. Halfway through the sketchbook, the images took a more sexual tone. Matt blushed and skipped over several detailed sketches of the naked male form, a bit amused that Tyler kept something like this in a group home run by priests. A few pages later, he froze, taking a second look at one of the portraits. “That’s me,” he realized, the corners of his mouth turning up in laughter. It wasn’t obscene, but it wasn’t exactly subtle – Tyler had sketched a picture of him curled up in bed, wearing his favorite Blackhawks sweatshirt. His hands shook slightly as he turned the page, looking at the back. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a note with his name at the top, and he quickly slammed the book shut. His heart racing, Matt carefully returned the sketchbook to its place in the box. The framed photo, too. He closed the box and stacked another on top of it, hiding the offending items away. He’d already let himself feel a lot of things he’d rather avoid, that night – he just couldn’t handle any more.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Waiting at his old friend’s door, Kelly hoped that against all odds, the conversation they needed to have wouldn’t turn ugly. When the door opened, he flashed Rice a charming smile, holding up a six-pack of his favorite IPA. Rice’s answering smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he sighed a little as he stepped back to let Kelly in. “Hey, Lieutenant.” “Hey, Rice,” Kelly said pleasantly, hoping to put him at ease. He gestured to the six-pack. “I was hoping we could have a drink together.” Biting his lip, Rice nodded, motioning for Kelly to come inside. “Is Logan here?” Kelly asked, craning his neck to look into the living room. “Uncle Kelly!” the little boy called out, nearly knocking a chair over in his scramble to come greet him. Laughing, Kelly put the beer on the table, picked his godson up, and swung him around. “Hey, buddy. I hear I’m taking you to Benihana one day soon.” Logan shrieked when Kelly spun, digging his tiny fingers into Kelly’s neck like his life depended on it. Remembering that Logan was still smaller than when he last saw Ben, Kelly quickly sobered and held the child against his chest. “I’ve got ya,” he assured him, shooting Rice a small, chagrined smile. “Sorry, was that scary?” Logan’s wide-eyed shock was replaced by a gleeful smile. “Do it again!” “I think you’ve got a future firefighter here, Scott,” Kelly observed, preparing to spin him again. “That’s an outdoor activity, boys,” Rice intervened, shaking his head. His stern expression soon cracked, however, and he smiled fondly at his son. “Can we go outside, Uncle Kelly?” Kelly really, really wanted to take Logan outside to play… especially when he remembered why he was there. Sighing, he shook his head, carefully returning his squirming godson to the floor. “Not today, buddy… but if your dad says it’s okay, I can come play outside and take you to Benihana this weekend.” Logan looked up at his father with a hopeful smile. “Can we? Please?” Rice eyed Kelly uncomfortably, clearly aware of the real reason for his presence. “Um… maybe. Uncle Kelly is really busy.” Logan’s bottom lip made its first appearance of the evening, forcing Kelly to hold back a smile. “Kelly said he could, Daddy.” Kelly raised an eyebrow at his friend – the five-year-old had a point. If Rice wanted to push him out of his life over a screw-up at work, he wasn’t going to make it easy. He’d been on the other side of that equation. Rice needed friends now more than ever. Forcing a smile, Rice nodded slightly. “We’ll talk about it.” Squatting to make eye contact with Logan, Kelly smiled more convincingly. “I really liked the picture you drew for me. I put it in my locker at the firehouse.” “Cool!” Logan grinned. Kelly nodded. “Yeah. And I like it sooo much, I was wondering – Would you color another picture I can put on my fridge at home?” Logan bobbed his head. “Yeah!” “Thanks,” Kelly said enthusiastically. “Do you mind if I talk to your daddy alone while you color? We have some super boring work stuff to talk about.” He wrinkled his nose, emphasizing the “boring” part, and Logan mirrored his expression. “Like paperwork?” “Yeah,” Kelly confirmed. Logan quickly nodded. “Daddy had to do a lot of paperwork at home after you got blowed up. I’m glad you’re back at work now.” Grinning, Kelly ruffled the boy’s soft brown hair. “Me, too.” While Logan retreated to his bedroom with a box of crayons and a stack of construction paper, Rice motioned for Kelly to take a seat at the kitchen table. “That was low,” he said frankly, standing on the other side of the table. Shrugging, Kelly opened a bottle of beer and handed it to his friend. “Logan’s one of my three favorite godsons… and you’ve been my friend since high school. Sit down and have a beer, Scott.” Rice relented, dropping into a chair. Kelly drank his beer in silence, waiting until Rice’s was half-empty before he spoke. “I think you know why I’m here, Scott.” Staring past his shoulder, Rice didn’t answer right away. Kelly waited. “Yeah,” he said finally, sagging in his seat and resting the bottle against his chin. “Um… Is Lt. Casey okay?” “It’s just a bruise… this time, anyway.” Rice nodded slowly, staring down at the table. “I’m not here to tell you off,” Kelly informed him. “You know you screwed up – you don’t need me to tell you that. I’d like to help, if I can.” “Look… Since Angie died, it’s, uh…” Rice’s brow furrowed with frustration, but after a few seconds’ hesitation, he shook his head, giving in. “I’m all Logan’s got, Kelly.” Kelly listened attentively, maintaining the neutral, supportive expression he’d practiced in front of the mirror. “After the Chicago Med incident… Well, I started to think about him, and what if he lost both of us? He’d be an orphan.” Kelly took a beat to gather his thoughts before he answered, keeping his tone as nonjudgmental as he could. “Scott, there’s a lot of men with families in the CFD. But everyone, when they report for this job, puts it all out there. Everyone.”  Rice furrowed his brow, like he wanted to argue. Kelly held up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay if you’re not up for that, but you have to be able to face that. Because it could have been someone else’s kids losing their dad because of you, and that isn’t a mistake I can help you fix.” Rice’s expression changed. The lines of tension faded, and he looked down at the floor. “Look, man, I’ve got your back,” Kelly said earnestly. “Personally, anything you need, I’m here for you. But professionally, when Squad 3 rolls out, I’m responsible for your life and the lives of everybody else at that scene. If you’re not able to put your life on the line for your fellow firefighters, you shouldn’t be working Rescue Squad. It doesn’t make you a bad person, or a coward. It just means that for right now, you’re not meant for this job.” Rice stubbornly shook his head. “I’m not a ducker, Kelly. I can do the job. I just – I need to go to counseling or something. Make a plan for Logan, just in case.” Kelly gave a small nod. “Hey, if that’s what it takes – great. But if you need to make the decision that this job isn’t for you anymore, that’s okay, too. For now, take the next week or so to think, plan, whatever you gotta do – figure out what you really want. If you aren’t up for risking your life for this job anymore, there’s no shame in making a career change for the sake of your kid. If you want to look for a desk job or a support role in the CFD – maybe the motor pool or the equipment depot – give me a call, and I’ll help you make it happen.” He waited for Rice to process that, then added, “In the meantime, you’re off without pay for the next three shifts for disobeying orders and filing false reports. If you want to come back to work on Squad 3, I need to see proof that you’ve met with a crisis counselor before you can go on calls.” “You’re suspending me!?” Rice asked, his forehead lined with anger. “Yes,” Kelly said calmly, trying not to match his friend’s emotion. “Frankly, you’re lucky you’re not fired. But if you need help making ends meet this month, both Boden and I are willing to help you out. This is partly on me for bringing you back without making sure you were ready, so I’m not going to screw you over. But I’m not going to let you get someone killed, either.” Walking back to his car after hugging both Rices goodbye, Kelly felt pretty good about their conversation. This was the first time he’d issued a suspension himself instead of leaving it up to the chief, and it wasn’t nearly as terrible as he expected. Rice was upset, but that was a natural part of being confronted with the consequences of one’s bad decisions. Kelly had enough personal experience with that feeling to empathize with his friend, but, fueled by the knowledge that Matt could have been hurt a lot worse last shift, he stood firmly by his decision. Fortunately, Matt really was okay – at least, according to Jay Halstead’s brother. Matt had referred to the outgoing redhead as his “least favorite ER doctor” since the day they met, but at least this time, he was pleased with his prognosis. Despite the massive bruise on his shoulder, Halstead cleared him to work their next shift, leaving Kelly even more miffed about being benched by Choi over his objectively less debilitating burn. “Next time, you can go to Choi, and I’ll see Dr. Halstead,” Kelly suggested when he heard the news. “I wouldn’t let Halstead treat you for a hangnail,” was Matt’s stubborn response. His boy sure could hold onto a grudge when he wanted to. That was one of the many things Kelly adored about him. Kelly personally had no hard feelings about Halstead’s triage assessment during “the Chicago Med incident,” as Rice called it, but Matt still mumbled about it in his sleep. At home, he could tell his boyfriend was struggling to get over everything that happened that day, but at work, he seemed able to flip a switch and let it go. Kelly supposed that was the difference between Casey and Rice – Rice couldn’t put the job before himself. Matt put everything before himself, really. When Katya from the strip club called him that morning asking to meet for dinner, he immediately said yes. Kelly hadn’t had a chance to tell him about his conversation with Voight before that phone call, unable to find a private moment at the firehouse. When he did relate what Voight had said – that Nesbitt was involved in human trafficking – his kind-hearted boyfriend’s eyes welled up with tears. He wouldn’t be talked out of meeting Katya that evening, and Kelly knew better than to try. He did manage to win one concession: Matt arranged to meet Katya at a nearby restaurant instead of going to Stilettos. Whether Nesbitt was a trafficker or not, Casey seemed to be done playing his games. Although Kelly’s original plan for the night was to visit the kink club with Clarke, he decided to stay home so he would be there when Matt got back from dinner. Jeff readily agreed to go to the club the next weekend, opting for a more low-key evening at Kelly’s apartment. Kelly felt a bit guilty asking one boyfriend to change their plans so he could spend time with the other, but Jeff claimed to be just as happy to stay in. Wanting to make up for flaking, Kelly decided to open the bourbon he “bought” from Matt. The first thing he did upon getting home from Rice’s was to tidy the apartment, making the bathroom and his bedroom presentable for Clarke. Once his floor and bed were clear of laundry, he retrieved the box holding the bourbon from his gun safe. When he picked up the bottle, he noticed the slip of paper underneath it for the first time. Frowning to himself, he unfolded it and read the note… then rubbed his eyes and read it again. To his disappointment, the words didn’t change. 
“Here’s to more nightcaps and more Stilettos. Call me.” 
First, Kelly crumpled the note between his hands, intending to throw it away. Nesbitt was a total narcissist, and Kelly didn’t give much credence to anything he said. After a few seconds’ more thought, though, he straightened the paper back out and left it in the box, which he carefully locked in the safe. It was probably nothing… but he would check in with Matt about it after Clarke left in the morning, just to be sure.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Over the course of more than two years, Matt built a comfortable life for himself. He wouldn’t say he was content, and he certainly wasn’t proud… but he did stop daydreaming about stepping in front of a bus. That was an improvement, at least.He found that letting go was ultimately the key to his inner peace. By living in the moment, thinking of neither the people he lost nor the future he hoped for, grief lost its power to intrude on his day-to-day life. Still, the first year on his own was brutally lonely. He made a good faith effort at making new friends, but he found it next to impossible to connect with anyone. He went out clubbing with other students in his EMT class on the weekends, and even had a few dates. Nothing went further than a couple of hook-ups, though, and he had a pretty good idea why. Things were great as long as they stuck to the script, but eventually, most girls wanted to do something other than get drunk and fuck. He’d always been a good listener, but when they tried to get to know him, things inevitably fizzled out. He was a broke construction apprentice with no family, no friends, and not even a hobby or interest to tell them about over dinner – not exactly a winner. He learned to content himself with guarding his heart and enjoying each fling while it lasted, trying not to dwell on watching his imagined future slip through his fingers. What he had now was real. It wasn’t noble or heroic, and he didn’t have much joy – but he didn’t have to endure the utter heartbreak of the year before, either.Getting attached to people, places, or even dreams made him vulnerable to loss. He would rather feel nothing at all. The inattentive cashier at the convenience store down the street certainly helped with that. In the first six months, Matt did hold onto some things. He spent hours pouring over Tyler’s sketchbook, memorizing every image and word. The notes with the sketches of his sister Kathleen were almost like prayers, leaving Matt feeling like a terrible brother by comparison. Consumed with his own loss and struggling to cope with his new life, he rarely took time to worry about Christie. He vowed to do better, but the more she missed his calls, the more he doubted whether she wanted to hear from him at all. Maybe that relationship was broken beyond repair, just like everything else. It turned out Tyler drew more than one sketch of Matt, too. Only the first – the one of him curled up in bed in the Blackhawks sweatshirt he got for Christmas – had a handwritten note: “The world is a better place with you in it, Matt Casey. You’ll be the hero we didn’t have.” Matt didn’t really know what to make of that. He sure didn’t feel like a hero, and he doubted anyone would notice if he, too, disappeared. The others were more overtly sexual. Even after looking through the drawings dozens of times, Matt still blushed a little at the sight of his penis in pen-and-ink. If he ever did track Tyler down, he would give him so much crap. (The group home didn’t exactly allow them much privacy – anyone could have seen those!) That didn’t stop him from looking, though, relishing in the rare sensation of knowing someone cared. Even if the person who cared for him was gone for good. During the first few months, he tried everything he could think of to figure out where Tyler ended up. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy – actually, it turned out to be impossible. DCFS would never tell him what happened to another aged-out youth, if they even knew. Jason reported that none of the other guys had any idea, either. He tried checking prisons, but that went nowhere. On a couple of particularly lonely evenings, he even wandered around areas where homeless people and runaways gathered, but he never found any sign of Ty. It was like Tyler disappeared without a trace, and sometimes Matt felt like he had, too. If he did go missing – dying in his sleep or getting on a bus and never coming back or simply vanishing from existence – he was pretty sure no one would notice. Maybe his boss, but even he would probably shrug it off after a couple days. Chicago had no shortage of blue collar workers in need of jobs. Eventually, Matt let go of Tyler, too. If Tyler ever wanted to find him, he would have a much easier time of it – everyone they lived with in the group home knew where he ended up. After a point, pouring over his ex-boyfriend’s diary and looking for him under overpasses started to seem creepy, pathetic, or maybe both. He knew he had to move on. He just didn’t have much worth moving on to. In the second year, things got a little better. Jason graduated from high school the year after Matt, and the Catholic charity helped him move into the same building. The most extroverted person Matt had ever known, Jason dragged him somewhere different 3 or 4 nights a week – clubs, pool halls, karaoke bars, UIC sporting events, even a bowling alley and the Y. Over time, Matt learned how to have fun again. His fun usually included a couple of shots, but he didn’t need the alcohol just to cope with the bleakness of life anymore. Jason remained his only confidante, but Matt developed a reputation as a quiet but reliable friend with a razor-sharp wit and willingness to do household repairs that would otherwise go ignored by their landlords… and, with some tequila in him, surprisingly willing to tear it up on the dance floor. (He pretended not to remember those nights.) Once he finished his apprenticeship and started to earn more money, Matt discovered a hobby of building handmade furniture. He started with a combined wardrobe/bookshelf/display case custom-built to fit in the tight space in his apartment, finally giving himself somewhere other than cardboard boxes and plastic bins to store his books, clothes, and CDs. He also built himself a gateleg dining table, which could seat up to three dinner guests or be folded flat against the wall. His friends soon started pitching ideas, and he developed a nice side gig building furniture in his apartment. With a more presentable home, he also discovered a love of hosting dinner parties. He always enjoyed helping his mother and grandmother in the kitchen when he was little, but as an adult, making meals just for himself seemed like a waste of money and time. He preferred cooking for others, especially when he got to watch them savor something he spent hours preparing. The apartment makeover and cooking skills gave his sex life a boost as well. He was less embarrassed to bring women home now, and he could romance them with lasagna or chicken provolone paired with the best wine his local convenience store had to offer. He still kept them emotionally at arm’s length, reluctant to open himself up. He no longer panicked at basic questions, though, able to at least talk about his hobbies and his job. About six months before his 21st birthday, Matt and Jason met two women in a bar near UIC. A devoted wingman, Jason encouraged Matt to buy a round of drinks for the girls using his fake ID. On his way back to the table, he overheard part of their conversation. “Are you guys students here?” the brunette was asking, apparently vetting their career prospects before she’d commit to a drink. “No,” Jason said. “I’m a phlebotomist over at Lakeshore, and Matt’s getting ready to go to the Fire Academy.” “What’s that?” her companion asked, but Matt didn’t hear Jason’s response. He almost stopped short in the middle of the bar, in fact, but quickly regained the wherewithal to rejoin the table. Matt hadn’t thought about becoming a fireman in… he didn’t know how long. He wasn’t even sure if that was still what he wanted. Firefighting seemed like a little boy’s dream. He was just finding his footing in life. Could he really walk away from the career he already had in favor of a pipe dream? What if he quit his job, only to wash out of the CFD within a few weeks? That line of thinking monopolized his thoughts, even when he took the brunette back to his place. She wasn’t really his type, but apparently, she had a thing for wannabe first responders. Matt knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Thanks to his new furniture and some vigorous work with his tongue, the girl – Bailey or Haley or something like that – decided to spend the night. Despite his reluctance to engage in a serious relationship, he appreciated having a warm body next to his while he slept, and she had a particularly nice one. Around 4:00, Matt woke to a thunderous boom. Both he and Hailey-Baylee-Kaylie sat straight up in bed, and she tightly gripped his forearm. “Was that thunder?” “I don’t know,” he said, pushing the sheets aside and opening the curtain to look outside. “I don’t think so. It’s not raining.” He stood and reached for the discarded boxers on the floor, while maybe-Hayley sat on the edge of the bed with a sheet clutched over her boobs. (He never understood that tendency in girls – he saw a lot more than nipples just three hours ago.) “I’ll take a quick look around,” he said, tossing her the lacy black bra hanging on a chair. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably a truck backfiring or something.” A peek up and down the hall gave no sign of anything amiss, but Matt had butterflies in his stomach. He almost went back inside, but anxiety compelled him to open the door to the stairwell instead. There was no one there, either, so Matt shrugged it off and returned to his apartment. “Looks like everything’s okay out there,” he assured his date, who stood in her t-shirt and panties, wringing her hands. “I didn’t see anyone in the hall or the stairwell, and nobody’s yelling or anything.” “Okay,” she said, pulling her long brown hair around one shoulder. “I can be a little bit jumpy sometimes.” Shrugging, Matt flashed her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” Possibly-Kaylee smiled back at him, running her hands up and down his arms. “You’re going to be a great firefighter… and I can’t wait to see the calendar.” Matt chuckled. “It might be a year or two, but I’ll make sure you get an autographed copy.” Standing on her toes, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “You better.” About three minutes later, Hailey/Bailey’s panties were once again on the floor. Just as Matt unwrapped his second condom of the night, the building’s fire alarm started going off. Haley’s eyes widened and Matt dropped the condom, reaching for his twice-discarded underwear instead. They both hurriedly got dressed, his date stumbling over her own feet in her rush to pull up her jeans. “Calm,” he said simply, briefly resting a hand on her arm. “Don’t panic. Put your shoes on, and take some deep breaths. You’re going to be okay.” He grabbed two flannel shirts from his wardrobe, then ran to the sink. After soaking both in cold water, he handed one to Hayley, along with another reassuring smile. “If there’s smoke in the hall or the stairs, stay low to the ground and hold this over your face.” She silently nodded, her hands trembling as she accepted the shirt. Remembering elementary school, Matt touched the door with his hand before he turned the doorknob. “It’s cool,” he said aloud, hoping to ease her fear. “Let’s go.” There were no flames in the hallway, but smoke was another story. The hall that showed no signs of anything out of place five minutes ago was now rapidly filling with smoke, and Matt heard another boom from downstairs. “Stay low,” he reminded his terrified date, taking her by the wrist. Crouching to keep his head below the worst of the smoke, he practically hauled her down the hall, calling out to his neighbors that the fire was real and to hurry up. Several others joined their dash to the stairwell; once there, Matt made sure the alleged “fire door” closed tightly behind them. “The fire is down there – is it safe to go down?” “We can’t go up,” Matt said firmly. “There’s only one more floor and the roof above us – and no fire escape. We have to go down. But look, there’s hardly any smoke in the stairwell.” He carefully guided Hailey/Bailey down the stairs, making sure she didn’t stumble while she shook from head to toe. Matt had never seen anyone so terrified. When they got outside, Matt did his best to herd his pajama- and robe-clad neighbors away from the burning building while they waited for the CFD. Most ignored him, but he did persuade his date, Jason, and the blonde he brought home to join him on the sidewalk across the street. The girls trembled violently, and now that they were safe, Matt found his own hands becoming unsteady as well. By the time the ambulances arrived, Matt had to talk their dates into sticking around to get checked out. Seemingly uninjured, they both wanted to go home, but Matt launched into an anxiety-driven lecture about smoke inhalation and the dangerous chemicals that might have been used in constructing that building – the landlord wasn’t exactly a class act. While the paramedics checked them out, they asked for each of their names. Matt turned to listen when maybe-Hayley answered, needing to have her name if he ever wanted to see her again. “Hallie Thomas,” she said, and he kicked himself. Not Hailey – Hallie.  
Get your shit together, Matt. 
“Well, you both seem fine,” the medic informed them. “I’m not seeing any signs of smoke inhalation – good thinking, putting the damp cloths over your faces. Whose idea was that?” Hallie pointed to Matt. “He’s going to be a firefighter… turns 21 in a few months.” The medic gave Matt an approving nod. “Well, it looks like you’ll be a good one… but don’t go looking for opportunities to be a hero again before you get the training. You did good today, but I can’t overstate how dangerous the job can be.” Matt nodded seriously. “I think that just showed me how much I have to learn. I should have realized there was something wrong sooner, when we heard the first boom. I’m sorry, Hallie, I…” She rolled her eyes. “You saved my life tonight, Matthew Casey. Don’t go making it weird.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt arrived 15 minutes early for dinner with Katya, wanting to make sure he wasn’t late. Since they were only a few blocks from Stilettos, he parked his truck in the lot of a 24 hour pharmacy down the street. If Nesbitt happened to drive by and recognize it, he wouldn’t have an easy time figuring out where Matt really was. Keeping his head on a swivel while walking to the restaurant, he was well aware of his own paranoia. There was no reason Nesbitt should mind if he had dinner with Katya – this was the slimeball who once invited Matt to “take the girls home.” Still, Matt had long suspected there was something more between Katya and Nesbitt. Jack definitely seemed like the jealous type. On the other hand, he didn’t seem like a human trafficker. Or maybe Matt just didn’t know what traffickers were like. As far as he knew, he’d never met one before, so what did he really know? Voight’s accusation would answer all the questions in the back of Matt’s mind… but Matt had seen Voight get things terribly wrong in the past. It was hard to take the man’s word on someone’s moral character after everything he’d put them through. He hoped Katya would trust him enough to tell the truth. The last time he saw her, it seemed like she wanted to talk, but she was too scared to say anything at Stilettos. Matt had been all over every inch of that room, and found no sign of bugs – but based on Katya’s reaction when he mentioned the cops, maybe she knew something he didn’t. Despite his punctuality, when he walked into the restaurant, he found Katya already sitting against the back wall. Her seat had a clear vantage point of both the entrance and the hallway leading to the bathrooms and the kitchen, but she couldn’t be seen by anyone outside. “Tacos, huh?” Matt said in greeting, joining her at the table. “It’s the last place Jack would expect to find me. He’s never seen me eat a taco.” They talked casually while they placed their orders and waited for their drinks – regular lemonade for Matt, and strawberry for Katya. Matt was tempted by the margaritas, but this wasn’t a “fun and flirty” kind of dinner. Unfortunately, the taco joint didn’t serve scotch. Matt expected Katya to order something other than tacos. With all the cocktail dresses and careful, classy makeup when she wasn’t dancing, she didn’t seem like a finger food kind of girl. She surprised him, though, ordering three shrimp tacos and a side of steak fries. At Matt’s raised eyebrow, she explained, “Just because nobody’s ever seen me with a taco, doesn’t mean I haven’t.” Once their meals arrived, a somber mood fell over them. “So… You’re working with the police?” Katya murmured, looking down at her plate. “Not yet. They approached me, but I… I have a complicated history with the sergeant of the unit investigating the case. I don’t judge situations based on his word alone.” Katya’s eyes darted around the restaurant, seemingly studying every face. Finally, she scooted a bit closer to Matt. “It’s true,” she whispered. “Jack, he – He didn’t know what he was getting into at first. But these men – the ‘investors.’ They traffic women and girls from Southeastern Europe – Serbia, Romania, Kosovo… Bulgaria.” Matt was suddenly aware of the tension in every muscle in his body. Katya was from Bulgaria – she emphasized that for a reason. Trying to act natural, he forced himself to lift his glass to his mouth. “To work in the clubs?” “If you’re lucky.” Matt frowned, tipping his head to the side. “Were… you?” Twisting her mouth in consideration, Katya shook her head. “It’s more complicated for me. I came here on my own… to get away from a worse situation. But now… Let’s just say, I owe Jack a lot.” “How can I help?” “I don’t know if you can,” she said frankly. “I want to try,” he answered. “I can work with the cops, help build their case against the traffickers… or I can just help you get away from Jack.” Katya took a bite of her taco, chewed, and swallowed before she answered. “This cop you don’t trust… How bad is he?” Matt pursed his lips, then nodded. “We can trust him with this. He’s not a good guy, but he’ll do anything to protect women and children. The problem is – he’ll do anything. But there are a couple of detectives in his unit I do trust. They’ll make sure he does it right.” In defense of Voight’s methods, cops “finding” a brick of cocaine in Nesbitt’s kitchen wouldn’t be unwelcome at the moment… but Matt didn’t want to stoop to Voight’s level. Katya looked around the room again, noting the face of each waiter and guest. Finally, she took Matt’s hand, leaning close as though to kiss him on the cheek. “I have a notebook,” she whispered, “with evidence against Jack. Conversations I’ve overheard, names of women, dates.” She actually did kiss him then, brushing her lips against his ear. Matt tenderly tucked wavy blonde hair behind hers, putting on a show for anyone she worried might be watching. “Where is it?” Katya hesitated. Maybe that was a step too far – he hadn’t reached that level of trust. “I can bring it to you,” she said instead of answering directly. “Um, maybe we meet up again Saturday night?” “I have work on Saturday,” he said apologetically. “Um, you’re always welcome to drop by there, but there are a lot of people.” “Sunday, then,” she decided, forcing a smile. “Um, the weather’s supposed to be nice. Maybe we can go to a park.” “What about an afternoon at Navy Pier?” Matt suggested, remembering their past conversations. “You’ve said you want to do some touristy stuff, right?” Katya bit her lip, then gave a tiny shrug. “Jack doesn’t like for us to go too far. He… worries.” Matt raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’ll make sure to get you home safe.” He took a sip of lemonade, then added, “Or not.” She gave a breathy, nervous laugh. “You’ll pick me up?” “Yeah,” Matt agreed. “Uh… Maybe a couple of blocks away?” “I’ll text you an address.” After dinner, Matt went into the pharmacy before getting back in his truck, making it look like he had a reason to park there. He could feel another headache coming on. It seemed more likely to be the result of stress than a symptom of a two month old concussion, so he didn’t want to take one of his few remaining Percocet if he could avoid it. He easily found his favorite over-the-counter headache pills, but the beer and wine aisles were more of a conundrum. The pharmacy didn’t carry liquor, and he didn’t feel like dealing with the effort of a six-pack of beer – so apparently, he was drinking wine tonight. Channeling his inner Shay, he went with a 1.5 liter Pinot Grigio with a screw-top lid. He almost bought a second bottle in a different variety, which would also be very Shay – but he stopped himself with a wry chuckle and a shake of his head, walking away from the display. The store clerk was an exhausted-looking older woman, but she met Matt’s eyes with a friendly smile. “You know you shouldn’t take those with alcohol,” she pointed out after checking his ID. Matt returned her smile, mildly embarrassed by his purchase. “The painkillers are for the morning… It turns out I’m not 21 anymore.” “You don’t look a day over 25, sweetheart,” she replied. “I wish that was true,” he quipped, taking his bag and the receipt. “Have a nice night.” The next part of his evening did not channel Shay. He felt uneasy as he did it, but he chalked that up to the clusterfuck he’d accidentally walked into. Jack Nesbitt was actually a human trafficker. A human trafficker who kissed him. What the actual fuck?  That was the last time Matt would consider a character reference from Scott Rice. He should have known better. In the privacy of the cab of his truck, Matt quickly opened the Excedrin and shook a few tablets out in his hand. He unscrewed the wine bottle with his other hand, then did exactly what he told the cashier he wouldn’t. He also told himself he would just take a sip, enough to get the pills down. That didn’t work out, either. About three-quarters of the way through the bottle, he was startled by a knock on the back of his truck.  Nesbitt! was his first thought – but what he saw when he glanced in the mirror was worse. Suddenly shaking, he set the wine aside – spilling a little on the plastic mat on the floor – and hastily rolled the window down. “Voight,” he said dryly as the man reached his window. He wore a leather jacket and jeans, looking no more like a cop than Matt did. Voight shook his head, nodding toward the passenger’s side. “Unlock the door.” Clenching his jaw, Matt obeyed. He closed the wine bottle before Voight got in, but there was really nowhere to hide it. “I can’t drive anywhere,” he said bluntly. “No shit, Casey,” Voight said gruffly. “I could arrest you on a DUI charge right now. Now that is ironic.” “I’m not driving.” Voight slammed his door, then picked the wine bottle up and glanced at the label. “You know as well as I do that under the law, it doesn’t matter. Were you gonna sit here until you sobered up?” “Uber,” Matt snapped, holding up his phone. As he did, he realized it was dead. That wasn’t the point. “Sure,” Voight said smugly. “Anyway, how was dinner with the stripper? I saw you getting nice and cozy.” “You saw me?” Matt asked, all his confidence in his skills of observation suddenly dashed. He was so sure he didn’t see anyone he knew in that restaurant – there weren’t even that many people there – “We need to talk, and you just screwed yourself out of your veto card,” Voight informed him. “You can come with me, sit in a nice, comfy room, tell me everything you know, and do whatever I need to build a case against these bastards – or I can call a patrol unit to arrest you for a DUI. What’s it gonna be, Matt?” “Fuck you, Hank.” Matt went with Voight, of course. He wasn’t stupid. In that moment, he could admit, at least to himself, that this was suddenly looking less like “an experiment with moderation” and more like “a terrible mistake.” That was one problem – one that somehow seemed both huge and looming and distant and removed, like it was bobbing on the ocean a hundred miles out to sea. But the bigger problem weighed more heavily on his mind. Voight made him sit in the back of his car – his personal car, where there weren’t any rules requiring it. Matt rolled his eyes at Voight’s nonstop power moves, but he was in no position to argue. “I was going to call you, after I talked to Katya. I want to help you stop Nesbitt.” Voight met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I thought you were sober. When’d you fall off the wagon?” Matt bristled. “That’s none of your business, Hank. I’ll help you with Nesbitt. We aren’t here to talk about me.” “From where I’m sitting, we’re here to talk about whatever I tell you we’re going to talk about. Unless you want me to call Wallace Boden and tell him what a reckless, idiotic, criminal thing I saw one of his officers doing tonight…” 
Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you – 
“I’m not really drinking. Just… an occasional drink.” “How. Long?” Matt sighed. What the fuck did Voight care? “Maybe three or four times in the past month. Just when I have a bad night.” “I’m going to register you as a CI, and as long as you fully cooperate with my investigation, I’ll make sure nobody finds out about your little… slip. But you need to get your act together, Casey. I don’t need a drunk CI. You can’t afford to slip up around these guys.”“I won’t,” Matt insisted. “I’m fine.” Voight continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And you cannot tell anyone. We can let Boden know you’re working a case, but nobody else – including your boyfriends – can know a thing. For their safety. Both of them have been with you to the club, met Nesbitt and been seen by his associates. Don’t put them at risk by telling them anything.” Matt had to think to remember Jeff ever being at Stilettos, but Voight was right – he came by one time with Kelly, spent maybe an hour and a half helping them with the renovation. “I only have one boyfriend. Clarke and I are just friends. And I wouldn’t tell them – and I would have come and helped you after everything Katya just told me, even if you didn’t decide to blackmail me. But you told Severide about the trafficking. He knows I’m not going to just let that go.” “Convince him,” Voight insisted. “Tell him the girl denied it. I don’t need this thing to be any more of a mess than you’ve already made it, and your boyfriend’s even more of a hothead than you are.”  “Me?” Matt sputtered. “Go fuck yourself, Voight.” Voight was silent for a couple of blocks, not responding to Matt’s curse. (He probably got that a lot.) After about a minute, Matt quietly said, “I’ll keep my mouth shut as long as you do, too. Nobody knows about tonight.” “You have to let me register you as a CI and be willing to testify at trial if they need you, or no deal. But we can pretend you came in voluntarily. No need to mention the drinking.” “What about Sgt. Platt?” Matt asked. He could handle Nesbitt, but not the CFD gossip mill. As far as he knew, Trudy never said a word to Mouch about her work-related interactions with his boss, but if she ever slipped up… He’d never live it down. Voight shook his head. “She’s a desk sergeant. Never needs to know about any of this. But if you try to double cross me, I’m not going to waste time with a Class A misdemeanor – I’m going to make sure everyone in the CFD knows you made a deal to get out of a DUI.” “Why the fuck would I double cross you?” Voight’s stare became almost pitying. “Because you’re an addict, Casey. Addicts lie, and they manipulate, and they don’t keep their word. But I do. Don’t you forget that.” Nodding in resigned acceptance, Matt rubbed his forehead. “I can’t argue with that.” Voight’s smug smile did little to ease Matt’s anxiety about the situation he was getting himself into, but he couldn’t back out now. Whatever Voight and Nesbitt had in store for him, it was better than the minimum suspension from the CFD for getting charged with a DUI. The fine and community service, he could live with. The humiliation of everyone at 51 – most of all Kelly – knowing what a stupid thing he’d done… not so much. “What do you need from me tonight?” Matt asked, longing to go home. He didn’t know how he’d slide his intoxication past Kelly, but he would rather face him than Hank Voight any day. “A full debrief and a lot of paperwork,” Voight answered. “These men are monsters, using our city to traffic women and children throughout the Midwest. We’re taking them down the right way, so we know for sure they spend the next 25 to life behind bars. That means you have some shit to sign before I take you home.” “Let’s get to it, then,” Matt said, trying to open his door as soon as the car came to a stop behind the 21st Precinct. To his irritation, the child safety lock was engaged, making Matt wait for Voight to come around and let him out. “Come on,” Voight said neutrally, putting a hand on Matt’s head as he got out of the backseat. Matt swatted his hand away, then walked ahead of Voight. “I’m not too drunk to get out of a car, Hank.” “Great,” Voight grumbled at his back. “This is gonna be great.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Fall 1999 
In the months after his apartment building burned down, Matt became too busy to think about his feelings. Losing his apartment threw a wrench in his financial plan, but he took it in stride. After a couple of weeks of couch surfing, Hallie introduced him to a friend whose fourth roommate dropped out of college and their lease. Since the three remaining guys were already covering that part of the rent, they let Matt move in with just the first month’s rent and no deposit. He was able to retrieve most of his belongings from his apartment a few days after the fire. His part of the building didn’t burn, but all of his clothes and linens were saturated with foul-smelling smoke. He was able to keep his cookware, tools, and most of his personal belongings, at least, and Jason found a food pantry that also gave away gently used household items and clothes. Matt felt uncomfortable going there, at first – those places were supposed to be for homeless people with no other options, and he had more than $500 in his savings account. Jason laughed outright when he voiced that thought, teasingly reminding him that they were “foster kids whose house burnt down – this place is for us.”  So, feeling awkward the entire time, he found a blanket, two pairs of jeans, two long-sleeved t-shirts, a corduroy jacket, and a pair of work boots in his size. That would at least allow him to keep working while he got back on his feet. He dipped into his savings to buy himself a new set of sheets and towels, and everything else, he replaced gradually over time. After the fire, Matt had no doubt: he was born to be a firefighter. He couldn’t get the events of that night out of his mind, but unlike Hallie, it was exhilaration, rather than trauma, that kept him up at night. He started training for the CPAT the day after moving into his new place. Just walking into the Academy to pick up the training manual and sign up for a practice test gave him a shiver of excitement, especially when he caught a glimpse of the current class of recruits on an aerial. He threw himself into a daily schedule of working out in the morning, spending 8-12 hours on a construction site, and studying firefighting manuals before (or in) bed. Preparing to qualify for the CFD took up every scrap of Matt’s energy, leaving nothing for other ventures. He stopped taking furniture commissions, and went from seeing Jason every day to only once or twice a week. He rarely drank when they did go out, reluctant to risk a hangover. Running up and down bleachers with a bag loaded with books and a tequila headache wasn’t exactly his favorite way to watch the sun rise. He did spend some time with Hallie, but even that was rare. In addition to her name, he learned that she was a sophomore at UIC, majoring in biochemistry with a minor in Spanish and planning to go to med school. She was involved in a seemingly endless list of campus groups and activities, so her time for hooking up was as fleeting as Matt’s. When they did cross paths, it invariably led to great sex, but neither expressed interest in anything more. For the first time in Matt’s life, he understood the concept of “thriving.” The more he threw himself into preparing for the Fire Academy, the more his childhood trauma faded into the background. By the time he could run three miles carrying his weighted pack without getting out of breath, he felt like a new man… and he liked what he saw in the mirror, too. 
2000 - 2001 
Matt passed the CPAT and all the other CFD qualifying exams on his first try, soon after turning 21. A few weeks later, the class that would start that July was announced – and Matt wasn’t on the list. He shrugged that off, understanding in theory that some guys took years to get past the absurd lottery system and into an academy class. His qualifying scores were strong, and even after passing the CPAT, he kept up with his daily training, hoping to be accepted with the next round. That didn’t happen, and he spent yet another Christmas in an empty apartment. His collegiate roommates went home to their families, so he had the place to himself for almost three weeks. He took advantage of the opportunity, making corned beef the right way and listening to anything but Christmas music while dancing in his boxers and undershirt. That was the first year he didn’t cry on Christmas day, and he finally felt free of his grief. He started 2001 with renewed vigor, striving for a more balanced life. He backed off on the daily workouts, reserving the three-mile runs for Sunday mornings. He took a part-time job at an ale house near campus, where he gained a love for beer that came from a tap instead of a convenience store and a group of acquaintances with liberal arts degrees. He met the second man he would ever kiss in that ale house: a 35-year-old French Literature professor named Jerome. He came in every Thursday to drink exactly one beer while grading papers at a table in the corner. Matt took to reserving his table, making sure he had a space to spread his papers out. After missing two weeks in a row, Jerome suddenly started showing up nearly every evening Matt worked, drinking much more than his usual glass of beer. Matt soon learned that he’d just been dumped by his boyfriend, and before he knew it, they were having drunken hook-ups at the end of every shift. That only lasted about a month, but he learned things that month that would stay with him the rest of his life. After the third time Matt was passed up for the Fire Academy, he started to give up hope. New classes were only announced twice a year, and he’d already waited so many years for this dream. It often felt like his whole life was on hold until random chance allowed him to take the next step. Over time, his dream of becoming a firefighter started to seem distant again. Two years was a long time to wait. Remodeling commercial spaces didn’t give the same thrill as leading someone out of a burning building, but seeing the physical results of his hard work was fulfilling in its own way. He especially enjoyed rehabilitating burnt, neglected, and otherwise damaged buildings. Being able to walk past what was once a boarded-up storefront and see a thriving business made him feel like a contributing member of the community, even without the glamor of a firetruck. Then 9/11 happened, and everything shifted again. Like millions across the country, he spent weeks glued to the news, coming away with an overwhelming need to do something meaningful with his life. Reminded of the real reason to be a firefighter, he decided he was done waiting to get through the CFD lottery. It was time to take matters into his own hands. Although the Chicago Fire Department was saturated with applicants, not every department had the same deluge of candidates waiting for a chance to do the job. His CPAT score was transferable almost anywhere, and a lot of smaller cities in the region accepted results from the CFD qualifying exams. He put applications in with six of them, ready to get on with his purpose in life, even if it meant leaving the city he called home. One Friday in late November, Matt found two official-looking envelopes in his post office box after work. The first was from the Joliet Fire Department, and the second was from the CFD. He stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk, reading that return address again and again. He couldn’t wait until he got home. Still standing just outside the post office door, he gingerly peeled the letter from the CFD open. They didn’t send rejections, so it had to be…  “Yes!” he shrieked, pumping his fist in the air. Noting the stares of the people on the sidewalk, he gave an awkward, apologetic wave. “Good news!” “Congratulations, honey,” a woman laughed, while the two men frowned and walked away. Matt grinned to himself the entire walk home. He didn’t need to open the letter from Joliet – that wasn’t even a question. On the first Monday of January 2002, he would officially be a recruit at the Chicago Fire Academy. 
January 2002 
The morning of Matt’s first day at the Academy, he buzzed with excitement (and just a hint of nerves) from the moment his eyes popped open. By the force of willpower alone, he managed to fall asleep at 11 PM, enabling him to wake full of energy at 6. Since the Academy included daily fitness classes, he could skip his morning workouts for the next six months. That made his morning a breeze. He arrived much earlier than he planned, unable to wait at home any longer. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one. Although he got to the Academy before the doors even opened, he found about ten young men in heavy winter coats already milling around on the sidewalk. He paused for a moment at the memorial to fallen firefighters painted on the corner. From his earlier visits, he knew there was a more intricate one inside the Academy, but this one affected him differently post-9/11. Feeling slightly more somber, he went to greet his fellow early bird recruits by the front door. Most wore identical expressions of nervous excitement, but one – a redhead – stood off to the side with a decidedly unfriendly scowl on his face. “Hey, I’m Casey,” Matt greeted the others, giving the grouch his space. The door opened after just a few minutes, and the eager recruits began filing inside. Matt took a deep breath as he passed through the doorway, almost wanting to pinch himself. After waiting so long for this, it all felt strangely surreal. They signed in at tables in front of an old steam engine, then went to pick up their gear and change into their new uniforms. On his way to roll call, Matt slowed – but didn’t stop – to read the sign outside the drill hall: “thru these doors pass the best damn firefighters in the country.” As soon as he slowed, however, someone slammed right into his back and grunted with disgust. “What’s wrong with you? Move,” the redhead snapped, bumping his shoulder against Matt’s again on his way past.  Everywhere has one, I guess. Rolling his eyes, Matt continued into the drill hall. Some uptight kid who couldn’t cope with his first day jitters wasn’t going to bring down his mood. Not today. After roll call, they had a classroom orientation session to go over Academy policies and procedures and their schedule for the first six weeks. The instructor passed out another binder, containing a lengthy checklist of all the tasks they had to complete before graduation. It was a lot, but everyone who’d already passed a basic EMT course got to check that off on day one – which Matt did with enthusiasm. Their next stop was the app floor, where an instructor simply ordered them to line up alphabetically, then yelled from the staircase above them while they struggled to figure it out. Their t-shirts didn’t have names on the back, and none of them knew each other by name yet. After about a minute of chaos and the instructor’s third shout of “I said, line up,” one of the recruits in the center of the pack whistled with his fingers. “Listen up!”  The room mostly quieted, with the exception of a few hushed conversations, and everyone turned to stare at the black-haired, blue-eyed recruit. His entire demeanor exuded confidence, and Matt got the sense that he was pleased to have everyone’s eyes on him. “If your last name starts with A through D, sort yourselves into a row at the front. Alphabetical from left to right. E through H, behind them, and so on. Once you get your group in order, adjust so there’s seven men to a row. Can we handle that, gentlemen?” Despite the recruit’s apparent effort to sound encouraging, sarcasm oozed from his final words. Smirking, Matt stayed pretty much where he was, having already worked out roughly where the C’s ought to go. It would have been a good way to force them to learn each other’s names, if they’d been under less stress. As it was, Matt only remembered the men at his left and right: Carter and Darden. (Carter nearly had a panic attack trying to remember whether “R” came before or after “S,” so Matt wasn’t sure how long he would last.) Once they stood in seven perfectly even lines, the instructor, still standing on the staircase, launched into a Chicago-style motivational speech. “Welcome to the Chicago Fire Academy. The next six months will be the most physically and mentally grueling of your lives so far, in the hope that a handful of you might be prepared for the even greater challenges of the job. If you think anything you had to do to get here was hard, you might as well give up right now.” He paused, as if expecting someone to step out of line. “Look at the men standing on either side of you. Over the next few weeks, you will become brothers… or more likely, you’ll wash out.” Matt flashed the gangly young man at his right side – Darden – a friendly smile. “Hey, brother,” Darden whispered, ensuring the instructor couldn’t hear. “Hi,” Matt whispered back. Someone roughly poked him in the back, whispering “shut up.” He didn’t need to turn to recognize the redhead from before. Chagrined, he locked his eyes on the instructor. He hoped the grouch behind him would either get the stick removed from his ass or find someone else to take his bad mood out on soon. Throughout their classes that day, Matt couldn’t help noticing the recruit he thought of as “the hotshot.” They were in different groups, but even from across the app bay, Matt could hear him explaining the aerial controls on the ladder truck to another group of recruits. Matt suspected that would wear thin with the other recruits pretty fast, but he could relate with the enthusiasm. The highlight of Matt’s day was during one of the afternoon classes, when they got to climb the aerial up to the fourth story of a building. After spending the prior 40 minutes being timed while taking his new gear on and off, Matt was excited to actually do something. They went through in a line, each getting two turns to climb up the aerial and through a wide, open window, then take the stairs back down. To Matt’s relief, this line wasn’t alphabetical, but excitement propelled him close to the front. “Candidate Severide, since you’re so eager, you can go first,” the instructor announced. “Remember, maintain three-point contact at all times, keep your eyes up, and don’t rush. It’s a long way down.” “Yes, sir,” the hotshot grinned. Matt got to go fourth, following right behind Darden. He didn’t expect to feel any fear at all, but there was a definite adrenaline rush around the halfway point. He’d been higher in the air, but it was hard to convince his subconscious mind that a mostly-horizontal ladder more than 20 feet in the air was a safe way to go. That thrill made it even better, and he laughed a little as one of the instructors showed him how to safely transfer from the ladder to the window. Darden, Severide, and a recruit whose name Matt hadn’t learned yet each fist bumped him in the stairwell, and the four of them hurried downstairs to go up again. Matt would have gladly repeated that exercise for the rest of the day, but the instructors smugly informed them they would have to earn it. Instead, they got to spend the next hour dragging, carrying, and piling sandbags in the bitter cold. When the recruits were informed they were ending the first day with an “easy” three-mile jog, Matt was glad he skipped his workout. The nearly 50 recruits ran in a tight pack through the streets around the Academy building, following their instructor in a cadence. He then made them jog in place during some long-winded final instructions. Matt’s legs felt like jello by the time he heard “fall out.”  Like most of the recruits, he sank to the ground, going through the motions so it would at least look like he was stretching. He thought he was in good enough shape that the physical aspect of the Academy would be no big deal, but he suddenly realized he’d been naive. He still had to walk home, and he already looked forward to falling face first into bed. “Great job today,” the dark-haired hotshot grinned on the way back to the locker room, slapping him on the back. “Looks like you’re a natural.” Matt forced a smile, well-aware that he’d been slow and clumsy in comparison. “That’s nice of you to say. Damn, you’re quick.” “I’ve had a lot of practice,” Severide shrugged. “The more you do this, the more automatic it becomes. You’ll get there in no time.”  Is it cocky if you’re actually better than everyone else? Matt wondered, ever-so-slightly annoyed. He seemed genuinely nice, though, and Matt needed friends, so he flashed him a charming smile before turning towards his locker. 
He won’t be the best for long. 
As soon as the adorable little blonde was out of earshot, Kelly felt Andy’s hand on his wrist. 
“Don’t.” 
Kelly snorted, shaking his head, and began opening his locker. “No idea what you mean.” His best friend eyed him skeptically. “Yes, you do. And you know it will be a disaster. So don’t.”  Shrugging, Kelly dropped his hideous gray sweatpants and swapped them out for a pair of black and red joggers. “Wasn’t planning on it. I’m done with all that. Doesn’t mean I can’t have friends.” Andy smirked. “I don’t know if you can have friends who look like that.” Forcing a laugh, Kelly gave his shoulder a playful shove. “You jealous, Darden?” “Hell yeah,” Andy smirked, patting Kelly’s back the way he always did when he felt bad about something he’d said. “You’re not gonna shower?” “Nah,” Kelly declined. “I’m going straight to the gym, so I’ll just shower there.” Andy stared at him. “You’re actually insane.” Kelly smiled, shrugging the conversation off. He had one goal for the next six months: to be the best recruit the CFD had ever seen. He didn’t have time to waste chasing cute blondes, even one with eyes like a summer afternoon.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt was exhausted, both mentally and physically, by the time he made it home. Voight called Detective Dawson in to talk about the case too, leaving Matt in his unit’s break room with a cup of coffee and a granola bar, “to sober up while we wait.” Voight sat at a desk in the bullpen instead of his office, and Matt felt his eyes on him the entire time. When Dawson finally showed up an hour later, he greeted Matt with a friendly smile and a solid pat on the back. Catching a whiff of what smelled like barbecue and cologne, Matt raised his eyebrow as he stood. “Sorry to interrupt your date.” Shrugging, Dawson flashed a lopsided smile. “Voight told me that after you spoke with one of the girls at Stilettos, you called him up right away. I’m just glad to have your help… even if it is 11 o’clock at night.” Matt told them everything he knew about Jack Nesbitt and his investors, which wasn’t much. Voight leaned against the counter and listened, only speaking when he had a question Dawson didn’t ask. They were as intrigued as he expected by the evidence Katya offered, and Matt used that to ensure they would protect her in return. When Voight instructed him to go to Nesbitt and “get his job back,” Matt uncomfortably scratched his neck. “That could be a problem.” Voight sighed with irritation, while Dawson cracked a tiny smile. “Why’s that?” Matt cringed, fully closing one eye and squinting the other. “The last time I was at Stilettos, Nesbitt kissed me… and I reacted about the way I would if you tried to kiss me,” he directed to Voight. Even holding a hand over his mouth, Dawson failed to hide his chuckle at the stunned look on Voight’s face. Matt awarded himself a point for leaving the sergeant at a loss for words. Somehow, that led into nearly thirty minutes of arguing, including more yelling from both Matt and Voight. The cops both thought he should take advantage of Nesbitt’s advances, using that to get close enough to learn about the men he was working for. Even if Matt wasn’t repulsed by the idea, he didn’t think he could pull it off. He wasn’t exactly a seductress – not to mention, he made his feelings about Nesbitt’s kiss pretty damn clear. Finally, Dawson convinced Voight to take ten, giving him a chance to talk with Matt one-on-one. “I’ve been reading up on non-monogamy,” he opened once Voight was gone. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but my understanding is that you and Severide have an open relationship. I know he’s also with Clarke. Can you help me understand the problem here?” Matt shook his head, annoyed. He liked Dawson a lot better than Voight, but this was an all-around aggravating conversation. “It’s not about cheating. It’s about honesty. It’s one thing to lie to Kelly about helping you on an investigation when telling him could put him in harm’s way. But going behind his back, flirting or worse with someone like Nesbitt and lying about it… Actually, for us, that is cheating. Not to mention, I’m not attracted to Nesbitt. I don’t think I can convincingly pretend that I’m suddenly interested now after the way I rejected his kiss.” Dawson nodded slowly, slouching in his seat. He fidgeted with his pen for a minute, apparently lost in thought. Finally, he leaned forward and folded his hands on the table, looking Matt in the eye. “We really need your help here, Casey. We’ve been trying to bust these guys for months, and we’re getting nowhere. If you can play Nesbitt without a sexual angle, that’s fine. But we need you to play him. Hopefully the stripper’s notebook –”“Katya,” Matt interjected. Dawson tipped his head. “Sorry. Hopefully Katya’s notebook will give us the evidence we need, but we can’t depend on that. You have my word – I will personally talk to Severide when this is over, make sure he understands that you only did it because there was no other way.” Matt reluctantly nodded. He hated every second of this… but he dug his own hole, and he wasn’t going to dig himself back out without getting dirt on his face. “Will you at least sit with me and brainstorm a couple of angles you might take with Nesbitt, so you’re prepared for whatever happens?” Lifting his eyebrows and jutting out his chin, Matt relented. He wasn’t really in a position to tell them no. “Okay.” Matt hoped his boyfriend would still be in bed when he turned his key in their front door, but he had no such luck. It wasn’t even five o’clock in the morning, but Kelly stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables, cookware spread out across the counter. Matt didn’t have the faintest idea what he was making. “Hi.” Kelly greeted him in a carefully guarded tone, resting his knife on the counter. He made eye contact with Matt, obviously hoping for something. “Hey,” Matt answered. Every fiber of his being wanted to flee to his room, but he forced himself to walk to the kitchen. He stood awkwardly at the end of the counter island, waiting for Kelly to speak. “How was your night?” Kelly asked, eyebrows raised. Matt chuckled wryly, looking down at the floor. “Uh, it was… long.” “Yeah?” Kelly prodded. When Matt didn’t respond, he neutrally added, “Where were you? I tried calling.” He didn’t sound angry, but his jaw was tight, and Matt felt a painful pang of guilt. He knew how much he would worry if Kelly didn’t come home. Cringing, Matt smacked his lips. “Out with Katya. My phone died.” Not many men found themselves carefully phrasing things to make their partners think they did sleep with a stripper. Matt’s stress headache was in full swing once more, and his mouth suddenly felt like cotton. Please forgive me.  “Katya? Really?” Kelly asked, raising his eyebrow. “It wasn’t Jack?” Matt gaped. “What? Are you out of your mind?” “Did you see the note he left you with the bourbon?” Responding to the accusing undertone in Kelly’s voice, Matt tensed. “No.” Suddenly, he remembered Nesbitt asking if he’d read the note. With everything else going on, that part of their encounter completely slipped his mind. “What did it say?” he asked. Kelly pulled a folded-up piece of paper from his pocket and slapped it down on the counter. “Here. Are… Are you drinking with this guy?” A lump rose in Matt’s throat when he read the message (‘holy fuck, my whole crew saw this’), but he tried to play it off. “Damn, this asshole is cocky,” he said, pushing the note aside with a performative roll of his eyes. “Nothing happened, Kelly.” He tried, but couldn’t bring himself to add, ‘I’m not drinking.’ Lying to his boyfriend made him feel sick. “Are you sure? ‘Cause it kinda sounds like something happened.” “No. It’s not like that,” Matt insisted, biting back a reminder that he could date anyone he wanted. He chafed against the idea that only Kelly could see other people, but even in his agitated state, he recognized that wasn’t what he meant to say. There was no need to muddy the water with that argument, too. Kelly sighed. “Okay. It’s – It’s okay if it is, though. You can hook up with anyone you want to, even if I don’t like them. Just tell me the truth.” Guilt tugged at Matt’s heartstrings again. Even angry, Severide was perfect. “I am,” Matt said, not sure if that was a lie or not. He wasn’t sleeping with Nesbitt or Katya, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth, either. “I – I decided to take the contracting gig, though. I’m going to work with Nesbitt on building more clubs.” Now it was Kelly’s turn to gape. “You’re serious? He’s under investigation for human trafficking.”  So much for ‘you can hook up with anyone you want.’ Matt couldn’t fault him, though. Working with Nesbitt really was a terrible idea. Matt nodded, staring at a fixed spot on the counter while he delivered the explanation Dawson helped him script. “Just because Voight thinks Nesbitt is a criminal doesn’t mean he is. We’re talking about the bastard who thought Clarke was a murderer. Twice. And Katya says it isn’t true. Nesbitt’s no saint, but the women at that club aren’t being trafficked. And it’s a great opportunity. I’ll have a steady job through the winter for at least this year.” “You’re doing this for money?” Kelly asked, sounding rightfully skeptical. “What, are you going to quit the CFD and go into the strip club business too?”  “No,” Matt said emphatically. “I’m not quitting the CFD. This is still just a side gig.” “You might wanna tell Truck 81 that,” Kelly said bitterly. Matt finally looked up at him again, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Your guys are out of control, not that you’ve been paying enough attention to notice,” Kelly snapped. “I talked to Rice, and he’s taking some time off to figure out whether he’s up for working Squad. But the way Otis has been riding him these past couple of weeks – you need to get him in line.” Matt scoffed. “You’re the one who was out for six weeks. If ‘my guys’ are out of control now, it’s because first you let Welch join your Squad, and then your buddy Rice spent that whole time ducking and putting the rest of us at risk.” Kelly’s expression darkened even further. “So you knew about this for weeks, and you didn’t bother telling me? I could have talked to him, even while I was off work. I could have helped him before anyone got hurt.” “You got blown up by a grenade!” Matt heard himself yell. “You weren’t supposed to be working!” “Now you’re mad at me for taking my medical leave?” Kelly asked.  “No,” Matt snapped, turning to the fridge for a bottle of… water, he guessed. Silencing his sigh of aggravation, he opened one up and took a long gulp. “Then what’s going on here, Matt?” “Before Rice and Welch got to 51, Otis was just as much family to you as Capp and Tony,” Matt bitterly reminded him. “Otis needs to remember his place,” Kelly shot back. “And so does the rest of Truck. It’s not their place to criticize my men.” “Oh, that’s just great,” Matt snapped. “The last thing this house needs is for you to start drawing lines between Truck and Squad again.” Kelly slammed his hand on the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You know, like when you decided Squad doesn’t vent – right before Darden went up in flames.” Matt regretted the words as soon as they escaped his tongue. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at his boyfriend. Clenching his fists, Kelly walked around the counter, getting rid of the barrier between their bodies. “Did – Did you really just say that?” he asked slowly, his eyes wide and dark. Matt almost backed up, but he forced himself to hold his ground. Kelly wouldn’t actually strike him, no matter how angry he got. They’d proven that a hundred times over. “I… I’m just trying to make the point –” “Oh, I got the point,” Kelly said, shaking his head. “Loud and clear.”Matt had no idea what to say. His own words were a punch to the gut, to him as well as Kelly. He felt winded, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen to his brain to form a coherent thought. Staring at his equally wounded boyfriend, Matt took a step backwards, toward the door. “I’m gonna go.” Kelly grabbed his upper arm, but before Matt could react, he let go. He took a step closer to Matt, though, not allowing him to retreat. “Don’t go. Tell me what’s going on.” Matt bit his tongue, remembering Voight’s warning. “Nothing.” “Matt, have you been drinking?” Kelly asked directly, his anger visibly diffusing as understanding set in. The blood drained from Matt’s face, confirming what Nesbitt already gave away. He stepped sideways, slipping away from his boyfriend. “No.” He couldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t even think about talking about it. “Matt…?” Kelly asked. Shaking his head, Matt continued backing away. His boyfriend stood rooted to the floor, seemingly frozen in place. Unable to bear the sight of tears forming in Kelly’s gorgeous blue eyes, Matt lost the courage to stay. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, then spun on his heel. He fled the apartment, letting the door slam behind him. He practically sprinted for the stairs, even though he heard no footsteps at his back. He had to get away. In the safety of the stairwell, his knees weakened, and he stumbled down the stairs. Clinging to the railing, he managed to hold himself upright, but he could barely control his descent. He hurried to the first floor as quickly as his trembling legs would carry him, relieved not to meet any of their neighbors on the stairs. He briskly walked across the lobby, pulling his phone from his pocket to call for an Uber before remembering the battery was still dead.  Fuck.  He didn’t have his truck, either, not that he was in any fit state to drive. That really only left one option, although where he was going to walk at 5:30 in the morning, he had no clue. At least he had his wallet. Kelly covered his mouth with his hands, leaning his hip against the counter.  Fuck.  He almost called Jeff, who’d gone home the night before so Kelly and Matt could talk privately after his dinner with Katya. He would be up soon anyway, and certainly a sympathetic ear for his hurt feelings. But… what the hell was he going to say? Complaining to one boyfriend about the other was a shitty move, and telling Jeff Matt was drinking – with Nesbitt – would be an even lower blow. Maybe not as low as blaming him for Darden’s death, but deep down, Kelly knew he had that one coming. It was Kelly’s fault Andy died, and Matt had to live forever with the memory of watching his best friend go up in flames. As much as they all might try to pretend it wasn’t his fault, enabling Kelly to move on with his life… Matt was right. Andy would still be alive if Kelly had just swallowed his pride and ordered Squad to vent the house. And that was what hurt. Leaving his phone on the counter, he collapsed on the couch. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to restore feeling to his cheeks. His skin felt numb, like he’d been outside for hours in the Chicago wind. He tried to remember the advice he’d heard about alcoholics and relapse – Matt needed his support, now more than ever – but memories of Andy flooded his mind. 
Andy laughing, planning yet another middle school prank.

Andy sighing, preparing to scold Kelly for getting in yet another fist fight in high school.

Andy crying, overwhelmed with fear when he found out he was going to be a dad at 21.

Andy pacing, forcing Kelly to follow him around the room while tying his tie before his wedding.

Andy grinning, high-fiving both Kelly and Matt after their first rescue together at House 51.

And Andy’s charred skin as Kelly crashed to his knees at his side, a wordless scream tearing itself from his throat. 
Kelly sobbed, the heartbreak he’d felt in that moment hitting him anew. In some ways, Andy was his first love. It was never romantic – Darden was as straight as they came – but Kelly learned how to love from his very first friend. He wished he could talk to Andy now. On the other hand, Darden would probably kick his ass. A few hours later, past breakfast time in Colorado, Kelly called his little sister. He needed to talk to someone, and Katie was the only person he could think of with enough distance from Matt. She answered in a cheerful tone, and he heard music in the background. “Hey… Are you busy?” “No,” she denied, becoming more serious in response to his cracking voice. “What’s up?” Kelly ran a hand across his forehead, doubting his choice to call. “I – I’m just having kind of a rough morning, I guess.” There was a pause, and the music stopped. “What’s wrong?” Kelly squeezed his eyes shut. Do I say it or not? “Well, first, I guess I should ask – you and Otis?” “Actually, I’m seeing someone new. I’ve been meaning to tell you about him. Otis is a great guy, but I don’t see myself coming back to Chicago, so we decided we’re better off as friends.” Kelly nodded to himself. “Okay. Well, I can’t wait to hear about your new guy… But I need to ask you not to tell Otis any of this, alright?” “Of course,” she assured him. “You’re my brother and he’s my ex – it’s not even a competition. What’s going on, Kelly?” Kelly sighed, giving in to his desire to open up to someone. “I’m pretty sure Matt relapsed. He came home at 5 a.m., claiming he spent the whole night with this stripper he met on a construction job, and I’m like 90% sure he was hungover.” “Shit,” Katie swore. “Is he okay? Are you okay?” Kelly groaned, rubbing his forehead again. “I don’t know. Probably not. I – I didn’t realize he was drunk, or hungover, until after we got in a fight. It was a bad one. Then I realized he’d been drinking, and he literally ran out of the apartment. That was… four hours ago.” “Have you called him?” Kelly hesitated. Calling Matt hadn’t even crossed his mind. “No. Pretty sure we’d just yell at each other again.” Katie sighed. “Well, then maybe… don’t yell. If he’s having that hard of a time, he isn’t going to be able to take the high ground.” Kelly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t yell,” as advice, was about as useful to him as telling someone in a burning building “just don’t inhale the smoke.” He went into every conversation with good intentions – well, most of them, anyway – but his temper had a way of getting away from him. “I mean… I can try,” he said doubtfully. “Do you want to think about what you would say?” Kelly stifled a groan. It turned out that having a little sister was an awful lot like having a second therapist. “Um… Well, I – I would tell him that I’m worried. That I love him, and I want him to come home.” “And… you’re planning to yell that?” Her sarcasm took him by surprise, and he snorted. “No... I’m not planning to yell. But… nobody has ever been able to push my buttons the way Matt does. I think he does it on purpose sometimes – he riles me up as much as he can to distract me from whatever we need to talk about. And he’s really fucking good at it.”  “Well… You’re in couple’s therapy, right?” Katie asked. “Not really,” Kelly clarified, rubbing his temples. “I have a therapist, and sometimes Matt comes with me so we can work through something… but I don’t think he’s going to go for that right now.” “You never really know until you try, though, right?” “Mmm,” Kelly hummed, picking at the seam of his pants. “Look, bro… I don’t really believe in soulmates, or ‘the one,’ or any of that crap. But I do believe that you and Matt are right for each other. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. No relationship is, and your relationship sounds more complex than most.”  That’s an understatement.  Katie continued. “It sounds like Matt’s going through a really hard time right now. Don’t take too much shit, but don’t take it personally. Even if he thinks it’s about you, it probably isn’t. It’s about some wound of his that needs to heal.” “He told me that once,” Kelly recalled, remembering Matt’s struggle to first get sober.  Just eight months ago, he calculated, shaking his head with surprise. Damn, Matt’s been through enough in those eight months for a lifetime.  First, his truck got blown up, his house caught on fire, his hospital bed almost burnt with him in it and he evacuated the hospital floor in a gown and pajamas. Then, mere days after his return to work, he and Welch – a man he hated – nearly got gunned down in the street, and his “reward” for saving Welch was that Kelly decided to keep him around the firehouse like a stray dog. Less than a month after that, he ended up with another concussion after the bombing at Chicago Med, and then he got hurt at work again because of Rice… it was like the world’s most depressing country song. Matt dealt with it well – a lot better than Kelly. He’d always been good at rolling with the punches, putting up with whatever shit life threw at him. Maybe that was the problem. “You guys will be okay,” Katie assured him. “But if you need to talk, I’m always here for you. Except during the dinner rush.” Kelly chuckled. “Thanks, sis. I love you.” “I love you too.” The moment that call disconnected, Kelly pulled up Matt’s contact in his phone. His thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment while he gathered his nerve. Finally, he pushed the button… and seconds later, he heard the familiar “hi, this is Casey” of his boyfriend’s voicemail greeting. Stinging with rejection, he stared up at the ceiling until he heard the beep. “Hi, angel.” He cleared his throat. “I know you won’t listen to this message until after we’ve made up, so I guess you get to hear it twice: I’m sorry. I love you. And I will always love you. I… I just hope you’re ready to come home and hear that soon. Stay safe.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The second-worst day of Matt Casey’s life started out close to perfect. That fact would haunt him for years. The morning of a tragedy should start with storm clouds – an alarm clock that didn’t go off, a flat tire on the way to work, a general sense of malaise. This morning was all sunshine – waking up next to Hallie, a long, hot shower, and humming along to the radio on the drive to Firehouse 51. That wasn’t how bad days were supposed to work. There were supposed to be warning signs, something to prepare him for the tragedy to come. Not birds singing outside his window while he kissed his fiancée awake. Maybe if he hadn’t lain in bed that morning listening to the birds, he would have been half a second quicker pulling Darden back. Maybe if he wasn’t on cloud nine that morning, he would have realized Squad 3 was never going to vent that house. Maybe if he wasn’t so wrapped up in his own happiness, he could have saved both his best friends. Those thoughts kept him up at night for months after Andy died. Even after 10 years in the fire service, Matt’s heart beat a little faster when the klaxons alerted them to a call. That morning, the bell went off just minutes after roll call – another good omen for the day. Eager to get to work, his crew geared up and piled into the ladder truck, successfully pulling out before Squad 3. (It wasn’t a competition, except in the way that everything was a competition between Truck and Squad… especially in the past two years.) They joked around like any other morning, Darden playing with his SCBA to make them laugh. He’d always been a class clown, doing whatever he could think of to get the other guys – or victims – to crack a smile. Despite the childishness of his methods, they worked: He could diffuse even the tensest moments with ease. He’d honed those skills through a decade of friendship with Matt and Kelly, managing to keep their trio intact through three messy break-ups and seemingly endless stupid fights. Once they reached the scene of a call, though, Darden was all in every time. That morning, the scene was a green two-story house with light gray smoke rolling from the windows. An anxious woman paced on the sidewalk, worrying about her missing brother who lived upstairs. Flames were visible through the first-floor windows, but the structure wasn’t yet fully engulfed – they still had time to make the save. Darden jumped into action, preparing to raise the aerial without needing an order, while Severide cheekily bet them a case of beer Squad would find the man first. “Just vent the back,” Matt brushed him off, fondly rolling his eyes. As long as someone made the save, it didn’t matter who… but he could only pretend not to enjoy it when his guys got there first. Squad 3 continued around to the back of the house, Capp giving Matt a slight nod as he took up the rear. Matt joined Darden at the truck, grabbing the gear they would take up the aerial. “Has Severide always been such a cocky prick?” “Only since kindergarten,” Darden automatically responded, completing the familiar exchange. While Engine 51 got a line on the house, Matt and Andy made their way up the ladder to the attic window. As usual, Darden took the lead, preparing to break the window with his Halligan while Matt checked in with Squad. Matt struggled to remember the order of the following events, and he was the only one alive to know. He was pretty sure he radioed Squad to check on their vent before Darden broke the window, but he couldn’t be certain. Either way, by the time Kelly answered in the negative, Andy was inside the house. He knew what was coming a split second before it happened – not enough time to act, but enough to torture him for years. He screamed for Darden to come back, but somehow, he was already halfway down the hall. (Griffin was the same way as a toddler, but he eventually outgrew it.) Andy turned to look at him with a curious tip of his head, but his expression soon transformed to one of horror. Matt would always claim Darden never saw death coming – that was a memory just for him. Darden screamed, and the flames engulfed him from behind. Matt kept his eyes locked on his friend for as long as he could, but the flashover reached the window within seconds, forcing him to save himself. When he lifted his head again, his best friend was gone. There was nobody else in the house. What should have been a relief came as a punch to Matt’s gut. A crushing realization that it was all for nothing. This didn’t have to happen – the man he sent Darden through that window to save was never even there. This is on me. He nodded grimly in response to the news, slapping Husting on the shoulder. “Thanks.” There were no extraordinary measures. Darden was clearly dead where he fell, unrecognizable but for what remained of his turnout gear. If Matt hadn’t seen him go down, he wouldn’t have been able to identify which of his men it was on sight alone. Department policy required them to leave his body inside until the coroner, district chief, and OFI arrived to start their investigation. Unable to bear standing next to his best friend’s corpse, Matt silently made his way back outside. He was only vaguely aware of everything happening around him – Boden shouting orders, Engine and some of his own men making sure the fire was fully out, Dawson anxiously making sure he wasn’t injured. “I’m fine,” he muttered, waving her off. Between the ringing in his ears and the tears stinging his eyes, Matt almost felt lost. He was the lieutenant; he should be leading his men, telling them what to do next. But they seemed to know better than he did at the moment, going about their work while he struggled to stand upright. 
“Casey!” 
When Matt looked up, the only thing visible through the blur of tears was Severide, walking toward him with his helmet in hand. “Sev…” he croaked, taking a single step towards his friend. Dropping the helmet, Kelly grabbed his shoulders, and suddenly, he was being shaken. Staring blankly, Matt tried to put his hands on Kelly’s arms. “Sev… Kelly…”  Kelly’s lips retracted, baring his teeth, and the rush of relief Matt felt upon seeing him dissipated. Nauseated, he tried again to address him, managing only a hoarse whisper. “Kelly– Kel… I–”  “You… I told you we didn’t have a vent!” Kelly shouted, a stark contrast to Matt’s whisper. He shook off Matt’s hands with a push that propelled him backwards, making him stumble as his foot left the sidewalk. “Why would you send him in?” “I – I didn’t – I called him back,” Matt tried to explain. “I told him not…” Kelly shoved him again, knocking his back against one of the rigs. “Don’t you fucking dare try to blame him. You were his officer. You killed him.” Matt stared at him in wide-eyed horror, slowly shaking his head. “Kel…” Severide curled his lip, looking at Matt in utter disgust. “He was all I had left, and now he’s gone – he’s dead because of you. You – You take everything from me. I fucking hate you.” He drew back his fist, and Matt’s stomach flipped. Time seemed to freeze, giving him what felt like a lifetime to brace himself for the blow. Every other time that he’d been in this position, staring down someone about to throw a punch, his instinct was to fight back – but this was Kelly. Wincing, he turned his head to the side, not wanting to remember the hatred in his former lover’s eyes every time he relived this moment. “Fuck, Matt,” Kelly whispered instead, lowering his hand to his side. “Damn.”   Someone pulled him away after that, and Mouch steered Matt in the opposite direction, briskly rubbing the arm of his turnout coat. Kelly yelled in the background, now fighting with whoever was manhandling him. “What do I do?” Matt hollowly asked the more experienced firefighter. He’d seen men die in the line of duty before, but never under his command. He knew there were procedures. But what were they? Suddenly, he had no clue. “There isn’t much left to do here. Dawson and Shay are sedating Severide and transporting him to the hospital. Chief’s orders. Once the coroner arrives, the rest of us will go back to quarters. Chaplain Orlovsky will meet us there. The house is out of service for now, but the department is calling floaters and guys from 1st and 3rd Shift to come in and cover.” “Heather,” Matt remembered, his legs nearly giving out. “How–?” Herrmann came up on his other side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Lieutenant.” Mouch and Herrmann guided Matt to a relatively private spot against the wall of another house, eased him onto the ground, and pressed a bottle of water into his hand. They spoke, but he didn’t hear, his attention locked on the scene playing out across the street. Hadley and Capp each held one of Severide’s shoulders, trying to force him onto a stretcher while he screamed semi-coherent threats. Shay stood pale and frozen a few feet from the ambulance, her expression reflecting every bit of the horror Matt felt. After a few seconds, Dawson jumped down from the ambulance and came up behind Kelly, narrowly dodging an elbow. She must have injected him with a syringe Matt couldn’t see, because he turned to yell at her before slumping against Hadley’s chest. He wasn’t unconscious, though – continuing to flail his arms and legs, he landed a weak kick on Capp’s inner thigh, then slammed his head against Hadley’s throat. Shay finally jumped into action, then, pushing Capp aside. To Matt’s relief, the medic seemed more interested in comforting Kelly than subduing him. While Hadley and Dawson strapped his waist, arms, and legs to the gurney, she stroked his hair and whispered in his ear. Severide’s protests quieted, but even as they loaded him in the ambulance, he struggled against the restraints. Shay alone rode in the back with Kelly, fixing Hadley with a glare that made him raise his hands in surrender when he tried to climb inside. The sound of the ambulance doors slamming in his face echoed in the street. A lump rising in his throat, Matt turned away and closed his eyes. At least he still has Shay.  “That kid has a lot of fight,” Mouch observed. “He’ll get through this, Casey. You both will.” “Will Griffin and Ben?” Matt whispered without meaning to. Holding the cold water bottle against his forehead, he took a deep, shaky breath. “God, what have I done?” “You did not do this,” Herrmann declared. “This wasn’t on you, Lieutenant,” Mouch said at the same time. After exchanging glances with Mouch, Herrmann lowered his voice and continued. “I heard you ordering Darden not to go in. We all know how – how eager Darden’s always been. We’re all shocked and heartbroken right now, but this isn’t going to come down on you. You did everything right.” Matt’s throat clenched, and his nose and eyes burned. If I did everything right, Andy would be safe. He was the lieutenant. If his men didn’t follow his orders, it was because he failed to teach them. He nodded silently, though, either unwilling or unable to voice those thoughts aloud. The ambulance drove away, the coroner’s van pulled up, and Matt shakily got to his feet. By the time they returned to quarters, Matt’s head started to clear. The firehouse was eerily quiet, the normal din and hubbub replaced by silence but for an occasional sigh. While most of the men trailed towards either the common room or the showers, Matt followed Chief Boden to his office. The staff in the bullpen met them with red-rimmed eyes, having heard the news from dispatch. Matt nodded numbly in response to their condolences, not remembering a word. “Has anyone talked to Heather yet?” he asked as soon as Boden closed the door. The battalion chief turned to study him for a long moment, then slightly shook his head. “Not yet. Deputy district chief will go to the house soon.” “It should be me.” Seeing Boden’s raised eyebrow, Matt swallowed the lump in his throat, then spoke with more confidence. “Even if I don’t tell her, I should be there for her and the boys… after. I’m Ben’s godfather.” “You’re in shock, Casey,” Boden said frankly. “You’re in no state to make the notification. Not right now. The department will notify her, and you can go over there this evening.” “I’m solid, Chief,” Matt insisted, willing it to be true. “I can do this. And I owe it to Andy.” Three minutes later, Matt hurried to shower and change while Boden got the deputy district chief on the phone. Not allowing himself to look at Darden’s locker, he set a new personal record for changing into clean clothes. He briefly considered changing into his dress uniform, but quickly ruled that out – he didn’t want Heather and the boys to see two men in dress blues walking to their door. Dressed in a clean gray polo and a fresh, crisp pair of trousers, he numbly walked past the group of firefighters loitering outside the locker room. “Casey,” the boldest of them – Vargas – tried to stop him. “Chief and I are going to talk to the Darden family,” he said flatly. “Text me if you decide to meet up somewhere tonight.” “Will do, Lieutenant,” Cruz said softly. Matt felt their eyes on his back all the way out the door. As promised, Matt did get a text from Cruz a few hours later, as well as from Dawson, Mouch, Vargas, and both Herrmann and Cindy. Each of them offered him company for the evening – the crew from 51 was gathering at the tavern closest to the firehouse, and the Herrmanns offered him the guest room at their new house for the night so he wouldn’t have to be alone. All their messages went unanswered. By the time Matt made it home, all he wanted was to sit on the couch with a bottle of scotch. He couldn’t even fathom the thought of meeting up with them, going through the motions of a night out at a bar. With Hallie on a 24-hour shift at Lakeshore, he didn’t even have to turn on the lights. He sat there, nearly motionless, long into the night. The only time he got up was to return to the kitchen after finishing his scotch, retrieving what was left of the box of Guinness he and Hallie opened that weekend. He fell asleep after drinking just one of those, but woke minutes later with sweat soaking through his shirt. Groaning, he yanked his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. That didn’t satisfy him, so he threw one of the couch pillows, too. The pillow knocked everything off the coffee table, and he succumbed to the sudden impulse to knock the whole thing over.Screaming, he kicked the lightweight wooden table as hard as he could, making it fly across the room. The table crashed against the floor, and Matt finally exhaled. He stood there panting for a minute or two, staring silently at the mess on the floor. The room was still spinning, but he finally felt stable enough to hold on. Once his breathing was under control, he set everything back to rights, making it look like his tantrum never happened. The table showed no signs of damage, the couch cushion went back in place, and he arranged Hallie’s clutter exactly where she left it on the table. He put his clothing in the hamper, changed into sweatpants and an undershirt, and brushed his teeth with his eyes closed, unable to look his mirror image in the eye. When he opened his second bottle of Guinness, it was with both a lamp and the television on. His hands no longer trembled, and he slumped back against the couch. Maybe when he woke up the next morning, it would all turn out to be a dream.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kelly didn’t hear from Matt at all that day. After hanging up with Katie and leaving his heartfelt voicemail for Matt, he decided to get out of the apartment. He wrote a note on a napkin and left it on the counter, just in case Matt came home, then went to work out his feelings on a punching bag at the gym. After the gym, he picked up lunch for Shay at the cafe next door. He looked the cashier in the eye while ordering Shay’s pina colada smoothie and avocado grilled cheese, daring him to comment. For himself, he ordered a bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, and a cup of chili, ready to eat the feelings he couldn’t burn off at the gym. It was a warm, sunny day, so Shay suggested a walk after lunch. She couldn’t get far from the house on her own because of the condition of the sidewalks, but with Kelly to lift her wheelchair over curbs, she was unstoppable. “So, what’s wrong with you?” Kelly glanced at the time on his phone, surprised it took all of lunch and five blocks of cracked sidewalks for her to raise the question. Either Shay was slipping, or she decided to take what she considered a subtle approach. “Matt and I got in a stupid fight,” he confided. “I don’t really want to get into the details. Sorry if I seem grumpy.” “You don’t seem grumpy,” Shay assured him, stopping to wait while Kelly moved a ‘road work ahead’ sign blocking her path. “Just broody.” “Oh, that’s a good one. My therapist doesn’t have ‘broody’ on her wheel.” “She should add it.” “I’ll let her know,” Kelly assured her. “You gonna be okay, though?” Shay asked more seriously. Kelly slowly exhaled, looking down at the sidewalk. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Shay playfully bumped her shoulder against his hip. “You better be, or I’ll kick your ass.” Towards that end, Kelly went to his support group that night. It was his first time attending without Matt, but it seemed more productive than either Plan A (sitting at home until Matt decided to show his face) or Plan B (getting drunk enough to fall off his barstool at Molly’s). Plan C (driving over to Stilettos to break Jack Nesbitt’s nose) was more of a fantasy than a plan. It was an addiction support group, so maybe he would hear something that could help Matt down the line. And, if he was absolutely honest with himself, he held out a tiny bit of hope that Matt might show up. His boyfriend was a creature of habit, and he probably wouldn’t expect Kelly to be there without him. If Kelly was trying to avoid himself, a room full of people talking about their feelings would be the place to hide. Despite his low expectations, a wave of disappointment washed over him when Chuck called the meeting to order with no Matt in sight. He shook it off, though, listening as attentively as he could while the other group members shared. Most of their meetings developed a theme as people related to one another, even when crosstalk wasn’t allowed. That evening, the theme was family. The first speaker talked about growing up with alcoholic parents, swearing he would never take a drink – only to get hooked on opioids after breaking his leg on the job. After that, everyone wanted to talk about their parents, even guys who rarely said a word. Apparently, complaining about one’s parents was a universal pastime. When it was Stella’s turn to speak, Kelly perked up a little. While most people used their shares as a chance to vent, Stella always wrapped up her stories with some nugget of insight. Kelly was in the market for insight that evening – anything that might help him help Matt. “Most of you know, pretty much everyone in my family has struggled with some kind of addiction. It seemed kind of inevitable that I would end up just like the rest of them. And for a while, I did. But then I was lucky enough to be the passenger in a DUI. After the Rescue Squad pulled me out, the hospital gave me an opportunity to go to rehab. Waking up while firefighters cut me out of a mangled car was a real turning point for me – rock bottom, I guess. It made me realize, if I wanted to live long enough to have a better life than my mom, I had to make some big changes, then and there. So I did, and I feel really blessed that I had the help I needed at the moment I was ready to accept it.” Remembering his fateful conversation with Gabby Dawson more than two years ago, Kelly joined most of the group in nodding in agreement. If Dawson hadn’t been there for him to turn to after the ambulance crashed with Shay inside, he would probably be dead or at least fired from the CFD by now. Stella continued, “As first responders, we all have a little bit of a ‘saving people thing.’ One of the hardest things for me when I first got clean was not being able to save my family… especially Grant. I was finally learning how to be happy, but it killed me that I couldn’t share that with the people I loved. I invited, I encouraged, I nagged, I straight up begged… but it’s true, you can’t force anyone to heal before they’re ready. All I can do is set boundaries to protect my own sobriety and make sure they know I’m willing to help them when they’re ready.” That wasn’t exactly the answer Kelly hoped to hear, but he recognized the truth in it. He couldn’t force sobriety on Matt last summer, and it had to be Matt’s choice again now. Feeling a bit deflated, he stared down at the table while Chuck brought the meeting to a close. After the meeting, Stella invited him to tag along for milkshakes at Franco’s. He wanted to go home to see if Matt was there yet, but he forced himself to accept. He would only be disappointed again when Matt still wasn’t home, and he could use the company. Most weeks, a group of 5 or 6 people hung out at the diner, but this time, it was just Stella and Chuck. Kelly found that slightly suspicious, but apparently, a bunch of the alcoholics were planning to hit up an AA meeting down the street. After they settled into their booth and ordered their milkshakes, Kelly checked his phone. Still not a peep from Matt. Biting his lip, he thought about sending another text, but then he realized his companions were staring. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized, putting his phone face down on the table. “Where’s Matt this evening? I don’t think we’ve ever seen you without him.” Chuck’s tone was neutral, but Kelly’s hackles still went up. His instinct was to make excuses for his boyfriend, but he remembered how well it went when Shay did that for him. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I was hoping he’d be at the meeting.” Nobody responded to that. For almost a minute, the air was thick with awkward silence. “So now that it’s just us, you wanna spill the dirt on the Severide family?” Stella teased, changing the subject. Kelly chuckled, rubbing his wrist. He guessed that would be less uncomfortable than talking about Matt. “Sure. Uh, my mom is an alcoholic. My dad probably is, too, but he would never admit it. There was no end to their drama when I was coming up. Benny was in and out of our lives from the time I was about 10. Turns out I had a baby sister around that time, but I didn’t know about her until she was 21. When I met her, I assumed she was one of Benny’s girlfriends. Confronted her about it in the street.”He smiled at their reactions before transitioning to a less amusing story. “When I was 16, summer before my senior year, Mom walked in on Benny in bed with my English teacher.” Stella cringed, while Chuck looked entirely unsurprised. Coming up in the CFD at the same time as Benny, he’d probably heard stories. Half of Kelly’s own reputation as a lady’s man was based on his father’s legacy. “My mom flipped out, but not on Benny – on me. She acted like I knew, like it was somehow my fault because it was my teacher. Like I wasn’t completely grossed out by the whole thing.” They all smiled at that, although Chuck and Stella’s smiles looked more pitying than he would have liked. He kept going, though, telling an abbreviated version of the story his therapist helped him piece together. “Things fell apart at home after that. I confronted Benny about cheating on my mom, we got into it, and he had me thrown in jail overnight. Mom checked herself into rehab for the third time a couple days after that, and I didn’t see Benny for three or four months. I spent that summer living with my friend April down the street. Her parents always treated me like their own. I probably would’ve had a problem sooner if I hadn’t had their support growing up.” “Do you feel like your parents’ habits influenced your addiction?” Chuck asked. Kelly gratefully accepted his milkshake from the waitress. Thinking over his answer, he slowly unwrapped his straw and folded the wrapper in a tidy square. “Indirectly. At the time, my parents were the last thing on my mind. But looking back… I think I tend to cope the same way they do, by running away. When the problem was a neck injury and I was afraid of losing my career, my way of running away was a vial of Tramadol.” By the time they finished their milkshakes, Kelly almost felt like he should pay Chuck and Stella for an hour of therapy. They didn’t talk about Matt at all, but Kelly’s mind worked in overtime, applying everything they discussed to his boyfriend. Matt’s behavior that morning screamed “fear,” but Kelly was too busy losing his temper to realize that at the time. Remembering his own response to being backed into a corner, his lingering frustration with Matt dissipated. When they left the diner, Kelly walked Stella back to her car. The woman was clearly capable of taking care of herself, but it seemed like the friendly thing to do. “So… What’s up with Matt?” she asked the moment they parted ways with Chuck. Pressing his lips together, Kelly shrugged, not sure how to answer. Stella stopped in the middle of the parking lot, taking him by the wrist. “You two are a couple, right?” Kelly wasn’t sure if he was breathing in that moment, but before he knew it, he confirmed it with a nod. “Yes. Of ten years.” “And nobody knows?” Stella asked, raising her eyebrow. She wasn’t quite smiling, but her tone was light enough to ease his nerves. Smiling proudly, Kelly shook his head. “Actually, a lot of people know. But not everyone. Our battalion chief, but nobody above him, and not many people in our house. In other parts of our life outside of the CFD, we get to be more open.” “You seem good together,” Stella commented. “I kind of had a feeling the first time you guys walked in.” Kelly chuckled, rubbing his neck. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Matt that, okay? He likes to think nobody notices.” “Is he okay? It really is strange to see you without him.” Kelly studied her expression, but he saw nothing but genuine concern. “I don’t know. I think he’s drinking again, but he doesn’t seem ready to have a conversation about it.” Stella’s mouth thinned and her brows knitted together with concern. “I’m sorry to hear that, Kelly. I know we just had milkshakes, but do you want to go somewhere and talk about it? I probably can’t fix it, but I’m pretty good at listening.” After a few seconds’ hesitation, Kelly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great. Just… let me text Matt, in case he’s expecting me at home. He’s probably not, but…” Smiling empathetically, Stella took a step back. “Okay. You do that, I’ll look up the closest place to get…?” Kelly thought about it for a second. Even though neither of them was an alcoholic, going out drinking after their support group was frowned upon. “Tacos? There’s a place two blocks that way.” “You really know your taco joints, huh, Lieutenant?” Smiling, he shook his head while typing out a quick note to Matt. “Hey babe, I’m catching dinner with Stella after group. Text me if you want tacos.”  “This is my district, and they had a kitchen accident a couple months ago,” he explained to Stella. “They brought a party pack of tacos by the firehouse after the cook got his finger stitched back on, and they’re actually pretty good.” Stella laughed. “Sounds like a classy place.” “You’ll be impressed,” Kelly promised. “Come on.” Matt felt nothing but cold, righteous anger when he walked into Stilettos that night. It had been a long-ass day of avoiding Kelly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to lie to his boyfriend’s face, while resisting the temptation to take the edge off his nerves before going to make nice with Nesbitt. No alcohol, no Kelly, and no shift to work made for a boring day. After he ran out of their apartment, he walked aimlessly until he hit an L-train stop. He took the train to get his truck, thankful he at least had his wallet on him when he went with Voight the night before. To his relief, it hadn’t been towed from the pharmacy lot, and he caught about 40 minutes of a dead-to-the-world kind of sleep in the cab before turning his key in the ignition. He thought about throwing what remained of last night’s wine in a nearby dumpster, but he might need that by the end of the day. He then drove to a park – a small one, where he and Kelly never went – and spent two or three hours just sitting in the grass, staring blankly at the empty playground. He was vaguely aware that his disheveled appearance would probably scare off any parents and their children, but fortunately, most kids were in school. He expected his emotions to catch up with him there, but for once, his heart did him a solid by staying numb. He didn’t even want to imagine what state he would be in by the time he saw Nesbitt if he let himself spend the day thinking about Andy and Voight and the heartbreak he put in Kelly Severide’s eyes. By the time 8 PM rolled around, he was far less worried than pissed off. His situation sucked, yes, but what Nesbitt was doing to these women was so much worse. This bastard was a former firefighter, getting rich by enslaving and trafficking human beings. Matt would rather punch him in the face than flirt with him at a club. 
Later. After Katya is safe. 
He saw Katya dancing when he walked in, but this time he didn’t stop to watch. He found Nesbitt standing near the bar. Looking down at his phone, he barely noticed Matt’s approach.  This is just like roleplaying with Kelly, Matt reminded himself. Just slip into character.  “I read your note,” Matt informed him, placing a friendly hand on the shoulder of Nesbitt’s navy blue sports coat. He didn’t allow his mind to complete a thought about how the man paid for his expensive clothes. “And I owe you an apology.” Nesbitt looked up at him with surprise, quickly clearing the screen of his phone. Oh, probably should’ve snuck a peek at that.  (What could he say? There was a reason he became a fireman and not a cop.) “Matt,” the weasel greeted him, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t expect to see you here again.” Cringing with what he hoped would pass as regret, Matt squeezed Nesbitt’s shoulder. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. Um…” He glanced around, pretending to worry about being overheard. “Look, Jack… I’m not ‘out’ at work, but there are rumors. When you left me that bourbon – which I really appreciate, by the way – all my men saw it, and you know how firefighters can be. I – well, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m still kind of struggling with my sexuality.” Nesbitt cringed himself, turning to face Matt while he leaned on the bar beside him. “Oh, I didn’t realize. I’ve seen you with men, so I just assumed.” “Two scotches, on the rocks,” Matt ordered from the bartender. “Thanks.” Nesbitt gave him a quizzical look, but his guard seemed to be dropping. “Are you buying me a drink in my own place?” he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Suddenly finding the other man standing half a step closer, Matt forced himself to relax. “Listen, Jack…” Nesbitt slapped him on the shoulder while the bartender poured their drinks. “It’s okay if you’re not interested in my other offer. It’s out there if you change your mind. The real question is, do you want to work with me to make more money in a year than you can make at the CFD in five?” Matt raised his eyebrow, relieved for a reprieve from the need to flirt. “I’m not sure you know how much CFD officers get paid these days.” “I’m not sure you know how much straight men will pay for this,” Nesbitt countered, nodding towards Katya and the other dancers. “Do you make all your money from the cover charges and drinks?” Matt asked curiously, roleplaying as someone with a budding interest in the strip club business. “The girls get to keep their tips, right?” Nesbitt chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Matt,” he smiled. “But yes, my employees – dancers, bartenders, and servers – keep all the tips. But in addition to the things you mentioned, I make a lot off of private events. The new champagne room will be great for that, too. Guys will pay a couple hundred bucks an hour for the VIP treatment.” Matt nodded slowly, grateful the scotch was coating his stomach enough to spare him a wave of disgust. “The job is still up for grabs?” Nesbitt smirked. “It is. I might have held out some hope that you would reconsider.” Raising his eyebrows, Matt extended his hand for Nesbitt to shake. Making a deal with the devil. “As long as you don’t mind that I can only be on site 2 or 3 days a week… I’m in.” Smiling like that was the best news he’d heard all year, Nesbitt raised his scotch for a toast. “Drink up, Casey. We’re celebrating tonight.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

For his first month in the Fire Academy, Matt’s life could best be described as a happy blur. He spent the daylight hours of every weekday at the Academy, soaking up all the knowledge he could. They spent most of their mornings in a classroom, and after lunch, they had more practical lessons, drills, and PE. After each day ended, he walked home, made dinner, and either studied or practiced more. He went to bed exhausted by 11 o’clock, but when his alarm went off at 5:30, he woke up excited for the day ahead. On the weekends, he spent more time studying, often meeting up with his fellow recruits. Having someone to compete with gave him an extra spark of motivation, and between Darden and Severide, reviewing flashcards and working math problems reached a new decibel of fun. After being kicked out of both a library and a café, they took to gathering at the apartment where Severide, Darden, and his girlfriend Heather lived. At first, other recruits joined them, but most soon sought out less chaotic places to study. The yelling, laughter, and motion suited Matt, though. He’d always been a hands-on learner, and his new friends took that to a whole new level. The one dark cloud in his life was Griffin, the grouchy redhead from his first day. For no reason Matt could think of, the guy had it out for him. He wasn’t nice to anyone, but he went out of his way to bully Matt. On their second group run, Griffin nearly pushed him into traffic, and during their drills two weeks later, he tripped him with a hose while he ran up the stairs. He was left with a bruise on his ribs from slamming against the corner of the landing, but at least he didn’t tumble down the stairs. The day after that, Griffin pushed past Matt and Darden to get up the aerial first, nearly causing them both to fall to their deaths. “You need to say something,” Severide told him after that. “This isn’t just being a dick. He could get you seriously hurt.” “I can handle it,” Matt assured him. He’d dealt with bullies before. It just gave him another reason to stay sharp. About three weeks in, Matt started to notice that groups of people fell silent when he walked past. He brushed it off at first, too focused on the Academy to worry about a few awkward moments. It was probably all in his head, and if not, it definitely wasn’t worth his time. A few days later, though, he walked up on a group of guys with absolutely atrocious situational awareness. They kept talking long after he entered the classroom, apparently unaware of his presence. “Yeah, it’s true. Griffin found copies of the newspaper articles, her mugshot, and the obituary listing Casey as his son. She pled guilty to second-degree murder, there wasn’t even a trial.” “Wait, isn’t there a rule that you can’t be affiliated with felons?” Carter asked. “Could he get kicked out?” “That means like gangs and shit, dumbass,” another recruit scoffed. Matt froze for a few seconds, torn between confronting them, laughing, or walking out of the room. “Hey asshole, how about you worry about your own career?” Severide solved his conundrum from the doorway. “I saw you got a 24 on yesterday’s quiz, Carter. How does that even happen?” The other recruits moved on to harassing Carter, then, temporarily forgetting Matt. He avoided making eye contact with anyone while they took their seats, especially Darden and Severide. It wasn’t easy, since the three of them shared a table, but he stared down at his notes throughout the entire lecture. It was naive to think nobody would find out about his past… but it had been so long since he heard anyone mention it aloud. Even when he spoke to Christie or visited his mom, they expertly steered clear of the subject. (His mother’s ability to avoid the subject while wearing a beige jumpsuit and surrounded by block walls continued to impress him, years later.) He didn’t even worry about someone putting it together anymore. Casey was a common enough surname, and his first name was left out of the news. Except for the obituary, of course… He wondered now what his relatives were thinking, but in the haze of shock and grief, they probably didn’t think that through. He barely understood a word of the lecture, despite taking careful notes. The words went in his ears and out his pen without passing through his brain. His classmates’ eyes bore into his back, making him conscious of every breath. He couldn’t show any hint of vulnerability, or they would be on him like vultures. Whatever collaboration and team-building the Academy was meant to inspire, there was already a cutthroat competition for the best candidate spots one month in. And Matt was near the top of the pack. This was just the kind of revelation some of the other recruits would use to their advantage. Matt stayed quiet for the rest of the day, only speaking when spoken to. Severide and Darden gave him his space, eyeing him in a way that left him wanting to sink into the floor. Maybe he should have told them the story sooner, but now, he wouldn’t have a choice. Nobody would ever look at him the same once they heard it – how could they? They would move past it, though. Eventually, even the best gossip became old news. He might never be best friends with any of these people now, but it wasn’t the end of the world. He’d certainly been through worse. Kelly sought Casey out in the locker room after PE. The shaggy-haired, angel-faced recruit hung back while they walked inside, ensuring he’d be one of the last to hit the showers. Kelly lingered, too, rearranging everything in his locker while he waited. Once Griffin, Carter, and most of the other recruits left, Casey finally pulled off his shirt. When he did, Kelly couldn’t help but see a fading bruise on his ribs – presumably from one of Griffin’s assaults. Anger surged through Kelly’s veins, and he clenched his fists at his sides. If Griffin had been in the locker room at that moment, he would have left with a broken nose. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he already felt every bit as protective of Casey as he would with a little brother – never mind that he was pretty sure the blonde was at least two years his senior. Aside from the basketball-sized bruise, Casey’s body appeared unblemished – a calendar-worthy fireman if Kelly had ever seen one. His spirit, though, was another matter. In addition to barely speaking all day, he failed to smile at a single one of Darden’s jokes, and answered two instructors’ questions incorrectly. Grabbing his washcloth, soap, and towel, Kelly followed Casey toward the showers. “Hey Case, how ya doin’?” When Casey looked up at him, Kelly almost recoiled at the hollow expression in his eyes. “I’m okay. How are you?” “I’m good,” Kelly said, forcing a smile. “I think Andy and I are going to hit up that new club on Milwaukee tonight. You wanna come unwind and not talk about it for a couple hours?” He and Andy had no such plans, but Darden would play along. Heather might have other ideas for their Friday night, but Kelly could be more persuasive. To his relief, Casey nodded. He still didn’t look up, but it was a start. “Yeah. That sounds like fun.” Kelly nodded, trying and failing to keep the smile of relief from spreading across his face. “Great. Do you need a ride?” The blonde finally cracked a tiny smile in response. “No, I can take the train. What time should I meet you guys?” “Eight o’clock,” Kelly said. He knew that was early, but more time increased the likelihood of Casey backing out. And this way, maybe Darden could get home early enough to appease his girlfriend. “Cool,” Casey said flatly, reaching for the curtain of his shower stall. “See you there.” By the time he ate dinner and spent a couple of hours thinking about his day, Matt was tempted to back out of his evening plans. The promise of alcohol, loud music, and dancing lured him in, though – it sounded like a surefire way to unwind. And with any luck, Severide would follow through on his offer of not talking about their day. When he reached the club, he was surprised to find Darden and Severide already inside. Usually, he had to wait for them, but they must have been particularly eager to go out drinking tonight. He joined them at their table before he went to order at the bar, greeting them with a friendly smile. “Hey guys… Thanks for the invite.” “We’re glad you could make it,” Severide practically yelled over the music. When the dark-haired recruit moved his hand, Matt caught a glimpse of a black “X” on the back. “What, did you forget your ID?” he laughed, pointing it out. Darden snorted, while Severide uncomfortably shifted his weight. “Uh, no. I’m 20. I turn 21 in June.” “June 30th,” Darden smugly clarified. Matt raised his eyebrows, but in the interest of making friends, he kept his reaction to himself. “... Oh. Okay.” “Hey, you kept that under wraps for a month,” Darden told Severide with a hint of pride in his voice. “I thought someone would figure it out within a week.” For the first time since he met him, Matt saw Severide’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, but he tried to play it off. “It’s not a secret,” he said, managing not to sound too defensive. “I just didn’t see the need to rub anyone’s nose in it.” Matt could see why. Recruits who waited years to get into the Academy – himself included – wouldn’t be too thrilled to learn that the legacy got to skirt the rules. He didn’t want to offend Severide by commenting, though, risking his two most promising friendships since Jason Kannell. Instead, he changed the subject to the first topic he could think of. “I’m going to order a drink.” “Grab Severide a club soda while you’re up there,” Darden joked. The last thing Matt heard as he walked away was the not at all manly squeal of a future firefighter being poked in the ribs. Forty-five minutes of dancing and three shots later – it would have been four, but Severide cheerfully stole one from his hand – Matt happened to be looking at the entrance when a group of guys he recognized from their Academy class walked in. Several were friendly acquaintances, at least before today, but the sight of red hair and a smug smile was enough to turn Matt’s stomach. “Hey, I’m gonna go,” he told Darden immediately, nodding towards the door. Severide, dancing with a girl a few yards away, didn’t seem to have noticed the newcomers yet. “You should stay,” Darden said, shaking his head. “Don’t let these jackasses spoil your night.” Biting his lip, Matt nodded. “You’re right.” Darden caught Severide’s eye and waved him over, then pointed Griffin out. “Oh, hell no,” Severide said angrily, shaking his head. “Hey, we don’t need this tonight. Let’s look for another club.” Matt preferred his opinion over Darden’s. Nodding, he immediately started weaving his way through the mass of dancing college students, trusting that his friends would follow. He strategically avoided the other recruits, making it safely to the door. It was a cold night, but after the heat of the dance floor, his first few seconds outside were a relief. Hearing the door open again behind him, he turned to meet his friends – but that wasn’t who it was. Instead, Ted Griffin followed him outside, with the look Matt had come to recognize as trouble in his eyes. 
Shit. 
“Gotta get home for dinner with your mom, Casey?” Griffin joked. “Oh, wait, visiting hours at state prison are over, aren’t they?” “Fuck off,” Matt said in warning, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fist. He stepped back with one foot, assuming a defensive stance. The door opened again, and Severide and Darden finally came out. Griffin smirked. “The article I read said your dad was drunk when your mom shot him. Do you think he saw it coming?” Whether or not Griffin saw it coming, Matt’s left hook landed squarely on his jaw. Even more forceful than Matt expected, the punch knocked the bully off-balance, and he landed on his ass. Frozen, Matt looked at Severide and Darden with an anxious, wide-eyed stare. Griffin stayed on the ground, lifting a hand to his jaw but otherwise unmoving. Severide and Darden stepped around the sprawled-out recruit, each taking Matt by one arm and turning him around. “Gotta be careful on these icy sidewalks, Griffin,” Darden joked. “You wouldn’t want to fall.” “I’ll be reporting this, first thing on Monday. You just got yourself booted from the Academy, Casey.” “C’mon, tiger,” Severide urged, giving Matt’s wrist a gentle tug. “We’re gonna walk you home. And don’t worry, you’re not going to lose your place in the Academy over this. He’s full of shit and everybody knows it.” “Can we go to your place?” Matt impulsively asked. “Um… if you don’t have other plans, I mean…” “Of course,” Severide answered, steering him around the corner and out of Griffin’s sight. “Andy, why don’t you pick up a six-pack we can drink at home? Matt’s gonna crash with us tonight.” “You’re paying for it,” Darden said sternly. “You stole drinks we each paid for in there.” “If you don’t stop me, it’s a gift.” Listening to the two friends bicker, Matt couldn’t help but smile. As the adrenaline wore off, though, anxiety set in. His hands shook and his teeth chattered, and it wasn’t from the cold. He could lose everything he’d worked for over this – one stupid, impulsive punch. He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. “I’ll pay for the beer,” he blurted out, suddenly desperate to say something.  Severide snorted. “No way in Hell.” Severide took Matt directly back to his apartment, while Darden stopped at a corner store to pick up the beer. Matt wasn’t sure who paid for it in the end, but it definitely wasn’t him. Heather told Andy not to expect her home that night, so they had the place to themselves. While Severide made hot chocolate in the microwave, Matt sank onto the couch. Leaning back as far as he could, he folded his hands over his eyes. He probably should have just gone home to bed, but he didn’t feel like being alone. “It’s going to be fine,” Severide said, placing a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table. “Really, Matt.” Unfortunately, Kelly’s confidence didn’t bolster his own. “My dad wasn’t a CFD legend,” he said quietly, trying not to take too harsh a tone. “The rules don’t apply the same… apparently.” He waved at the X on Severide’s hand. Severide nodded shortly. “My father had less to do with that than you might think… but I hear you. I do know how the CFD works on the inside, and I grew up around the men who make these decisions. And I’m telling you, they’re good guys, and they’ve noticed that you’re one hell of a recruit. I’m not saying you won’t be running extra laps or scrubbing the locker room showers or something, but just tell them what Griffin’s been up to, and they’ll give you a second chance.” Matt slowly exhaled, rubbing his eyes, and then gave a slight nod and reached for his hot cocoa. There were marshmallows in it – or rather, 1 large, campfire-style marshmallow cut into quarters with a knife, and he looked over at his friend with a smile. “This is cute.” Scoffing slightly, Severide scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t mention it.” Matt was still smirking at that when Darden came through the door, carrying a six-pack under each arm. “So, while I was standing in the beer aisle, I realized a six-pack is only two beers apiece,” he announced. “This is definitely a four-beer night.” “But a 12-pack wouldn’t cut it?” Severide teased. “This way we could have two different options without any of them being pink or blue.” Laughing, Matt lifted his mug to his lips and slurped up a piece of marshmallow. His friends seemed committed not only to being his friends, but to upholding the promise of a night spent “not talking about it.” Despite that, or maybe because of it, Matt found himself suddenly wanting to unburden himself. It might be good to have them know. “Did you guys read the articles about my parents?” he asked, interrupting their debate on Seagram’s Escapes vs. Welch’s fruit juice. They quieted, and the room fell uncomfortably silent. After a long, painfully awkward pause, Severide cleared his throat. “It’s okay,” Matt said before he could speak. “No, it’s, um…” Severide cleared his throat. “I haven’t read anything – I don’t know about Andy –” “I haven’t,” Darden interjected. Severide continued, “But I was at the Academy after hours one day our first week and heard two of the instructors talking about it. Just in passing… They were actually complimenting you, saying how good it is to see guys who aged out of foster care succeed… apparently you’re one of two in our class, but I didn’t hear who the other one was.” Matt groaned, and Darden opened a beer. Severide kept talking, apparently as keen on unburdening himself as Matt had been a few moments before. Darden pressed the beer into Matt’s hand with an encouraging nod. “All I heard them say after that was that your dad was dead and your mom was in prison. I didn’t know the full story. To be honest, I just assumed it was drugs.”  “Okay, Kelly,” Darden said sharply, putting a beer in his hand too. “I think you’ve talked enough now. You don’t want Casey here to lay you out next.” Snickering, Matt nearly spit out his beer. “I probably should have told you guys sooner, but it’s something I’ve tried to leave in my past.” “You don’t have to tell us anything, man,” Darden said. “It is the past, and we’ve got those, too.” Gratitude surged through Matt’s alcohol-flooded veins, and he nodded. “I think I want to share. Just to know that you know the real story, if that’s okay.” “Yeah,” Severide said simply, while Darden nodded. Matt took a deep breath, realizing he’d never told anyone this story before. “My parents were terrible together. They fought constantly, and finally, when I was 16, they separated. It was a messy divorce – fighting over the house, money, even custody of me, which was dumb. I was old enough to go back and forth when I wanted, and I did. One night when I was 17, I came home early from a visit with my dad. He was drunk, and we got in a fight, so I left. My mom drove over there later that night and… and, she shot him with his own gun.” Severide put a comforting hand on his back, and to his surprise, he didn’t want to shake it off. Biting his lip, he bobbed his head in thanks. “I’m so sorry, Casey,” Severide said sincerely. “Yeah…” Darden said quietly, holding a beer bottle against his chin. “That’s awful, buddy. And I’m sorry that asshole Griffin threw it in your face. He deserved that punch, and a hell of a lot more.” “He’ll get his,” Severide confidently declared. “Just try not to lay him out again in the meantime, tiger. Let your buddies handle this.” During roll call on Monday, an instructor walked in with a note for Casey. Kelly made no effort to hide that he was reading over his shoulder – Casey had been summoned to meet with the captain who handled disciplinary matters at the end of the day. “It’s going to be fine,” Kelly whispered in his ear. Despite Casey’s smile and nod, he looked miserable for the rest of the day. Darden and Kelly made themselves a human wall, shielding him from so much as making eye contact with Griffin and his friends. Before going to the mess hall for lunch, Kelly told his friends he was going to make a call to confirm his date that night. After some teasing from Darden and a sad-looking nod from Casey, they continued down the hall, while Kelly doubled back and went upstairs. He quickly found the office he was looking for, and to his relief, the instructor was sitting with his door open and his lunch spread out on his desk. Kelly lightly tapped on the doorframe. “Hey, Captain Tiberg.” “Kelly,” the captain greeted him with a welcoming smile. “I guess I should call you Firefighter Candidate Severide, though. Come on in, have a seat.” Putting his hand on the doorknob, Kelly asked, “Mind if I close this?” “Are you here to see me in my official capacity, recruit?” Kelly pursed his lips, not sure how to answer that. Instead of trying to guess which answer Tiberg wanted, he said, “I’m not sure, sir.” “You can close it,” Tiberg allowed, putting the lid back on his salad. “What can I do for you?” Kelly sat down, suddenly overcome by nerves. If he screwed this up, Casey could lose everything he was working for. “You got a report from Candidate Griffin this morning,” he said carefully, encouraged by Tiberg’s nod. “I’m here because I’m concerned that what he reported may not be accurate, and I believe it would be a loss to the CFD and the city of Chicago if you don’t hear the side of the story that neither of the men involved will tell.” “Were you present when Casey punched Griffin?”  ‘Admit what you can’t deny’ ran through Kelly’s head as he nodded. The bruise on Griffin’s face was a hell of a lot more visible than the one on Casey’s ribs, and there was no denying how that happened. “Yes, Captain. And I was also there on at least five occasions when Griffin shoved, pushed, or tripped Casey during classes or drills, including one time when he nearly caused both Casey and Darden to fall off the aerial. At least three instructors are aware of a single event in their class, but I’m not sure if they’ve put together the pattern of dangerous behavior that puts all of our lives at risk. I was thinking that might be more worthy of your attention than a single punch thrown by a guy who just had it announced to the whole class that his mom is in prison for murdering his father, on a weekend when we were all off-duty and nobody there knew we were associated with the CFD. But it’s your call. We can talk about either one.” “How long can you hold your breath, Severide?” Tiberg asked, leaning back in his seat. Kelly forced a smile. “I’ve been practicing. I plan to start Squad certification as soon as I finish my candidate year.” “Of course you do,” the captain said, with no hint of irony. “Okay, recruit, talk me through this again… slowly.” At the end of their semi-weekly three-mile run, most of the recruits changed back into street clothes. Trying not to make eye contact with anyone, Matt put on the most formal “uniform” he had instead: a clean, wrinkle-free gray CFD Academy t-shirt, the plain black trousers he wore to their classroom lectures, and, after some consideration, his boots rather than his gym shoes. Darden slapped him on the back, giving him a supportive nod. “See you tomorrow, buddy.” Matt nodded, forcing a smile. “Hope so.” He felt eyes on his back all the way down the hall. Everyone knew about what happened – both the punch, and what brought it on. After an increasingly awkward day of whispers and stares, expulsion might come as a relief. He couldn’t imagine ever regaining his reputation, now that all his dirty laundry had been aired. Moving to a different city sounded better all the time. When he neared the captain’s office, the door opened with a bang. He stepped back, barely managing to clear out of the way before Ted Griffin barreled out. For once, the furious speeding bully didn’t go out of his way to bowl into him, but Matt wouldn’t have wanted to be in his path. Once the red-haired missile made its way downstairs, Matt nervously knocked on the captain’s doorframe. “Candidate Casey, come in.” The balding brown-haired captain stood behind his desk, his face already slightly red. That probably didn’t bode well for the rest of Matt’s day, but he couldn’t help hoping Griffin was in at least as much trouble as he was. Matt stood at attention in front of the desk, hoping his anxiety didn’t show. “Reporting as ordered, Captain.” “What the hell were you thinking, Candidate?” Tiberg snapped. “I wasn’t thinking, sir,” Matt said honestly. “Griffin confronted me outside the club, said some hurtful things about my late father and my mom, and I lost control. I’m really sorry, and I promise, nothing like this will ever happen again… but if I’m losing my place here because of my actions, I understand.” “I don’t mean the punch,” Tiberg clarified. “Don’t you dare quote me on this, but just about any one of your instructors probably would’ve handled that the same way.” Matt carefully did not smile, but the knot in his stomach loosened. “Yes, sir.” “Lift your shirt, Candidate.” Suddenly understanding, Matt slowly nodded his head. “Oh. Yes, sir.” He untucked his shirt and lifted it up, just enough to show what remained of his nearly-faded bruise. “How did this happen?” Matt pursed his lips. “Um, I tripped on the stairs in the smoke box last week, sir. Should I have reported that?” Tiberg raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps you might have considered reporting the part where a fellow recruit deliberately stretched a hose across the stairs and pulled it tight as you ran up. Until I started looking into it this morning, your instructor had no idea that was how you fell.” Matt had no idea what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. Tiberg sighed. “Close the door and take a seat, recruit. We need to talk about how we handle problems in the CFD.” When Matt walked back into the locker room, he was surprised to find the light still on. His talk with Captain Tiberg took nearly an hour, so he expected everyone else to be long gone. Severide sat on a bench near Matt’s locker, though, looking over his notes. He looked up with a smile when Matt walked in, but didn’t say a word. “What are you still doing here?” Severide raised his eyebrows. “Waiting for you. How did it go?” “He didn’t kick me out,” Matt grinned, his legs almost going weak with relief when he said it out loud. “I thought at least I would get a formal reprimand, but he just told me to learn how to control my temper and never let it happen again.” “Hey, that’s great!” Smiling in thanks, Matt opened his locker and started to reach for his jeans, but Severide raised a hand to stop him. “So, my date for tonight canceled, and –”“Why?” Matt asked curiously.  Severide shrugged, unconcerned. “She said her dog had food poisoning; I didn’t ask any follow-up questions. But as I was saying, we were gonna hit up the new rock climbing wall over on North Ogden and then go out for ice cream. I’m still in the mood to go rock climbing, especially since we didn’t get to do anything fun today. Thought you might be in the mood to work some stuff out, too.” “I think you’re the only person who wants to go to the gym after a three-mile run,” Matt smiled, shaking his head. “But… sure. Sounds like fun. How much does it cost?” “I already paid for two. Just buy me a couple drinks this weekend and we’ll call it even.” Bending to take off his pants and shoes, Matt smirked up at his friend. “Aww… ‘cause you’re too young to buy your own booze.” Severide rolled his eyes. “I may be too young now, but they’ll still be carding you when you’re 50.” A grin slowly spread across Matt’s face. “Hey – You think that’s why the department has that rule? If a club you have to be 21 to enter caught on fire, you wouldn’t be allowed to go inside to put it out.” Severide’s eyes made another circuit, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, Casey. I’m sure that’s why.” Matt quickly finished changing, then nudged his fellow recruit toward the exit. “You gonna buy me ice cream too?” Severide laughed at his own joke before he said it out loud. “I dunno, Casey… You gonna put out?” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that wasn’t even a little bit sexy, but an embarrassing heat still made its way up Matt’s neck. Wrinkling his nose, Matt playfully pushed him away, though not far enough to escape the scent of Old Spice. “Pig. Maybe that’s why she canceled.” “I’m sorry, are you saying you don’t believe Angela’s dog is shitting its tiny little brain out right now?” Holding the door for Severide with one hand, Matt shrugged the other shoulder. “At least she didn’t say she had to wash her hair.” “Maybe I shouldn’t have called her bluff about not being afraid of heights,” Severide theorized, leading the way to the stairwell. “She said she was really into the idea, but I had a feeling she was trying to impress me.” Shaking his head, Matt held back his laugh – he didn’t want to boost this guy’s ego any further. “Hey, if you do ever find someone who likes rock climbing and ice cream on a Monday night, she’s probably the one.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt’s stomach churned with anxiety and déjà vu while he turned the key in his front door around 1 AM. The last time he came home, twenty hours earlier, didn’t go so well. He hadn’t talked to Kelly since then. He bought a phone charger and powered his phone on for a few minutes before going to Stilettos, just long enough to send a quick text to Antonio and see that he had a voicemail and two texts from Kelly. He didn’t read them, not yet ready to face his own guilt. After leaving Stilettos, he walked to a nearby diner for a burger and coffee to help himself sober up. Although he only had one drink with Nesbitt, he wasn’t about to risk getting in the driver’s seat – both on principle, and because Voight was watching. He sat there for almost two hours before getting up the nerve to drive home. Parked outside his apartment building, Matt took a careful look around before retrieving what was left of Thursday night’s wine. He carried it as far as the dumpster behind the building, but, looking at the contents, he couldn’t bear to put that much alcohol to waste. He drank it in two gulps and then belched, trying not to puke. It had only been in his car for a little more than a day, but 75 degree white wine wasn’t exactly his idea of a refreshing beverage. Especially with the aftertaste of coffee still lingering in his mouth. Now he stood outside his door, completely unprepared to face his boyfriend. Knowing better than to hope Kelly would be in bed, he just prayed the fight to come would be quick. He had to be on shift in 7 hours, and he could barely remember the last time he slept.  “Matt,” Kelly said the moment the front door opened, standing up from the couch. “Hey.” Matt kicked off his shoes and hung his keys by the door, then turned to face his firing squad – no, boyfriend.  Kelly guarded his expression, but he couldn’t hide the tension in his shoulders from Matt. “I’m glad you’re home,” he said carefully. “I was worried when you didn’t text.” Matt nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.” He was sorry for so much more than that, but he couldn’t bring himself to have that conversation until he slept. Still, Kelly knew. “I know,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’m sorry, too.” “I’m gonna take a quick shower before bed,” Matt said, moving in that direction, hoping Kelly would let him go. “Can I have a kiss?” Kelly requested, keeping his hands in his back pockets. Matt forced another awkward nod. “Please.” He exhaled before Kelly’s lips met his, not caring about the scent of wine. Maybe his breath could tell the truth for him. His boyfriend’s lips were soft, gentle, and perfectly familiar, but Matt’s tongue found one spot he’d chewed into an ulcer since the night before. When the achingly blissful kiss ended, Matt took a small step back. “I’m not ready to talk yet.” Kelly nodded slowly. “Okay. We should probably get to bed anyway. Have you eaten?” Matt nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” “Nice outfit… Where did you get that?” Kelly asked, referring to Matt’s new gray sports coat, blue plaid button-down, and dark wash jeans. He couldn’t very well go into Stilettos in the clothes he’d been wearing for more than a day, so he went inside a consignment store and put an outfit together first. He wished he thought to leave the jacket in his truck. Kelly definitely knew he’d been to Stilettos now, and that would make tomorrow’s conversation all the harder. “I bought it today,” he said simply. “You look nice,” Kelly repeated. “Well, the clothes look nice. You look like shit.” Matt laughed weakly. “Thanks, babe.” “I’ll see you in bed.” Matt nodded again, unable to do much more. He was dog-tired, and his thoughts were like week-old winter sludge in his mind. “‘Kay. Love you.” The next morning (or rather, later the same morning), Matt woke with a pounding headache, nausea, and an urgent need to pee. While Kelly fumbled to find his phone and turn off the alarm, Matt rolled out of bed and left the room without a word, “walking with purpose” the way they were taught in the Fire Academy. He barely made it to the toilet in time to hurl, then emptied his bladder, gargled mouthwash, and stripped down for another shower. His headache didn’t lessen after throwing up, so he showered in the dark. The lukewarm water woke him up a little, but the next thought on his mind was “coffee.” He wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom, bizarrely uncomfortable with the thought of Kelly seeing him naked. When he got to the kitchen, Kelly stood next to the coffee pot eating a bagel, already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt for the drive to work. He silently opened the cupboard and handed Matt a mug, then stepped out of the way so he could fill it from the half-empty pot. “You’re not going to shower?” Matt asked, to break the silence more than anything. “It’s 7:25. I figured you could use the extra half an hour of sleep. I’ll shower at the firehouse, no big deal. You needed it more.” “Oh, crap.” Matt took one more gulp of hot coffee, then abandoned his mug on the counter. Holding his towel up with one hand, he hurried back to his bedroom to get dressed. He pulled on the first set of clean clothes he could find and returned to the living room while still buttoning and zipping his pants. “You sure you’re good to work today?” Kelly asked, his tone far more neutral than Matt could have hoped. “Yeah,” he nodded, flashing his boyfriend a smile without quite meeting his eye. “Mmkay,” Kelly acknowledged his choice with an uncharacteristic lack of comment. “You riding with me?” Shaking his head, Matt retrieved his keys and stepped into his boots. “Nah, I’ll drive myself. I’ll see you there.” Before he could open the front door, however, Kelly stepped in front of it. “Hold up.” Matt sighed, taking a step back. “We need to get to work, or we’re going to be late.” “You can make up these 30 seconds by running to your truck if you want,” Kelly said evenly. “I just have to say this one thing first.” “Okay,” Matt relented. It was quicker than arguing. Taking his hand, Kelly spoke quietly but firmly. “You are surrounded by people who love you, who will help you if you let us. Don’t wait too long to ask.” Avoiding the painful sincerity in Kelly’s eyes, Matt nodded. “Can we go now?” He longed to tell Kelly everything. He understood the detectives’ stance, but they didn’t know Kelly the way he did. The likelihood of his boyfriend deciding to confront Jack Nesbitt increased with each day this went on. Being able to give him some explanation for his actions – that he was trying to help people, not make money or (god forbid) hook up with Nesbitt – might at least hold him at bay for a few extra days. “Yeah,” Kelly said flatly, stepping away from the door. “We can go.” When Matt pulled up outside the firehouse 20 minutes later, Kelly was already out of his car and walking inside. Presumably, he was on his way to fight someone on 1st Shift for the shower he didn’t get at home. One more reason for Matt to feel like an asshole today. His head was still killing him. In his rush to get ready after sleeping in, he almost forgot – but the early morning glare while driving in brought it to the forefront of his attention. He hadn’t drunk enough the night before to have a hangover – just one glass of scotch and about a quarter of a large bottle of wine. But thinking back, he realized alcohol and coffee were the only things he’d had to drink in the past 24 hours. He made a mental note to grab a bottle of water on the way to roll call. First, he opened the glovebox, where he kept both his three remaining Percocet and the bottle of over-the-counter headache pills he bought at the pharmacy. After some deliberation, he popped half a Percocet and two of the other pills in his mouth and swallowed them dry. Glancing at the name “Kelly Severide” in bold text on the prescription bottle, a gentle wave of guilt lapped at his feet. It wasn’t like the tsunami that hit him during their fight on Friday morning, but this time, there was something he could do: throw out the remaining pills. He couldn’t do that at the firehouse, where anyone might see the bottle in the trash, but he vowed to himself that he would take care of it immediately after shift. After locking the medication back up in the glovebox, he got out of his truck and walked inside. He was one of the last people to arrive for his shift, but he still had five minutes to spare. When he walked through the app bay full of people already dressed for shift, Otis whistled and Dawson called out across the floor. “Late night, Lieutenant?” Matt would usually respond to that with a laugh or at least a wink, but today, he wasn’t in the mood. Ignoring them, he continued to the locker room to get ready for his shift. While he changed, Clarke walked in. Matt tensed at first, not sure how much Kelly had told him about their fight or… everything else. But the other lieutenant greeted him with his usual friendly nod, giving no sign he knew anything was wrong. “Hey, Matt.” “Hey,” Matt answered, flashing him a quick smile before pulling his Lieutenant’s polo over his head. “Good shift?” “It was fine,” Jeff reported, his unconvincing delivery punctuated by a yawn. “Caught a couple long ones overnight, but nothing too bad.” “Enjoy your nap,” Matt said, envious that his metamour got to go home and go to bed. He appreciated the extra 30 minutes Kelly gave him that morning, but he would kill a man for 30 more. “Oh, I will,” Jeff deadpanned. Matt closed his locker. “Just think, two weeks from now, you’ll have a puppy whining for a walk the whole time you’re trying to sleep off your shift.” “Nah, I figure she’ll keep you up all night and be ready to crash by the time I get home.” Matt forced a chuckle. “See ya later, buddy.” “Have a good shift.” Nodding in acknowledgement, Matt put his hands in his pockets and made his way to the briefing room. He was one of the last to arrive, but Kelly made him look better by walking in with wet hair and a shameless grin 30 seconds after Boden started. He settled in next to Matt against the back wall, bumping their fists together as though saying “good morning” for the first time. “Thank you for joining us, Lieutenants,” Boden said, pointedly including Matt in the shade. Their coworkers turned to stare, prompting Kelly to give a two-fingered wave while Matt shifted his weight and cringed. “Sorry, Chief. Won’t happen again.” Boden glowered at them for a moment longer, then continued with the briefing. “As I was saying, Lt. Severide… Squad 3 is a man down today because Rice is out sick. The department did not see fit to send us a floater.” Kelly nodded, already well aware of that, while a wave of whispers passed through the room. Unsurprisingly, Otis didn’t bother to whisper, instead turning to look Severide in the eye. “So Squad 3 is back to full strength today, huh?”  “Enough,” Boden thundered before either lieutenant could react. “That is enough.”  “Yes, sir,” Matt said quickly, shooting Otis an instructive glare. “Yes, sir,” Otis obediently echoed, facing the front of the room. It was nearly an hour after the briefing ended before Truck got their first call, giving Matt plenty of time to open a water bottle and drink another cup of coffee. He was due for a nap, but everyone would know something was up if he sequestered himself in his quarters before 9 AM. Instead, he took his coffee out to the app floor, unobtrusively supervising while Otis, Cruz, and Dawson did a thorough equipment check on 81. The klaxon sounded, and Matt eagerly listened for the announcement over the loudspeaker. “Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Gas leak, 6111 South Mayfield.”  He set his empty coffee mug on the Squad table, but Capp immediately picked it up. “This is the Squad table.”  “And we have a call,” Dawson shot back, taking a step forward. “Give me that,” Matt snapped, taking the mug from Capp and putting it on top of the cooler where they kept the bottled water instead. “This is not the time, guys. Move.” Matt glared at his crew while they geared up, disappointed with what he saw. Squad 3 was rolling out by the time Mouch and Herrmann reached the app bay, and Otis kept whispering to Cruz. “We need to work on our response time. This is not cutting it,” he snapped once they were all inside the Truck. “The Squad table is right next to their rig, and we were all the way in the common room,” Mouch objected. “We were here just as fast as always.” “Maybe you should spend less time on the couch and more time doing your job,” Matt snarked back. Nobody said anything after that. Shaking his head with frustration, Matt focused his attention on the tablet with all the information dispatch had about their call. It seemed like a fairly straightforward call, a suspected gas leak in a home while the resident was on vacation. When they arrived at the scene, Matt confirmed with the caller that the house was vacant, while Squad went to the rear of the house to check the gas levels. Matt ordered Mouch to take readings in front, holding the rest of his men back while they waited for the gas company to arrive. Shortly after Mouch reported back that the readings were too high for the building to be entered, Kelly’s voice came over the radio. 
“Hey Casey, there’s a woman inside. We’re going in.” 
Matt frowned and made eye contact with Mouch, who shook his head again. “Severide, do not enter,” Matt instructed. “We’re getting high readings here. This place will explode.” Without missing a beat, Kelly answered, “Negative. We’re going in.”  Mouch’s head-shaking became more frantic, and his eyes widened with concern. Tightly gripping his radio, Matt tried to convince Severide to stand down. “LEL readings are high! Wait for the gas company!” Silence fell over the radio, but Matt heard a Halligan against a door in the distance. Great.  Twenty seconds later, Kelly reported, “We’re in.”  “We need to get into the basement and shut off the gas before Squad blows this place to hell,” Matt announced, shaking his head with disgust. Of all the reckless, bull-headed moves Kelly could make today…  “I got this,” Otis said confidently, leading the way to the basement door. “Good,” Matt said. “Herrmann, you’re Otis’s spotter at the door.” While those two ran off to make entry, Matt checked in with Mouch again. The levels were still way too high and rising – it was only a matter of time before the house blew. When Chief Boden and Ambulance 61 arrived, Boden already looked ticked. Raising his hands in the air, he wordlessly asked Matt for an explanation. “Gas levels are high, Squad’s around back, and Severide’s inside looking for a woman.” “Are you kidding me?” Boden asked, the flatness of his tone conveying more anger than a shout. “I got Otis inside looking for the meter to shut off the gas,” Matt continued. Shaking his head, Boden walked around to the back of the house to check in with the rest of Squad 3. Seconds later, he yelled over the radio, “Severide, Otis, get out! Now!” He was in full panic mode now, the cool anger of moments prior forgotten. At the front door, Mouch buzzed with anxiety. “Not good, not good… This place is gonna go, Lieutenant.” Nodding in acknowledgement, Matt motioned for him to step back. Terror threatened to grip him – Severide was in that house – but he managed to keep his head. “Chief, we need to pull back!” “Found the gas meter. Gas is off!” Otis reported, and they all released their breath. “Take the windows!” Matt ordered. Dawson and Cruz were already in action, and Matt and Mouch took up their Halligans, too. They quickly started breaking windows, but not in time to stop the boom. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, though – it sounded like the explosion was localized to one room, and Matt couldn’t see any immediate damage to the front of the house.  “I have Severide, Welch, and one civilian,” Boden reported before he had time to think the worst.  “I have Otis,” Herrmann added seconds later. Matt put his hands on his thighs and leaned forward, trying not to hurl. I’m going to wring his neck.  While Brett and Chili tended to the resident, Boden called Truck and Squad together for a post-call lecture. Welch, Capp, and Tony gathered around Kelly on one side of the yard, while Matt and his crew stood with their arms crossed on the other. “Well? What was that?” Boden asked once he had their attention. Matt rubbed his neck, avoiding the chief’s gaze. “Truck and Squad, right? You just do whatever the hell you want now?” “You could have killed us by venting in there,” Kelly said, pointing roughly in Matt’s direction. “Otis shutting off the gas and us venting is the only reason this whole house didn’t explode!” Matt informed him. “We saved your ass after you did something reckless, again.”  “Otis is the elevator guy! What the hell was he doing in the house at all?”  “STOP!” Boden bellowed, stepping in between them. They stopped. Breathing heavily, Matt glared at Kelly while all of Squad 3 glowered back. “Pack up the gear,” Boden ordered. “Get back to quarters right now.” Matt quietly herded his men back toward the Truck, shooting one final glare Kelly’s way. Something – fury – flashed in his boyfriend’s eyes, and Matt looked away – too late. Openly defying Boden to an extent Matt wouldn’t dare, Kelly straightened his back and crossed the invisible Truck-Squad line. “What the hell were you thinking, Matt?” he asked, following him to the door of 81. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Shaking his head, Matt reached to open his door, but Kelly grabbed his wrist. Standing close enough to smell his boyfriend’s sweat, all the fear Matt felt while he was inside the house mutated into rage. “I was thinking you were about to get yourself killed if we didn’t get the gas shut off,” he said frankly, yanking his arm free from Kelly’s grasp. “You don’t just run into a house before we get a vent! Didn’t you learn anything from Andy? You could have DIED!”  “ENOUGH!” Boden screamed, standing much closer than either of them had noticed. Most of their men stood in a loose semi-circle behind him, their faces reflecting various degrees of shock and anger. “I’m not going to tell you two again. Load up and return to quarters, without another word.”  Almost compulsively defiant, Kelly risked two more words – but to his credit, they were “yes” and “sir.” He turned and walked away without so much as another glance at Matt, leaving him standing somewhat dazed next to the Truck. 
What in the hell just happened? 
“Okay…” Otis said into the awkward silence of the common room, a few minutes after they got back. “Can we finally acknowledge the obvious now? Those two…” Herrmann looked up from his newspaper to give his young colleague a withering stare, and both Chili and Brett turned in their seats to stare at him. At his side, Cruz sighed with exasperation, slowly shaking his head. “At your peril,” Mouch intoned. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” Herrmann confirmed. “Wait… What are we talking about?” Chili asked. “Are you saying the Lieutenants…?”  Just then, Squad 3 walked in from the app bay, returning from fueling up. Capp, Tony, and Welch glared into the common room and passed without a word, but Severide stopped in the doorway with a stony expression on his face. “Otis,” he said sharply. “You got a minute?” The blood drained from Otis’s face, and he gave a jerky nod. “Uh… sure. You mean now?” The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, tipping his head in the direction of the briefing room. “Yeah, Otis, I mean now… if you don’t mind.” “Sure… of course.” Otis stared wide-eyed at Cruz as he rose from his seat, mouthing something nobody caught. Once Severide left, a wave of titters spread through the room, and Otis shook his head. “There’s no way he heard that… right?” he asked quietly, looking nervously at Cruz. “I wouldn’t count on it,” Herrmann muttered. “It’s been nice knowing you, buddy,” Cruz teased. Once Otis finally found his way across the hall to the briefing room, Kelly closed the door. Observing the smaller man’s heavy breathing and wide-eyed expression, Kelly sighed, waving him towards a chair. “Have a seat,” he instructed, doing his best to soften his tone. Otis nodded cautiously, managing to make his way to the chair without showing Kelly his back. As soon as his butt hit the chair, he started talking. “Lieutenant, about the call, Lt. Casey ordered me to shut off the gas because we were worried about –”Kelly waved his hand, uninterested in that topic. “Whatever, Otis. I’m not here to talk about that.” The younger man shifted nervously in his chair. “Okay…?” Kelly sighed again, pulling out a chair of his own to straddle. “I wanted to talk about Scott Rice.” Otis gulped. “Oh.” “It’s none of your business, and I’m not happy about the way you handled this… but I thought you should know, he’s not out sick. I suspended him.” Otis looked like he could be knocked over with a feather. “Uh… Really?” “Yeah,” Kelly bluntly confirmed, infusing his voice with just enough anger to keep Otis on edge. “He’s out for at least a week, and if he wants to come back, he’ll be on a tight leash.” “Oh,” Otis said, some of his tension draining away. Offering Kelly a cautious smile, he added, “Thanks, Lieutenant.” Kelly shrugged, getting up from his chair. “Don’t thank me. If I was your lieutenant, you’d be suspended, too. Next time you have a problem with one of my men, I don’t want to hear you gossiping and bitching to the rest of the house about it. You come to me, like a goddamn adult, and I will take care of it. This could have been dealt with days ago if I’d realized it was more than just you running your mouth to your buddies. You ever hear of The Boy Who Cried Wolf?” Otis nodded, looking him in the eye. “I hear you. Sorry, Lieutenant.” Kelly smiled slightly – just enough to reassure Otis that he wasn’t going to strangle him in his sleep. Slapping the young Russian’s shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry I called you the elevator guy.” Otis chuckled, slowly rising from his seat. “Thanks.” “I still don’t know why the hell Casey sent you in there, but you came through. Thanks.” Otis shrugged, annoyance flickering across his face. “I’ve been training. I don’t want to be ‘the elevator guy’ forever.” Kelly raised his eyebrow. “You gonna try out for Squad one of these days?” Smirking, Otis shook his head. “Nah, Lieutenant… I like to work for a living.” On his way back to his quarters, Kelly passed Cruz in the hall. He initially walked past the young man, who was walking towards the locker room with his eyes glued to his phone, but then he stopped short. “Hey, Cruz,” he said as he turned, making sure his tone was friendlier than when he addressed his more irksome friend. “C’mere a minute.” Cruz’s eyes widened, but at least he didn’t go pale. He quickly nodded and followed him to his office, then awkwardly hurried past him to hold the door.  Maybe I should reflect on why my coworkers react this way when I say their names, Kelly thought, hearing his therapist’s voice in his head. Offering Cruz a friendly smile, Kelly ushered him into his quarters and motioned for him to close the door. “So… I heard you completed your Rescue Squad training last week. I don’t know if you’ve gotten your results in the mail yet…?” Cruz shook his head. Kelly’s smile widened. “Congratulations. You passed.” Cruz’s tension dissipated, replaced by a bashful smile. “Thanks, Lieutenant.” “You know, Chief Tiberg called me the day you signed up for the class,” Kelly informed him. He, of course, had immediately shared the news with Matt. “You could’ve talked to me, you know.” Cruz quickly sobered. “No disrespect intended, Lieutenant. I just wanted to do it on my own.” “Does anyone know?” Kelly asked. “Otis?” Cruz shook his head, glancing into the bunk room to double check that nobody was listening. “No. I… haven’t told him yet.” Kelly sighed, leaning back against his desk. “Uh – you want some unsolicited advice?” Raising his eyebrow, Cruz nodded. “Sure, Lieutenant.” “Just my two cents, but don’t let some petty Truck vs. Squad bullshit blow up the most important relationship in your life. This whole Truck vs. Squad thing…” Kelly hesitated, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s not worth it, man. You saw what just happened. Don’t follow in our footsteps. Otis is going to find out you’re coming over to the dark side, one way or another. Trust me, he’ll take it better if it’s coming from you.” “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Cruz said earnestly. Before leaving the office, he added, “We know you guys will work it out. You always do.” Sitting alone in his quarters, Kelly cringed at that. Cruz meant well, but that wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. He and Matt had these workplace spats often enough for there to be an “always,” for their crews to shrug off the drama and go on with their shift, like their lieutenants’ public meltdowns were a mundane part of their day. He could just picture Cruz’s daily agenda: 
8:00: Roll call
8:30: Equipment checks
9:00: Watch the lieutenants lose their damn minds
9:30: Coffee break 
Leaning against the edge of his desk, Kelly groaned and rubbed his forehead. “We need to get it together,” he muttered. Problem was, he had no clue in hell how to accomplish that. He was doing everything in his power to make things right, but he needed a little bit of buy-in from Matt. In terms of their romantic relationship, he could give him space to work things out… but at work, he needed his other half to trust him and play at the top of his game. Like on that call – Kelly knew what he was doing when he took Welch inside. It was a calculated risk, but one he was qualified to take. By their own agreed-upon rules, Kelly was in charge of that scene, and his men were trained to rescue people under those exact conditions. Otis, on the other hand, had no business going inside the house. It was a stroke of luck that he managed to shut the gas off without getting himself or anyone else killed. None of Truck should have entered – they were supposed to wait outside. But sending Otis, of all people… Matt had truly lost his mind. Kelly couldn’t shake the unease that settled over him when he saw the hollowness in his boyfriend’s eyes, both at their door that morning and after their argument at the gas leak call. He fell in love with Matt’s passion, the way he poured his heart into every interaction even if it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Watching that light burn out, Kelly felt more helpless than he ever had against a fire. There was only one thing left to do. He went to the locker room and retrieved two cigars, then went in search of Matt. He found him in his own quarters, sitting with his head in his hands. “Knock knock,” Kelly said, then tapped the open door with his knuckles. “Who’s there?” Matt said wryly, not looking up. Kelly held up the cigars. “Got a light?” Matt finally lowered his hands and turned to face the door, revealing his red, puffy eyes. He stared unnervingly at Kelly for a few seconds, then opened the center top drawer of his desk. Biting his lip, he looked down at the lighter, hesitating again before he picked it up. “I think Andy might be possessing me right now as revenge for what I said earlier, but… ‘Got a light, who?’” Kelly snorted with laughter, taken aback by the joke. “If Andy was going to haunt us, that’s exactly what he would do.” Matt grinned at first, but then his eyes welled with fresh tears. Sighing, he started to turn away, but Kelly pulled him into a tight, “friendly” hug. “Come here, buddy,” he said, loosely wrapping his arm around the back of Matt’s neck. “Just don’t smash the cigars.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“It’s Ride-Along Day!” Darden yelled as he sprinted across the street in front of the Fire Academy. Matt braced himself just in time to be tackled from behind, Andy’s thin, surprisingly strong arms wrapping around his waist. “Hell yeah!” he answered, hoisting his exuberant friend onto his back for a piggyback ride. Crossing the street at a more leisurely pace, Severide shook his head. “You two are embarrassing. I don’t know you right now.” “You’re the one who wound him up and fed him sugar for breakfast. Don’t put this on me.” Severide trailed behind Matt and Darden on the way inside the Academy, making it clear to everyone in the vicinity that he was not engaging with their horseplay. He was officially uptight this week, spending the entire weekend and every minute of spare time throughout the week reviewing every topic he thought he might be quizzed on during Ride-Along Day. When Matt reminded him that they were there to learn, Kelly scowled at his well-worn copy of Kirk’s Fire Investigation (definitely not a textbook they’d been assigned to read for any of their classes) and mumbled something about having a lot to prove. Knowing a lost cause when he saw it, Matt took the book from his hands and spent the next hour quizzing him. He found the information pretty fascinating himself, and it made Severide stop frowning.  (“Nerds” was Darden’s response before leaving to take his girlfriend out to dinner.) The moment they crossed over the threshold of the Academy, one of the instructors yelled like he’d been waiting all morning for a reason. “Casey! Darden! Severide! That is not how CFD firemen walk into a building!” “Sorry, Instructor Davis!” Matt answered, stopping until Andy got down. “There will be payback,” Severide muttered as he passed, making sure only the two of them could hear. “Tequila?” Matt cheerfully suggested, swinging an arm around his shoulders. “That, or you can be my dummies while I do drills this weekend.” “Tequila it is,” Darden decided. “A bottle,” Severide said dryly. “Each.” “Two shots if it isn’t mentioned on your daily eval. A bottle if it is,” Matt countered. “Each,” Kelly insisted. “Deal.” They quickly changed out and made their way to the drill hall, where the recruits were lining up. The air seemed to buzz from the energy in the room – half excitement, half apprehension. Severide, unusually, was in the “apprehension” half today, as much as he tried to play it cool. Matt, on the other hand, had been looking forward to this day for months. This was the first of three “Ride-Along Days” during their six months at the Academy – their first opportunity to spend a full 24 hours in an active firehouse, shadowing a crew on all its calls. They’d gone on what Andy described as “the best field trips ever” before, spending a few hours at a firehouse as a group. But this was the recruits’ first chance to get in on the action for themselves. At 7:30 sharp, their instructor walked in and began announcing their assignments. Everyone who completed the basic EMT course before starting the Academy would spend their first Ride-Along Day on an ambulance, while those who still had to take that class got to ride a ladder truck or engine. Although Matt and Andy were both bummed about that at first, Kelly pointed out that ambulances got more calls than any other crew, making a more exciting day. To Matt’s irritation, he and Griffin were assigned to spend the day at the same firehouse. The past five weeks had passed without major incident, both recruits well-aware the instructors’ eyes were on them. And once their classmates saw the bruise on Griffin’s face, Matt never heard another word about his parents. Griffin’s very presence, though, was enough to spoil Matt’s enthusiasm about the day. Noticing his twisted mouth and furrowed brow, Andy took him by the elbow before they went their separate ways. “Do you want to ask if we can swap?” “No, thanks,” Matt declined. It was a busy enough house that he probably wouldn’t see much of Griffin, and he’d survived 24 hours without sleeping before. (There was no way in hell he’d ever sleep with that weasel in the bunkroom.) The instructors sent them on their way, leaving it to each group of 2 or 3 recruits to find their way across the city to the firehouse they were assigned. That meant Matt and Griffin had to go the same way, but it didn’t mean they had to speak. They walked on opposite sides of the street until they reached the L-train station, then stood as far apart as they could while waiting for their train. Once they boarded, Matt lost sight of Griffin in the crowd, although they were unfortunate enough to find each other again after they reached their stop. They finally got to the firehouse around 8:15, just as the morning briefing ended. It was a small, older building, with a dark brick exterior and two bay doors that opened right on the street. They struggled for a few tense seconds to figure out who would open the door and walk through first, but finally, Matt took a step back and motioned Griffin through with an entirely sarcastic flourish. The middle-aged firemen who greeted them wore alarmingly predatorial smiles – or at least, Matt would have been alarmed if he was Griffin. The medics, on the other hand, seemed genuinely happy to see him. Best of all, they immediately separated him from Griffin. The medics themselves were an interesting pair. The PIC, Dawn, was about his mother’s age, but her long, blonde ponytail and the enthusiasm with which she squeezed his shoulders in greeting assured him that the similarities ended there. Her partner, a tall Black man not much older than Matt, shook his hand with a more professional smile. He introduced himself as David, pronounced ‘da-VEED,’ and spoke with an accent Matt couldn’t place. Something Central or South American, he thought, or maybe Mediterranean. (He really needed to travel more.) “Okay, kid, here’s the deal,” Dawn began immediately, steering him towards the app bay. “You aren’t going to touch another human being today, unless one of us directly orders you to do so. You will touch the jump bag and the stretcher, and if we need the stair chair, you’ll touch that too.” Matt smiled. “Got it. I make a great pack mule.” “You’re also going to be our supervisor for the day,” she continued. “On every call we take today – and it’s the start of trauma season, so we’ll be taking a few – you’re going to tell us exactly what you think is happening and what you think we should do. Don’t worry – if we think you’re wrong, we’ll tell you right away. You won’t have a chance to kill anyone today.” “Unless you drop them down the stairs,” David contributed. “Don’t do that,” Dawn recommended. “Noted,” Matt grinned, thankful Severide pushed him to double down on the studying that week. Despite Kelly’s obsession with being prepared for a pop quiz on arson investigation, they still spent the bulk of their week memorizing EMT protocols. It had been almost 5 years since Matt’s EMT course, so he needed the review. “We’re going to start —” The alarm notifying them of a call sounded, cutting Dawn off mid-sentence and making Matt jump. Based on the medics’ smirks, his reaction didn’t go unnoticed. 
“Ambulance 48, man in distress, South Emerald and West 49th Street.” 
“— with a man in distress,” Dawn finished. “Come on, kid, I’ll show you the back of the ambulance while David drives.” Matt eagerly climbed up into the ambulance, taking a seat where Dawn pointed on the bench. “So, ‘man in distress’ sounds pretty vague. What does that usually mean?” he asked curiously. “It means someone called 911 because they saw someone who looked like they needed help, but they didn’t stick around to find out what was wrong. Sometimes we show up and can’t find the person, sometimes we find a gunshot victim… but in this neighborhood, most of the time, they’re drunk.” “It’s not even 9 a.m.,” Matt pointed out, double checking his watch. “So probably not a drunk?” Dawn chuckled, shaking her head. “That’s cute.” She showed him where they kept the essentials, quizzing him on the use of each piece of equipment. He didn’t know exactly how to use a lot of it, but she deemed him competent to at least hand them what they asked for. He struggled not to beam at every word of praise, accustomed to instructors who wouldn’t be caught dead complimenting a recruit.  When they arrived at the intersection dispatch reported, they didn’t immediately see anyone in need of help. As promised, Matt got to carry the jump bag while they set out to take a look around. “Go on, recruit – gotta find someone in distress so we can fill out our report.” Somewhat awkwardly, Matt started walking down the sidewalk. There were a few pedestrians walking by, but none showed any interest in the medics or seemed likely to have been on that block ten minutes earlier when the 911 call was placed. He paused for a moment, hoping to copy Dawn and David – but both medics stood against the side of the ambulance with their arms crossed, Dawn pulling a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.  Great.  Noticing a convenience store on the intersection, Matt decided to try talking to the clerk. The moment he crossed over the threshold, the elderly man behind the counter waved him away. “He’s not in here, kid.” “Did you call 911, sir?” Matt asked hopefully, risking a slight smile. “Yeah. I told them to send the cops. You don’t look like a cop.” “Um, no,” Matt agreed. “I’m with the CFD. Can you tell me what happened?” “Some tweaker came in here, all strung out, and asked me for a free sandwich. He didn’t have a gun or nothin’, and when I said ‘no’ and told him I was gonna call the cops, he said ‘okay’ and walked away. It was the darnedest thing.” Matt tilted his head. That warranted a 911 call? “O-kay…” he said slowly. “Did you see which way he went?” “Out,” the clerk answered flatly. Matt nodded, furrowing his brow. “Okay. Well, um, thanks for all your help, sir.” As he turned to go, the clerk spoke again. “You gonna buy something?” “What?” “If you come into a place of business, you’re supposed to buy something. Cops always do.” Raising his eyebrow, Matt started to shake his head – but seeing the frown on the man’s face and the hand hovering near his phone, he reconsidered. Glancing at the refrigerated display of individually wrapped sandwiches, he nodded towards them. “Which one did the tweaker want?” “Ham salad on whole wheat.” Wrinkling his nose at the thought of eating a ham salad sandwich that he suspected had been sitting there in plastic wrap at least overnight, he took one of those to the counter. His total with tax was $1.79, and he tried not to scowl as he told the clerk to keep his 21 cents in change. “We usually have a $5 minimum,” the clerk informed him. “That’s nice,” Matt said blithely, taking the sandwich with a mental note never to visit this store again. Outside, Dawn raised an eyebrow in question without taking the cigarette from her mouth. “Our ‘man in distress’ is a hungry tweaker,” he explained, holding up the sandwich. “Leave the jump bag here,” David advised, reaching out to take it. “If you find him and you need help… yell loud.” “But… don’t touch him?” Matt double checked. “Right,” David agreed. “If he needs medical attention, that’s part of ‘if you need help.’ Otherwise, just try to get his name for our report.” Imagining that he was hungry, high, and probably a little bit paranoid, Matt tried to guess where he would go. None of the other storefronts looked promising – nowhere that sold food. Picking a direction, he walked about a block, feeling increasingly naive in his hope to find a hungry-looking man in an alley.  This is so stupid, he thought, biting his lip. He was completely certain the call itself was a waste of time, and not entirely sure the medics weren’t sending him on a wild goose chase for their own entertainment. But he wasn’t one of the best recruits in his class because he folded in the face of adversity. If there was a goose to be found, he was going to feed it ham on wheat. Instead of doubling back, he decided to walk a block over instead. He kept his eyes peeled, but the only person he saw in an alley was pushing a garbage can towards a dumpster. Shrugging, he tried going the other way, heading west instead of east of the convenience store. It took a few minutes, but finally, Matt found his goose: a skinny blonde man in his late 20s or early 30s, sitting on the ground beside a dumpster with a ratty black backpack at his feet. “Hi,” Matt said, stopping a respectful six or seven feet away. “Do you need help?” Without looking up, the man shook his head. “Okay,” Matt said neutrally. “Well, do you like ham on wheat?” The man froze, but his left hand still tapped against his leg. “I – I didn’t steal it.” “I know,” Matt said. “That store clerk was an asshole.” The man didn’t answer. Twisting his lips, Matt considered his next move. “My name’s Casey,” he said after a moment. “What’s yours?” After a long pause, during which Matt seriously considered handing over the sandwich and calling it a day, the man answered. “Zach.” “Hi, Zach,” Matt said. “Do you want this sandwich? I’m not a big fan of ham salad, really.” Matt didn’t know much about meth, but as the man reached out to take the sandwich from his hand, he doubted the store clerk’s diagnosis. “Are you sick?” Matt asked. Zach shrugged one shoulder, stuffing the sandwich into the pocket of his hoodie. “Not the way you’re thinking. I have AIDS.” “Oh,” Matt said lamely, taking a small step back. He knew you couldn’t catch HIV just from talking to someone, but he couldn’t help his visceral reaction to the word. “Where do you live?” “Nowhere,” he said. “I got evicted from my apartment three days ago.” “Oh,” Matt said again, mentally kicking himself. “Um, do you know about the local men’s shelters? I could give you directions?” Zach shook his head. “I don’t need help, kid. But thanks for the sandwich.” Matt nodded, biting his lip. He almost left, but something compelled him to keep talking. “It’s a bit of a walk from here, but there’s a food pantry on Claremont that serves a lot of single guys. They always have good stuff you don’t need a kitchen to use – bread, jars of peanut butter, jerky, stuff like that. Sometimes they even have apples and oranges.” Zach finally made eye contact, even cracking a slight smile. “That’s good to know. I tried the pantry over at St. Ursula’s, but all they had were cans and boxes of food you have to heat up on a stove.” “I aged out of one of the group homes run by that parish,” Matt disclosed. “They like to help people, but sometimes they can be a little out of touch with what kind of help people need. If you go to the place on Claremont, you should ask them about some of the churches that host monthly dinners. They’re a lot better than the soup kitchens – the meals are homemade by volunteers.” Matt never actually visited a soup kitchen, both too picky and too proud. But he did go to some of those church dinners, back when he and Jason were struggling to make their way. He got his Cajun gumbo recipe from one of the volunteers there. “Thanks… Casey, you said?” “You’re welcome,” Matt said with a nod of confirmation. “Um… you’re sure you don’t need any medical attention?” He felt guilty, just walking away without doing anything to help. Zach nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” “Okay,” Matt said. “Well, if that changes, that convenience store is a good place to go… He definitely won’t hesitate to call us again.” He went back to the ambulance, where Dawn was just wrapping up her smoke break. After enduring some friendly teasing about his failure to get a last name from Zach, he settled into the passenger’s seat with a clipboard to fill out their report. Although he’d never seen one before, he found it pretty self-explanatory, and he only had to fill out a few lines since there was no one in need of treatment. “Oh, was I supposed to have the guy sign this?” he asked with a cringe when he reached the end. David shook his head. “That’s only if we provide medical treatment or transport someone. We don’t make people sign for tuna salad.” “It was ham,” Matt clarified. “Well in that case, yes, you fucked up. What the hell were you thinking, recruit?” Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “Do I sign the medic line?” “Are you a medic?” Matt set the clipboard aside for the medics to sign when they got back to quarters. “Nope.” “Are you ever going to be?” David asked curiously. Sensing a trick question, Matt carefully considered his response. “Not that this hasn’t been a great time so far, but I joined the Academy to become a firefighter. I want to be prepared to give the people I encounter the best possible care, but the medic role isn’t what I’m picturing for myself. I think I can learn a lot from you, though.” David raised an eyebrow. “Most firefighter candidates just want to check this day off the list of graduation requirements.” “I think it’s required for good reason,” Matt said tactfully. “Being a paramedic might not be my goal, but it’s an important job.” Over the next 12 hours, he got his first inside view of what that job was really like. He’d heard that ambulances got more calls than anyone else, and that definitely proved to be true. They spent most of the day on back-to-back calls, only returning to the firehouse twice. Even though he couldn’t perform any medical interventions, the medics kept him busy handing them things from the jump bag, talking to patients, and writing reports. Around 10 p.m., they were leaving a kid with a broken arm at the emergency room when a call came over the radio.  “Ambulance 48, are you available to divert to a major incident downtown?”  Matt listened with rapt interest to Dawn’s response, practically holding his breath. He didn’t want to look too eager, but he was here to learn. “Yes, dispatch, we’re just rolling out from Lakeshore.” The dispatcher gave them an address, then told them they were going to a confirmed high rise fire. “Try not to drool on your jacket,” Dawn teased him. Matt smiled in acknowledgement of the joke, but he could feel his heart racing in his chest. “An uncontained high rise fire is one of the most dangerous things that can happen in a city like Chicago. I wouldn’t hope for this. But if it had to happen, I’m not sorry to be here. What do you think we’ll need to do when we get there?” “It sounds like they’re just starting to bring people downstairs, so until someone needs immediate transport to the hospital, we’ll do triage and treat people on the scene. What do you think we’ll see the most of in triage?” “Smoke inhalation?” Matt guessed. “But probably also some injuries from the evacuation – exhaustion, twisted ankles, that kind of thing. And maybe some panic attacks?” “We’ll definitely have some panicking people, whether that takes the form of panic attacks, outbursts of anger, or irrational behavior. That’s a good insight. Now talk to me about the environment – time of day, weather, all that good stuff.” “Well, it’s nighttime, so just about everyone will be home, especially any kids. A lot of people are probably already in bed. So that might make them more disoriented when they come outside. And… I’m sure we’ll have people who aren’t fully clothed. It’s not dangerously cold tonight, but if you’re in a nightgown or slippers, you won’t be very comfortable standing in the street. When my apartment building burned down, we had to stand outside for hours, and that was a lot smaller than this.” “It’ll keep getting colder, too,” she reminded him. “It’s 45 degrees now, but it could be almost down to freezing before sunrise.” “Where will all these people go?” he asked, trying to guess how many people might live in a single downtown high rise. Hundreds, he figured. “A lot of them will make their own way to the hospital or otherwise out of the area – family and friends’ homes, hotels, bars. The city is setting up an emergency shelter for those who don’t have anywhere to go. Anyone who isn’t injured can walk there or be taken by bus, and ambulances and extra fire apparatus will transport the injured to the hospital.” An emergency shelter – that was nice. Nobody set up an emergency shelter when it was a building full of blue collar workers and former foster youth in Pilsen who had to evacuate their home in the middle of the night. “In this kind of situation, what determines whether you transport someone to the hospital right away?” “We send out anyone who needs more resources than we have at the scene. Anyone we have to intubate, of course, or in respiratory distress. Any serious burns or major bleeding, including internal bleeding. Anyone unconscious. And when we have ambulances, anyone who makes the situation more dangerous for others – patients who are being combative or severely disoriented. You’d be surprised how many people will decide they want to go back inside before the fire is out, especially if it isn’t near their floor.” After Matt nodded, she turned the next question on him. “What does START stand for, recruit?” “Simple Triage And Rapid Treatment,” he answered easily. “If you were the first one doing triage on scene, how would you start?” “Um… I would identify a staging area for the greens and ask everyone to walk to that area. Anyone who’s able to walk there without assistance or complaining of pain is green.” “And what does green mean?” “It means they only have minor injuries. Their care can be delayed for up to three hours.” “So you send them off and ignore them for three hours?” “No… We should re-triage as often as resources allow to catch any changes in condition. Some things might take time to show up without a close assessment.” She quizzed him thoroughly on triage, even making him answer how he would handle specific situations. By the time the ambulance came to a stop on a street full of sirens and activity, he felt confident he could nail an oral exam – but his stomach was still in knots at the thought of the real-life scenario they were about to face. “Your hands are shaking, recruit,” she pointed out as they stepped down from the ambulance. He hadn’t noticed. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. He focused on breathing evenly while he looked around, taking in all the activity in the street. The ambulance parked a full block from the address they’d been given – the fire apparatus, at least 7 he could see, were up closer. In between the fire trucks and the ambulances, dozens of people already stood, sat, and laid on tarps and blankets in the street. Despite the hour, the street was fully illuminated by streetlights and flashing red and blues. He saw a group of gray-clothed recruits already working in triage, and Dawn firmly pushed him forward. “We’ll check in with the triage incident commander. Remember, recruits don’t perform medical interventions, under any circumstances. You’re here to assist the medics. You assess, you reassure, you hand out water bottles. You do not give medication, you don’t bandage a wound, and for the love of god, you do not attempt CPR. Got it?” Matt nodded. “Yes, got it.” While Dawn and David went to check in, Matt drifted toward the other recruits. Catching a glimpse of Severide’s broad shoulders and thick black hair moving along a row of people wearing yellow tags, he made his way in that direction. “Hey,” he greeted his friend. “Where did you get the water bottles?” “I think this is the last of what we have for now, but someone will bring more,” Kelly said, twisting open the last bottle and handing it to a young woman with a visibly broken wrist. “Did you just get here for the first time?” Matt nodded. “Yeah, we just got done with another call. How long have you been here?” “Almost half an hour. The medics I was riding with already left to take the first smoke inhalation victim to the hospital, but they put me on waterboy duty. It’s better than what Griffin’s doing, though.” “Where is he?” Matt cringed, looking around the crowded street for greasy red hair and a permanent scowl. “He’s standing at one of the back entrances of the building, making sure no civilians try to sneak back inside.” “He’s a little bit scrawny for a bouncer, but I guess his personality will keep them at a distance,” Matt mused. “C’mon, we get to assess all the yellows every 15 minutes and tell the grown-up medics if we think anyone should move to red,” Severide said, tugging on his hand. “We can start over here.” “The grown-up medics?” Matt echoed. “Does that mean the ones who are old enough to buy alcohol in a bar?” “Shut up.” Since the main differences between a “red” and a “yellow” in a mass casualty situation were the patient’s breathing and mental status, they could assess that without breaking the ride-along rules. If the person could follow basic instructions like “close your eyes” or “raise your hand” and their respirations were normal, they weren’t in need of immediate attention yet. Checking their radial pulses did require touching, but Kelly assured Matt that exceptions had been made. “Just don’t get any ideas about setting any broken bones.” “Yeah, ‘cause that’s something I would spontaneously decide to try tonight,” Matt teased back. Twenty minutes later, Matt, Kelly, and another recruit had been promoted to triaging people as they evacuated, deciding who needed to see a “grown-up medic” right away and who could wait. Matt quickly learned that as a general rule, if someone came out with the assistance of one firefighter, they were yellow, and if it was two, they were red. Their new station gave them a better view of the action, and when no one was yelling, they could even hear the radio traffic from incident command. Kelly somewhat condescendingly explained everything they overheard, as if Matt hadn’t been sitting right next to him in their Academy classes for the past three months. That was part of Severide’s charm, though – Matt learned early on that his unnecessary explanations were more about enthusiasm than snobbery. Once you realized he was explaining how fire traveled through an elevator shaft because he thought it was just that cool, it was hard to be annoyed. A group of nearly a dozen people came outside at once, escorted by a firefighter carrying a small child. The firefighter hurried off towards the medics, and suddenly, Matt and Kelly were alone with ten stressed out civilians. “If you’re able to walk without assistance, head towards the secondary triage area over there,” Severide instructed, pointing to a tent down the street. Eight of the civilians moved in that direction, but two teenagers, a boy and a girl holding onto each other, stayed put. Their girl had her arm wrapped around the boy, who was holding a hand to his throat. “My brother has asthma,” she said, her eyes wide with anxiety. “He’s been having trouble breathing the whole time we were walking downstairs, but our floor was starting to get smoke.” “Was there smoke in the stairwell?” Matt asked, helping the boy sit down in a safe spot on the edge of the sidewalk. “At first, yeah, but not once we got below the 10th floor.” “What floor did he walk down from?” Severide asked, while Matt took the boy’s pulse. “Fourteen.” “He’s wheezing,” Matt observed. “Pulse is elevated, respiration is fast and shallow. Do you have your inhaler with you?” The boy shook his head. “You’re going to be okay,” Matt assured him. “Just sit up straight, look at your sister here, and take long, deep breaths. You know the drill. Kelly will stay with you while I go get a medic and albuterol.” He made it to the medics as fast as he could without breaking into a run, trying to quickly identify who looked the least busy. “We’ve got a teenage boy with asthma having an acute asthma attack. He doesn’t have his inhaler.” “Jump bag’s over there,” a medic said, nodding towards a bag on the ground. “I’m a trainee. We need a medic.” “It’s an asthma attack, kid,” she answered, already moving on to the next patient. Matt bit his lip, wondering if this would bite him in the ass – but he didn’t see any other options. He took the jump bag and made his way back to Severide and the kids, where his friend was now kneeling on the pavement. “The medics aren’t available just yet. They told me to take care of it,” Matt reported, placing the bag on the sidewalk. Opening it, he quickly found the albuterol, but paused and made eye contact with Kelly before administering it. “Am I doing this?” Kelly nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got this, Case.” “Okay,” Matt said, nodding to himself. “What are your names?” “Sofia and Wendel,” the girl answered. “Okay, Wendel, this is albuterol. You’re not allergic to that, are you?” The boy shook his head, and Matt gave him the albuterol – mentally praying it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. Kelly offered an encouraging smile, seemingly reading his mind. “Good job, buddy,” Kelly said, and Matt wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or the patient. “Let’s get you to some oxygen now, how’s that sound?” “Good,” Sofia answered. “Can I carry you?” Kelly asked the boy, who nodded in response. The wheezing gradually started to quiet, but his face was still alarmingly red. They escorted the kids over to the “red” zone, where they gave Sofia a green tag and Wendel a red. Talking with Sofia, Matt learned that their parents were still out at dinner when the fire alarm went off. When Kelly questioned why it took so long to leave, they admitted that they assumed the alarm was a prank until the firemen started knocking on doors on their floor.Hesitant to leave two unaccompanied minors in the middle of all the chaos alone, Matt stayed with them until an ambulance was available to take them to the ER. When it was finally time for them to go, Sofia surprised him with a tight hug around his waist. “You saved my brother’s life,” she said. “Thank you.” Shrugging off his discomfort, Matt offered her a reassuring smile. “Go on, now. Your parents will find you at the hospital. Everything’s going to be okay.” Their 24 hour ride-along lasted nearly 30 in total – what Severide called “the full experience.” Matt had never been so exhausted in his life, and yet, he practically bounced with energy. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he tried to go straight to bed – he might crash for hours, or he might toss and turn until he worked himself into an anxiety attack. The recruits were left to their own devices when the incident started wrapping up. Instead of returning to the firehouses where they started, they were sent home directly from the scene. Thankfully, Matt didn’t leave anything at the firehouse, wary of being sabotaged by Griffin. “You wanna do something?” Severide asked, apparently sharing his concerns about going straight to bed. Matt nodded. “Food. Shower. Reassess from there.” “I’m calling a cab,” Kelly informed him, pulling his flip phone from his pocket. “Everyone is going to take a cab,” Matt pointed out. “It’ll take hours.” Kelly sighed. “I really don’t want to take a train.” “Darden has a car, right?” Matt asked, raising an eyebrow. As far as he knew, Andy got to go home at 8 AM – he should be pretty well-rested by now. “I’m dialing right now,” Kelly announced, doing just that. They had to walk four blocks to meet him, but that meant they didn’t have to wait long for him to arrive. He pulled up in his little black Nissan soon after they reached the agreed-upon intersection, wearing plaid pajama bottoms, a baggy t-shirt, and shaggy, uncombed hair. “Thank you,” Matt said gratefully, sliding into the backseat. “We dropping you off at your place?” Andy asked. Closing the front door, Kelly shook his head. “Nah, he’s coming to ours.” Andy nodded, flipping the turn signal on before he pulled onto the street. “We hitting a drive-thru?” “Please,” Matt requested, unable to hide the desperation in his voice. Traffic was horrendous, but eventually, they made it to a drive-thru taco place. While they waited in the 7-car line, Kelly bragged to Darden about their day. “So, how many mass casualty events did you get to respond to today?” Squinting at the menu three cars ahead of them, Matt barely heard Andy’s sarcastic response. The two childhood friends bickered for ten minutes, until they were interrupted by a tired fast food employee wanting to take their taco order. Severide ordered one of everything on the menu and handed Andy two $20 bills, then returned to his account of the high rise call. “Has Severide always been such a cocky prick?” Matt joked, cutting short Kelly’s description of how ‘they’ saved a boy’s life. Meeting Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Andy grinned. “Only since kindergarten.” “Fuck you both,” Kelly said, sounding like he might actually be a little bit offended. “I just bought you tacos.” “That’s tempting, but I’m spoken for,” Darden smirked. Groaning, Matt rubbed his forehead. “Out of all the recruits at the Academy, I had to fall in with the two of you.” Unbuckling his seatbelt, Kelly turned around in his seat so he could flash Matt a cheeky grin. “Aren’t you glad?” Matt rolled his eyes. He was, but no way in Hell could he give that away. “I’m glad you’re buying breakfast.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Despite Kelly’s successes with Otis and Cruz, talking to Matt proved much harder. They spent half an hour outside with their cigars, but Matt barely spoke a word. Not wanting to push him too hard, Kelly kept the endless list of questions in his head to himself. Instead, he filled Matt in on the past couple of days. “So, I’m still not sure what’s going to happen with Rice,” he opened, looking out at the street instead of at Matt. “Our talk when I suspended him actually went pretty well, though. I’m going to lunch with him and Logan tomorrow, so I guess I’ll take his temperature then.” Matt nodded, obviously not really listening. “I – I appreciate your advice about how to talk to him,” Kelly continued, finding himself bizarrely compelled to fill the silence. “He really opened up about what’s been bothering him, took responsibility for the ways he’s screwed up.” Matt’s hand twitched, and Kelly cringed. He wasn’t trying to make a point, but he could see why Matt might think so. In his own experience, once you felt a certain degree of guilt about something, everything started sounding like an accusation. After another minute of tense silence, though, he shrugged to himself. If it was inevitable, maybe he might as well lean into it. “I think Scott’s biggest issue is that he got too deep in his own head… Convinced himself he was isolated, even though he was surrounded by people who would have been there to help him if he asked.” Matt took a particularly disinterested-looking draw from his cigar. Kelly didn’t buy it for a second. “Once he opened up, things started getting better for him right away. Yeah, he’s suspended for a couple shifts, but he isn’t alone with his problem anymore. Boden and I are going to help him find a solution.” Without even looking directly at Matt, Kelly caught his exaggerated eye roll. Deciding that was exactly as far as he could safely push, he smoothly changed the subject. “Speaking of Boden, Dawson, Brett, and Shay are trying to convince him he should adopt one of the puppies,” he shared. “For Terrance.” “Every little boy needs a puppy,” Matt said, finally acknowledging Kelly’s existence. “Right?” Kelly smiled, shifting almost imperceptibly closer to his boyfriend. “Especially me.” The silence returned, but it didn’t feel quite so suffocating this time. “Have you talked any more about puppy names?” Matt asked a while later. Kelly blew a ring of smoke in his direction before he answered. “Not really. I figure Clarke will overthink it, and eventually I’ll just start calling her something and it’ll stick.” “I’m not yelling for ‘Princess Muffinbuns’ at the dog park,” Matt warned him. “‘Princess Muffinbuns’?” Kelly echoed, raising his eyebrow. “It sounds like something you’d call a dog.” Kelly furrowed his brow, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Does not.” “You just added it to the list in your head, didn’t you?” “Absolutely not.” Matt appreciated Kelly’s clumsy attempts at talking more than he could express. Even though he didn’t need the help being offered, he recognized the place of love from which it came. As hard as he tried, however, he couldn’t think of a way to convince Kelly he was okay without telling him the truth about Voight and Nesbitt. 
Damn Hank Voight. 
With any luck, though, all of that would be over in a few days. Antonio promised it wouldn’t be a long-term operation – two weeks, at the very most. Once his part was over, he could tell Kelly everything. Until then, he just had to lay low and try not to let Kelly worry too much. When they were nearly finished with their cigars, Matt motioned for Kelly to take a few steps further away from the bay doors so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he said decisively. “I’ve got this, Kelly. Trust me.” Kelly shrugged one shoulder. “You know I trust you to do what you think is right. I just hope you trust me to have your back if it doesn’t go the way you hope.” Matt nodded slowly. Kelly’s words were almost insulting, but he appreciated his intent. “I do. But it’s just a contracting gig. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Really.” Kelly’s expression went completely, ominously blank for a moment, but then he snorted with laughter. Shaking his head, he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Okay, Matt. Whatever.” While Matt tried to figure out how (or if) he should respond to that, Cruz came outside to find them. “Hey, um, Chief’s looking for you two,” he said, awkwardly averting his eyes. Before Matt could even say “thanks, Cruz,” the younger man was gone, leaving the lieutenants smiling ruefully at each other. “Sooo,” Kelly said as they extinguished their cigars. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?” Shrugging, Matt flashed him a quick grin. “No more than we deserve. That wasn’t exactly our finest moment.” “Do you think we can pull off a show of solidarity today, or are we going with a live reenactment in his office?” Snorting with laughter, Matt walked through the door his boyfriend held open. “Trouble at home, we’re very sorry for bringing it to work… and if he pushes, I’m willing to say that after thinking about it, I agree that you had the authority and expertise to make the call to enter the house. I still think you were wrong, but I won’t say so.” Kelly rolled his eyes, but Matt saw a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I had a talk with Otis and apologized for calling him the elevator guy. He told me he’s been training to do things like you had him do today. It wasn’t my place to question your decision to send him in… even if I do think you’re batshit crazy.” Matt shook his head. “You really are a cocky prick, Severide.” Kelly smirked at the familiar phrase. “Since kindergarten,” he said proudly. They reached the bullpen, and it was Matt’s turn to hold the door. “I’m sure you were an absolute delight to deal with as a toddler.” “Oh yeah, I was a charmer. I don’t think I heard the word ‘no’ until I started school.” “You know, that explains a lot.” The smile dropped from Matt’s face when he saw Chief Boden standing in front of his desk. With his arms crossed over his chest and two ominous lines between his brows, the chief’s expression made it clear he was considerably more pissed off than Matt had realized. At his side, Kelly stiffened, his good humor vanishing just as quickly as Matt’s. “Crap,” Kelly muttered, stopping in his tracks. Nudging his boyfriend forward, Matt followed him into the office and closed the door. He avoided making eye contact with the chief until the last possible second, but once they stood in front of him, there was nowhere else to look. “You asked to see us, Chief?” Matt braved asking after a few seconds, unable to bear the icy silence. Boden glared at them for a moment longer, then shook his head and spoke. “I’ve spent most of the day trying to figure out what to say to you two, and still, all I’ve got is ‘What the hell?’”  Matt blinked slowly, trying to pinpoint what part of their morning had the chief so worked up. This was nowhere near the first time he and Kelly had argued about how to handle a call, and it usually didn’t warrant any more than the yelling he’d already done at the scene.  “We’re sorry, Chief,” Kelly said, stepping into Matt’s usual role after an uncomfortable pause.  “I shouldn’t have confronted Casey about Otis in front of our men. He’s the lieutenant of Truck 81, and it’s his call which of his guys to assign to a task. I spoke to Otis after the call, and I think he and I are good now. I apologized for what I said this morning, and told him I suspended Rice. I figure word will get around, and the Truck vs. Squad thing will settle down.” Matt nodded supportively. “I’ll talk to Otis and the rest of Truck, too. We’ll make sure there are no more turf wars, starting with us. I shouldn’t have criticized Lt. Severide’s choice to go into the house in such a public setting. It was his call to make.” Boden lowered his brows and tightened his jaw. Clearly, they’d given the wrong answer. “I’m glad you recognize at least some of the things you should have done differently today, but I’m still waiting to hear why this happened. Speak freely, Lieutenants. What’s going on?” Cringing in anticipation of being scolded, Matt risked a glance at Kelly. The Squad Lieutenant gave a slight shrug, showing the palms of his hands, then jerked his head as if to prompt Matt to answer. Furrowing his brow, Matt mirrored Kelly’s shrug. Why is it always my job to smooth things over when he pisses someone off?  Kelly huffed with frustration, but he folded. Taking a contrite tone that Matt recognized as almost sincere, he said, “We – We don’t really have a good answer for that, sir. We have some unresolved tension at home, and I guess the – the stress of the call was the last straw.” Severide always stuttered when he was frustrated or upset. Listening to him now, Matt idly wondered if he was aware of that tell. “What’s it about?” Boden asked. “Uh, what’s what about?” Kelly asked, sounding much dumber than he was. Boden narrowed his eyes, not buying it for a minute. “The ‘unresolved tension’ between you two. What’s it about?” Matt uneasily shifted his weight. He couldn’t think of a single safe answer to that, under the circumstances. Although Voight told Boden about the Nesbitt investigation, he still couldn’t mention it in front of Kelly. While he racked his brain for something to say, however, Kelly saved the day. “Uh, you – you know what a hothead I can be, Chief,” he said, scratching his neck. “I – I got it in my head that Matt was keeping a secret from me, and – uh, well, I confronted him, and it went about as well as you’d expect. We – We haven’t had a chance to talk it out yet, but we will.” Matt nodded. That story worked for him, especially if Boden assumed the only secret he was keeping was his collaboration with Voight. “You won’t hear about it again, Chief. And we’re sorry.” Boden stood silently with his arms across his chest, as if waiting for them to say more. “Um, yeah, we’re really sorry,” Kelly said, pulling the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands. “We promise, it’ll never happen again.” If he sounded a bit childish, Matt supposed it was no more so than they’d acted on the call. Sighing, Boden leaned back against his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two are going to be the death of me.” “Chief…” Matt said softly, but he was at a loss to continue. Fortunately, Boden raised a hand to stop him anyway. “I have a lot of concerns right now, but I think the biggest is that you two don’t seem to realize how badly you screwed up today. It’s not just the fight – which was wildly inappropriate, and we’ll discuss that. But the way you both handled that call was a disaster, from start to finish. You were impulsive, reckless, and I strongly suspect, acting out of spite for one another. At the expense of human lives. That is unacceptable.”  “Sir –” Boden lifted a finger, cutting Kelly off. “If you’re about to argue with me, I would think twice.” From the way Kelly pressed his lips together and tightened his fists at his sides, Matt suspected his silence caused him actual pain. He nodded obediently, though, and Matt looked back to the chief. “When I found out about your relationship, I agreed that you could continue to work together as officers in this house as long as your relationship did not negatively interfere with the job.” Boden’s expression softened as he continued. “Right now, I’m realizing I may have asked you the impossible. All couples fight, and it would take a great deal to keep that out of the workplace while doing this job. But in this job, we have no room for error.” Before Matt could even process what he was saying, Kelly spoke. “I swear, Chief, we can do this, if you give us one more chance. I’ll sign us up for couples’ therapy on Monday. But… if – if this is really it, if we can’t work together anymore, I’ll transfer. OFI will probably still take me.” Matt whipped his head around to stare at him, hardly believing his own ears. Studiously avoiding his eyes, Kelly looked straight ahead. To someone else, the Squad Lieutenant’s expression may have given nothing away, but Matt knew better than that. He was about one straw from a complete meltdown, and Matt would be right there with him on the floor. Boden shook his head, not even taking time to consider the offer. “That’s not happening,” he said sharply, making it clear there would be no argument. “I’m not going to decide your permanent fates today. I need time to make a decision, and I want to give you time to think about it, too. But I can say that you’re not leaving the front lines to take a desk job – unless that’s really the career path you want.” Almost imperceptibly, Kelly shook his head. “Good,” Boden said with a hint of a smile, meeting Kelly’s eyes. After a few seconds, he moved on to Matt, looking into his eyes with an emotion Matt couldn’t quite identify. The one word that did come to mind was “regret.” “I really don’t want to lose either of you. But I would rather transfer one of you out of this firehouse than watch one of you lose the other. I know part of the way we project strength as firemen is by brushing off the close calls… but this time, I need you both to really think about how close we came to that ending today. We’re having this conversation right now because we got lucky. That’s it.” Matt’s nose started to run, and he sniffled as quietly as he could. He was already barely holding it together, and the mere suggestion of thinking about losing Kelly was nearly enough to do him in. Risking Boden’s wrath in a way Matt would never dare for at least the third time that day, Kelly reached across the foot and a half of space between them and squeezed his hand. It was only for a moment, but the caring gesture brought tears to Matt’s eyes. Blinking furiously, he managed to gain control of his emotions, avoiding the embarrassment of actually bursting into tears. He couldn’t possibly handle much more, especially without a drink. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his limbs felt heavy. He wanted nothing more than to get out of Boden’s office, preferably to a cold shower and the comfort of his bunk. “Are we getting spanked?” Kelly asked bluntly. He just had to go there. It wasn’t like Boden would forget to bring it up – why poke the sleeping bear? That was Kelly, though. Boden’s lips twitched, but he managed not to smile. “I’m not planning on it, but I’m not going to rule it out. I want to talk to each of you individually, and you can talk yourself into trouble like nobody else I know.” Matt risked a tiny smile. It was almost like Boden knew Severide. (If he only knew.) “Is there anything else you want to say while we’re all together?” Matt shook his head. After a few seconds, Kelly did, too. “Okay,” Boden said calmly. “Matt, take a seat on the couch. Kelly… scram. I’ll let you know when I want to see you again.” They both smiled at the playful tone of his dismissal, relieved that the worst of their battalion chief’s anger seemed to be fading. Turning towards the couch, Matt made sure his knuckles brushed against his boyfriend’s as they passed. “Love you,” he whispered despite Boden’s presence. What more did they have to lose? “I love you too,” Kelly said at his usual volume. “Remember what I told you, ‘kay?” Matt nodded stiffly, embarrassed to feel his face flushing. “Yeah.” With one last, surprisingly loving smile, Kelly left. Before Chief Boden could even take his seat, Matt’s emotional floodgates burst. He’d been keeping so much bottled up for so long – not just since his encounter with Voight, but since the day of the suicide bombing, at least. Finally sitting across from the one person in the world to whom he could tell the whole truth, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Chief, I think I’m in over my head. I messed everything up, and I’m so sorry. Please don’t make Kelly transfer out. It should be me. This job is everything to him, and I’m the one who screwed up.” Sitting across from Matt with his arms and legs wide open and an almost sympathetic expression on his face, Boden held up his palm, motioning for him to stop. “Take a breath, Matthew.” Obediently, Matt took a slow, shaky breath. And then two. “When Sergeant Voight told me you’re helping with an investigation at that strip club, he also mentioned that he forbade you to discuss it with Kelly. Is that the root of your problems?” Matt wanted to say yes. He longed for an easy out. But he couldn’t bear the thought of living with any more lies. “No.” Alarmed at the frailty of his voice, he cleared his throat. “I relapsed. I’ve been drinking again. I haven’t told Kelly, but he confronted me with his suspicions. So… I might have made him think he was being crazy when he confronted me, but he was right.” Already wishing he could take back that confession, he squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Unfortunately, the battalion chief sitting across from him was still real.  
Shit. 
“Casey,” Boden said evenly, prompting Matt to look up. “For the moment, let’s forget about Lt. Severide. Right now, we need to focus on you.” Matt managed a short, stiff nod. “Okay, sir.” “Let’s start at the beginning. When did you first relapse?” Haltingly, with many awkward pauses while he gathered his thoughts, Matt told Boden everything: The decision, which he now recognized as humiliatingly foolish, to reintroduce drinking in moderation in case his addiction magically fixed itself. Starting out with small sips of bourbon with Jack Nesbitt, but rapidly spiraling to sneaking full bottles of liquor in his truck. He even confessed the really damning parts – Voight’s threat of DUI charges, and his occasional use of Kelly’s Percocet pills. He probably could have gotten away with taking that part to his grave, but once he started talking, the need to clear his conscience took control.  “Why, Casey?” Boden asked. He leaned forward in his seat, his expression giving no hint of the anger Matt expected. Only earnest concern. Breaking off eye contact, Matt wiped his face. He’d spent so much time trying to answer that for himself… He didn’t know how to even begin to explain it to his chief. What was wrong with him, anyway? Everything he wanted – marriage, a family, and his firefighting career – could be within reach, if he was just brave enough to take it. He spent years longing to be able to marry Kelly, and now that it was attainable – gay marriage finally legalized, with Kelly practically begging for a ring on his finger – he couldn’t stop thinking of “what ifs.” Ever since Kelly came back to work, every call put Matt’s nerves on edge. But one of them having to leave 51 was a Pandora’s box of anxiety all on its own. Kelly could die because Matt wasn’t there – how many times had one of their lives hinged on the other being there to save him? Over the course of a decade… dozens.  The thought of not being there was too much to bear, nearly bringing Matt to tears. Marrying Kelly could mean losing him.  On the other hand, as demonstrated that morning, continuing to work together could bring about the same result. The only way to make that kind of loss even more unbearable would be to make it his fault. He’d already lived through that nightmare way too many times – with his dad, Darden, Hallie… even Rebecca and Brandon Jones. Not to mention all of the victims he’d lost in calls over the course of a 13 year career. Sometimes he felt like he was haunted by too many ghosts to fit in his apartment. Realizing how close he’d come to also getting his own boyfriend killed would keep him up at night for weeks. Not that sleepless nights were anything new. He couldn’t think of the last time he felt well-rested. He didn’t voice any of that to his boss, of course. Instead, he stared down at his hands. “I’m not exactly sure… but after the bombing at Chicago Med, I’ve had a hard time getting back to normal. Kelly bounced back like nothing ever happened, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that terror I felt, when I thought I was watching him die. I don’t want either of us to have to leave 51, but… I honestly don’t think I can take it anymore.” Nodding, Boden silently encouraged him to keep talking. “Every time I see him in danger now, it’s like my brain starts to shut down. I know that could be fatal – especially for him. Everyone on a call depends on me to be at the top of my game. But I can’t seem to control these emotions, except by dulling them with alcohol.” “Have you been drinking before or during shifts again?” Boden inquired. Pressing a finger against his nose to stop it from running, Matt shook his head. “No, sir. But I took one of Kelly’s pills right before I walked into the firehouse this morning. I – I had a headache.” Clarifying that it was only half a pill seemed like a waste of breath. That would only be admitting that he had enough self-control to ration his supply, and that wasn’t exactly a good look. “You have the pills with you, then?” Boden asked, making a visible effort not to react. “They’re in my truck,” Matt admitted, barely hearing the crack in his own voice. “Go get them,” Boden instructed. “You’re going to hand them over to me, and I’ll get rid of them for you.” Reluctantly, Matt nodded and stood up from the couch. “Yes, sir. Um… Are you going to tell Kelly about them?” Boden’s raised eyebrow was the only clue he needed that his question was ill-advised. “Sorry,” he quickly mumbled, turning towards the door.  “You’re going to tell him about it,” Boden said to his back. “But it doesn’t have to be today.” Matt’s face burned with shame while he walked outside. Nobody he passed paid him any mind, but that did little to ease his humiliation. He successfully dodged Kelly by going out the entrance on the other side of the firehouse from the app bay, then walked all the way around the block to reach his truck. He opened the passenger’s side door, then looked around, making sure nobody was watching before he touched the glove box. Finding no one in sight, he quickly opened the compartment, retrieved the pill bottle, and stuffed it in his pocket. Closing the door, it dawned on him just how badly he didn’t want to do this. Those pills were a lifeline, the one surefire way to get him back in action after a headache or a hangover. But, he sternly reminded himself, they were also illegal. He and Kelly could both get in a world of trouble over this. For a brief moment he could only chalk up to insanity, he even considered swapping out the pills, putting the few, precious remaining Percocet in the over-the-counter pill bottle and giving Boden a prescription bottle of Excedrin. The chief wasn’t an idiot, though, and Matt didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he caught on. Getting transferred would be the least of his worries. On the walk back to Boden’s office, more terrible ideas drifted through Matt’s mind: Everything from taking the remaining pills now so they didn’t go to waste, to getting in his truck and driving away, never showing his face at the firehouse again. (Was this how Kelly felt when he ran away to a cabin in the woods?) But he resisted all of those temptations. He didn’t embarrass himself by coming clean just to head for the hills now. Back in the relative safety of Boden’s office, his face burned even hotter as he handed over the pills. While Boden squinted to read the tiny text on the label, Matt began wishing for a sinkhole. “How many pills were in here to begin with?” “Ten,” Matt said. “Um, I filled it the first week of March.” He didn’t dare to point out that seven and a half pills in two months wasn’t really that much, but he hoped Boden would do the math for himself. It wasn’t great, and the thought of having to tell Kelly filled him with shame – but it wasn’t like he was popping a Percocet every morning. “There’s a date,” Boden said shortly. “Okay, tell me the truth, Matt. Have you taken any pills or drugs from any other source?” Matt shook his head. “No, sir. This is it.”  Please believe me, he wanted to beg. He wasn’t sure if he would believe himself, in Boden’s shoes. Voight’s words came back to him: “You’re an addict, Casey. Addicts lie.”  Sighing, Boden nodded, then opened one of his desk drawers. He put the pills inside, then looked across the desk to meet Matt’s eye. “I’ll be moving those as soon as you walk out of here. So don’t even think about it.” Matt cringed at the accusation, but based on the things he’d been thinking just a minute ago, Boden’s concern was warranted. “I don’t want them back,” he lied, wishing it was true. “Good.” Boden gestured toward the couch with his head, and Matt returned to his seat. He buried his face in his hands for a few seconds, past the point of trying to hide his misery. If he was speaking to anyone else in the CFD, he would conduct himself more professionally, but Boden was more like an older brother who just had the unfortunate job of being the boss. “I’m so sorry,” he said without looking up, speaking more to his friend and mentor than to his boss. “I know I screwed up, and I should have asked for help a long time ago. I just – I thought I had it under control. I didn’t realize how bad things really were until that call this morning.” He flinched when Boden placed a hand on his knee, but relief soon overcame his surprise. It was an undeniably comforting gesture, one Matt definitely hadn’t expected. He doesn’t hate me.  “I try to avoid speaking in cliches,” Boden said, “But a problem shared is a problem halved. I’m proud of you for taking the first step.” They sat quietly for what felt like forever, but was probably only a minute or two. Finally, Matt sighed and sat up straight, looking his chief in the eye. “What happens next? How much trouble am I in?” Coming clean lifted part of the weight on his shoulders, but as Boden’s remark about taking the first step made clear, he still had a long way to go. Boden leaned back in his seat, contemplating his response. “You’re not in any trouble… in that I’m not going to punish you for your addiction. You came to me and asked for help as soon as you recognized that you needed it. That was our deal.” Flooded with gratitude, Matt nodded. “Thank you, Chief.” As much as he dreaded the chief’s spankings, being suspended – or even just formally reprimanded – would be worse. Other methods of informal discipline – cleaning the bathrooms, or doing extra drills – didn’t seem anywhere near sufficient for what he’d done. Any punishment he could think of would leave him feeling even more humiliated and pathetic than he did now. Being spared any of those fates seemed almost unbelievably generous, leaving him to wait nervously for the other shoe to drop. “I can’t just let this slide, though. You need to get sober, Casey.” Unable to avoid Boden’s piercing gaze, Matt nodded again. “I know.” “Have you thought about your treatment options?” Matt bit his lip. “Um… I should probably call my sponsor when we’re done here. I already go to a weekly support group for members of the CFD in recovery, but maybe I can find a couple of AA meetings to go to, too, at least during the first few weeks.” Boden tilted his head, but it wasn’t quite a nod. “Matt… I don’t want you just bottling things up and holding yourself together. I need you whole, healed, and completely focused on the job, before you can go on another call. I think you should consider whether some additional help might be useful here. If you need to take a few weeks, go to rehab or another more intensive type of treatment program – your job will be here when you’re ready for it.” Matt gaped. “I don’t – I don’t need rehab, Chief,” he said, forcing a wry laugh. “Um – maybe therapy. Like, once a week for an hour in someone’s office. I can work, Chief. It’s not that big of a deal.” “It is a very big deal,” Boden countered. “Yeah,” Matt hurriedly backtracked. “I mean, yes, of course, it’s a big deal. What I did was completely unacceptable. But I can handle it. I just won’t drink again.” Boden sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, Matt. You know as well as I do that it isn’t that simple. I want you to stay here at the firehouse until the end of your shift, primarily because I don’t feel comfortable sending you home right now. But consider yourself on indefinite light duty, with an open invitation to take medical leave. I’m going to need medical clearance before you go back out in the field.” “What?” Matt gaped. “Chief, you don’t have to –” Seeing Boden’s scowl return, Matt stopped himself mid-sentence. “You are not fit for duty, Casey. This isn’t a punishment, and it isn’t that I’ve lost faith in you. I am protecting you. It isn’t safe for you to go out on calls until you’re sober and mentally fit.” Matt pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, peeling off a chapped piece. He knew he didn’t need to go to rehab, but if Boden was expecting an outpatient therapist to sign off on his recovery… that could add up to a lot of weeks of sitting around the firehouse with nothing but paperwork and maintenance to keep him busy. If the CFD even let him stay on light duty at 51. They might make him transfer to a desk job. “I know this is a lot,” Boden said. “Try to take it one step at a time. As long as you make an honest effort to do the right thing, I’m here to help. Give it time, but we’ll get you back on track.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

One Friday night in mid-June, Matt heard yelling from inside Kelly, Andy, and Heather’s apartment when he was halfway up the stairs. He continued to the top but waited to listen before knocking, holding the 12-pack he was carrying against his hip. Years of childhood conditioning trained him not to interrupt a fighting couple, but curiosity drew him close to the door.

“I HAVE a job!”

Andy yelled. It sounded like they were in the living room, right on the other side of the door. Matt took a couple of steps back in case they opened it.

“I mean a

REAL

job! It’s one thing to play firefighter in your 20s when you’re single, but that’s over!”

“I could be single again, you know!” Andy retorted, making Matt cringe.

“REALLY,

Andy?” Heather screamed. “I tell you I’m fucking

PREGNANT,

and

THAT’S

what you say?”

Matt’s eyes widened, and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Heather is pregnant?!

Hearing footsteps on the stairs below him, he turned and looked down over the railing. To his relief, it was Kelly, carrying the two deep dish pizzas they ordered for dinner.

“Hey,” Matt said quietly, nodding towards the apartment.

Kelly broke into a half-jog for the last flight of stairs, joining Matt on the landing. “Damn, are they

still

going?”

“We can

deal

with you being pregnant, but I’m not quitting the Academy!” Andy yelled, as if in answer to Kelly’s question.

“So… That’s exciting,” Matt said with a wry grimace.

“It’s

something,

alright,” Kelly muttered.

“Three months,

apparently.”

“There’s a job waiting for you at my dad’s company! 50,000 a year starting salary, no waiting around and hoping to be assigned to a firehouse, no probationary year, and regular hours. It’s the perfect job for you.”

“I

HAVE

a job!”

“You need a

REAL

job, Andy!”

Rubbing his neck, Matt glanced over at Kelly. “They’re repeating themselves now.”

“Oh, that loop’s been going since we got home this afternoon,” Kelly informed him.

“Three

months?”

Matt echoed, finally processing that. “That’s – Did they just find out today?”

Kelly nodded. “When we left this morning, she was going to the doctor because she had a stomach virus that just wouldn’t go away. When we got home, she dropped the news.”

“That’s some virus,” Matt remarked.

Kelly snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll say.”

“Are we going in?” Matt asked.

Kelly looked at the door for a few seconds, apparently considering their options. “We really should. He’s my best friend, and he’s been alone in there for over an hour.”

Stepping back, Matt waved him towards the door. “Have at it, then.”

“Coward,” Kelly accused.

Matt raised his eyebrows. “You’re the one who has a key, Severide. Because you live here. Remember?”

Rolling his eyes, Kelly handed Matt the pizza boxes and took out his key. Before he turned the doorknob, he called out, “We’re coming in!”

“How bad did you want to yell ‘CFD?’” Matt quietly asked.

“I do

now,”

Kelly said.

“Hey, guys,” Heather said brightly when they walked in, acting like nothing was wrong. Even if they hadn’t heard the screaming, though, her bright red face and disheveled hair would have given her away.

Leaning with both hands against the counter between the kitchen and the living room, Andy simply nodded in acknowledgment of their presence.

“We brought pizza,” Kelly announced.

Matt didn’t mention the beer, quietly setting it just inside the door. He didn’t want to give Heather another reason to yell.

“Did Severide tell you the news?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair in a useless attempt to untangle it.

Still leaning against the counter, Andy lifted his head to shoot her an incredulous glare. “I think we just told everyone in the building, babe.”

“That Deaf couple down on the 1st floor might not have heard,” Kelly helpfully reminded them, earning glares from both halves of the fighting couple.

Walking past Andy, Matt got a stack of plates down from the kitchen cabinet. He spent enough time at their apartment that by now, he knew where everything was kept. Among the four of them, he was the only one who ever bothered to put away the clean dishes. If they had a third bed, he would pretty much be living here.

He got through almost five minutes in the apartment before he had to speak a word. Once they dug into the pizza, even Andy and Heather fell silent, and he wasn’t about to stir the pot. The silence was painfully awkward, but he preferred it to the alternative.

After a few minutes, Kelly – the one who chose and ordered the pizza – said, “This is good pizza, huh?”

Andy snorted, and Matt smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Good sauce to cheese ratio.”

Heather huffed, and Matt quickly fell silent, averting his eyes. Unfortunately, it was too late.

“So, Matt,” she said with a smile that instantly put him on guard. “Are you dating anyone?”

“Um, no,” he awkwardly answered. He almost added that he was too focused on his career, but he didn’t want to do that to poor Andy. Still feeling like he needed to say more, he added, “Nope, not dating anyone.”

Andy snorted again, and Heather turned to glare at him.

“What’s so funny,

babe?”

Seeing Andy’s frantic expression, Matt quickly stepped in to change the subject. “Hey, you guys have Kool-Aid packets in the kitchen, right? Do you want me to make a pitcher, Heather?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Sure, Matt. Thanks. It’s so nice of you to offer.

You’ll

make someone a great boyfriend someday.”

While the three men carefully avoided exchanging wide-eyed looks of horror, Matt stood up, abandoning his friends in favor of retreating to the kitchen. Severide might get a thrill from being in the middle of his roommates’ fight, but Matt would rather not. Listening to them start bickering again, he bit his lip and shook his head.

Andy and Heather could be in for a rocky 18 years.

By the next time Matt saw Andy on Sunday afternoon, the drama seemed to be dying down. Heather wasn’t home, but her stuff was still there, and Andy greeted him with his usual grin. He didn’t have any visible injuries, and nothing in the living room appeared broken – so he and Heather must have started to work things out.

“Hey,” Matt said, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken “

how are you?”

“I’m gonna be a

dad,”

Darden announced, stepping back from the door. “Oh my god, I’m going to have to wear those awful white gym shoes.”

“I’m pretty sure the shoes are optional,” Kelly said with a slight roll of his eyes. “Hey, Matt.”

Assuming the collection of empty beer bottles on the counter wasn’t left over from the day before, his friends had a respectable head start on their drinking. They didn’t usually get drunk on Sundays, with Academy classes the next day, but he supposed this was a special occasion.

Extending his hand and wiggling his fingers, he motioned for Severide to hand him a bottle from the box by his feet. “Hi,” he answered once he had the beer in hand. He draped himself across the empty chair, hanging his legs over the armrest. “I see the meltdown is progressing nicely.”

“I’m gonna be a

dad,”

Darden repeated, shaking his head. “To a

human.”

“He’s stuck on a loop,” Kelly explained. “It’s kind of funny, kind of disturbing.”

Darden jumped up from his seat and walked into the kitchen to drop off another empty bottle, then turned to face them again. “I don’t know how to change a diaper. Oh my god. I’ve never changed a diaper, and now I’m going to be a dad.”

Kelly sighed. “You’ll learn how to change a diaper, Andy. You’re a fireman, for fuck’s sake. You can handle a diaper.”

“It’s not

a

diaper!” Andy protested. “It’s, like, a

million

diapers! Eighteen

years

of diapers!”

Okay, maybe the drama wasn’t dying down quite yet. Through his laughter, Matt tried to bring Darden back down to earth. “Statistically, it’s pretty unlikely that your kid will be in diapers for 18 years. More like 2 or 3.”

“That’s the

same thing!”

Andy ran a hand through his hair, leaving a stripe down the middle standing on end.

“This is the guy who didn’t notice his girlfriend went 12 weeks without a period,” Kelly joked. “He’s not too good with the passage of time.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Andy objected. “She said she didn’t feel like having sex enough times the past few months, I just assumed there was a reason.”

“There was,” Kelly smirked. “You knocked her up.”

Groaning, Andy snatched a throw pillow from the sofa and lobbed it at his head. It missed Kelly by about two inches, bouncing off the wall instead. Shaking his head, Kelly took a sip of beer.

“Where is Heather?” Matt asked curiously. She was usually around on Sundays, unless she and Andy were both out.

“Dinner with her parents,” Andy explained. “She thought it would be best if I wasn’t within pistol range when she told her dad about the… you know.”

He pointed to his stomach, wrinkling his nose.

“You know there’s no baby growing inside of

you,

right?” Kelly teased.

“I need new friends,” Andy frowned. “If all you’re gonna do is drink my beer and make fun of me…”

“Aw, c’mon,” Matt said, holding out his hand. “Jokes aside, man, I’m really happy for you. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Andy took his offered hand, and Matt pulled him down for a hug.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Andy whispered in his ear.

“I heard,” Matt said, patting him on the back. “To a

human,

apparently.”

“I’ll learn how to change a diaper too,” Kelly promised, while Andy went to sit on the couch. “In case Heather decides she trusts me to babysit.”

“Oh, I want to babysit, too,” Matt volunteered. “I love kids.”

Andy nodded, then buried his face in his hands. “I like kids too. I

want

kids… someday. It’s just – I’m not

ready

for this. I can barely even take care of

myself.

I mean,

look

at me – I can’t even use a condom!”

His friends both snorted with laughter, unable to help themselves. At first, Matt felt guilty for laughing at his friend’s distress, but seeing their reactions made Darden smile, too.

“You’ve got this, man,” Kelly said decisively. Holding up his beer bottle, he added, “And respectfully, all that shit Heather’s been saying about being a firefighter and a dad… it’s bullshit. The only example she’s seen firsthand is Benny, but Benny’s a special breed. Most of the guys I know in the CFD are family men. You’ll be home day and night for 2 days at a time when your kid is little, you’ll have health insurance for your wife and kids, and after your probationary year, your pay and job security will be better than you could get with an office job. Firefighting is a

great

career for a parent.”

“Wife,”

Andy whispered, covering his mouth.

Matt and Kelly exchanged nervous glances.

“Um, you don’t have to marry her,” Kelly clarified. “I mean, it’s not 1950. That’s up to you guys. But either way, you’ll have insurance for the kid.”

Matt furrowed his brow. “How long have you two been together?”

“Four years,” Andy answered. “I mean, I guess I always assumed I would marry her

someday.

I just thought I would have more than 200 bucks in my savings account when I went to pick out a ring.”

Matt couldn’t imagine being with someone for four years without taking the next step. His longest “relationship,” if you could call it that, was just a few months – so four years seemed like a pretty big deal. But neither could he imagine having a baby at 21. He would definitely be freaking out, in Darden’s shoes.

“Try looking at pawn shops,” he suggested. “I’ve seen some really nice stuff there that just needs cleaned.”

Kelly wrinkled his nose at that idea. “Or department stores. Also cheap, but didn’t just go through a divorce.”

“What if it was pawned by the children of some old lady who was happily married for 50 years?” Matt countered. “There has to be some kind of luck in that, right?”

“So they snatched it off her body to make a couple hundred bucks? That’s kind of dark,” Andy said.

“You could always give her a ring pop,” Kelly suggested.

“Yeah,

that

will convince her I’m taking this seriously,” Andy grumbled.

Matt didn’t know how anyone could think Darden wasn’t taking this seriously. The poor guy looked like he could either burst into tears or spontaneously combust at any moment.

“Has Heather mentioned wanting to get married?” he asked curiously, wondering if he could nip this spiral in the bud.

“No,” Andy sighed. “I mean, not since we found out about the…” He gestured at his stomach again.

“Baby,” Kelly supplied.

“We’ve talked about it in the abstract before, just talking about the future. But we never put a date on it. I just assumed we would talk more once we were settled in our careers.”

Matt scratched his neck, not sure how much input he should give. It was different for Severide; he’d known Darden since they were five. Despite their almost immediate bond, Matt hadn’t really known them for that long. The last thing he wanted was to overstep and make things weird.

“Are you sure she even wants you to propose?” Kelly asked, unafraid to offend his friend. “Even with the baby, maybe she’d rather hold off.”

Cringing, Andy massaged his temples. “I guess I should probably talk to my girlfriend, huh?”

The next Saturday night, Kelly invited all of his friends out to celebrate his 21st birthday. His birthday was technically on Sunday, but with graduation coming up soon, nobody wanted to risk showing up on Monday morning with a hangover. Kelly couldn’t legally drink until midnight, so they all planned to meet outside the club at 11:45.

Predictably, Kelly invited Matt and Andy to pregame before the party. They didn’t want to disturb Heather, so they hung out at Matt’s place instead of theirs. His roommates had no grounds to be annoyed – they’d been making it impossible to study in his own bedroom the whole time he was at the Academy.

Matt bought pizza, buffalo wings, and beer for the occasion, leaving harder liquor for later in the night. He thought about cooking something himself, but he worried that might be embarrassingly domestic. In general, he only shared his love of cooking with the people he dated. As far as anyone else knew, he could only make chili and corned beef.

When Severide and Darden knocked on his door, he checked his reflection before answering. To his amusement, the birthday boy greeted him with an enthusiastic hug, then took him by the wrist and followed the smell of pizza.

Andy was in better spirits this weekend, the worst of his shock having worn off. He and Heather agreed to get married at the courthouse later that summer so she could use his CFD health insurance for the birth, but he wrote her an “IOU” for the diamond ring. For now, it was more practical to put their money towards getting ready for the baby. As Andy put it, 18 years of diapers could really add up.

“So, how’s it feel to be on the cusp of adulthood?” Matt asked Kelly.

The blue-eyed man stuck out his tongue in response, then took another wing from the box on the counter.

“Now that you’re an adult, you’re supposed to flip him the bird instead,” Andy informed him.

“Oh, sorry,” Kelly apologized, flipping them off with the hand holding a buffalo wing.

“You have another hour and a half to learn,” Matt reassured him.

“When’s your birthday, Case?” Kelly asked.

“March,” he said lightly, hoping they would shrug off the fact that he let the day pass without mention.

Frowning, Kelly pointed a chicken wing at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Matt shrugged. “It wasn’t an exciting birthday like 21. Didn’t see any reason to bring it up.”

“It was an excuse to celebrate,” Andy pointed out. “You can’t deprive us of a chance to party.”

“Sorry about that,” Matt said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“We’ll forgive you this time,” Kelly said. “But you only get one pass. What

day

in March?”

“Are you going to put it on your calendar?” Matt asked.

Kelly narrowed his eyes. “Yes. You think you’re going to miss out on your birthday spanking two years in a row?”

Matt’s neck and face suddenly heated, and he knew he was visibly blushing. Andy coughed like he was trying not to choke, and Kelly reached over to pound him on the back.

“The 24th,” Matt said, ignoring

that

question in favor of the first.

He is not flirting with you,

he reminded himself, cursing his pale, easily-blushing skin. One of the first things he learned about Kelly Severide was that his non-stop flirting wasn’t personal – he was like that with everyone, regardless of sex or age. If he didn’t hit on you at least occasionally, it meant he

really

didn’t like you.

Later at the club, Matt met a dizzying number of Severide and Darden’s high school friends. He only caught two or three of their names, but it didn’t really matter. Their primary roles were to buy the birthday boy’s drinks and to talk him into hitting on various girls. With a couple of tequila shots in him, it didn’t take much convincing.

Near the club’s 3 AM closing time, Matt stood to the side of the dance floor with Darden and two of his friends, nursing their last drinks of the evening. Kelly was dancing with a girl he met earlier in the night, and from the way things were going, Matt doubted Andy would have to worry about getting him home.

“It’s too bad Danny couldn’t make it,” one of the high school friends said. “I miss that guy.”

“Danny?” Matt asked distractedly.

“Kelly’s ex,” he answered casually, and Matt nearly spat out his drink. “He’s doing some kind of internship in New York this summer. He was always the life of the party, man.”

Blinking, Matt took another sip of beer, hoping none of them would see the shock on his face. Out of all the people he knew, Kelly Severide was the last he would have expected to date another guy. Apparently, all of his other friends considered it old news, but he saw Darden eyeing him nervously long after the conversation moved on.

Smiling slightly, Matt shrugged one shoulder and gave a subtle nod, silently telling him,

‘I don’t care.’

Andy visibly relaxed, content that he wouldn’t need to step up in defense of his best friend.

Matt forced himself to tune back into the conversation, which had already moved on to a story about the marijuana Andy brought to Kelly’s 16th birthday and the resulting effort to get the scent out of their clothes.

“Yeah, man, I was hoping you’d do that again tonight,” one of the unknown guys said.

It was Andy’s turn to blush. “That’s a thing of the past. The CFD drug tests… and, this seems as good a time as any to tell you, my girlfriend Heather is pregnant.”

The guys grinned, congratulating Andy and slapping him on the back. Smiling widely, Andy lapped up the attention, acting like he couldn’t be happier to become a dad.

“We need to buy this guy another round before they close,” one of them declared.

Both of the guys made their way back over to the bar, leaving Matt alone with Andy.

“So…” Andy said, raising his eyebrows.

Shrugging, Matt casually looked straight ahead at the dance floor. “We’ve all got a past, right?”

To his relief, Andy let the conversation end there. Matt had no more interest in discussing Kelly’s dating history than his own. It was a weird thing to talk about, and it rarely went well. Even people who

tried

to be cool about it treated him differently once they knew.

He hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Severide and Darden, but he was still

months,

at least, from being ready to share. He suspected Kelly probably felt the same way – if he was comfortable disclosing that part of his past to Matt, he would have done so himself. With that in mind, the best option was clearly to pretend he hadn’t heard a thing.

As he suspected, Kelly had his own plans by the time the club closed. He playfully slapped Matt’s butt on his way to the door, then linked arms with the tall blonde who was taking him home.

“Happy birthday!” Matt called after him, shaking his head.

“Thanks, Case!” Kelly answered brightly. “Good night!”

Matt wasn’t sure why, but he smiled to himself the whole train ride home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kelly’s stomach was in knots the entire time he waited to be summoned back to Boden’s office. It wasn’t his own conversation with the battalion chief that worried him – however much Boden might yell, it would barely be a blip on Kelly’s radar. Instead, he was almost sick with worry about his boyfriend. Trying not to spiral, he reminded himself of Matt’s inner strength. As far as Kelly was concerned, his angel was the most courageous and resilient person he’d ever known. But Matt also had a well-hidden emotional fragility just beneath the surface, especially when it came to letting people down. Over the years, more nights than Kelly could count had been spent lying awake listening to his boyfriend over-analyze a call – sometimes one from weeks, months, or even years in the past. Boden’s not-so-subtle suggestion that he could have caused Otis, Welch, and Kelly to be hurt that morning had to be tearing him up inside. Kelly retreated to his quarters while he waited, unable to bear sitting at the Squad table or in the common room. It wasn’t just his concern for Matt – he was embarrassed by his own public outburst, too. It wasn’t his worst, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the first one in a while. That was one of the biggest goals he set in therapy: to avoid flying off the handle when upset, especially at work and with Matt. But despite his best efforts and more than $2,000 in therapy bills, all he had to show for it was losing his temper with Matt twice in one week. He should have taken the opportunity to finish his report, but this wasn’t a “throwing himself into the paperwork” kind of mood. With a single guilty glance at his desk, he flopped down on his bunk and draped his arm across his face. 
Damnit, Matt. 
Everything went wrong so fast. One day, his biggest challenge in life was pretending to be patient while waiting for Matt to propose, and the next, they were screaming about Andy at 5 a.m. like it was 2012 all over again. Matt must have been struggling in secret for a while, but Kelly didn’t have a clue. As far as he was concerned, their relationship was better than ever… until it wasn’t. Thinking back over the past few months, Kelly tried to work out what happened. Near as he could tell, the first sign that anything was bothering Matt came right around the time he met Jack Nesbitt. Maybe working in a strip club was the trigger, or maybe something happened between Matt and Nesbitt when Kelly wasn’t around. Either way, Kelly had a bad feeling about the job from the start. Maybe he should have tried to talk Matt out of it, but as a general rule, they stayed out of each other’s (literal) business. After this, that might need to change. If Matt didn’t realize on his own that it wasn’t healthy for him to take jobs in places that served alcohol, he would have to say something. He understood, more than ever, why Shay couldn’t bear to stand by and watch him blow up his life after Andy died. Watching Matt suffer was as painful as going through it himself. Moving out of their apartment definitely wasn’t on the table – he’d abandoned Matt too many times. It was the right decision for Shay, after weeks and weeks of trying to convince him to get help. But even if they got to that point, that wasn’t the right move with Matt. His angel needed to learn, possibly for the first time, that someone would love him no matter what. More than an hour later, the door of Matt’s office slammed shut. Cringing, Kelly sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bunk. Matt’s talk with Boden took forever, and based on the tone of that door slam, it didn’t go well. He sent Matt a quick text, hoping Boden wouldn’t come looking for him before they could check in. “You alright, angel?”  To his relief, Matt answered within seconds. “I’m ok. I love you.”  It wasn’t the most profound text he’d ever received – definitely not one for his screenshot collection. But it could have been worse. At least Matt wasn’t ignoring him or lashing out. Nodding slightly, he texted back, “I love you too,” and locked the screen of his phone. Instead of making the chief come looking, Kelly made his way to his office. Every footstep echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet halls, and again, he caught his coworkers avoiding eye contact when they passed. It was two of the guys from Engine 51, so they weren’t even on that morning’s call. The firehouse gossip mill was obviously hard at work. The door to the bullpen was closed, so he waited in the hall. Fortunately, he only had to wait a couple of minutes to hear footsteps on the other side. Quickly shoving his phone back in his pocket, he stood at attention with his most apologetic smile. When Boden opened the door, Kelly’s stomach dropped at the sight of his bloodshot eyes. He’d seen the chief cry before, but only when someone was dead or dying. What the hell is going on?  “Hey, Chief.” “Lieutenant,” Boden said evenly. “Come on in.” Nodding nervously, Kelly followed him through the bullpen and into his office, where Boden pointed to the couch. Kelly stared at him for a few seconds, at an uncharacteristic loss for words, but quickly shook it off and sat where Boden pointed. Instead of sitting across from him, the battalion chief stood with his hands on the back of the chair. Kelly wondered for a moment if he would speak at all, or if the plan was just to stare him down until he wilted. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, hoping to break the tension. Boden stared at him a few seconds longer before answering, “I know you are.” Tugging at the knee of his pants, Kelly looked down at the floor. He would have loved to offer an explanation for his actions, or a genuine promise it wouldn’t happen again – but with only a hazy idea of what happened, there wasn’t much he could say. Finally, Boden sighed, shook his head, and took his seat. Kelly straightened his back, able to tolerate looking the chief in the eye now that they were on the same level. “How are you doing, Kelly?” Kelly wasn’t sure which was more of a surprise – Boden’s cordial tone, or the use of his first name. It wasn’t that Boden never addressed him as a friend, but this wasn’t shaping up to be the conversation he expected.  How am I? He wasn’t sure. “Um, to be honest… I’m a little overwhelmed. I know I messed up and I need to fix it, but I – I have no idea where to start.” Boden nodded slowly, pressing his lips together. Kelly’s eyes dropped back to the floor. If he was really being honest, he would have confessed that he was sick with terror, increasingly desperate to fix whatever was bothering Matt. But he didn’t have that much honesty – or bravery – to spare. “Let’s start with honesty,” the chief suggested. “Now, you know I’ve talked with Lt. Casey. I’m not going to share all the details of that conversation, but he opened up to me quite a bit about his recent struggles. As a result of the things we discussed, I’ve placed him on light duty. He isn’t in any trouble, but it isn’t safe for him to work.” Kelly exhaled, suddenly aware that he’d been holding his breath. The slammed door in the bunk room made sense now. He would be upset too, in Matt’s shoes. But as his boyfriend, he was just grateful someone had the power to intervene before things got any worse. “Thank you,” he said, just above a whisper. Boden nodded. “Now it’s your turn. Walk me through this, from your perspective. What’s going on?” If Wallace was being honest, “overwhelmed” was a pretty good description of how he felt, too. For most of the day, he was furious. Arriving on the scene to find Truck and Squad fighting over how to handle a call – with Severide, Welch, and Otis inside a building about to blow, and Casey frozen on the lawn – nearly gave him a panic attack of his own. He’d seen that scenario play out before, and he never wanted to bury another firefighter. The parallel didn’t escape anyone present. He could see it in their eyes, wide with shock long after everyone was safe – and in his anger, Casey even dared to say it out loud. These people couldn’t handle another Darden. The loss of that young man still weighed heavily on Wallace’s mind, and he had no doubt every one of his people felt the same. The firehouse had just been starting to heal from back-to-back blows – Darden’s and Jones’ deaths, Hadley’s betrayal, Shay’s injury. His people were resilient, but Wallace didn’t know if he could hold them together through yet another tragedy. But if the Truck and Squad officers didn’t work together on each call, that was exactly what would happen. Venting to Donna after the call, Wallace’s fury started to fade. His lieutenants’ actions were inexcusable… but were they really that surprising? When he agreed to let them both stay on at 51 after finding out they were dating, it was with the full understanding that he was dealing with two hotheads. The firehouse ran like a well-oiled machine when they worked together, but it didn’t take much to throw a wrench in those gears. All things considered, he might have asked them the impossible – essentially setting them up to fail. Then Lt. Casey’s confession changed things again. Wallace knew Casey was a recovering alcoholic, but the possibility of a relapse hadn’t even crossed his mind. Casey had a gift for pretending everything was fine, and prying his secrets out of him wasn’t easy. So when Severide said he had no idea what was happening until two days ago, Wallace believed him. As far as Wallace could tell, Kelly really didn’t know about that bottle of Percocet, either. Wallace had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it seemed obvious that he had a right to know his boyfriend had a prescription filled in his name and took those pills behind his back. If he was acting solely as “Friend Wallace,” he would probably tell him, or at least force Casey’s hand. But his larger role made everything more complicated. He couldn’t afford to have that blow-up in his firehouse, especially in the middle of a shift. And as Casey’s boss, it wasn’t his place to rat him out to his boyfriend. “I – I get it if Matt and I can’t work together anymore,” Severide said once he’d finished his story. “I respect that it’s your choice, but if you decide one of us has to go, it needs to be me. Matt needs this house, and I don’t think this house is ready to lose Matt, either. But… they wouldn’t exactly miss me.” Putting his sympathy for the man in front of him to one side, Wallace answered as his chief. “I hear you. I’ll make the best decision I can for this house and this neighborhood. Your preferences are part of that equation, but you need to manage your expectations.” Maybe foolishly, he still hoped no transfer would be necessary. The news of Casey’s relapse, unfortunate as it was, actually bolstered those hopes. Addictions and mental health crises were problems that could be solved, at least in some cases, and Casey was highly motivated to do the work. That said, he had no way of knowing how long it might be until Matt could return to active duty. He’d taken the first step in good faith, but still, it was only one step.Putting Casey on light duty allowed Wallace to kick the can, but that was a stop-gap measure, at best. Truck 81 needed a leader. Herrmann might be qualified to hold down the fort indefinitely, but giving him a lieutenant’s work without the bugle or the pay wasn’t exactly fair. Meanwhile, finding a qualified Squad officer – let alone one with Kelly’s talent – was like searching for a unicorn. Neither Capp nor Tony had any interest in a promotion, and Wallace would rather be busted back to captain himself than put Tommy Welch in charge. Kelly nodded in resigned acceptance. “Thanks, Chief.” “If there’s anything you need while you and Casey work through your personal issues, ask,” Wallace ordered. “I know you’ve been opposed in the past, but you are both eligible to take leave to attend therapy or your support group when it falls during shift. And you can always come and talk to me before things get this bad.” “I probably would’ve been here by the end of shift anyway,” Severide disclosed. Smirking, he added, “You’re pretty much beaten any temptation to keep secrets out of me.” Wallace rolled his eyes, giving the lieutenant the reaction he wanted, but it wasn’t yet time to lighten the mood. “Your self-improvement over the past two years hasn’t gone unnoticed. You’ve always been a natural leader, but this past year, you’ve really come into your own. If the threat of a spanking has kept you motivated, I’m glad – but I’m even more glad that your behavior hasn’t warranted it in so long.” “It did today,” Severide said quietly, staring at Wallace’s left shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. Wallace took a beat before he answered. His instinct was to brush the comment off, but something in Severide’s demeanor gave him pause. Considering his response, he carefully studied the younger man’s face, not speaking until he looked up. “Kelly,” he said, deliberately employing his given name, “When I’ve spanked you in the past, it was a consequence for specific behaviors: lying to me, and deliberately carrying on with something you knew was wrong. Hiding injuries that put lives at risk, plotting or covering up felonies, that kind of thing.” As he hoped, Severide snorted softly in response to his tone, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Your actions on that call this morning were unacceptable. You should have waited for the gas to be shut off before you entered the house or allowed anyone else to enter. Afterwards, you should not have lost your temper and made a public scene. But unless I’m missing something, those were momentary lapses in judgment, not willful misconduct.” He waited, forcing Kelly to respond. After a few seconds, the lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, Chief.” “So it’s your choice,” Wallace said neutrally. “If you think being spanked will help you move on from this moment and do better in the future, I’ll do it. But I need you to be clear that it won’t affect my decision about your and Casey’s future in this house. That’s a matter of safety, not discipline.” He shouldn’t have been surprised when Severide nodded. “I might be crazy, but I think it would help. I know it’s weird, but sometimes I just need something physical like that to let stuff like this go.” “You don’t have to decide right now,” Wallace advised him. “You can take the night to think about it.” The corners of Kelly’s mouth turned up for just a second. “I think that’s what I’m hoping to avoid, Chief.” Wallace smiled briefly, shaking his head. “Okay, then. I won’t use the belt – that’s only for premeditated misconduct, and that’s nonnegotiable.” Severide nodded again, visibly relieved. “Works for me. Just your hand, then?” “I also have a hairbrush,” Wallace informed him. Donna, bless her, brought it to the firehouse that morning at his request, when he was still angry enough to clobber them both. She also talked him down, but he stashed the brush in the drawer where he kept the belt, just in case. To his satisfaction, Kelly pressed his lips together for a second before nodding yet again. “Okay. That sounds fair.” “You don’t have to do this,” Wallace reminded him. Severide lifted one shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Matt didn’t have to tell me he was drinking for me to know. I didn’t think of talking to you this morning because I was still processing it myself, but I should have. God forbid, I’m ever in that position again… make sure I remember.” “Okay,” Wallace said slowly. “If you’re certain, I need you to remove your boots and your trousers. Your underpants can stay up for now, but I will lower them during your spanking.” He watched Severide carefully while giving those instructions, and the man didn’t flinch. Leaving the lieutenant to ready himself, Wallace prepared his office, closing the blinds and locking the door. It wouldn’t stop the sound from carrying, but at least it gave the officer being punished an illusion of privacy. He then opened his desk drawer and retrieved the heavy wooden brush, which he held out to a now half-dressed Severide. “Hold onto this until I ask you for it,” he instructed. His cheeks reddening almost imperceptibly, Kelly nodded and accepted the brush. “Yes, sir.” Pushing aside his own awkwardness, Wallace took a seat on the couch. Anticipating his next order, Kelly followed. “Come here,” he said unnecessarily, taking him by the elbow to guide him over his knee. “It’s going to be easier if you angle me like this,” Severide informed him, easily adjusting for their difference in size. “I’m pretty sure I can hold still, but this’ll let you pin me down with your leg if you need to.” Wallace raised his eyebrow, but didn’t comment. To Donna’s disappointment, he made a point of not knowing any details of Casey, Severide, and Clarke’s sex life. “You will hold still,” he said decisively. “You literally asked for this one. This is your last chance to back out.” “I’m, uh… I’m ready, sir,” Kelly said. The pause sounded less like hesitation, more like he just couldn’t find the words. Wallace could empathize with that. He rested his hand on the center of Severide’s cobalt blue boxer briefs. “Tell me why you’re being spanked.” “I let my personal problems interfere with the job, I didn’t say anything about Matt not being fit for duty, and I set a really bad example for the house with Truck vs. Squad… again.”  Class dismissed. Wallace would have let Kelly go then and there, the lesson obviously already learned – but that wasn’t what he needed at the moment. “We’re going to get you and Casey through this. And if there’s a next time, you will do better.” “Yes, sir,” Severide readily agreed. Without further ado, Wallace lifted his hand and brought it down hard against the center of Kelly’s ass. He repeated the action as quickly as possible, uninterested in dragging this out. As promised, Kelly held completely still, not so much as twitching a muscle. The slaps echoed in the room, but the lieutenant didn’t make a sound. Keeping an eye on the clock, Wallace spent two and a half minutes spanking Severide by hand. He varied the smacks unpredictably, unconcerned with ensuring every inch of skin was equally punished this time – this time, it was more about the experience than the end result. He did make sure to give attention to Kelly’s upper thighs, though, finally eliciting a soft gasp. “Give me the brush,” he instructed. Severide immediately handed it over, practically throwing it into his hand. Rolling his eyes, Wallace ran his hand once up and down his back. “I don’t want to lose you, Kelly,” he said, giving in to sentimentality. He gave his left cheek a light tap with the brush. “I don’t want to watch you lose another person you love, or everything you’ve worked for. So I’m going to make this count, in the hopes that I never pull up on another scene like this morning again.” Not giving Kelly a chance to answer that, Wallace resumed the spanking. He swung from his wrist, rather than his elbow, but peppered the seat of Kelly’s underwear with smacks so fast he could barely keep count in his head. In the next two minutes, he covered the bottom in front of him with as many light, stinging swats as he could, leaving the stoic lieutenant squirming and out of breath. “Lift your hips,” he instructed after only a moment’s pause, placing his fingers in Severide’s waistband. His hips obediently lifted, and Wallace yanked his underwear down just far enough to expose his light pink butt cheeks, leaving everything below them at least hypothetically covered. He was thrown for a moment by the sight of a new (and girly) tattoo on Kelly’s ass, but he pushed that thought to the same corner of his mind as his officers’ sex life and moved on. Pressing down on Kelly’s back with his left hand to keep him in place, Wallace finally delivered a full-force smack. As he expected, Kelly’s entire body twitched in response to the increased intensity. Wallace paddled the same spot another four times, then switched to the other cheek.  “Ah,” Kelly gasped sharply, then fell silent again. His butt cheeks bounced to the rhythm of the hairbrush — five on one side, five on the other, and repeat. Aside from that, he was perfectly still while his butt turned from pink to red. “You feeling this?” Wallace asked. “Yes, sir,” Kelly answered, sounding tense, but not distressed. “I’m going to give you ten more on each cheek, and then it’s finished,” Wallace announced. “Yes, sir.” Kelly’s butt clenched in anticipation, so Wallace gave it a few light taps. “Try to relax.” “Yes, sir.” The moment Severide’s muscles relaxed, Wallace snapped the hairbrush against the lower half of his butt. He focused all of the final 20 smacks there, making sure Kelly would feel those the next time he sat down. “Good job,” he said when it was finished, setting the brush aside. He carefully raised the back of Severide’s underwear over his throbbing butt cheeks, then rubbed a circle between his shoulders. “Thank you, Chief,” Severide said quietly, still resting his forehead against the couch. “You’re a good man, Kelly,” Wallace reminded him, gently prompting him to stand. “If this is something you need to move on from your mistakes, I’m glad to do it. I know we won’t have to have this particular discussion again.” “No, sir,” Severide agreed, glancing around the room for his pants. With a hand on his arm, Wallace turned him in that direction, unable to resist one final, playful swat. The lieutenant didn’t speak while putting on his pants and stepping into his boots, which he didn’t bother to tie. When he finally turned, he was wiping tears from the corner of his eye. “Would you like a hug?” Wallace offered, getting to his feet. Based on past experience, he knew the answer. Kelly bobbed his head. “Yeah, I would.” Wallace took a step forward and opened his arms, and Kelly threw himself against his chest. Sighing, Wallace pulled him close and cupped the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry you and Matt are going through this,” Wallace said sincerely. “Matt’s choices aren’t your responsibility, but yours are. I know firsthand that it isn’t easy, but you can choose to rise above this, be the best you can be despite what’s going on around you. That’s what I’m calling on you to do.” Sniffling, Severide nodded. “Y– Yes, sir.” Just as Wallace tried to figure out what to say next, an alarm sounded over the intercom. “Truck 81, Ambulance 61, MVA at the intersection of Lakeshore and Lincoln.”  “I’m going to take this,” Wallace reluctantly announced. “Herrmann doesn’t know he’s in charge yet.” Severide took a step back and swiped his sleeve across his red-rimmed eyes. “Yeah – okay. Um – thanks again. For this, but mostly for helping Matt. It – It means a lot, knowing you have his back.” “Always,” Wallace assured him, clapping his sore palm against his shoulder. “Go rest now. We’ll talk again soon.” “Yes, sir,” Severide said, heading for the door. “See ya Tuesday.”“Oh, and Lieutenant?” “Yeah, Chief?” “Nice tattoo.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt thought he was excited for his first day at the Fire Academy, but that didn’t hold a candle to his first day on the job. Most of the recruits received their assignments during a ceremony on graduation day, with the exception of a couple of lucky bastards who knew they’d been hand-picked by their COs – Severide included, of course. He’d known his assignment since before they started at the Academy – his new battalion chief was the one who convinced the CFD to bend the admission rules. Matt and Darden, meanwhile, had to sweat it out until graduation. When the moment finally arrived, Matt had never been so grateful for a name near the start of the alphabet. One at a time, the graduates’ names and firehouse assignments were announced, and they stepped forward to shake hands with the brass. Matt was fourth in line, so he didn’t have long to wait. 
“Candidate Matthew Casey… District 4, Firehouse 51, Truck Company 81.” 
Matt’s face burned with the effort of trying not to grin. Located about halfway between the Back of the Yards and Downtown, Firehouse 51 was one of the busiest houses in the city. Despite his high scores on every test, he hadn’t dared to hope for such a good placement – the brass must not have been as upset about him punching Griffin as he thought. Moments later, the announcer continued, “Candidate Andrew Darden… District 4, Firehouse 51, Engine Company 51,” and Matt’s jaw almost dropped. Surely, that had to be a mistake. But nobody stepped up to question it, and he wasn’t about to, either. Darden’s expression mirrored his shock, but it quickly gave way to a smile. If their instructors caught the subtle high five as they got back in line, they were kind enough to let it slide. Matt listened attentively while the rest of his classmates were issued their assignments. To his relief, Ted Griffin was assigned to a house in another district, on the outskirts of the city. With any luck, he would never see the smug bastard’s face again. After the ceremony, Severide quickly found Matt in the crowd. As expected, he was assigned to the truck company stationed at Firehouse 36. He’d already moved into a basement apartment in that neighborhood, eager to give Andy and Heather their space. Matt tried not to be jealous of his friend’s head start – he, like everyone else, would have to figure out his living arrangements during his first week on the job. He lucked out in that Firehouse 51 wasn’t much of a commute from where he lived now, but the past couple of weeks of waiting left his fingernails chewed to stubs. To his credit, Severide recognized, and often seemed embarrassed by, the special treatment he received. He wasn’t crazy enough to pass up the chance to start the Academy a cycle early, but once he got in, he was determined to make it on his own merit. Matt actually didn’t know much about the legendary elder Severide – every time someone started to tell a story, Kelly either changed the subject or pulled Matt away. Matt knew a thing or two about having complex feelings about one’s dad, so he didn’t pry. “Congrats, buddy,” Severide said now, giving Matt a quick hug. Turning to Darden, he added, “You too, squirt,” and squeezed him tight until he started to squirm. “Prick,” Andy muttered when he finally escaped, but Kelly just grinned and ruffled his hair. Meanwhile, a middle-aged man slowly chatting his way through the crowd caught Matt’s eye. He wore a CFD dress shirt and tie, but Matt didn’t recognize him as any Academy instructor they’d had. Under other circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought much of it, but what really caught Matt’s attention was that he carried himself just like Severide. “Hey,” he said quietly, nudging his friend’s shoulder. “What?” Kelly asked, turning to look where Matt nodded. “Oh, yep, that’s Benny. Don’t worry, he may or may not even make it all the way over here.” Despite that prediction, the elder Severide found his son in short order, only speaking briefly to each person who stopped him on his way. Seeing his approach, Andy started to pull Matt away, but Kelly’s dad called out to him by name. “Andy Darden! Where do you think you’re going?”  “Save yourself,” Andy whispered to Matt before turning around. Shaking his head, Matt turned around too. As much as he respected Kelly’s desire for privacy, he was a little bit curious, too. Besides, Mr. Severide already saw Matt, Andy, and Kelly together – it would be rude to just walk away. “Hi, Benny,” Andy said politely. “And who’s this?” Kelly’s father asked, looking Matt up and down. “Matt Casey,” Matt said cordially, extending his hand. Standing behind his dad, Kelly stared at him like he was out of his mind, but Benny simply smiled as he accepted. “Benny Severide. Nice to meet you, Matt Casey.” The handshake was firmer than necessary, but not quite enough to hurt. So far, the guy seemed normal – a bit distracted, but it was a big day. But Matt knew better than most that the way people acted in public had little to do with how they treated their family behind closed doors. Nobody would have ever guessed what went on in his household. “I never thought I’d see the day,” the older man said, slapping Kelly on the back. “I’m glad you’re finally on the right track, son.” “Thanks, Dad,” Kelly said wryly, making eye contact with Andy and wrinkling his nose. Still smiling, Benny didn’t seem to notice his sarcasm. Resting his hand on Kelly’s shoulder, he attempted to dismiss Andy and Matt. “Congratulations, boys. It’s nice meeting you, Casey. I’m going to take Kelly out for a drink, but I’m sure we’ll run into each other again if you keep running with my boy.” Kelly shrugged his hand off and took a step back. “Actually, I made plans to go to dinner with Casey, the Dardens, and Andy’s fiancée, Heather. I – I’d love it if you came with us.” Despite his eagerness to flee the scene, Andy rallied and slung an arm across Kelly’s shoulders, meeting Benny with a beseeching smile. “Yeah, Captain. Casey here hasn’t had a chance to hear any of your war stories yet.” Raising his eyebrows, Kelly’s father looked first at Andy, then Matt, and finally his son. Hesitant to intrude on their family time, Matt briefly considered backing out – but one look at Severide’s face told him his friend needed some moral support. “I heard you saved his new battalion chief’s life,” Matt offered. “If that’s a story you don’t mind telling, I’d love to hear it.” “Well… okay,” Benny finally agreed. “Not sure if I can stay for dinner – I’m meeting with someone at 7 to talk about a suspicious fire at the strip mall out in Ashburn. But I have time for drinks and a couple of stories, maybe a round of appetizers.” “Great,” Kelly unenthusiastically agreed. Again, his poor acting skills didn’t seem to phase his father, who cheerfully turned to quizzing Darden about his wedding plans.  This is going to be interesting, Matt thought. They might not have anything on his family’s drama, but something told him the Severides could put on quite a show. It didn’t take long for Matt to learn that Darden wasn’t kidding about saving himself. Within moments of being seated at the restaurant, Benny looked him in the eye and asked, “So, Matt Casey, where are your parents this evening? I know why Kelly’s mother didn’t come, but I’m surprised your folks didn’t want to take you out this evening.”  “Dad,” Kelly said sharply, but Matt forced a smile. “They couldn’t make it,” he said simply. “Kelly told me you were on Rescue Squad for a few years before you started doing arson investigation?” Benny nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sixteen years, yeah. Actually, I spent the last five years I was on Squad over at your new house, 51.” “Oh yeah?” Matt asked. “You got any inside knowledge about the house?” “Yeah,” Benny answered. “Don’t sit at the table next to the Squad rig in the app bay… at least until you make Squad.” Kelly cleared his throat. “You know the captain over there, don’t you?” “I know everyone over there,” Benny said, his voice dripping with disdain. “So, Matt Casey, what does your father do?” Kelly’s face reddened, but Matt gave a small shrug: It’s okay.  “He passed away when I was 17,” he confessed, hoping Benny felt at least a little bit awkward. “He was a general contractor.” “And no girlfriend?” Benny asked, completely undeterred. Matt raised his eyebrows. “No... Not much time for dating during the Academy.” The waitress dropped off their drinks and Matt gladly sipped his beer, hoping the conversation would move on. “We’re glad someone found the time for some romance,” Andy’s mother said brightly, earning a horrified stare from her son. “This little nugget is the best thing to come out of the Fire Academy.” “It didn’t take much,” Heather muttered. Both Matt and Kelly snickered, while Andy’s stepdad struggled to refrain.  “Thanks,” Andy answered, rolling his eyes – but despite the teasing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders with a proud smile. “So, Casey,” Benny said, and Kelly’s hackles went up again. Hoping to reassure him, Matt flashed him a quick smile before turning to his father. “Yeah, Captain?” “You think you’ll settle down like Darden here someday, or are you more of a bachelor like my son?” There was an undertone of malice in that question, but Matt couldn’t quite figure out why. He avoided looking to Kelly for the answer, though, not wanting to stir the pot. “I’d like to have a family someday,” he answered honestly. “I’m not planning to do much dating while I’m a candidate, but after that, I’d love to find the right person to settle down with.” “Are you a native Chicagoan, Matt?” Andy’s mother asked, smoothly changing the subject. “Yeah, Norwood Park,” Matt gratefully answered. The neighborhood he grew up in was a relatively safe topic, as long as nobody had too good a memory for local news. Encouraged by Andy’s saint of a mother, he talked about his childhood memories of the neighborhood and the schools he attended up until his senior year, not mentioning that he ultimately graduated from a school on the other side of the city. To his relief, the conversation then moved on to Andy and Heather, who were getting married in less than two weeks. The Baptist church Heather’s parents attended was hosting the wedding for free, even providing a meal for the reception afterwards. Neither of the couple was thrilled about the venue, but with a baby on the way, they didn’t want to wait. At least they did both seem to be getting excited about the baby – that was the important part. Unfortunately, when the conversation reached a natural pause, Benny turned the attention back to Matt. “So you went to private school, huh? On a contractor’s salary? What is that, family money?” Matt gave him a withering stare for just a second before he answered. “Um… no. My sister and I were both on scholarships, and our parents sacrificed a lot to cover the rest of the cost. Giving us a good education was really important to them.” (If the Darden and Severide parents assumed from his phrasing that they were both deceased, he didn’t particularly mind.) “And you chose to use that to enter the fire service?” Benny asked, his eyebrows knitting together in question. Gripping his beer glass a little tighter, Matt met the older man’s eye. “I can’t think of a better place to put my education to use than by saving lives as a firefighter. Do you think that was a bad call, Captain?” Kelly’s lips practically disappeared inside his mouth, while Andy used his napkin to cover his grin. Matt tensed, ready for an outburst, but a smile slowly spread across Captain Severide’s face. “Not at all,” he acknowledged, tipping his head. “It’s a noble career. Any parent should be proud to have a son in the CFD.” Matt and Andy both gave Kelly pointed looks, and he cracked a tiny smile. “Thanks, Pop.” “We’re very proud of Andy,” his mother announced, squeezing her son’s shoulder. “Worried, of course, but also incredibly proud. I’m sure your parents would feel the same, Matt.”  Fat chance, Matt thought, taking another drink. He probably should tell his mother at some point – last she knew, he was still waiting to get into the Academy. But he already knew what she would say, and he didn’t feel much of an obligation to fill her in on every part of his life. Their visits went a lot smoother when he only told her what she wanted to hear. As promised, Benny left the restaurant before they ate, making for a considerably less awkward dinner. Most of the conversation focused on the upcoming wedding and, of course, the baby. Heather’s pregnancy was 15 weeks along now, and the shock of the news seemed to have worn off for almost everyone involved. Her father was still ready to strangle Andy, primarily because he didn’t approve of firefighting as a career, but Heather had already come over to Andy’s side of that debate. She may not have loved the thought of the father of her child putting himself in harm’s way, but at the end of the day, she wanted him to be happy. Nobody who really knew Andy could picture him behind a desk – as Heather herself pointed out, her dad probably would have wanted him out of his office within a week. After dinner, Andy and Heather got a ride home with Andy’s parents, but Matt and Kelly decided to continue their celebration with drinks that didn’t come with family drama attached. There were a few bars within walking distance of the restaurant, so they decided to walk around until they found one that looked fun. “Hey… I’m really sorry about that,” Kelly said, motioning back towards the restaurant. “My dad is kind of a livewire, and paired with Andy’s parents…” Matt shrugged. “Sometimes life sends me a reminder that not having parents isn’t always the worst thing in the world, y’know? ‘Cause I promise – mine could have put that to shame.” Kelly snorted softly, shaking his head. “You’re incredible, Matt Casey.” They soon found a sports bar with outdoor seating and a Cubs game on TV. The patio buzzed with activity, but it wasn’t too loud – nobody was overly excited about the game. Despite having just eaten a full meal, Kelly ordered a platter of fried mozzarella sticks, buffalo wings, and celery for their table along with their drinks. “You expecting someone else to show up?” Matt asked. “Nope,” Kelly grinned. “I just figure we finally get to start celebrating now. Thanks for being a good sport, but you can’t even pretend that dinner was a good time.” “Okay, but if you can’t fit in your bunker gear on Monday…” Matt joked. “Don’t forget, my metabolism is two years younger than yours,” Kelly pointed out. “Are you saying I should hold back?” “Nah…” Kelly said with a smirk, pointedly looking Matt up and down. “Your figure can take it.” Futilely willing his cheeks not to turn red, Matt quickly changed the subject. “So, your dad used to serve out of my new house, huh? Do you know anything about it?” Kelly sucked on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then released it with a soft pop. “Um, a little. My dad – he actually ran out on the family not too long after he transferred over to 51. So I didn’t spend as much time around the firehouse as when he was on Squad 4. But I know it’s a good house – one of the busiest ones. I think you’ll really like it there.” They spent nearly five hours at their table, having a much better time than during the first dinner of the night. Matt often found that words flowed more easily with Kelly than when he talked to anyone else. Despite his outward cockiness, Kelly was one of the few people Matt had observed to really give a shit about the people around him. He didn’t just feign interest to get what he wanted from a conversation – he actually listened to people. He made Matt feel seen in a way he’d never really experienced before. Near the bar’s closing time, they finally drug themselves down the street to the L-train station. They were taking trains in opposite directions, so they said their good nights on the platform. “How’s it feel to know you’ll be going to work in a real firehouse instead of the Academy on Monday morning?” Kelly asked while they waited.  “Great,” Matt said honestly. “I’m going to miss seeing you every day, though.” Severide’s face lit up with a smile that quickly morphed into a smirk. “Aww, really?” Blushing a little, Matt tried to backtrack. “Hearing your voice, though – not so much.” “I’ll give you a photo for your locker,” Kelly offered, still smirking. Matt rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.” At 7:30 on Monday morning, the long-awaited moment finally arrived: Matt and Andy walked through the door of Firehouse 51 for their first day as candidates. Matt was nervous, well-aware that the impression he made that day would set the tone for his career, but his anxiety was more than outweighed by excitement. After wanting this for nearly as long as he could remember, he was finally living his dream. The two candidates each had to introduce themselves during the morning briefing, one of the most awkward moments of Matt’s life. The assembled firefighters stared through him like he didn’t even exist – the only smile came from his fellow candidate. Their Academy instructors warned them that their new colleagues might initially be frosty, and that certainly seemed to be the case at 51.  Thank goodness we have each other, Matt recognized. There was only one other house that accepted two candidates on the same shift that cycle, and those two recruits weren’t even friends. Whatever they went through in these first few months of being firefighters, at least he and Andy would have each other’s backs. After the briefing, Matt and Andy filled out the last of their onboarding paperwork with the firehouse’s administrative assistant, then went to claim their lockers. Of the three available, they were lucky enough to find two side by side, right in the middle of the row closest to the exit. They carefully wrote their names on tape and placed them on the doors of their lockers, with the hope that they would be there for a long time to come. “Here,” Darden said, handing Matt a 5x7 photo of the trio in their turnout gear on graduation day. “Severide said you wanted this for your locker.” Chuckling, Matt accepted the photo. “Of course he did.” Darden didn’t have any pictures of Severide for himself, but he did hang up the ultrasound he’d been carrying around for the past week. “I don’t know, Andy – it still looks like an alien to me,” Matt observed. “You sure you don’t want a paternity test?” Andy rolled his eyes. “If it comes out green, Heather and I will have to talk.” “What’s this?” one of their new coworkers asked, coming up behind Darden. “Candidate, did you get someone pregnant?” “He hopes so,” Matt said, earning an adorable glare from his friend. The fireman – Herrmann, if Matt remembered correctly – grinned widely, slapping Andy on the shoulder. “Congratulations. There’s nothing like being a dad. My first is two now, and he’s the funniest little guy you’ll ever meet.” “You gonna have a second?” Andy asked. Herrmann nodded, reaching for his wallet. “Yeah. My wife Cindy is 7 months pregnant.” He pulled out a folded-up ultrasound picture and passed it to Darden. Looking over his shoulder, Matt commented, “See, that one looks like a baby.” “Shut up, man,” Darden said, giving him a playful shove. “Mine’ll look like a person by the time it comes out.” “Eh…” Herrmann said with a shrug. “Kinda depends on how it makes its exit. If they gotta use suction or forceps, that can make their head kind of a funny shape.” “Suction?” Andy echoed. “Like…?” “Like a turbo-charged vacuum cleaner,” Herrmann said cheerfully. “They attach it to the head and suck the baby right outta there. Makes ‘em kinda cone-shaped, but the swelling goes down after a couple weeks.” Darden’s eyes widened, and Matt snorted with laughter. He wasn’t sure how true that information was, but it gave Andy yet another thing to worry about leading up to the birth. “C’mon, Casey, the lieutenant wants us to do an aerial drill, if you’re up for it,” Herrmann invited, motioning towards the exit. “Heck yeah, I’m up for it,” Matt agreed, closing his locker. “Don’t trip!” Andy called after him. “Oh, go stretch a hose or something.” That weekend, Severide hosted Darden’s bachelor party, a surprisingly low key affair. Kelly wanted to go all out with strippers and a keg, but Andy insisted on pizza, IPAs, and a movie with his close friends instead. “When you get married, I’ll throw you a rager,” Andy vowed. “It’s just not me.” “I’m gonna hold you to that,” Kelly said sternly. “If I ever get married.” Matt wasn’t sure why, but he felt a twinge of sadness every time his friend mentioned the possibility of long-term bachelorhood. It didn’t escape his notice that Benny made a similar remark during their graduation dinner – something about Kelly being the bachelor type. Matt hadn’t even known the guy for seven months, but he questioned whether that was what he really wanted for himself. Kelly loved kids (maybe because deep down, he still was one), but it was almost like he didn’t think he was worthy of having a family of his own. Maybe it had something to do with his dad. Matt didn’t know the full story, but Kelly had mentioned a few times that his dad ran out on the family when he was young. Once again, Matt could relate to his plight – he worried about the possibility of following in his dad’s footsteps, too. They ended up with five guys spending the evening in Kelly’s new apartment, gathered around his TV. Matt felt slightly out of place the whole time, the only one who didn’t grow up in their neighborhood. Andy and Kelly’s friends were nice, but their favorite pastime was reminiscing about high school. An hour in, he wished he had a nickel for every time he heard “you had to be there.” At a point in the conversation where nobody was paying him any mind, Matt slipped outside for some fresh air. It was a warm, clear evening, and Kelly’s new neighborhood was so quiet he couldn’t hear anything but a couple of HVAC units and traffic on the street a couple blocks away. Sitting on the steps that led up to the street from Kelly’s apartment, he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, allowing calm to fill his lungs. The front door creaked open, and Kelly stuck his head outside. “Hey, you alright?” Matt nodded, getting to his feet. “Yeah – sorry. Just getting some fresh air.” He moved to go back inside, but Kelly came the rest of the way out and closed the door before he reached the bottom. “Sorry this is so boring,” he said. Matt shook his head. “I’m not bored. I’m just…” Kelly raised his eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I’m a little bored,” Matt admitted. “But it’s not your party-throwing skills. I just…” “Have a life outside of high school?” Kelly supplied. Showing Matt the lighter and two cigars in his hand, he added, “C’mon, sit down. My smoke break’s just starting.” He passed Matt one of the cigars, and Matt stared down at it for a moment before following him back up the stairs. “Do you not smoke cigars?” Kelly asked when he saw his hesitation. Matt shrugged. “Um, it’s not that I don’t… I have. It’s just… Aren’t these kind of expensive?” Kelly shrugged. “They’re actually not that pricey for an occasional treat. I don’t smoke every day or anything – just special occasions.” Matt probably didn’t appreciate the cigar as much as he should have, but it really was nice – nothing like the cheap cigar he stole from his dad’s stash in 7th grade. He told Kelly that story while they sat on the stairs, and through his laughter, Kelly admitted to doing the same thing at that age. The difference was, Kelly’s father never confronted him about the missing cigar, while Matt’s dad caught him red-handed and took him to the backyard to smoke until he puked. In retrospect, that probably had something to do with Matt’s lack of interest in smoking even once he turned 18. Kelly’s cigars didn’t turn his stomach, but the convenience store version probably always would. “We better get back inside,” Kelly said regretfully once they finished their cigars. “I think Andy’s having a really good time, for what it’s worth,” Matt consoled him. “Yeah,” Kelly sighed. “Hey,” Matt said sharply, bumping his shoulder against Kelly’s arm. “If you wanna plan my bachelor party someday, I promise we can have strippers.” “Do you swear?” Kelly asked. Matt nodded. “Yep.” Kelly stuck out his hand, extending his little finger. “Pinky swear.” “Excuse me?” Matt laughed, raising his eyebrows. “You heard me,” Severide answered.  Shaking his head, Matt linked pinkies with his friend. “Okay. I pinky swear.”  “Good,” Kelly grinned, letting his hand go to reach for the front door. “Just so you know, I never forget a pinky promise.” Matt snorted. “I believe you.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

By three o’clock on Sunday morning, Kelly had given up all hope of sleep. He tried to talk to Matt before bed, but his boyfriend stubbornly kept his phone turned off and his office door locked. Holed up in his own quarters, Kelly tossed and turned in his bunk. No matter how hard he tried to close his eyes and quiet his mind, it just wasn’t happening – his subconscious knew he had a fire to put out before he could sleep.  Despite everything that kept him awake, his ‘conversation’ with Chief Boden went a long way towards easing his distress. He requested a spanking with the hope that it would help him let go of his guilt, but it also forced him to release some of the emotions he’d been bottling up. The problem, of course, was that the catharsis he needed most couldn’t be found with Chief Boden, but it still helped more than he expected. The emotional release cleansed his heart of frustration, clearing way for hope. He and Matt had been in way worse spots before, some of which he was reminded of every time he looked at Chief Boden’s desk. They always found a way through, and they’d figure it out this time, too. And if nothing else, challenging himself not to rub his stinging ass gave him something else to focus on that night. The heart-to-heart preceding the spanking helped more than he thought it would, too. Nothing could change the reality keeping him from his beauty sleep: Matt was hurting, it might be about to get even worse, and all Kelly could do was stand by and pray Matt would let him help pick up the pieces. But knowing Matt confided in the chief eased his fears. If anyone had the power to intervene with Matt when he wouldn’t let Kelly in, it was Chief Boden. Still, none of that was enough to allow him to rest. He thought more than a few times about waking Matt up, but there was no way that ended with anything other than yet another workplace screaming match. No – despite his sense of urgency, this conversation needed to happen off-shift. There were three calls for ambo during the night, but none for the other crews. That meant the bunk room was full of people who could hear every sound he made. He didn’t particularly care about disrupting their sleep, but he tried to keep his tossing and turning to a minimum. The last thing he needed was to give his Squad another reason to think he was off his game. When he couldn’t stand another minute of trying to force himself to sleep, Kelly decided to go for a walk. He slipped his radio belt back over his shoulder and made sure he still had his phone, then snuck past his sleeping coworkers and out through the locker room. Walking outside, he found Matt already standing in front of the closed bay doors, staring out towards the street. Kelly’s heart settled into place at the sight of him, his internal homing signal finally satisfied. “Hey,” Matt said with a friendly nod. “Hey,” Kelly answered. He came to stand beside his boyfriend, copying his position: arms crossed, with one foot against the apparatus bay door. Neither of them said anything more for several minutes, unless heavy sighs counted as communication. Every time one of them sighed, the other did, too. Growing bored, Kelly turned it into a game – every time Matt made a sound, he copied it a little bit louder, until finally the blonde threw his hands in the air and said, “Severide, what the hell?”  Snickering, Kelly shrugged. “I have no idea. But hey, it made you smile.” And he was right – by the time Matt finished the question, his glare turned into a grin. Sighing again, he shook his head, but the dimple on his left cheek remained. “Weirdo.” “Yup,” Kelly said cheerfully, putting his hands in his back pockets. “And you loooove me.” “God help me,” Matt muttered, rolling his eyes, but he took a step closer to Kelly. Kelly waited another couple of minutes before cautiously speaking again. “You ready to sit down and talk after shift?” Matt bit his lip, giving a slight shake of his head. “I have some things I need to do first. Why don’t you have your day with Clarke tomorrow, and we can catch up when he’s on shift?” Kelly did his best not to furrow his brow, but after so many sleepless nights, his best was only so good. “You know, I just want to help. Not criticize you. You don’t have to fix a problem before you can talk to me about it.” Matt sighed, and this time, Kelly didn’t copy it. “You don’t need to worry, Kelly. Really. I’ve got everything under control.” The sick feeling in Kelly’s stomach came back with a vengeance, but he forced himself to nod. “Okay, Matt. I believe in you. Just know that if you need me, I’m here.” Matt was still for a while – long enough for Kelly to worry about what was happening in his head. When he finally spoke, though, it was with a reassuring smile and a gentle brush of his fingers against the back of Kelly’s hand. “I know. And I really appreciate that. But this time, I promise, I have everything under control. Everything will be fine in just a few days.” Although he didn’t argue, it was Kelly’s turn to roll his eyes – with his head turned so his boyfriend couldn’t see it, of course. 
Oh, Matt has everything under control.

God help us. 
Five hours later, Matt changed out in record time and made a beeline for his truck. Dawson and Herrmann tried to corner him in the locker room with questions about why Boden put him on light duty without punishing Severide, but Matt brushed them off with a warning to let their officers work it out. His relationship problems didn’t need to become a class project. Passing through the app bay, he found Kelly still in his station gear, talking with the Squad guys from third shift. Matt decided to keep walking without disrupting their conversation, but Kelly smiled and gave him a two-fingered wave. “See ya,” Matt called on his way out the door. “Catch ya later, Lieutenant,” Kelly answered casually, giving no hint of any tension. Stifling a yawn, Matt went to his truck and got inside. He wished he could go home, take a nap, and talk to Kelly, but Hank Voight had other plans. First, he needed to go check in with Antonio, and then he was taking Katya to Navy Pier. The idea was that in a setting outside of Nesbitt’s sphere of influence, she might feel more comfortable opening up. Alone in his truck, the emotion of the past few days threatened to catch up with him. With a regretful glance at the glovebox, he massaged his throbbing forehead and willed those feelings to remain at bay. He was able to keep his mind clear of worry while he was on shift, but those years of training abandoned him at exactly 8:01. The back of his mind taunted him, almost in a sing-song: “you’re an addict, you’re hurting Kelly, make a hard left turn or you’ll lose your job.” Quieting those thoughts, he kept his focus on the matter at hand. He had to stop Jack Nesbitt and help Katya first. Then he could worry about helping himself. Kelly unlocked the door of Jeff’s apartment and let himself in, knocking on the doorframe as he entered. “Hey babe, it’s me.” “Hey,” Jeff answered, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a dish towel in his hand. He wore a loose-fitting pair of light wash jeans that wouldn’t usually do much for Kelly, if it weren’t for the fact that he was wearing nothing else. “Rough shift?” Forcing a smile, Kelly nodded. “Yeah.” It must be written all over my face.  “What happened?” Jeff asked, leaving the towel on the coffee table and resting his hands on Kelly’s hips. “Matt relapsed,” he reluctantly shared. It felt wrong, talking about this with Jeff before he could even really talk to Matt. But Jeff was his boyfriend too, and keeping secrets from him wouldn’t end well, either. “We – We’ve been fighting since Friday morning, and it spilled over into work. Nobody got hurt, but it wasn’t our finest moment. Boden said he’s not sure if we can work together anymore. One of us might – will probably – have to transfer.” “Oh, babe.” Jeff pulled Kelly closer to kiss his cheek. “I knew something was going on, but I didn’t realize it was that big. I’m so sorry.” Sighing, Kelly rested his chin against Jeff’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Freshly showered, he smelled like pine wood and honey, with just a faint trace of smoke – Kelly could recognize him by scent alone. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you too,” Jeff answered. Without loosening the hug, an act of love Kelly knew cost him at least a little, he asked, “What do you need right now?” “Sleep,” slipped from Kelly’s tongue before he even heard the question. “I haven’t really slept since Wednesday night. Will you sit with me while I take a nap before lunch?” “Of course,” Jeff agreed. He kissed Kelly’s cheek again before loosening his grip. “Are you still going out to lunch with Rice?” Kelly sighed again, and this time it wasn’t with contentment. “Yeah. Make sure I’m awake by 11:30?” Jeff nodded. “Hey, do you wanna come with me?” Kelly invited. “If Matt gets his shit together enough to talk to me tonight, I’ll probably ditch you again – sorry. So this might be your best shot at having a real meal with me today.” “You’re not ditching me,” Jeff gently corrected. “You don’t owe me a third of your time, and as far as I know, Matt and I don’t have a custody agreement.” Kelly smiled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you did.” Jeff returned his smile, then asked, “Don’t you have some personal stuff to discuss with Rice?” Shrugging, Kelly linked his fingers through Jeff’s and pulled him towards the bedroom. “He’ll probably be thrilled to have someone else around to make it less awkward. His kid’s going to be there, so it’s not really a ‘work thing.’ If we need to talk privately, having someone to distract Logan might be our best bet. But I think we covered most of the personal stuff at his house the other day.” “Nobody’s ever accused me of making things less awkward before,” Jeff pointed out. “But sure, if you don’t think Rice would mind, I’ll tag along.” In Jeff’s bedroom, Kelly stripped his clothes off for his nap. Unsure if he still had visible marks on his ass, he paused before dropping his underwear. “I asked Chief for a spanking last night,” he disclosed. “Is it okay if I get some sleep before I try to explain?” To his credit, Jeff had no outward reaction to that news. “Yep. Let’s get you in bed. Sounds like you could really use it.” They climbed into the bed together, Jeff wearing just jeans and Kelly completely nude. Jeff piled pillows behind his back so he could sit up and read a book, while Kelly curled up against his thigh. His dom couldn’t fix everything, but his mere presence was enough for right now. “I love you,” Kelly said, closing his eyes. Jeff soothingly scratched the top of his head. “Sweet dreams, Kell.” When Jeff woke Kelly up at 11:30, the weight on his chest didn’t seem as suffocating as before. Although he only napped for an hour and a half, it was the best sleep he’d had in days. Yeah – he could definitely go for at least another day. Yawning, he sat up in bed and stretched his arms, nearly smacking Jeff’s face in the process. “Show-off,” his boyfriend muttered, eyeing his naked form. “Mm-hmm,” Kelly agreed, closing his eyes while he stretched his neck. “Got coffee?” “Are you sure you feel like going?” Jeff asked. Kelly nodded. “Yeah, I’ll wake up once I start moving. And I’m hungry.” “I’m sure Rice would understand if you want to postpone.” Raising his eyebrows at the worry in Jeff’s voice, Kelly shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. I promised Logan we’d have fun today, and that’s what I want to do. Just – go be a 5-year-old’s ‘Uncle Kelly’ for an hour or two.” “Have you tried sitting down this morning?” Jeff asked while Kelly rolled off the bed and went to the dresser in search of clothes. “I know you’ve had worse spankings, but you do have some mild bruising.” Kelly smiled down at the dresser for a few seconds before he answered, trying not to laugh. “I drove myself here, babe. Also, you’re hilarious.” “Oh?” Jeff asked. The bed creaked softly as he stood. “Yep,” Kelly answered, picking out one of Jeff’s Blackhawks sweatshirts to wear with his own boxers and jeans. “If you’d given me that spanking, whether I can sit comfortably wouldn’t even be a question. I know I haven’t told you about it yet, but trust me – you’ll agree that it was fair.” Finding his old athletic gray Bears hoodie in the drawer, he tossed that and a random t-shirt to Jeff and started getting dressed. His butt was a little tender, he noted, but nowhere near enough to deter him from going about his day. Jeff being concerned about it was adorable.  “Are you telling me what to wear now?” Jeff asked with a smile in his voice. “Just a suggestion. I’ll fold them and put them back if you disagree.” He must not have disagreed, because when Kelly turned around, he found his dom fully dressed. “Damn, now I want to take it back off.” Jeff rolled his eyes. “Later. Is there a reason we’re wearing each other’s clothes today?” “Because your sub is a needy son of a bitch,” Kelly lightly explained. He gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek, then headed toward the kitchen. “You want coffee?” In Jeff’s car on the way to the restaurant, Kelly finally told him about his terrible shift. He did his best to fairly represent Matt’s side of their fight, but at the end of the day, he was right. He couldn’t have handled that call any other way. “Do you understand why Matt got so upset about the call?” Jeff asked. Kelly shrugged. “It’s the same fight we’ve been having for years. He’s a really good officer, and he made Lieutenant a few years before I did. I – I don’t think it’s easy for him to acknowledge when my expertise as a Squad officer is needed on a call. We get in a lot of these fights because he thinks he could handle it without us, or he thinks Squad should be Truck’s back-up while he runs the call.” Jeff’s “hmm” didn’t exactly sound like agreement, but he didn’t say anything more. For about half a block, Kelly thought about letting the conversation end there, not giving into the clear bait. Jeff wanted him to ask for his opinion – he just wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. Guilt kicked in fast, though, and he sighed. “Okay, lay it on me.” “You know Matt a lot better than I do,” Jeff said neutrally. “I’m sure pride plays a role in it. But I’d hazard a guess that at least here lately, it’s more about fear. I don’t want to rub it in, but Matt just lost his best friend and his ex-girlfriend in two fires less than a year apart, and… well, you’ve been through a hell of a year. I’m glad I didn’t have to stand there and watch you go inside that house. I might have lost my cool too. I did when you were in the hospital.” Kelly bristled. “I did what I had to do on that call. I’m not taking unnecessary risks, I’m just doing the job I’ve been doing my whole life. There was a woman in that house who would be dead right now if we had stood around waiting 15 minutes for the gas company. Everyone knew it. If Squad hadn’t been there, you know who would have gone in after her in my place? Matt.”  “I’m sure that’s true,” Jeff agreed. “Matt probably would have jumped on the grenade, too.” “I didn’t jump on the grenade,” Kelly clarified, rubbing his brow. “I pushed the guy holding the grenade out of the way.” It was a more important distinction than people seemed to think. “And then a doctor told Matt you were dead,” Jeff reminded him with a frustrated edge to his tone. “Look, I’m not trying to fight Matt’s battles here. I just think it sounds like Matt’s having a mental health crisis, and we both know what that’s like. You can’t reason your way out of a trauma response. At least not without a lot of therapy.” “So, what?” Kelly asked, tears pricking at his eyes. “Am I supposed to quit? I – I don’t know any other way to do the job.” Jeff reached down to squeeze Kelly’s knee while they sat at a stoplight. “Of course not. You know that isn’t what Matt wants, and it wouldn’t solve his underlying issues. It sounds like he’s the one who needs to figure shit out. But if he has to quit, he’s definitely going to need your support.” Kelly wiped the tears from his eyelashes with the back of his hand, managing to stop more from forming. “I’m sorry for complaining to you about this. I shouldn’t have. I just…” “It’s fine,” Jeff assured him. “I don’t know if we’re doing polyamory the ‘right’ way, but I love you, and that means in a way, I love Matt too.” Kelly had to smile a little at that. Jeff was silent until they pulled up to the restaurant, then continued, “I know some people are more separated from their partner’s other partners, but I don’t think that would work for us. I can stay out of Matt’s business while he figures things out, but I don’t want to be walled off from a part of your life. Especially not when you’re hurting.” Exhaling slowly, Kelly nodded. “Thanks. I’m lucky to have you.” Smirking, Jeff turned off the ignition and took the key from the switch. “Yep.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Despite the frosty reception from his new crew, Matt’s first four months at Firehouse 51 passed in a happy blur. He had thicker skin than most people thought, and he’d never been afraid of hard work. Cleaning the bathrooms, washing the windows, and turning the truck over after every call didn’t phase him – he was just happy to be doing those tasks in an actual firehouse.

And he

liked

cooking, so much so that he often volunteered to take Andy’s turn – the saying “if you want something done right, do it yourself” definitely applied in the firehouse kitchen. He grew to enjoy coming up with new ideas for meals for the house, going beyond the firehouse staples. His coworkers were skeptical at first, having been burned by overzealous candidates before – but they soon became so eager for each shift’s dinner that they crowded the common room while he cooked.

He finally started to make friends that way, particularly with Herrmann, who everyone called “Curby,” and his buddy McHolland, who everyone called “Mouch.” Like most firehouse nicknames, neither of those came with a flattering story, but the men behind them turned out to be both skilled firefighters and loyal friends. Once Matt and Andy were “in” with Herrmann and Mouch, the rest of the house quickly warmed up to them, too.

It wasn’t just his skills in the kitchen that ingratiated Matt with his coworkers. For the first few shifts, his lieutenant only let him carry equipment and manage bystanders when they went on calls. He felt ready for more, but he focused on proving that they could depend on him to do whatever they needed, however menial it was. Gradually, his lieutenant started to trust him more and more.

First, he graduated from carrying the Jaws to actually using them. Being the one to cut someone free from a mangled car was pretty cool, even if it lacked the rush of saving someone from a burning building. Earning enough trust to go inside a working fire took more time, but Matt found plenty of ways to occupy himself until then: assisting the crews on Engine and Ambo, getting lessons from Mouch on how to operate the aerial, and best of all, hanging close enough to listen to the incident commanders and observe how they ran each call. Although he wasn’t exactly doing the job he yearned to do, he took the opportunity to soak up all the knowledge he could.

Eventually – and probably not by coincidence, the shift after Matt first made corned beef for the house – the coach took him off the bench. He could hardly believe it when Lt. Dabrowski ordered him to mask up, but he wasn’t kidding. After six months in the Academy and 12 shifts on the sidelines, he finally got to do what he always pictured when he said he wanted to grow up to be a fireman. Even though he wasn’t the one to make the save that day, it was one of the best days of his life.

Three months later, Matt felt like he’d been part of Firehouse 51 forever. It took a few weeks to breach the circle of trust, but once he was in, he was

in.

To his delight, Thanksgiving Day fell on a day 2nd Shift was working that year. Some of the guys who had families complained, but for Matt, it was the first time he didn’t have to choose between spending the holiday alone or intruding on someone else’s family. That year,

he

got to host the party – or at least cook a turkey in a kitchen Darden had to clean.

Two weeks after Thanksgiving, the firehouse was called out to an electrical fire in a duplex near the hospital. A mom and her toddler had evacuated from the unit on the right, but her 9-year-old son was still missing, probably in his bedroom upstairs. The apartment on the left was occupied by what neighbors described as “a little old man,” but nobody was sure if he was home.

“Squad will do primary search on the delta side; Truck, you take the bravo side. Engine, get us set up with a line on each side of the house,” Captain Boden called out.

“Casey, you’re with me on the 2nd floor. Herrmann, Navarro, you take the ground floor,” the Truck lieutenant ordered.

Nodding, Matt put his SCBA mask on and followed his lieutenant inside the house. The fire was still contained on the delta side of the building, but the bravo side was filling up with smoke. If there was a ‘little old man’ in there somewhere, he wouldn’t be breathing for long.

Matt and the lieutenant made their way directly to the stairs, which were covered in newspapers and other clutter. It wasn’t as bad as some of the hoarders Matt had heard about, but it was obvious that whoever lived there wasn’t big on cleaning.

“This place isn’t going to last long if the fire breaches that wall,” Matt observed. “There’s kindling all over the place.”

“Let’s make it quick, then.”

There were only two doors at the top of the stairs. The bathroom was empty, but the other door was locked.

“Fire department!” Lt. Dabrowski yelled, pounding on the door with his fist. “The building is on fire, and we need to evacuate.”

Nobody answered, and the lieutenant motioned to Matt while taking a step back from the door. “Candidate.”

“Sir, if you can hear me, back away from the door,” Matt yelled, then counted to three in his head before kicking it open. The lock popped open just as he planned, but the door only opened a few inches before being blocked by something.

“Debris?” Matt wondered.

“Or a barricade,” the lieutenant suggested. “I think we’re looking at a resistant resident here. Let’s see if we can force it open.”

With both of them pushing against the door, they worked it open far enough for Matt to slip through – but only if he dropped his air tank. The door wouldn’t budge another inch. It felt like whatever was blocking it must have been wedged against a wall, so brute force wouldn’t do the trick.

“Make it quick.”

Nodding, Matt handed over his SCBA. “Sir, I’m coming in!”

“Go away!”

“Sir, there’s a fire,” Matt announced, turning sideways to slip through the doorway. “This smoke is really dangerous, so I need to get you out of here.”

“You’re the one who’s letting the smoke in!” accused the resident, who was sitting on the bed, brandishing what appeared to be a pair of garden shears. “Get out and close the door!”

Taking a closer look, Matt realized that the neighbors only had ⅔ of their descriptors right. The resident was little and old, but definitely not a man.

“Ma’am,” he said beseechingly, “The smoke is coming through the air vents. Even if I’d left that door closed, it really isn’t safe for you to be here. You need to come with me.”

“No!” the woman shouted. “This is my home, and I’m not leaving!

You

get out!”

“I’ll leave when I know that you’re safe,” Matt countered. “And you can come right back in as soon as the fire is out.”

Someone else would be dealing with the fall-out from that lie, so what did he care? A few weeks ago, he overheard Boden promising a little girl her dad would buy her a pony if she cooperated.

“We’ve got the kid,” Squad reported over the radio. “Truck 81, report.”

“Candidate!” the lieutenant yelled through the crack in the door. “Less talking, more hauling ass!”

Matt took a second to assess the situation. The old lady wasn’t moving. Under some circumstances, he might have taken her with him over her objections – but she didn’t look like she was kidding about those pruning shears.

“Uh, Lieutenant, the resident is brandishing a weapon. A pair of pruning shears.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The door creaked as the lieutenant once again tried to force it open. “What’s she got blocking the door?”

“A dresser,” Matt answered, taking a closer look. “And she’s got a bunch of old newspapers wedged between the dresser and the wall.”

“Will she let you move it?”

“No!”

the woman screamed, standing up from the bed to wave the shears in Matt’s direction.

“Uh, appears not, Lieutenant,” Matt answered, raising his hands and taking a step back towards the door.

Captain Boden’s voice came over the radio.

“Lieutenant Dabrowski, the fire is in the wall between the bravo and delta units. Your exit staircase lies up against that wall. You have one minute.”

“Fall back, Candidate,” the lieutenant ordered. “This is going to have to be a Squad problem.”

“I can’t just leave her,” Matt protested. The air was growing thick with smoke, making his eyes and throat burn without his SCBA. Feisty as she might be, the old lady wouldn’t last long enough for Squad to get up to the window. “I’m already here, Lieutenant. Close the door to give us more time, and I’ll wait with her for Squad.”

“Damn it, Casey,” Dabrowski swore. “I can’t leave you in there with someone who’s threatening to stab you. Squad will handle it.”

“She’s not going to stab me,” Matt said, sounding much more confident than he felt. “Not as long as I stick to my side of the room. I’ll close the door, and maybe she’ll let me put a blanket against the crack to keep the smoke out.”

“Fuck,” the lieutenant muttered. “Okay, I’m passing your SCBA through the door. Put it on and keep a safe distance from the resident. And watch your back. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Damn it, Casey! What the hell happened in here?”

With one hand holding pressure on the wound above his knee and the other keeping a tight grip on the bloody shears, Matt grimaced. “Hey, Captain. Thanks for joining us.”

“Is it safe to enter?” Boden asked, eyeing the old lady in the far corner of the room.

“Mrs. Mancini and I have reached an agreement,” Matt informed him. “She’s going to come outside with us until the fire is out, but as soon as it’s over, she’s coming right back inside.”

Boden raised his eyebrow, but he didn’t argue. Evacuate first, negotiate later.

“Alright. Ma’am, if you’ll come over here, I’ll assist you.”

To Matt’s immense relief, the fight seemed to disappear from the woman the moment she saw his blood. She clearly wasn’t happy, but she walked past him to the window without putting up any more of a fight.

“Bring the shears,” Boden instructed. “You alright to get yourself down the ladder, or should I send someone up to give you a hand?”

“I got it, Cap,” Matt answered immediately. “My bunker pants took most of the damage.”

Not eager to get back within Mrs. Mancini’s reach, he waited at the window until she and the captain were clear of the ladder. Stashing the shears safely inside his jacket, he climbed backwards out the window and slid safely to the ground. By the time his boots hit the grass, he heard shouting – apparently the old lady wasn’t interested in medical care.

“Listen, lady, you can go to the hospital with the medics, or you can go to the police station with the cops. But you are sure as

hell

not going back inside that house.”

Shaking his head, Matt steered clear of that conversation, while both Darden and his lieutenant hurried his way.

“You okay, Casey?” Andy asked.

Lt. Dabrowski expressed his worry differently. “What was the last thing I told you, Candidate?”

“To watch my back, Lieutenant. And I did. She was going for my groin, and I sacrificed my knee. But I don’t think it’s too deep.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t get the femoral,” the lieutenant remarked.

Matt shrugged. That wasn’t his primary concern in the moment – the old bat was aiming for his balls. Blocking her with his knee was all reflex.

“Okay, well, I want you to get checked out at the hospital, but we probably shouldn’t have you and Mrs. Scissorhands in the same ambulance. Truck’ll drop you off once we wrap up here. In the meantime, Darden, grab a med kit and make sure the pincushion here doesn’t bleed out while he waits.”

“What should I do with the shears?” Matt asked.

“Say what?”

Matt pulled the bloody shears from his jacket. “Boden told me to bring these down.”

“Oh, those look ancient,” Darden observed. “Did you see if the blade was rusted?”

Matt cringed. “Um, I don’t think so, and I just got a tetanus booster when I started the Academy.”

“Put the shears in a bag and take them with you to the hospital. Who knows what kind of germs and bacteria might be on them.”

Matt wrinkled his nose. “Yes, sir.”

“Darden,” Captain Boden called out just as Andy finished taping gauze over the cut on Matt’s leg. Even with the protection of Matt’s turnout gear and the station pants he was wearing underneath, the cut was deeper than he would have thought. Andy was able to stem the bleeding with gauze, but he would definitely need stitches.

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Your wife called dispatch. She’s in labor and on her way to the hospital. When Truck drops Casey off at the hospital, you can stay too.”

“Really?” Andy asked. “Today?”

Grinning, Matt slapped him on the back, while several of the other men laughed and Boden rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Candidate,

today.”

“Holy crap,” Andy blurted out. “It’s happening today.”

Matt nodded. “So I heard.”

“Holy crap,” Andy repeated. “She’s not due for another five days. The doctor said the baby would probably be late. Heather and I are

always

late. How the fuck did we have a baby who’s coming early?”

“He’s not

that

early,” Matt pointed out, carefully rolling what was left of his pants back down over his wound. “And honestly, if he takes after you, he’s probably just pulling Heather’s leg. It’ll turn out to be Braxton Hicks, and you’ll get to have this panic attack all over again a week or two from now.”

Andy exhaled. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It’s probably Baby Darden’s first prank.”

As it turned out, Baby Darden’s first prank might have been that day, but it wasn’t what they thought. By the time Truck 81 pulled up outside the hospital, Heather had been admitted to the labor and delivery unit, and the baby was definitely on his way. Andy jumped out of the truck before it fully stopped, then raced through the door like something was on fire.

“Can we get a wheelchair over here?” Lt. Dabrowski called to an attendant, walking around to help Matt climb down.

“I don’t need a wheelchair,” Matt protested, trying to wave him off. He got himself out the window of a burning building; he could easily make it another few yards on solid ground.

“Sit your ass down, Candidate,” the lieutenant ordered, rolling his eyes. “If you pass out on your way into the ER, that’s at least one extra shift I’m going to be down a man.”

Feeling somewhat dramatic, Matt sat.

“Don’t forget to give them the shears,” Dabrowski reminded him.

Herrmann turned around to talk to him from the driver’s seat. “And if you see the stabby granny in there…”

“I’ll steer clear,” Matt vowed.

One of the hospital employees wheeled him into the ER and insisted on “helping” him move from the wheelchair to a bed. He could hear Mrs. Mancini swearing up a storm in one of the other bays, and the nurse who took his vitals didn’t seem at all surprised to hear who stabbed him.

After a much shorter wait than he’d ever experienced in civilian life, the doctor ordered imaging to make sure there were no foreign bodies in the wound and no damage to the muscles or nerves in Matt’s leg. To his embarrassment, they insisted on wheeling him back to the CT suite in his bed, not even letting him move over to a wheelchair.

“It’s just a cut on my leg,” he protested. “Is this really necessary?”

“Doctor says yes,” the orderly answered, carefully steering the bed around a corner.

As he expected, the x-rays and CT scan both came back clear. A med student stitched up his cut, and the attending came in to break the news that he needed to take the next shift off from work. It all seemed like overkill to Matt, but the doctor explained that stitches so close to the knee could easily get ripped out. He could walk around without worrying, but he wasn’t allowed to run, climb, or submerge his leg in water until the skin started to heal.

Just as he was getting ready to leave, a nurse stuck her head around the curtain. “You have a visitor.”

Raising his eyebrows, Matt shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ve got the wrong bay. I’m Matt Casey.”

“Hi, Matt,” came a familiar voice from behind the curtain.

“Severide?” Matt laughed, hopping down from the bed hard enough to make the nurse glare.

“Yep, it’s me,” Kelly answered, pulling the curtain fully open.

“Hey,” Matt greeted him, a grin stretching across his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Darden called me,” Kelly explained. “I grabbed Heather’s hospital bag from their apartment – I guess she was out to brunch with her friends when her water broke. And Andy mentioned you got stabbed by some crazy lady on a call.”

“Yeah,” Matt confirmed, gesturing to the wound visible beneath the rip in his pants.

Kelly took a closer look. “Oh, that’s gonna be a sexy scar. Sorry, if I’d thought about it, I would’ve brought you a pair of jeans.”

Matt shrugged. “It’s no big deal. At least you can’t really see the bloodstain on black pants. Have you heard how Heather’s doing?”

“She’s doing good. The baby was born about half an hour after Andy got here. Little guy must have been in a hurry.”

“Hey, that’s great,” Matt grinned. “And he’s doing okay? Darden was freaking out that he was early.”

Kelly shrugged. “Sounds like it. He said if we want to hang around for an hour or so, we can go up and meet him. But if you’d rather just go home, I can drop you off and come back later.”

Matt stared at him for a few seconds. “Uh, sure, I’ll come up and visit. But you don’t have to drive me home. I was going to just take a cab back to the firehouse to get my truck.”

“I’ll drop you off there, then,” Kelly decided.

Matt thought about arguing with him, but it would be a waste of breath. At least he wouldn’t have to pay for a cab. “Thanks.”

Kelly stood off to the side while the nurse reviewed Matt’s discharge orders, but that only lasted so long. When Matt went to leave, Kelly held out his arm to stop him.

“Hey, is he supposed to use a wheelchair to leave here?”

Matt glared at him. “I’m fine, Severide.”

Ignoring him, Kelly looked expectantly at the nurse, who smiled and shook her head. “No racing him to the car, but he’s fine.”

That didn’t stop Severide from keeping a hand on Matt’s shoulder while they walked to the elevator. Matt rolled his eyes, but the display of concern warmed his heart. Being cared about felt nice, even when it wasn’t necessary.

“Damn, it feels like it’s been forever since we had a chance to catch up,” Kelly commented once the elevator doors closed.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed, putting his hands in his pockets. “These past few months have been crazy.”

“You been seeing anyone?”

Matt tipped his head, pretending to be confused. “Like a psychiatrist, or…?”

Kelly snorted. “I was thinking more like a woman, but whatever makes you happy, buddy.”

Matt shrugged, shaking his head. “Nah. I hooked up with Claire — the girl I met on our last night out — a couple more times, but we didn’t really hit it off outside the bedroom.”

“Try the shower next time,” Kelly suggested. “And now that I don’t have roommates, I’m a pretty big fan of the kitchen.”

Laughing, Matt shook his head. Leave it to Severide. “I’ve never seen the appeal in kitchen sex. Your choices are basically a hard counter or a hard table.”

“It’s all about knowing how to use them,” Kelly said smugly.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”

Kelly grinned, amused as ever by his own thoughts. “I’ll show you sometime.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

He cringed a little when his words reached his ears.

‘Gee, thanks.’ Really? Who am I, Goober Pyle?

Kelly’s grin only widened, however, and Matt watched with strange fascination as he licked his lips.

I’m staring. Why am I staring? Why is he licking his lips again–?

The elevator beeped as it reached their floor, and the doors slid open. Still smiling – and with the tip of his tongue still sticking out between his teeth – Kelly squeezed Matt’s shoulder. They walked up to the desk outside the elevator and signed in as visitors, then went to take a seat. Kelly kept his hand on Matt’s shoulder throughout the entire check-in process, only letting go when they sat down.

“Should we have brought gifts?” Matt asked, trying to move on from whatever happened to his brain at the sight of Kelly’s tongue.

Kelly frowned. “I don’t think so. We gave them baby shower gifts. Anything we brought to the hospital would just be more shit to haul back to their apartment.”

“I mean, like… flowers or something, for Heather. They sell them in the gift shop.”

“Why?” Kelly asked. “She didn’t have

our

baby.”

Matt choked, his face heating in a way that meant it must be turning beet red. Although he wanted to believe his reaction was to the idea of having a baby with Darden’s wife, it was the words

“our baby”

from Kelly’s mouth that really got him.

He doesn’t mean it that way, Matt,

he reminded himself.

Grinning even more widely than before, Severide slapped him on the back. “Don’t forget how to breathe, buddy.”

Matt exhaled slowly, releasing a breathy laugh. “I’m fine. I just… am really glad that’s Andy’s baby.”

Kelly raised his eyebrows, but he folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair. “You and me both.”

The proud father they were discussing came around the corner a few minutes later, wearing the biggest smile Matt had ever seen. Getting to their feet, they each gave him a congratulatory hug.

“Congrats, buddy – or should I say, ‘daddy’?” Kelly teased.

Andy wrinkled his nose. “You should not.”

“How are Heather and the baby doing?” Matt asked.

“They’re perfect,” Andy said brightly. “Heather’s finally sleeping, so I’ll just take you to see the baby in the nursery. He’s so damn cute. And you can tell Curby his head is almost perfectly round.”

“I’m sure that was a relief,” Matt commented. “Have you guys settled on a name yet?”

Darden shot Severide an accusing look. “You didn’t tell him?”

Kelly smirked, putting his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Oops. Completely slipped my mind.”

Andy sighed. “You’re a terrible friend, Severide. Hope you know that.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Keep that in mind next time you need someone to drive across town to drop off a bag.”

Matt laughed awkwardly, tipping his head. “So… What’s the name?”

Raising his eyebrows, Kelly gave Andy a pointed look. “Yeah, Darden, tell him the name.”

“Fuck you,” Darden answered, then turned to Matt. “So, Heather has always really, really wanted to name a son after her granddad.”

Matt nodded slowly, more than confused. “That’s sweet?”

“Griffin,” Kelly said, far too loudly for a hospital waiting room. “They named the baby after Heather’s grandfather, Griffin.”

“Oh,” Matt said, blinking with surprise. “Yeah, that’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Sorry,” Andy cringed. “I did try to talk her out of it, but it’s really important to her.”

Matt shook his head. “No, man, it’s really no big deal. Isn’t like you named him

after

Ted Griffin. I’m sure once I spend some time with Baby Griffin, I won’t even think about it.”

“Thanks,” Andy smiled, while Kelly tightly squeezed the back of Matt’s neck. “Okay… Well, you guys ready to meet my kid?”

“Hell yeah, we are.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After a brief visit with baby Griffin, Kelly drove Matt back to Firehouse 51. He knew he was being a little bit over-the-top, showing up at the ER and then driving him home, but Casey needed

someone

to look after him.

His family was out of the picture, and from what little he’d shared with Kelly and Andy, it didn’t sound like he got much nurturing even before things fell apart. The blonde was fiercely independent, and more than capable of taking care of himself – but he deserved to be cared for sometimes, too. Even if that just meant saving him a few bucks on a cab.

“Thanks again,” Matt said casually while they got in the car.

Kelly glanced over at his wounded leg. “Lift the handle under the front of the seat to slide it back.”

Matt moved his seat as far back as it would go, which wasn’t very far. Kelly felt a little bit guilty – maybe he would have been more comfortable in a cab.

“So, the baby’s really cute,” Matt said brightly.

Nodding, Kelly turned to look behind the car while he backed out of the parking spot. “Yeah, he is. What do you really think about the name?”

He caught a glimpse of Matt’s smirk in the corner of his eye.

“Do you figure they’ll name the next one Adolf?”

“Osama, maybe,” Kelly grinned.

They spent the next few minutes coming up with ridiculous baby names, listing as many serial killers, mass murders, and dictators as they could think of. Matt’s infectious laughter filled the car, making Kelly realize just how much he’d missed him these past few months.

Although they’d been friends for less than a year, he got used to spending twelve hours a day together at the academy. Nobody would ever replace Andy as his lifelong best friend, but Matt made him feel

better,

somehow. More hopeful. The cares of the world seemed to fade into the background when the blonde was around.

As Matt got out of the car, he reached over and squeezed Kelly’s wrist, sending a current of electricity up his arm. “Hey, I know you were at the hospital anyway, but thanks again.”

Kelly nodded dumbly, managing a smile. “Yeah. Uh, anytime.”

Matt winked at him before he shut the door, sending Kelly’s wildly-spinning mind into freefall.

He’s just mirroring the way I’ve been flirting with him,

he sternly reminded himself.

He doesn’t realize how real it is, and he never can.

That

would be a disaster.

“Damn it, Severide,” he muttered, watching Matt get in and start his truck.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, wishing he could purge the unwanted feelings that arose each and every time he saw the guy. It would ruin their friendship, and possibly his career. Nobody wanted to share a bunk room with a gay man – that was the whole reason he stopped dating guys after high school. Firefighting was his dream, and he wasn’t about to let these twisted feelings screw it up.

Crushes suck.

Darden warned him about this, back on their first day at the Fire Academy. Kelly brushed him off at the time, confident that it wouldn’t be a problem. He knew, even then, that he was attracted to Matt – but frankly, Kelly was attracted to a lot of people. If he declined to be friends with everyone he’d daydreamed about hooking up with, that would leave him with… well, Darden.

What he didn’t realize at the time was that Matt Casey was more than just a pretty face with a nice ass at the other end. Crushes on cute blondes came and went, but no matter how hard he tried to shake this one, it only got worse.

He thought it would get better once they were at different firehouses and not seeing each other every day, but he’d never been that lucky. Instead of catching himself staring at Casey’s ass during PT, he found himself mentally replaying their past conversations while he did grunt work at 36, sometimes with a sappy smile on his face. It was embarrassing as hell to admit even to himself, but Kelly had it

bad

for his new friend.

Like Andy told him at the start, the situation could only end in disaster – a broken heart would be the least of his worries. But it was a problem he couldn’t quite bring himself to solve.

Sure, crushes sucked – but they could also feel pretty damn good.

“Ay, ay, ay,”

Matt muttered to himself, turning his key in the ignition.

It had been a weird day, from start to finish. Not a bad one, by any means. Getting stabbed in the leg was a low point, for sure, but he still made the save and ended up with a cool scar. Or, as Severide put it, a

sexy

scar.

The weirdest moment of the day, by far, was while he watched Kelly hold baby Griffin for the first time. Despite not being a “kid person,” he was visibly awestruck by his best friend’s newborn. His vivid blue eyes focused completely on the baby in his arms, and when he smiled, the tip of his tongue stuck out

again.

(What was happening with his tongue today?)

Watching them, Matt felt a familiar longing. Glad as he was not to be in Darden’s shoes, having a kid during their probationary year… Deep down, he wanted what Andy had — a family — more than anything in the world. Someone he could love without reservation, who would be there for him no matter what. He’d dreamed of being a husband and father since he was a toddler. But… strangely, this longing felt like something more than that.

Then, Kelly looked up to meet his eyes, his face still soft with joy. Smiling so hard his eyes practically disappeared, he pointed to the baby as if to say,

“check this out.”

In that moment, realization hit Matt like a bolt of lightning: He had a crush on Kelly Severide.

His stupid, traitorous face reddened on the spot, but neither of his friends seemed to notice. Matt pushed that train of thought aside, eagerly claiming his turn with the baby. He managed not to think about it until he got out of the car at the firehouse, but in the privacy of his own truck, it hit him again, this time more like a freight train than lightning.

This can’t be happening.

He’d been attracted to ‘Candidate Severide’ from day one, but so was everybody else. He didn’t think it was anything more than that. It

couldn’t

be.

Today just reinforced what he already knew – he wanted a family of his own above all else. If he was gay, it might be a different story, but he was lucky enough to be attracted to women, too. That gave him the privilege of choosing, and he made that choice long ago. He wanted marriage, kids – the opportunity to build the kind of home he never had growing up. And that required a wife. Some men lived together and shared custody with their ex-wives, but that was hardly something to aspire to. His heart longed for a real family, and he could never have that with a man.

Anyway, Kelly had no interest in settling down. If this crush turned into anything, it would be a fling. It was different when Matt was younger, just working construction and biding his time. But now that he was getting settled in his career, the stakes were higher. It was time to focus on the future, not have his head turned by a crush.

That didn’t stop him from watching Kelly in his rearview mirror, waiting for his friend to drive away before he pulled out. It took almost a minute for him to realize Kelly was waiting, too. They were

way

too much alike, sometimes.

“Fine, you win,” he whispered, shifting his truck into drive. If they had a staring contest over who was going to drive away first, he would be a skeleton in his seat before Severide blinked.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking one last look at Kelly in his rearview mirror while he drove away.

Matt didn’t run into Severide again until the Sunday before Christmas. The Dardens invited them to attend Baby Griffin’s dedication service at Heather’s family’s church. The way Andy explained it, that was ‘basically like a baptism without any water’… but Matt suspected something was probably lost in translation there.

Conscious that the oversized suit he picked up at a thrift store a couple years back wasn’t exactly in style, Matt bought a new one for the occasion. He went with a classic black, knowing he would reuse it for events for years to come, but chose a jacket with a fitted silhouette that made his waist look bigger. (He

definitely

wasn’t showing off for Severide – not at all.)

As soon as he arrived, Andy handed him the baby and made a beeline for the bathroom, where he urgently needed to wash

something

off his face. Kelly, who came in right behind him, laughed at Andy as he walked away.

“Hey, Baby Griffin,” Matt cooed, grinning down at the wide-eyed baby in his arms. “God, he’s so lanky. Like a little old man.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘god’ here,” Kelly advised him.

Matt shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t supporting Griffin. “It’s His house. I was talking to Him. Butt out.”

“Oh, alright,” Kelly laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Matt said in a baby voice, addressing Griffin. “We’re gonna make sure you learn to say ‘butt out’ before you start preschool.”

“I’m sure that won’t be the worst of it,” Heather sighed, coming up behind Kelly with a jumbo-sized diaper bag over her arm. “Thanks for coming, guys. Andy explained that Baptists don’t officially do godparents as part of the church service, right? That’s just a thing between us.”

“Fine by me,” Kelly declared, giving her a one-armed hug. “I’m better suited to teaching Baby Griffin about ‘The Family’ than being an example of religious faith.”

“Are you both going to call him ‘Baby Griffin’ forever?” Andy asked, coming back from the bathroom.

“Only if he’s in diapers until he’s 18,” Matt shot back.

“Thanks for watching him,” Andy said gratefully, reaching to take the baby from his arms.

“Do you wanna go back to daddy?” Matt asked Griffin, holding him up to his ear as if waiting for an answer. “Hmm… I don’t hear you saying yes.”

“You are

so

lucky he didn’t just spit up on your suit,” Andy informed him.

Chuckling, Matt returned the baby to his father. A piano started playing hymns, cueing them to take their seats.

“You three behave,” Heather warned them. “I won’t hear the end of it from my parents if they feel embarrassed today.”

“We’ll be good, Mom,” Kelly promised, while Matt and Andy nodded.

She narrowed her eyes. “You better.”

After the church service and the dinner that followed, Kelly pulled Matt aside. “What are you doing for Christmas this year?”

Matt shrugged. “I’m not on shift until the morning of the 26th, so I figure I’ll do what I always do… Cook myself a nice meal and read a good book.”

“How attached are you to that plan?” Kelly asked.

Matt shrugged. “I never cared much about holidays. If you feel bad that I don’t have a family to hang out with, don’t. I’m fine.”

Kelly nodded slowly. “Good. Look, I don’t feel bad for you – I promise. You’ve met my dad, so… you know how that can be. Spending a holiday alone sounds kind of nice compared to some I’ve had.”

Matt chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“So knowing that, you’ll probably want to say no to this,” Kelly prefaced his invitation. “But I get off shift at 8 AM on Christmas morning. My mom and I are planning to meet at a diner for lunch. It’s going to be awkward as fuck, and I don’t really want to go, but she’s my mom. With all that in mind… Would you maybe want to come to lunch with us and hang out after?”

“You’re going to regret this when I take you to meet my mom as payback,” Matt warned him. “But okay. As long as we can get plastered afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Lunch with Kelly’s mother turned out to be far more pleasant than dinner with his dad. Her distaste for firefighting in general and her ex-husband in particular were both painfully clear, but she didn’t go out of her way to belittle or embarrass her son. Like Benny, however, she mostly talked about herself. Something else Matt and Kelly had in common – parents who were far more interested in their own lives than their kids’.

That suited Matt just fine. He would much rather hear about Jennifer’s AA group and her dream of opening a bakery than discuss her opinion about her son’s career choice or why he wasn’t spending Christmas with his family.

“She doesn’t even bake,” Kelly informed him after they left. “Why do you think we meet at a diner for Christmas dinner?”

Chuckling, Matt patted him on the back. His mom was kind of the queen of pretending to be Mom of the Year, even behind bars – but he didn’t want to one-up his friend by bringing that up.

“I’ve got a bottle of rum at home, if that makes you feel any better.”

Kelly waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, it does. It definitely does.”

In reality, Matt had more than just rum in his liquor cabinet. He always made sure he was fully stocked for the holidays, and knowing he’d be hanging out with Severide this year, he went all out. He spent a couple hundred dollars at the liquor store, considering it his Christmas present to himself.

Since they met at the diner, they drove separately back to Matt’s apartment. With the roads clear of both snow and traffic, the drive was quicker than it had ever been.

Back at his apartment, he poured them each a glass of rum while Kelly plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. “Hey, sports or Christmas movies?”

“Do you care?” Matt asked.

“You want ESPN, right?” Kelly answered, that channel already playing in the background.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Matt confirmed.

Once they settled in and started drinking, the TV was just background noise anyway. Kelly was in the mood to vent about his parents, and Matt was happy to commiserate. He didn’t share many stories of his own, cognizant that it could come across as one-upping, but he could relate to some of the common themes.

They each had at least one alcoholic parent (Kelly’s mom and Matt’s dad), and both sets of parents held their kids responsible for the problems in their marriage. Greg Casey was never as physically aggressive as Benny Severide, but it sounded like they had similar opinions of their sons.

“He never thought I could cut it as a firefighter, and he still doesn’t,” Kelly disclosed, staring down at his empty glass.

“But you are,” Matt reminded him, pouring him some more rum. “You’re proving every day that you can do this job, and you’re going to do it better than he ever did.”

Kelly nodded slowly, then nearly drained the glass before speaking again. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Matt playfully nudged his knee. “C’mon, buddy. You

know

you are. The people whose family members you help save don’t care if your dad thinks you’re cut out for the job.”

Kelly forced a smile. “Thanks.”

“Why do you think he has such a low opinion of you?” Matt gently pressed. He had his suspicions, but they still hadn’t actually addressed that subject head on.

Biting his lip, Kelly shrugged. “I dunno.”

Matt took another drink. Emboldened by alcohol and the desire to stop talking in circles, he decided to lay his cards on the table. He just hoped it didn’t freak Kelly out.

“At your birthday party, I overheard some of your high school friends talking about your ex-boyfriend.” Seeing Kelly’s eyes widen, Matt hurriedly continued, “Don’t worry. I have a couple of those, too.”

He was pleased to see Kelly’s surprise at that news. He’d been trying to hide his sexuality, but based on all the flirting, he thought Kelly saw right through it. Apparently… not so much.

“Really?”

Smirking in a way he hoped hid his own nerves, Matt refilled his friend’s glass. “Yeah, really.”

Kelly was silent for a minute, then cautiously said, “I’m sorry if it seems like I was trying to keep it a secret from you.”

Matt scoffed. “Not at all. I didn’t say anything either. For about the same reasons, I figure.”

Kelly nodded. “It’s hard enough, starting out in the CFD and building a reputation for myself. I knew I couldn’t keep it completely secret, since I was out in high school, but I’ve tried to just – just leave it in the past, I guess.”

“It’s not easy,” Matt commiserated.

Especially when you’re around.

The scent of cologne he noticed earlier was somehow still going strong, and the hint of sweat on Kelly’s collarbone made his skin seem to glisten when he moved. Matt barely dared to breathe, painfully aware that he was getting hard.

Kelly slowly exhaled. “No kidding.”

Matt bit his lip, staring down at the floor. He could –

should

– let the subject drop there… but he and his third glass of rum didn’t really want to let it go.

“I’ve always counted myself lucky because I’m attracted to women, too. But I’ve never met one I connect with emotionally as much as…” He wanted to say ‘Tyler,’ but suddenly, the word ‘you’ came to mind – and then he heard himself

saying it?!

No more rum for me, ever.

When he forced himself to look up, Kelly was smirking at him. “I like you, too,” he said.

Matt would have blushed, but he didn’t think it was physically possible for his face to get any redder than it already was. He had no idea what to say or do. Gulping, he just nodded.

“So,” Kelly drawled, putting his half-full glass on the table. “Are we going to do something about it, or is this just a confessional?”

“I’m not Catholic,” Matt reminded him, eyeing the empty bottle.

I need more of that.

“And I’m not a priest,” Kelly said flippantly, watching from the couch while Matt went to get another bottle from the liquor cabinet.

He didn’t have any more rum, so he chose a bottle of champagne instead. He didn’t bother to look for the proper glasses – this was an occasion that called for drinking directly from the bottle.

His hands shook while he uncorked the champagne, allowing him to delay his answer a few seconds longer. He had no fucking idea what he was going to say, so he took a long swig from the bottle before passing it to his friend.

Kelly put the bottle on the coffee table without taking a sip, then slowly got to his feet. “Matt…”

Wiping his face with his hands, Matt leaned back against the wall. “I’m sorry. I don’t know…”

“Hey,” Kelly said gently. He crossed the space between them and took Matt’s hands from his face, holding them tightly in his own. “I don’t have the answers either. It’s okay.”

For a brief moment, Matt was overwhelmed by the instinct to pull away… but then he realized how much he didn’t want that.

“Can I kiss you?” he heard himself asking. The thought had barely occurred to his conscious mind, but…

sure, let’s go with that.

Still holding his hands, Kelly nodded. And before Matt knew it – he never was quite sure who actually kissed who – it was

happening.

Kelly’s lips pressed up against his, and fingers gripped the back of his head, cushioning it against the wall. Kelly tasted like licorice, not at all what Matt expected (because yes, although he would never admit it, he’d thought about what Kelly might taste like). But that was the rum, of course.

It was all the rum. Or was it?

Less thinking, more kissing.

That seemed to be Kelly’s philosophy, at least. Taking a break from exploring Matt’s mouth (and giving him a chance to catch his breath), Kelly began kissing the corner of his lips, then slowly made his way across his jawline toward his ear.

That

soon took his breath away too, leaving him almost a dead weight between Kelly and the wall. All the blood from his legs seemed to be flowing to his cock, and he was lucky Kelly was holding him up.

Severide was hard, too. He didn’t deliberately grind his cock against Matt’s leg, but it was impossible to miss. Matt tried not to let himself be distracted, focusing instead on the soft lips against his skin and the strong hands holding onto his hips. But each time the bulge in Kelly’s pants brushed against his thigh, his own need grew more urgent.

In apparent agreement, Kelly slipped his fingers through the belt loops of Matt’s jeans, pulling his hips forward until their erections roughly lined up. His mouth found its way back to Matt’s, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Matt moaned into Kelly’s mouth, just as Kelly brushed the tip of his thumb across the fabric containing his erection.

Damn, that felt good.

More than anything, he wanted to throw caution to the wind, push this as far as it could go… but this was one of his best friends, and they would be in the CFD together for decades to come. He had to be responsible about this.

“Wait,” Matt forced himself to say, clumsily resting his hands over Kelly’s to stop him. “I – We can’t.”

Kelly froze, his hands still holding onto Matt’s hips, and slowly nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, taking a step back without letting go.

And god, Matt didn’t want him to let go.

Closing his eyes, Matt tried to explain. “I – I really like you. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t,” Kelly interrupted, letting go of Matt’s hips but taking his hands. “Hey. Case. Look at me.”

Matt opened his eyes and saw that Kelly was smiling, not a hint of anger or disappointment in his gaze. His sweat-soaked black hair was sticking to his forehead, and his face was flushed with inebriation, or maybe a little bit of something else.

“You don’t have to explain,” Kelly assured him, still holding onto Matt’s hands. “I understand. And you’re right. What we have – the job, and our friendship… we can’t blow that up.”

Flooded with relief, Matt sagged against the wall. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Kelly let go of his hands, and Matt shoved them in his pockets before they could get cold.

“I like you, Matt,” Kelly said frankly, no longer looking him in the eye. “But – I promise, if you’re willing, we can still be friends. With any luck, we won’t remember this tomorrow anyway.”

Forcing a grin, Matt tapped his knuckles against the side of his head. “I’m feeling lucky.”

Nodding, Kelly turned and began looking for his keys. “I should go home.”

Matt grabbed his arm more roughly than he intended, but he was drunker than he intended, too. “You can’t drive. And you don’t need to pay for a cab on Christmas. Crash on my couch tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Kelly asked, raising his eyebrows.

Matt nodded. “Yeah. Let me just… go get you a blanket.”

Kelly looked down at the hand still holding onto his arm. “Okay…?”

Cringing, Matt let go. “Sorry.”

It was Kelly’s turn to catch his arm as he turned away. “Hey.”

The room was spinning more than Matt expected, but he managed to stay upright. “Y–Yeah?”

Kelly pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, then let him go and stepped away. “Merry Christmas, Matt.”

Matt woke to the sound of a truck backfiring in the street and early morning light pouring in through his curtains. Groaning, he rolled over and squinted at his alarm clock.

6:13 – two minutes before the alarm would have gone off.

What a great start to the day.

His brain pulsated inside his skull, and it felt like he’d slept with a mouth full of cotton swabs. His body was screaming for water, but that meant walking into the kitchen – which meant walking past Severide.

Oh, yeah – he remembered. If he’d

really

wanted to forget, he would’ve kept drinking after Kelly crashed, ensuring a total black-out. But… he didn’t. What happened that night was a drunken mistake, but not one he wanted to forget. If he could only taste Kelly Severide’s lips one time in his life, it was a memory he would lock away and treasure.

After gathering his courage and straightening his hair, he opened his bedroom door. He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed when he found the living room empty. Aside from the blanket folded neatly on the couch and the two empty glasses drying by the sink, there was no sign Kelly was ever there.

Sighing, Matt poured himself a glass of water and carried it with him to the bathroom. Knowing Severide, he probably decided to combat his hangover by going for an early morning run. And knowing

both

of them, realistically, they would probably never talk about last night again. They would pretend not to remember, and after a week or two of awkwardness (during which they might not even see each other, considering their schedules), everything would go back to normal.

That was exactly what he wanted, he reminded himself, watching his mirror image gargle water before brushing his teeth. They

couldn’t

be together – not if they cared about having families and careers. Last night couldn’t be anything more than a happy memory, but he had no regrets. Sometimes you had to grab a moment of happiness when you could.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lunch with Scott and Logan Rice was just what Kelly needed to take his mind off his problems. Logan practically scrambled up Kelly’s leg as soon as Rice let him out of the car, eagerly demanding the activity he called “spinnies.” After glancing at both Rice and Clarke to make sure it was okay and ensuring the 5-year-old’s feet wouldn’t kick out any windows, Kelly obliged. “Okay, that’s enough,” Rice announced after three spins. “I don’t want him throwing up his lunch.” Kelly obediently stopped spinning, but Logan rejected his attempt to return him to the ground. Gripping the sleeve of Kelly’s (well, Jeff’s) sweatshirt, the little boy insisted on being hoisted to his shoulders for the walk to the door. Kelly tried to listen to Rice and Clarke’s conversation, but his ears were filled with chatter about Logan’s current obsession: dinosaurs. “I think I want to be a Stegosaurus for Halloween, but I thought about maybe being a Pterodactyl. They have really big wings. But wings aren’t that cool if you can’t really fly.” Kelly nodded in agreement, impressed that a kid who could barely write his own name could pronounce ‘stegosaurus’ and ‘pterodactyl’ so accurately. “What were you for Halloween when you were five?” Logan asked. “Uh, I think I was a firefighter that year,” Kelly answered. He didn’t actually remember, but it was a pretty safe bet. “I like firemen, but I want to be a pilot,” Logan announced. “For Halloween?” Kelly asked. Logan giggled. “No. I’m gonna be a Stegosaurus or a Pterodactyl for Halloween. I want to be a pilot for when I grow up.” Kelly chuckled. “Oh, right. That sounds pretty cool.” Scott plucked his son from Kelly’s shoulders at the door, insisting that he “walk like a big boy.” That didn’t stop Logan from clutching Kelly’s hand while they walked to their table, but in the kid’s defense, Kelly could think of two other “big boys” who liked to hold his hand, too. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many families here,” Kelly observed. “It’s Mother’s Day,” Jeff murmured in his ear, trying not to let Logan overhear. “Oh,” Kelly said lamely. “That wasn’t even on my radar this year. Guess it’s a good thing we made a reservation.” He’d have to text his mom after lunch. He was usually more on top of things like that, but he’d spent the past couple weeks in such a bubble, it was lucky he even knew what month it was. “Well, I appreciate the distraction,” Scott said earnestly, clapping Kelly on the shoulder before taking the seat at his son’s other side. As Kelly hoped, Logan was the center of attention while they waited for the teppanyaki chef. He kept the three men entertained with trivia about dinosaurs, rattling off names Kelly couldn’t begin to figure out how to spell. “Have you ever thought about being someone who studies dinosaurs when you grow up?” Kelly asked. Logan emphatically shook his head. “Only if I can bring them back to life.” “Pilots are cool, too,” Kelly backtracked, while Clarke and Rice snickered. “I like being a firefighter, but I think flying planes would be really fun.” “Daddy doesn’t like being a fireman anymore,” Logan announced. Kelly avoided looking at Scott. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah,” Logan confirmed. “He said he wants a new job where he can be home with me every night.” Ignoring his twinge of sadness, Kelly smiled. “That would be pretty cool, huh?” Logan shrugged. “If Grandma still cooks dinner.” Grinning, Kelly raised his eyebrows at Rice, who rolled his eyes in response. “I can cook, for the record. He doesn’t think I microwave chicken nuggets the right way.” “You should ask Grandma for help,” Logan answered. “She doesn’t make them soggy on the bottom like yours.” “So your next job probably isn’t going to be as a cook, then,” Clarke observed, nodding toward the chef now approaching their table. “Probably not,” Rice acknowledged with a smile. After the teppanyaki show, the conversation shifted to a more serious discussion about Rice’s career prospects. Even though Logan already knew his dad was finished as a firefighter, Kelly tried to tread lightly. He didn’t want to give the kid the impression that his father did something wrong. To Kelly’s surprise, Jeff gave Scott some solid advice about picking a new career. Although his path from running rescue and recovery missions in the Marines to running a rescue squad in Chicago was fairly straightforward, he knew a lot of vets who had a harder time. “Don’t forget, you have options in the CFD too, if you want them,” Kelly cut in before his boyfriend could get too enthusiastic about trade schools. “You’ve always been good at the mechanical stuff, so if you wanted to go to fleet maintenance or the equipment depot, I’m sure Boden could swing that. It would be a pay cut, but you’d be working regular 40-hour weeks and keep all your benefits.” Kelly knew Rice well enough to catch the hopeful glint in his eyes before he could hide it. “I think I’d really like something like that… but I know there aren’t many of those positions, and I don’t have much credit with the department.” 
That tends to happen when you throw someone out a window on one call and leave your crew to die on another.
Keeping that thought to himself, Kelly shrugged. “It might take a few weeks, and it might not be in this district, but it won’t kill you to ride a desk until then.” Scott nodded curtly. “Thanks, Lieutenant.” Logan’s head popped up at the hint of tension, and Kelly consciously lightened his tone. “We’re family. Everyone needs a good mechanic in the family.” “If you do stay in our district, we’ll expect Squad 3 to always be bumped to the front of the line for maintenance,” Jeff teased. “Deal.” After lunch, they walked to a park near the restaurant. Although Kelly was the one to promise Logan they would play together, Jeff ended up helping the 5-year-old take on the climbing net while Kelly and Scott plopped down in the grass. “He’ll have your little pilot enlisted in the Marines if you don’t watch out,” Kelly commented. Rice smiled ruefully, picking at the grass at his side. “I’m lucky to have friends my kid can look up to… but I gotta be honest, I kind of hope he grows up to be an accountant or something.” Kelly chuckled. “Paleontology is pretty safe.” “Unless he goes all mad scientist and gets himself eaten by a Gigantoraptor.” “Gigantoraptor?” Kelly echoed. “That’s gotta be made up.” “No, it’s real, but don’t quiz me on the details. I read the books he picks out at the library, but I try not to let them take up too much space in my brain.” Leaning back on his hands, Kelly watched his boyfriend coach Logan through what to do when he reached the top of the net. For someone who claimed to be uncomfortable around kids, Jeff was a pretty good teacher. “Are you guys together?” Rice asked. For just a second, Kelly froze… but then he exhaled, relaxing. Of course Rice didn’t forget that Kelly dated boys in high school – he was just polite enough not to mention it to anyone at work. But Jeff was out of the closet, and he and Kelly were practically glued at the hip when they weren’t on shift – not to mention, Kelly brought him to dinner instead of a date. It wasn’t a huge leap. “Yeah,” he answered truthfully, still watching Jeff. “We are.” Rice grinned. “I thought so, but I was afraid to ask. But hey, you’re not my boss anymore…” Kelly chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m in kind of a weird place with it at work. I’m not quite ready to make an announcement to everyone, but I don’t really care if they find out. I’m not ashamed of who I love, I just don’t want any unnecessary drama.” There were a hundred ways this disclosure could bite him in the ass, but at the moment, he didn’t care. It wasn’t that he wanted recognition for his relationship, so much as he was tired of keeping it a secret. Keeping two relationships under wraps was an exhausting amount of work, and for what? So intolerant people wouldn’t be uncomfortable? He understood Matt’s point of view, but Matt didn’t get to make every decision unilaterally. “Well, congratulations,” Rice said warmly. “Clarke seems like a great guy. He helped me a lot with figuring out how to hold down the fort while you were out.” “I’m also dating Lt. Casey,” Kelly announced without taking his eyes off of Jeff and Logan. Rice coughed, choking on his own saliva. Rolling his eyes, Kelly gave him a few seconds to compose himself. “Really?” he finally managed. Kelly nodded. Hoping he didn’t sound too defensive, he explained, “We know it’s not the norm. But it’s completely consensual, and I love them both. Don’t worry though, we won’t tell Logan about it or anything. I know that’s a lot to try to explain to a kid.” Rice shook his head. “No, Lieutenant –” “Kelly,” Kelly suggested. “Not your boss, remember?” Rice sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, okay. Uh, Kelly… no, I’m not judging you. I get open relationships. I mean, it’s not for me, but I respect it. You love more than one person. It’s not hard to explain.” “Okay…?” Kelly raised his eyebrow. “It’s just… Casey?”  “We live together, man,” Kelly pointed out. He’d never gotten this reaction before – most people figured it out before he told them. “Yeah, but…” Rice paused, shaking his head. “You know, actually… It was a surprise, but I can see it. You and Casey are a lot alike, and he’s kinda cute.” “But…?” Kelly probed, knowing he shouldn’t. Rice grunted, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m sure he’s different with you. I really fucked things up at work – he has no reason to like me.” “He can be a dick sometimes,” Kelly acknowledged, filling in the blanks. “But so can I. So I guess we’re well-suited to each other that way.” Rice shrugged. “In my experience, your bark is worse than your bite. You look out for people, even when you’re pissed at them – rightfully so. I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help me and Logan. I could’ve got you killed, and you’re getting me back on my feet.” Kelly didn’t have a good answer for that at first. But sitting in the grass watching his “disinterested in kids” boyfriend hover over a 5-year-old who was entirely capable of getting himself down a slide, the memory of his own time of need lapped over him like a gentle wave. “I know what it’s like when the hole you dug yourself collapses in on you,” he explained. “After Darden died and Shay got hurt, my grief and guilt were suffocating. But Casey and Clarke — and Dawson and Shay — they helped me, whether I deserved their help or their forgiveness or not. You — You deserve that, too.” Rice smiled. “You’re getting soft, Kelly.” The sound of Logan’s giggles filling his ears, Kelly simply shrugged. “Yeah, I am. Lucky for you.” Despite the exhaustion in his bones and the weight on his heart, Matt managed to rally by the time he arrived for his check-in with Antonio Dawson. His day at the Pier with Katya would be his first official act as a CI, but he refused to wear a wire during their conversation. She was a victim, not a criminal, and he wouldn’t betray her trust. If Voight didn’t like it, he could blackmail someone else into being his CI. “So, how’ve you been doing the past couple days?” Dawson asked as they were getting ready to leave. Matt shrugged. He wasn’t about to pour his heart out to the detective, especially when Voight was still threatening to ruin his life. “I’ll be relieved when all this is over, but I’m doing alright.” “I don’t want to offend you, but under the circumstances, I have to ask. Have you had anything to drink today?” It wasn’t even 10:30 in the morning – of course Matt wasn’t drunk. He might have made some mistakes these past few weeks, but he wasn’t that pathetic. Despite his annoyance, though, he refused to react. He was there to get a job done, not to defend his reputation. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m good to go, Detective.” Bumping his fist against Matt’s, Dawson nodded. “You’ve got this.” As promised, Matt picked Katya up several blocks from her neighborhood. Even though they had every right to spend time together outside of the club, she was understandably worried about how Nesbitt might react. Even if he didn’t figure out they were informing on his criminal operation, he was a controlling, jealous man with a hair-trigger temper. According to Antonio, Katya had good reason to be scared. “Hey, how are you doing?” Matt asked as Katya got in the truck. “I’m fine,” she said, far too brightly to be convincing. “Uh, can you…?” She motioned with her hands while glancing over her shoulder, and he got the idea. He pulled out onto the street and drove away, not asking any more questions until her breathing slowed. “Did something happen?” “No,” she denied. “Not really.” Matt wasn’t sure what to do with that. He didn’t want to pressure Katya into opening up before she was ready. If the plan was to interrogate her, Voight wouldn’t need him. But it was time-sensitive. The lives at stake here included hers. And – not that he was selfish enough to prioritize it – the longer it took to wrap up this case, the longer it would be until he could make up with Kelly. That shouldn’t have even been a consideration, and he would be ashamed to admit it… but it was hard to focus on anything else, with that unresolved. “How was your shift? Did you put out any fires?” Katya asked. Wrinkling his nose, Matt drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Uh, it was a good shift. We saved a lady who had a gas leak in her house, got her out just a few seconds before her oven exploded.” “Whoa. That sounds terrifying.” Matt shrugged. “It was intense, I guess. You don’t really have time to feel scared on a call like that. There’s too much to think about. I’m an officer, so I have to know what every person on a call is doing, monitor the conditions, and make all the decisions. Emotion doesn’t play a role there.” “I wish I could turn off fear like that,” Katya said. “Sometimes I feel paralyzed by it. Like the fear is so strong, it’s holding me in place.” “Firefighters get a lot of training about how to overcome that feeling,” he explained. “You – You are really brave, just talking to me about Jack. I know – I don’t know everything, but I know you must be terrified. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re safe. You can trust me.” “I do trust you,” she assured him. The declaration didn’t make him feel nearly as confident as it usually did, but this wasn’t a scene he could control. What he wouldn’t give to be saving Katya from a good old-fashioned fire instead. That, he could handle. This – well, he wasn’t even sure exactly what “this” was. “Did…” He hesitated, realizing he might be pushing too hard. But she was looking at him now, expecting him to ask a question. “Uh, were you able to bring the notebook with you?” Biting her lip, Katya slowly shook her head. “No. Um, I hid it, somewhere safe – Jack and the other men will never find it. But I wasn’t able to get back there this morning to pick it up without being seen. I was going to go last night, but Jack had a special party, showing off the new girls and the new room.” Matt’s stomach lurched, but he clamped down on his thoughts before they could stray too far. “That’s fine,” he said. “Um, how was the party?” Katya gave a short, breathy laugh. “Oh, it was a great time. Lots of liquor, beautiful dancers… you should have been there.” Matt managed something that resembled a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m sorry I missed it.” Their small talk grew more and more awkward over the course of the drive. Matt felt completely in over his head – he wasn’t a detective, or a therapist, or even a particularly good conversationalist unless dark humor was what you were after. People usually opened up to him with no prompting, spilling their life stories at his feet. He didn’t know how to convince Katya to talk before she was ready, especially when it put both her safety and her livelihood at risk. The cost of parking near Navy Pier was enough to give him heartburn, but he didn’t want to ask Katya to walk far. She was definitely the “skittish” one now, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. “Hey,” he said gently once they were out of the truck. “Jack told me I could date ‘the girls,’ remember? I know you’re scared, but there’s nothing wrong with two people going on a date. So… let’s make sure anyone who does see us thinks this is a date. Just like dinner the other night. Okay?” Nodding, she pasted on a smile. “Okay. That, I can do.” It had been a long time since Matt visited Navy Pier during the day. He tended to avoid the touristy parts of Chicago, especially on the weekend, so he hadn’t been there since Griffin and Ben left town. Under other circumstances, it might be nice to play tourist on a Sunday afternoon, but neither Matt nor Katya was in the mood to enjoy it. Playing along with the pretense of a date, Matt bought snow cones to eat while they walked around. “So…” he carefully began while they stood in line for the Centennial Wheel, “When this is all over – Nesbitt and the people he works with are in prison, and you’re free to do whatever you want with your life… Have you thought about what you want to do next?” Katya scrunched up her face in thought. “Um, I’d like to travel, I guess. Maybe find somewhere warmer to settle down, somewhere a little slower than Chicago.” “Was your hometown a lot smaller than Chicago?” Katya shrugged. “Sofia is maybe a fourth the size of Chicago, I’m not sure exactly. Most of the cities in Europe are smaller, but they’re closer together. It’s hard to compare.” At least they were talking now, although not about anything useful to Voight. Matt waited until they boarded the Ferris wheel before he tried to steer the conversation in that direction. He was genuinely curious about Bulgaria… or at least, he would be on a good day. Today, his head felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, and he started to feel nauseated as soon as he sat down. “So you know my cop buddies approached me about Nesbitt and his investors,” he said as the ride began to move. “I want to help them – I want to help you. Ideally before Nesbitt figures out something’s up. Do you want to tell me where the notebook is and let me get it, so you don’t have to?” Sighing, Katya shook her head. “No… Where I hid it, you can’t just walk in without a reason. But I work for Jack, so I can have a reason. I’ll go back for it the first chance I get, and then I’ll text you. When is your next day off?” “Well, normally, I work every 3 days, but I have the next couple of shifts off,” Matt explained. “So I’m free every day this week. Text me anytime, and I’ll be right there.” “Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it for today.” “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I don’t want you to risk getting caught. The detectives can wait. I just don’t want you to be stuck in a bad situation for too long.” “Thanks, Matt.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I appreciate that you care so much, but I don’t want you taking too many risks for my sake.” “Jack Nesbitt was a firefighter,” Matt said with disgust. “That code – the promise we make, to each other and to the community – is for life. When one of us breaks that, all of us are responsible for righting that wrong.” When they were nearly at the top of the wheel for the third time, Matt’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He hoped for a moment that it would be a text from Kelly, but instead, it was from Jack Nesbitt. Biting his lip, he entered his password and opened the message. “Is everything okay?” Katya asked. “Um, I’m not sure,” Matt said honestly. “It’s a text from Jack.” Katya froze. “What – What is it? Does he know we’re here?” “No, I don’t think so,” Matt said quickly. “Uh, he wants to know if I’m available to drop by the club tonight. Some of his investors want to have a drink with me.” Katya exhaled, apparently deciding that wasn’t too much of a red flag. “More likely, Jack wants to have a drink with you. He really likes you.” Matt sighed, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, maybe… but the feeling really isn’t mutual.” There went his hopes for a quiet, restful night. Maybe, if he was lucky, Nesbitt would just want him to shake a few hands and go on his way. If not, between the meeting itself and the mandatory debrief with CPD, it might end up being his fourth sleepless night in a row. It had been a long time since he felt like luck was on his side.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I still can’t believe he threw your transfer in the trash. That’s cold, man,” Darden declared. Backing his way up the stairs of Matt’s apartment building with one end of his dresser, Kelly rolled his eyes. “You’d be able to believe it if you knew Grizz. He’s done a lot for me, but it’s from a selfish place. It’s all about him – his team, his career, his plan. Me leaving 36 – that definitely wasn’t his plan.” “Well, I’m glad the spot was still open by the time you found out,” Matt said, following them up the stairs with two boxes in his arms. “It’s gonna be nice having you around.” “Boden doesn’t settle for second-best,” Kelly said smugly. “Have you always been such a cocky prick?” Matt and Andy said in unison. “Jinx,” Andy declared. “You owe me a beer.”  “Severide owes you a beer,” Matt corrected. He was the one whose stuff they were hauling across town and up three flights of stairs. “Severide owes me more than one beer. Seriously, did you leave the clothes in this thing, man?” “I have his clothes right here,” Matt assured him. “But that’s real mahogany, one of the heaviest woods used in furniture-making.” “You knew that at the bottom of the stairs, didn’t you?” Andy asked, glaring down at him while he and Kelly navigated around the corner of a landing. “Well, yeah,” Matt said honestly. Andy shook his head with disgust. “Two beers.” Matt grinned. “Okay. Two beers.” Despite the nearly 50 degree temperature, Matt’s face felt numb within minutes of standing outside in the wind. Following the recent personnel changes on Truck 81 and Squad 3, Captain Boden and Lieutenant Dabrowski decided to have them run drills to practice working together as a team. It didn’t escape Matt’s notice that while the rest of them rescued dummies in the elements, the officers stood just inside the app bay, protected from the wind. “Five minutes and 47 seconds,” Boden called out as Herrmann, Hustings, and Darden passed their dummy off to the traffic cone acting as a medic. (The actual medics laughed off Boden’s invitation to participate in the drills, opting to stay inside until they got a call.) “Heck yeah!” Andy cheered, high-fiving the other members of his team while Dabrowski and Boden reset the course. “McHolland, Casey, Severide, let’s see if you can do any better than that pitiful time,” Boden goaded them. “Let’s go!”  It had been two years since Matt and Kelly trained together in the Academy, but with those years of experience under their belts, they made a better team than ever. By the time Mouch worked his way through the course to reach their side, they were halfway through freeing their dummy. They communicated by watching and anticipating each other’s movements, with little need for words. Even the wind suddenly blowing a gust of cold rain in their faces couldn’t slow them down. “Let’s move, firefighters! Lives are at stake!” Boden yelled anyway. Mouch groaned loudly about the rain, but he wasn’t about to be shown up by the two younger firemen, let alone his best friend’s team. Motivated to get out of the downpour, the three of them worked together to get the dummy back through the course in record time. “5:16!” Boden announced as they handed their ‘patient’ off to the ‘medics.’ “That’s more like it!” “Way to go, Mouch!” Herrmann cheered, clapping his hands. “Hey!” Severide protested. “What about us?” Matt indignantly asked. “Yeah, yeah, you boys did okay too. Thanks to McHolland’s excellent leadership.” “Why, thank you, Curby,” Mouch answered, taking a slight bow. “Alright, that’s enough patting yourselves on the back,” Dabrowski interrupted. “Next, we’re going to –” Before the lieutenant could announce the next phase of their drills, they were saved by the bell. 
“Truck 81, Squad 3. Person trapped at 233 South Wacker.” 
Everyone stopped what they were doing and cleared their equipment to the side, then ran to load into the rigs. Conveniently, they were already in their turnout gear, so they were on their way within seconds. “233 South Wacker,” Darden said. “That’s…?” “Sears Tower,” Herrmann confirmed. On a less overcast day, they could see Sears Tower from the firehouse – but not today. It was only a mile away, but clearly, the wind was much worse downtown. The highrises themselves may have been windproof, but anything that wasn’t bolted down seemed to have ended up in the street. Several of the traffic lights were out, and they encountered two minor MVAs on the way to their call. Nearing Sears Tower, they identified the cause of their “person trapped.” About halfway up the side of the tower, a window washer’s scaffolding dangled almost vertically. It was too far up to make out many details from the ground, but based on the lack of bodies on the plaza below, there had to be at least one person trapped inside. The second the rigs stopped, Severide jumped out of the Squad and headed straight for the entrance. Matt wondered for a moment if he was going rogue, but Captain Boden watched him go with no apparent concern. “Truck 81, I need you to clear the plaza in case this thing goes sideways,” the captain ordered. “Lieutenant, do you mind if I borrow Casey to give us a hand?” Dabrowski slapped Matt on the back. “Go on. But think of yourself as a packhorse. Two feet on the ground, no acrobatics.” “Yes, sir,” Matt readily agreed. “Where do you need me, Cap?” Squad 3 piled his arms full of webbing, ropes, and harnesses, and he followed them to the emergency-use elevator. The car was nearly back to the ground floor after taking Kelly up, and Boden radioed him to check in. “Severide, what have we got?” 
“There are two window washers trapped on a platform. One of the ropes is broken, and it looks like the others are tangled. The platform is hanging at about a 75 degree angle.” 
“What floor do you recommend we attack from?” Boden asked. 
“64. They’re hanging between 64 and 63.” 
“Okay, we’ll be right up. Wait for back-up before you start opening any windows.”  “Copy,” Kelly answered. The five firefighters piled into the elevator, and Boden pressed the button for the 64th floor. In the 30 seconds or so it took to reach their destination, two of the Squad guys got harnessed up while Boden issued orders. When the elevator doors opened, they hurried down the hall to find Severide. Instead of a patiently waiting firefighter, however, they found a glass panel on the floor and an open window with cold rain blowing through. All they could see of Kelly was a length of webbing with one end anchored to a support beam and the other leading out the window.  “Fuck!” Boden yelled, sprinting towards the window. Matt and the rest of Squad 3 followed close behind. Outside the window, Kelly hung in mid-air with a single length of webbing wrapped around his body like a makeshift harness. One of the window washers clung to Kelly’s waist, his own harness still attached to a rope that dangled uselessly beneath them. “I could use some help!” Severide called out. “Casey, secure his anchor point,” Boden ordered. “Hustings and Donnelly, help me pull them up. Rios, get ready to go down after the second civilian, on my order.” Matt ran to shore up his roommate’s makeshift anchor point, ensuring the line wouldn’t come loose. Fortunately, it didn’t have to hold for long – Severide and the sobbing window washer were on the floor in front of him within seconds. As soon as Kelly was safe, Matt’s knees started to shake. Ignoring that, he went to help Rios lower himself down after the second window washer, who was still waiting with the platform. “There was a gust of wind, and his line was tangled –” Kelly was explaining behind them. “Can it,” Boden cut him off. “Are you hurt?” “No, sir.” “Then stand over there and don’t try to help,” Boden snapped. It took a couple of minutes to safely rescue the second worker. Severide stood off to the side without a sound, but Matt caught a few glimpses of him wincing while he rubbed his left wrist. Every time he saw it, the anger he was feeling grew a little more, but he set his jaw and tried to focus on the task at hand. Once the medics got upstairs and took over the scene, Boden made eye contact with Matt. “Casey, take your buddy downstairs to get checked over by the second ambulance company.” “He’s not my buddy,” Matt impulsively declared, despite all the evidence to the contrary. With a single nod at Kelly, he added, “C’mon, Severide.” “Judas,” Kelly muttered. Still subtly favoring his left arm, he followed Matt back towards the elevator. “I think you mean Peter,” Matt corrected him. “I’d like to deny that I’ve ever met you, not stab you in the back.” “I slept through Sunday school, but I don’t think Judas stabbed anyone.” Rolling his eyes, Matt ushered the man he’d never met before through the elevator doors. “You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?” Shrugging, Kelly leaned back against the wall. “Maybe. But if that guy didn’t fall to his death, he was going to have a heart attack.” “You realize it took them longer to get to the second guy because they had to bring you up first, right?” Matt asked. “He could have gotten killed while your team wasted time saving your stupid ass.” Severide closed his eyes, visibly detaching from the conversation. Matt sighed, a hint of guilt creeping in around the edges of his anger. “I’m glad you didn’t die… I guess.” Keeping his eyes shut, Kelly shrugged again. “Couldn’t stand there and do nothing while he screamed at me for help. Not when I knew I could help. Too many times we can’t.” “I get that,” Matt reluctantly acknowledged. He wanted to keep scolding until his adrenaline settled, but Kelly was going to get it from all sides for the rest of the day. Much as he deserved to be yelled at by the captain and the chief, he probably didn’t need to hear it from his roommate, too. So, biting his tongue, Matt kept the rest of his criticism to himself. The remaining hours of their shift were every bit as awkward as Matt expected. He always hated watching others get dressed down, no matter who it was. He would rather be the one to get yelled at than stand around and watch. The medics berated Kelly while checking out his arm, and once he had medical clearance, Darden and the rest of 81 took over from there. Kelly endured the scolding with good grace and minimal deflection, but Matt wished the ground would open and swallow him up. “That kid might go from being the youngest guy to join Squad to the youngest guy to get fired from Squad,” Herrmann commented on the way back to quarters. “Better than the youngest guy to get killed on Squad,” McHolland said sourly. “That combination of ego and poor impulse control is the last thing we need on our calls.” Darden and Matt exchanged uneasy looks. Matt hoped that as Kelly’s best friend, Darden might come to his defense – but Andy just shrugged and looked away. “Like most of those Rescue Squad guys, he’s a showboater,” Dabrowski declared. “But I’m not sure if this one’s got the skills to back it up, or just the surname.” “That was a bad call,” Matt acknowledged. “I don’t think he was showing off, though. He had a terrified victim hyperventilating on a tangled rope a thousand feet off the ground in the middle of a wind storm. I don’t agree with how he handled it, but he didn’t get killed today, so let’s give him a chance to learn from his mistakes.” Based on the chorus of murmurs and grunts, none of them were convinced. Taking Andy’s lead, Matt let the subject drop. Kelly was a damn good firefighter, but he would have to prove that to everyone else on his own. Once they got to know him, they would come around. When Matt woke up the next morning, he found Kelly on his hands and knees in the app bay, scrubbing the trench drains. As far as he could tell, Kelly spent all night doing chores – and he was pretty sure nobody actually ordered him to do so. Apparently, Kelly’s broody side had a penchant for rage cleaning. “I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind.” Kelly’s voice was quiet, restrained – like he was trying hard to contain his anger. He avoided looking up, keeping his gaze focused pointedly on the drain. “Okay,” Matt calmly agreed, lifting his hands and backing towards the door. “I’m here if you change your mind. But just so you know, everyone else is getting up.” Kelly didn’t answer, but Matt didn’t expect him to. He only caught a glimpse of his friend’s bloodshot eyes, but that was enough to betray his secret: he’d been crying. Although Matt had never been driven to the point of tears by any of his lieutenant’s lectures, he’d been close – and Dabrowski couldn’t hope to reach the decibel Boden was yelling at after the call. Giving Kelly a chance to save face, Matt backed off without comment. Just as he was going back inside, Kelly stopped scrubbing and leaned back on his heels. “Thanks, Case.” Matt paused in the doorway for just a second, but didn’t look back. “You’re welcome.” Returning to their apartment after shift, Kelly went straight to his room. He didn’t even close his bedroom door or take off his boots before throwing himself down on the bed, making the metal bed frame creak. “You okay?” Matt asked from the doorway.  “Mmm,” Kelly moaned into the mattress. After a few seconds, he turned his head and clarified, “I just need a nap.” “Fair enough,” Matt said, reaching for the doorknob. “I’m making pulled pork sandwiches for lunch, so try to wake up hungry, ‘kay?” Kelly laughed weakly. Leaving him to his nap, Matt pulled the door shut. He changed into sweatpants and took off his shirt, then went to get a beer from the fridge. Flopping down on the couch, he turned the television on and skipped through the channels until he found a college football game. Becoming roommates with the man he’d had a crush on for two years might not have been Matt’s best idea. Already, he felt off-kilter, and they hadn’t even gotten to any of the really weird parts of being roommates yet. He could only imagine the first time one of them brought someone home. If there was one sure way to make him regret inviting Kelly to move in, it would be overhearing his sexual encounters through a wall. Given the facts of their situation, it was bound to happen eventually, and he wasn’t sure how his heart would take it when it did. Still, when the stars aligned and Kelly found himself in need of a place to live at the same time that Matt had an empty room… Well, what was he supposed to do? Despite their mutual crushes and occasional drunken slip-ups, they’d built a strong, reliable friendship over the years. Matt wasn’t the kind of guy who let his friend live in a car because he was worked up about a few stolen kisses. Technically, it was 13 stolen kisses, if you counted each drunken make-out as a single kiss. It never went further than kissing and groping through their clothes, but somehow, the frustration made the whole thing even hotter. When they were sober, they never spoke of it, effectively pretending that both of them were black-out drunks. In reality, although they drank a lot on those nights, Matt remembered at least 10 of the 13 with perfect clarity. Anyway… this roommate thing was going to work out great. Matt wasn’t concerned at all.  About one and a half football games later, the bedroom door opened and a much more composed Kelly Severide emerged. He wore nothing but a pair of black boxers that sat low on his hips, forcing Matt to look straight ahead at the TV so he wouldn’t get caught staring. “Great timing,” he said. “The pork should be out of the oven in about…” “Six minutes,” Kelly supplied, reading the timer on his way to the fridge. “Thanks for cooking, man. I’m starving.” He took a beer from the fridge before joining Matt on the couch. Fortunately, there was space for them to sit more than a foot apart – but that didn’t save Matt from completely losing his ability to focus on the game. “Good nap?” he asked lamely. Shrugging, Kelly swigged his beer. “I guess.” Matt wasn’t sure if the silence that followed was more companionable or awkward. He had no idea what to say, but Kelly didn’t seem to mind. Talking about it was probably the last thing he wanted. When the oven timer went off, Matt eagerly jumped up and went back to the kitchen. Kelly followed about a minute later, quietly getting two plates from the cupboard and putting them on the table. “You want a glass of water?” he asked. Matt nodded. “Yeah. Should probably drink something other than beer today.” “We could try tequila later,” Kelly suggested. “Do you want to go out tonight?” Matt asked. Personally, he preferred to bunker down at home after a rough shift, but Kelly had his own way of working through his feelings. Most of the time, that included public intoxication. “I really do,” Kelly answered. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, though. I might ask a couple of my high school buddies. Could be nice to just chill with people who didn’t watch me put my career on the line yesterday.” It was more than Kelly’s career that he put on the line, but he obviously wasn’t ready to talk about that. Resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, Matt put the pork and a bag of hamburger buns on the table, then grabbed a pack of baby carrots and two apples from the fridge. “I’m sure I can find something else to do tonight,” he said agreeably, taking a seat at the table. The quiet that fell over them while they ate lunch was definitely the awkward type. Matt wanted to cheer Kelly up, but he couldn’t figure out what to say. Despite the obvious signs that Kelly didn’t want to discuss the call, bringing up any other topic would be awkward, too. After a few minutes, it was Kelly who broke the silence. “What if I’m not actually cut out for this?” he asked softly, making eye contact with his lunch rather than his roommate. Matt nearly dropped his sandwich. “What?” Kelly scowled down at his plate. “It’s just… I’ve wanted to be a firefighter for as long as I can remember. I know they told us over and over again at the Academy to have a back-up plan in case we get injured out or – or wash out, but… this is all I’ve ever wanted.” The pitch of his voice increased with the last few words, and he clamped his mouth firmly shut. “You’re not going to wash out,” Matt said firmly. “Kelly. Come on, man. You’re a great firefighter, and we both know how much you love the job. Don’t let one bad call throw you off.” Exhaling through his mouth, Kelly lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I know yesterday was tough, but tomorrow’s a new day. You’re going to get through this.” Shaking his head, Kelly pushed his chair back from the table and stood, leaving his half-eaten meal on his plate. “Thanks again for cooking, Case. I think I’m gonna just… go hit the gym. I’ll see you later, ‘kay?” Matt nodded at his friend’s rapidly retreating back. “Yeah… okay.” Matt didn’t see much of Kelly for the rest of the week. Even during their shift, Kelly kept to himself, spending most of the day washing the windows, cleaning the gutters, and raking leaves outside the firehouse. Matt and Andy both offered to help, but Kelly politely declined. He didn’t say it out loud, but Matt was pretty sure he wanted the captain to see him doing the work alone. The day after that shift, Andy called Matt at 7:30 a.m. Heather’s father was in the emergency room with a suspected heart attack, and they wanted to go sit with her mom and wait for news. Since it was a weekday, none of the family friends who usually babysat Griffin were off work, so they wanted to know if “Matt and/or Kelly” could watch him for a few hours. Matt immediately agreed, then went to see if he could drag Kelly out of bed. To his surprise, he found his roommate awake and fully dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, sitting cross-legged on his bed with three fire science and technical rescue textbooks spread out in front of him. “Hey,” Matt said cautiously, lingering in the doorway. “Um, I think Andy tried to call you, but your cell phone’s off…” Kelly nodded without looking up. “Yeah, I think the battery died last night.” “Well… Heather’s dad is in the ER. They think he might have had a heart attack. Andy wanted to know if we could watch Griffin for a few hours, but I can see that you’re… busy.” He trailed off in a way that invited Kelly to disagree, then waited to see if he would. After about 15 seconds, Kelly closed the book nearest to him and sighed. “Damn, that sucks. Heather and her dad are really close.” Matt nodded. “Yeah.” “Okay,” Kelly said with another sigh, flipping the other books shut. “I could use some Griffin time.” “Do not, under any circumstances, allow him to nap for more than two hours,” Andy said for the second time. “I cannot overstate how important that is.” “Got it,” Matt answered. That was also #1 on the list of instructions Heather left on the counter, so he had no doubt of its importance. He was more concerned about their ability to convince the 21-month-old to take any nap at all, but he trusted the professionals’ advice. Andy slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to slip out of here without saying anything, so maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t do the whole screaming routine.” Matt nodded, feigning more confidence than he felt. “We’ve got this. Go take care of your wife.” “I owe you sooo many beers,” Andy answered on his way out the door. Matt gently closed and locked it behind him, making sure Griffin wouldn’t hear, and went to join Kelly in the nursery that used to be Kelly’s room. “Daddy go?” Griffin asked immediately, dropping his plastic toy dumbbell on the ground. Matt and Kelly had a silent conversation, and Matt squatted to meet Griffin’s eye with a smile. “Your mom and dad asked us to play with you today. Are you lifting weights?” It was a valiant attempt at deflection, but Griffin was no fool. He ran past Matt into the living room to look for his father, then burst into tears. Even though they’d been told to expect it, the intensity of the little boy’s sobs took Matt by surprise. “Mommy,” he gasped between sobs. “Mom – Mommy go?” “Aww, buddy, it’s okay,” he said, reaching out to offer a hug. “Mommy will be back soon.” Griffin’s sobs morphed into a single sustained wail. Dodging Matt’s arms, he ran back towards his parents’ bedroom and pounded on the door. When they didn’t answer, he started sobbing again, holding his hands against the door. “Hey Griffin,” Kelly said, walking up behind him. “Mommy and daddy had to go to the doctor.” Griffin turned to look at him, still gasping with sobs. “I know you don’t like going to the doctor,” Kelly continued, dropping to one knee. Griffin shook his head. “Nuh– nuh– nuh-uh!”  “You can stay here with me and Uncle Matty, and we’ll eat snacks and play with toys. Toys are better than the doctor.” Matt snickered, but Griffin’s sobs began to quiet. Once he caught his breath, he looked up at Kelly with a quivering chin. “Mommy dogda?” Kelly nodded. “Yeah, Mommy and Daddy went to see the doctor.” “Tots?” Griffin asked, more tears welling in his eyes. “Nope,” Kelly said confidently. “Nobody needs any shots today.” Matt had a feeling he’d change his tune by the end of the day, but for the time being, it seemed to calm Griffin. “Daddy dogda?” he checked, sounding more curious than distressed. Kelly nodded again. “Yep. Mommy and Daddy went to the doctor. Do you want to play with your fire truck?” Griffin shook his head. “Doggie.” “Okay,” Kelly answered. Even without seeing, Matt could hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s go play with your doggie.” The next few hours were absolute chaos. Griffin had a lot of new skills since the last time Matt spent this much time with him: running, jumping up and down, kicking and throwing – but his very favorite seemed to be removing his clothes. When Matt and Kelly arrived at the apartment, Griffin was wearing a pair of denim overalls with a green and white striped t-shirt underneath. Two hours later, Griffin wore nothing but his diaper, and the overalls were nowhere to be found. The toddler ran from one activity to the next, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. Matt tried to follow behind him and clean up at first, but Griffin tore through the apartment like a 30 pound tornado, making messes faster than Matt could clean. “Matt, just give it up,” Kelly said finally, watching Matt sweep Cheerios into a dustpan in the kitchen while Griffin pulled up all the couch cushions for the third time that day. “We can’t leave Heather with a big mess to clean up here, on top of everything else,” Matt pointed out. Kelly shrugged. “We’ll clean it up during his nap.” Griffin spun around and fixed Kelly with the most serious frown Matt had ever seen on a toddler. “No nap! No!”  “Okay,” Kelly said quickly, trying to cut off another meltdown. “No nap. It’s not time for your nap anyway. I was just talking crazy.” “No nap,” Griffin repeated sternly. “Right,” Kelly agreed. “No nap.” Griffin took off towards his bedroom again, apparently in search of another toy. Glancing at Matt, Kelly added, “At least not until after lunch.” Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m skeptical that letting him nap too long is going to be our problem this afternoon. He doesn’t seem big on rest.” By the time they served Griffin’s lunch – about a third of which made it into his stomach, another third went all over the table, and miraculously, twice as much as they remembered serving him got scattered on the floor – Matt and Kelly were more than ready for a nap. The toddler, however, remained disinterested, despite their best efforts to follow Heather’s instructions. “No nap is better than too much nap, right?” Kelly asked, flopping down on the couch to watch Griffin bang two plastic stacking rings together. “That’s a pretty song,” Matt told the toddler. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to lie to children,” Kelly said, pressing a throw pillow against his eyes. “It’s okay up until they learn what a lie is,” Matt joked. “Hey Griff, I saw you have some of those cool books with the buttons that make sounds,” Kelly said. “I bet Matt would love to see one of those.” Pausing, Griffin looked up at Matt with a curious-sounding grunt. “Moo-moo book?” Kelly clarified. (Matt wished he had a video of that.)  “Moooo,” Griffin answered proudly, then banged his rings together again. “Let’s go look for the book,” Matt suggested, reaching for Griffin’s hand. “Moo,” Griffin repeated. Ignoring Matt’s hand, he turned and sprinted to his bedroom. Shaking his head, Matt followed. Rather than looking for a book, though, Griffin took the stuffed cow from his bed and held it high above his head. 
“Moo!” 
 “Here, let’s read your ‘moo-moo’ book while you cuddle with your cow,” Matt offered, finding the book miraculously on its shelf.  “Moo!” Griffin insisted, offering Matt his cow. Matt cringed, closing one eye. “Moo?” he said quietly, hoping Kelly wouldn’t hear. “Moo!” Griffin said more cheerfully. Keeping the cow in his hands, he toddled back to the living room to show Kelly his prize. Matt picked up some random items from the floor and picked out two more interactive books, then followed the toddler back to his lounging roommate. “Did you get the book?” Kelly asked, holding out his hand before Matt could answer. Matt passed him the book, and Kelly flipped it to the cow page. “Griffin, do you want to push the button?” he invited. “Moo!” Griffin enthused, running to Kelly’s side to grab the book. “Wait!” Kelly said, holding the book out of his reach. “If you want to push the button, you gotta lay on my lap. Come on.” He patted his lap, and to Matt’s amazement, Griffin climbed up and settled in with his head on Kelly’s chest. Matt sat down in the recliner, putting the quieter “touch-and-feel” books on the coffee table where Kelly could reach them. Griffin focused on those goddamn animal sounds longer than any other activity he did that day, but eventually, he let them switch it out for a firehouse touch-and-feel book. While feeling the ‘rubber’ of the wheels, Griffin yawned, and Matt held his breath. Please go to sleep. Come on, little guy.  A couple of minutes later, Griffin’s eyes closed, and his hand left the dalmation’s ‘fur’ to cling to Kelly’s shirt. As suddenly as storm clouds clearing after a tornado, his breathing evened, and he fell asleep. “We did it,” Kelly whispered, his face alight with joy Matt had been missing for days. At that moment, Matt realized something that had been true for nearly two years: He was head over heels in love with his best friend. “Don’t sneeze,” he whispered back. They had two hours to let that baby sleep, and he was going to enjoy the peace and quiet. If that was an excuse to stare at Kelly Severide… so be it. Andy and Heather came home at 7:00, just in time to get Griffin ready for bed. Matt and Kelly did their best to clean up the apartment beforehand, but Griffin made messes faster than the first responders could get to them. In the end, keeping the child safe, fed, and clean was the best they could do. After hugging Heather and saying their goodbyes (and apologies) to Andy, they went to a tavern to grab burgers and beer. “I’m beat,” Kelly said as they walked inside. “How about we order our burgers to go, have one beer here, and then go home to get blackout drunk?”  ‘Get blackout drunk’ was code for one thing, and Matt wasn’t exactly opposed. “Hell yes,” he agreed. They placed their orders at the counter and then drank their beer in silence, too exhausted to bother with small talk. The drive home was equally quiet. There was no tension this time – their shared trauma had overcome all of that. “That was a lot,” Matt commented on their way up the stairs. “I can’t walk up stairs and talk right now,” the man who jumped out a 64th story window five days prior had the nerve to complain. Matt rolled his eyes. “Are you a firefighter or not?” “Firefighter, yes. Parent, no,” Kelly answered. “I’ll stab you in the thigh if you tell Darden, but he might be tougher than me.” Matt snorted derisively at the long-overused joke. “Maybe.” When they reached their apartment, they each hit the head before settling in on the couch with their take-out meals and a 64 oz. growler. Matt was too tired to lift the TV remote, and Kelly didn’t take the initiative, either. “Damn, it’s been a long week,” Kelly commented after a few turns with the growler. “I bet,” Matt sympathized, closing his eyes to savor his bacon cheeseburger. He didn’t indulge in that kind of food often, but he needed it today. Kelly took a deep breath and confessed, “Hanging onto that webbing… I was so focused on just keeping myself and the victim alive until someone got to us, I didn’t really think about all the “what ifs.” But standing there watching Rios go after the second victim, I suddenly started thinking… What if I died?” Matt started to answer, but Kelly stopped him with a hand on his knee. “I – I had this mental image of… of Benny getting up at my funeral and reminding everyone that he knew his son wasn’t tough enough to be a firefighter. Getting myself and a victim killed in my first week on Squad… That – that would be the ultimate ‘I told you so.’ He didn’t just not help me get into the Academy; he actually argued against it, you know that?” Matt didn’t, but it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. “He – He knows Boden. They worked together a long time ago, when I was a kid. I don’t think they’ve really kept in touch, but failing at this with Boden as my captain… that makes it even worse.” “Benny is wrong about you, and you know it,” Matt reminded him. “But Boden – I’ve worked alongside the man for the past two years, and you wouldn’t be on his Squad if he wasn’t impressed by your skills. Yeah, he’s aggravated with you right now, but we both know you’re not a quitter. You’ll earn your way back into the field, and before long, this will all just be an embarrassing memory.” Kelly sighed again. “Thanks, Matt. I – I really appreciate you letting me move in and all, you know?” “Yeah,” Matt said. “I mean – I know.” Kelly took another swig directly from the growler. “You’re a good friend, Case.” Matt cringed. He was supposed to take those words as a compliment, but they stung to hear. “You, too,” he automatically responded. Thinking about it more, though, that didn’t sit right. If Kelly was brave enough to jump out a window without backup or safety gear, he could put these feelings out there. “Um… You can tell me if this is crazy, but… would you ever want to give dating a try? If not, we can, you know, forget it.” Kelly was silent for a while – far too long for Matt’s comfort. His stomach started to turn, and he wished he really could make his friend forget the past two minutes. “I’m sorry,” Matt apologized, self-consciously scooting towards the end of the couch.  “What about marriage and babies?” Kelly asked, referencing Matt’s long-standing reason for not dating men. Thinking back on the state of the Dardens’ apartment when they arrived home, Matt shook his head. “Right this second, I’m not that excited about babies.” Kelly snorted. “Touché.” “I do still want a family someday. But… I’ve realized I’m not in that much of a hurry for all of that responsibility. We can have some fun in the meantime – if you want to.” “Fun sounds good,” Kelly said slowly. “I don’t think I’ll be ready to settle down for a few years, and… you’re a lot of fun.”  This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, Matt thought, leaning in to hint to Kelly that he wanted a kiss. “I can be even more fun,” he teased. “Oh yeah?” Kelly smiled, brushing his thumb across Matt’s cheek. “Yes,” Matt whispered, bridging the space between their lips. They didn’t need words after that.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Like most of Matt’s meetings with Jack Nesbitt, the one he called on Sunday was a complete waste of time. Ostensibly, his investors had questions about Matt’s capacity for scaling up the project and building clubs in other Midwest cities. Although Matt had no interest in actually doing any work outside of Chicago, he played along for the sake of gathering information, committing himself to everything Nesbitt requested. He just hoped Voight put an end to this thing before he had to follow through. Nesbitt was always tightly-wound, but Sunday night, he was straight up paranoid. In addition to checking Matt for a wire and making him leave his phone at the bar while they talked in the back, Nesbitt spent most of the evening pacing his office and checking to make sure nobody was listening at the door.“Look, man, is there something I should know?” Matt asked, taking a sip of scotch while he watched Nesbitt pace. Nesbitt spun around to face him. “What do you mean?” Matt sighed. “You’re acting like you expect someone to be listening in on your conversations, and every time I step foot in this office, someone gives me a pat-down. You asked me about ATF the other night. I like you, Jack, but I don’t want to go to prison for you. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I need to hear something to convince me it isn’t in my best interests to walk away right now.” Refusing to be cowed by Nesbitt’s glare, he returned it with one of his own. “Anything I tell you can’t leave this room,” Nesbitt finally warned. “Obviously,” Matt sniped, motioning for him to talk. “ATF has investigated one of my investors before. Some technicalities involving the import of alcohol from Eastern Europe. It was all resolved before we ever started working together, but I just found out about it, and… well, to be honest, Matt, I’m worried. I’m an honest man, and I don’t like the idea of doing business with someone who isn’t. But you have my word, none of it will come back to bite you. You’re just remodeling a few clubs.” It was convincing, as much as a pile of bullshit could be convincing. Erring on the side of caution, though, Matt pretended to believe it. “Okay,” he said. “That doesn’t sound like too big of a deal. You’re not selling any illegal products at your clubs, are you?” “No,” Nesbitt assured him, lying through his teeth. “I’m committed to keeping my operation fully above board. I’m taking care of the problem. It’s nothing for you to worry about.” “Okay,” Matt repeated, leaning back in his chair. “I can live with that. And hey, I hope you don’t mind my asking.” “You have a business and a stellar reputation to protect,” Nesbitt acknowledged, sinking into the seat across from Matt. He poured himself another glass of scotch, then leaned across the table to top off Matt’s. “I understand. And I appreciate you asking the question directly instead of nosing around behind my back.” Matt shrugged, lifting his glass for another small sip. “The only ‘nosing around’ I needed to do was with your CFD brothers… and by all accounts, you’re a man of principle, even when that meant walking away from a career that you loved. I respect that.” Nesbitt’s answering smile sent a chill up Matt’s spine. “Thanks, Casey. It’s really good to hear that.” Their conversation made only one thing clear: Matt would never get the information Voight needed straight from Nesbitt. The other man was too good at lying, and Matt was no interrogator. If it wasn’t for Katya’s corroboration of Voight’s accusations, he wouldn’t know what to believe. Without Katya’s notebook, this whole investigation was probably a dead end. “Wait, are you seriously mad at me right now?” Kelly asked, pulling on a pair of joggers with his back to his boyfriend. They’d only been up for about ten minutes, but already, he wished he could press a reset button and try the day again. “I’m not mad,” Clarke answered, but his tone told a different story. Sighing, Kelly turned around and watched his boyfriend roll his long-sleeved black t-shirt down over his abs. “You’re not going to shower here before your shift?” Jeff shook his head. “No, I’m gonna hit the gym and change out at the firehouse.” “You don’t want to eat something first?” Kelly suggested. “Nope,” Jeff said curtly, buttoning his jeans. After a moment of awkward silence, he glanced at Kelly and added, “Rafferty’s on breakfast duty this shift, and she promised to make something called ‘sausage-stuffed honey buns.’ We’re all kind of excited to try it.” Kelly’s lack of reaction to the phrase “sausage-stuffed honey buns” was a testament to his stress. Nodding slightly, he leaned back against his dresser. “I guess that explains why you need to hit the gym.” The left side of Jeff’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “Yep.” Kelly frowned to himself while Jeff put on his socks and retrieved his phone, wallet, and watch from the nightstand. His boyfriend was obviously mad. He hadn’t looked Kelly in the eye all morning, and on any other day, he considered sex to be a perfectly adequate pre-shift workout. The only “gym” he ever went to was the firehouse weight room, and he hardly needed to get to work an hour early to use that. On his way out the bedroom door, Jeff said, “I’ll see you at shift change,” and tried to kiss Kelly on the cheek. Dodging the passive aggressive kiss, Kelly shook his head. “Jeff.”  “Kelly,” Jeff said flatly, slipping past him to leave the room. “Please don’t walk out on me without talking about it,” Kelly implored. “I didn’t mean to upset you –”  “Stop,” Jeff snapped, but at least he turned around. That was better than walking away. After watching Matt shut down and walk out in the middle of a fight, Kelly couldn’t stand for Jeff to do the same. Kelly stared at Jeff without speaking for a moment, hoping he would see the desperation in his eyes. After a few seconds, Jeff’s expression softened just a little, and Kelly took his shot. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t think you would mind, and I’m sorry.” Jeff glanced longingly towards the door, but then turned back to Kelly and sighed, finally meeting his eye. “I’m not mad at you, Kelly. That would be ridiculous. It’s just… I’m not sure how to handle this situation, and I don’t want to get it wrong.” Kelly nodded, understanding. “I get that. I do. But shutting down and walking out of here without so much as a real kiss goodbye is the wrong way to handle it.” Jeff closed his eyes, apparently torn between giving Kelly a kiss or wringing his neck. To Kelly’s relief, he chose the kiss. “I love you,” Jeff murmured, squeezing Kelly’s shoulders to keep him close as their lips parted. “I love you, too.” “I’m glad you told Rice about us,” Jeff said carefully, extending his thumbs to brush against Kelly’s neck. “And I’m glad he reacted well to all of it. I would hate to have to make that sweet little boy an orphan.” Kelly smiled, shaking his head. “Rice was accepting even back in high school, and he figured you and me out just by seeing us together. I knew it wouldn’t be a problem.” Jeff nodded, looking thoughtfully into Kelly’s eyes. “It’s just… We both know Matt isn’t going to feel the same way about it. And I think maybe on some level, you outed him out of spite. You said you were being true to yourself, but I don’t think that’s the whole truth.” Kelly wanted to explain himself, but Jeff’s expression held his tongue. “If I was still in the closet and you outed me, I would want to know – even if you were sure it would be okay. But that’s just my opinion. This is about Matt, and we’ve agreed not to stand in for each other in conversations like this. So I don’t want to argue or tell you what to do. But I also don’t want to tell you it’s okay, unless he does.” Kelly nodded. “I hear you. You’re right. I just… I guess I’ve been acting on emotion instead of reason.” “You haven’t been sleeping, and you’re under stress on all fronts. I’m sure things feel a lot worse than they are. Give it a few days. And take a damn nap today. Your dom is making that an order.” “I’m not sure if I’m still going to have Matt in a few days,” Kelly confessed. “I – I don’t want you to get in the middle of anything, but… if I’m really digging deep and being honest with myself, I think maybe I told Rice about Matt and I because it felt like it might be my last chance to – to have a moment that I’ve wanted for years. Matt’s pulling away from me, and I don’t know if I can fix it. I – I knew it was wrong, but it felt nice to pretend for a few minutes that – that everything is okay.” “C’mere, babe,” Jeff invited, pulling Kelly into a close hug. Resting his chin on Jeff’s shoulder, Kelly slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry things are so hard,” Jeff said, rubbing Kelly’s back. “My advice is to say all that – or at least most of it – to Matt. Maybe not today, if he needs to get through whatever personal crisis he’s going through first. But don’t let this turn into a secret between you. Those fester. And I don’t want anything festering in a bed where I sleep.” Chuckling weakly, Kelly lifted his head and stepped back, looking his dom in the eye. “Understood, sir. I’ll be sure to prevent any festering.” Smiling, Jeff gave him another tender kiss. “I really do want to get to shift early today, but you don’t need to be up. Go get some sleep, sub.” “Yes, sir,” Kelly agreed. After leaving Stilettos and reporting yet another failure to Detective Dawson, Matt found his way to a late-night bar with its last call at 4 a.m. That gave him four solid hours of drinking time. Reluctant to go home and face yet another argument with Kelly, he settled in at the end of the bar and used it all. By the time 4 a.m. rolled around, he could barely make his way to the door. If he didn’t have so much training on overcoming dizziness and disorientation, he probably wouldn’t have made it. “I called a cab for you,” the bartender informed him. “I strongly advise you to use it.” “Good idea,” Matt agreed. He wasn’t ready to stop drinking, but he definitely couldn’t drive himself home. Before getting in the cab, he stumbled to his truck to retrieve his jacket and the brown paper bag in his glove box. He checked three times to make sure his doors were locked, then slid into the back of the cab and gave the address of the intersection closest to his apartment. “Rough night?” the cab driver asked. He must have been new to the job. No experienced Chicago taxi driver would ever ask that. “No,” Matt said honestly. “My night was fine. It’s been a shitty year, though.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” the rookie said. “Do you want to talk about it?” Matt sighed, shaking his head. “No.” That was the end of their conversation – for 30 seconds or so. By the time they passed over the Eisenhower Expressway, Matt had forgotten that he didn’t want to talk. “Did you hear about the suicide bombing at Chicago Med a couple months ago?” The cab driver looked up in the mirror in surprise, but Matt hardly noticed. “Yeah, I saw that on the news. What, were you there?” “Yeah, I was,” Matt confirmed. “My – my girlfriend, she was near the bomber when it happened.” He almost slipped and said ‘my boyfriend.’ He was glad he caught himself in time. There was no predicting how a stranger might react, and he was in no state to defend himself or find his own way home. “Is she okay?” the driver asked. Matt shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, um, she was hurt pretty badly, but she recovered in record time. He… She went back to work a few days ago, and I’m a nervous wreck. But apparently I’m the bad guy for being worried that… that she might not be ready to go back.” “Oh, is she a nurse at the hospital?” the driver asked. Matt hesitated. “Um – yeah. Something like that.” “My wife made Easter dinner with a broken ankle this year,” the driver said. “I tell her, ‘Liana, sit down, I can read from a cookbook,’ but she didn’t believe me. Insisted on cooking the whole meal herself because it’s what she always does. Women, I tell you… they can be stubborn.” Matt cringed. “Mm-hmm. I know what you mean.” 
Men can be pretty stubborn, too. 
After paying the cab driver, Matt walked around the block to the alley behind his building. He wasn’t ready to go upstairs. He didn’t know if Kelly was home or spending the night at Clarke’s apartment, and if he was there, Matt didn’t want to face him. At least not until he could drink himself completely numb, numb enough to forget the way Kelly flinched when he said Andy’s name.  “Fuck,” he muttered, lowering himself onto the steps next to the dumpsters. I am a terrible boyfriend.  He zipped his jacket all the way up to his chin, then opened his vodka and lifted the bottle to his lips. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and took a long drink, only stopping when his nose and throat started to burn.  What the fuck am I doing?  Shaking his head, he took another drink to silence that thought. To his frustration, however, another slid into its place: If I can’t get the evidence Voight needs, this never ends, I’ll go to jail, and I’ll never be able to face Kelly or go back to work.  He had to solve this. He had to. The detectives all but confessed that he was their last hope of taking down an entire human trafficking ring. Drinking and flirting and talking about interior design were getting him nowhere, and in the meantime, human beings were being enslaved and raped and maybe even killed. Even if Voight would let him walk away without answers, Matt was fundamentally incapable of it. 
This is on me. I have to fix this. 
Sometime later, when the skies had just started to brighten but the streetlights were still on, a slamming door startled Matt awake. Hoping not to be recognized by his neighbors, he turned his back to the door and looked down at the ground. “Matt?” Matt sighed. It wasn’t Kelly – but somehow, being caught by Clarke was even worse. Trying to hide the empty vodka bottle between his side and the railing, he glanced up at his friend, who stood on the landing with a bag of trash in his hand. “Hey.” “Are you okay?” Jeff asked in a surprisingly neutral tone. Matt wanted to laugh, but it came out as another sigh instead. “Yeah. I’m fine.” “What are you doing out here?” Matt shrugged. “I just needed some air.” Jeff raised his eyebrows. “Does Smirnoff sell SCBA tanks now?” Matt threw him a hard look, but didn’t answer. How could he? “Kelly’s worried sick, you know. What the hell are you thinking?” The flint of anger in Matt’s chest sparked up again. The last thing he needed was for his metamour to start butting in. They agreed to stay out of each other’s business for a reason. “What happened to minding your own business?” he asked bitterly. Jeff seemed to measure him up for a moment, then shook his head. “I fell in love.” Matt simply stared at him, unable to think of a response. Raising his eyebrows, Jeff walked past him to the closest dumpster, opened it, and put the trash inside. “Give it to me,” he instructed, walking back to the stairs and holding out his hand. Still speechless, Matt tightened his grip on the empty bottle and shook his head. Unwavering, Jeff reached to take it from him. “Come on, Case. We both know you want to do the right thing. So give me the bottle and go upstairs. Talk to Kelly. I can leave and give you two some time, or I can help you talk to him – whatever makes this easier.” Matt’s stomach lurched. Once again, he was cornered with no way out, with nobody to blame but himself. “Look, Clarke,” he said, as calmly as he could, guarding the bottle with his body. “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to get involved in this. Everything is fine.” Clenching his jaw, Clarke took a step closer, but he dropped his hand to his side. “Everything is not fine. You do not have it handled. You’re drinking vodka in an alley at 6 a.m., and your boyfriend is upstairs wondering if he’s about to lose you to your addiction.” Matt screwed his eyes shut. He didn’t need to hear this. Not now, and definitely not from Clarke. 
There’s nothing I can do. I’m doing my best. Kelly will be fine. 
“Matt,” Jeff said sharply. “Go away,” Matt answered without opening his eyes. “Matt…” Clarke repeated, his voice no further away. “It’s none of your business!” Matt snapped, glaring up at him with an expression he could only hope conveyed more of his anger than his fear. “Fuck off. Please.”  “You’re hurting him, Matt,” Jeff insisted. “I don’t know what this is about, but please, get help.” “Go away,” Matt said again. “Just – just go away.” Jeff sighed, his shoulders dropping just enough to confirm Matt’s victory. “I’m going, because sitting here with you isn’t an option today. But… Look, Case, if you need help digging yourself out from under whatever this is… You can call me, okay?” Ready to agree to anything that would end their conversation, Matt gave a terse nod. “Got it.” The streetlights were off by the time Matt used the railing to pull himself to his feet. Groaning a little, he dropped the long-empty bottle in the dumpster and leaned against it while he stretched. He still didn’t want to go upstairs, but at this point, he was running out of places to hide. He needed to sleep somewhere other than the cab of his truck or a nearly-freezing alley. The only option he could think of would be to get a motel, but that was the kind of thing someone in a failing relationship might do. They weren’t there yet. Despite entering through a stairwell, he walked down the hall to take the elevator to the 3rd floor. Just because he could manage the stairs didn’t mean he had to. On his floor, it took him a few seconds to find the door that said “3C,” and several more to find his key. To his relief, he found the living room empty and all the lights off. Kelly’s door was closed, and against all odds, Matt made it to his own door on the other side of the bathroom without hearing so much as a bed creaking in Kelly’s room. “Thank god,” he muttered, carefully closing and locking his door. Maybe he and Kelly could talk things over once they’d both had time to rest. What the hell – anything was possible. When Matt woke up from his nap, he heard the distant sound of voices talking on the TV. Kelly’s up. Groaning into his pillow so his boyfriend wouldn’t hear, he considered his options. Unfortunately, there was only one that didn’t involve urinating in his bedroom, so he miserably rolled out of bed. “Hi,” Kelly greeted him from the couch when he opened his door. Grimacing, Matt ducked his head and hurried toward the bathroom. “Hey,” he answered as he shut the door. Unlike staying in the alley or his bed, hiding out in the bathroom for the rest of the day felt like a real option. After using the toilet and briskly washing his hands and face, he settled down on the tile floor. A few minutes later, Kelly knocked lightly on the door. “Matt? You okay?” Rubbing his fists against his face, Matt reevaluated those options. It was midday by now – maybe he could run the gauntlet to his front door and go hide out in another park. Of all the miserable days he’d had in the past week, the hours spent sitting in the grass beside an empty playground on Friday were among the least shitty. Kelly knocked again. “Angel? Are you alive in there? Talk to me.” Matt groaned into his hands this time, then leaned his head back against the wall. “I’m okay.” “That was convincing,” Kelly said wryly. “You ever think about being an actor?” “Fuck off,” Matt flatly answered – but on the inside, he wanted to smile. “I have Gatorade and Excedrin,” Kelly informed him. “If you won’t open the door to see my beautiful face, will you open it for some electrolytes?” Matt froze. I wasn’t drinking. He’s just guessing. Everything is fine.  “I’m fine,” he said, forcing a short laugh. “I – I don’t need any Gatorade.” “Yeah?” Kelly asked casually, obviously not buying a word of it. “If you’re fine, can you come out here and let me see that with my own eyes, maybe?” Matt frowned at the door. “No.” Kelly’s answering sigh was dramatic enough to be heard through the door. “Matt… Angel, you’ve gotta let me in. Physically open this door, or talk to me about what’s bothering you, or both – just pick one.”  Matt sighed back at him with equal frustration. Knowing he had to say something, though, he started brainstorming topics he could safely discuss. “I’m worried one of us is going to lose our job,” he selected. Enough time passed that he started to wonder if Kelly walked away, but finally, he cleared his throat. “Yeah… That’s a thing we should be worried about, I guess.” Matt rubbed his nose against his sleeve. “Yeah.” Kelly gave another hefty sigh. Matt hoped he didn’t give himself a hernia. “Do you want to talk about that?” Kelly asked. Matt shook his head at the closed door. “Not really.” At first, he thought he heard another sigh, but it was actually a laugh. “Okay… Well, um, I think I’m going to go for a walk. Do you want to come with me?” Matt didn’t even particularly want to get off of the floor. “Uh… not this time. Thanks.” “Cool,” Kelly said shortly. “Well, I’ll be gone for a little while, so if you want to come out and eat something before you go back into hiding… There’s leftover pizza on the top shelf in the fridge.” Closing his eyes, Matt managed a weak smile. “Thanks… Love you.” Kelly slapped the door before his footsteps receded. “Love you too, babe.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Don’t be afraid to be rough with me this time. I’m not going to break.” With one hand pinning Matt’s wrists above his head and the other reaching for the bottle of lube on his nightstand, Kelly thought that was what he was doing. Discarding the lube for the moment, he decided to try an experiment. Curiously watching Matt’s reaction, he ran his hand gently down the center of his muscular back, then sharply smacked the curve of his ass. Matt’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and when he arched his back, it was towards rather than away from the slap. Kelly raised an eyebrow. That’s interesting.  “Hmm… Looks like someone might like a little pain with his pleasure. I’ll have to remember that.” Matt turned to glance back at him with laughter in his eyes. “I wouldn’t call that pain, but I do like it rough sometimes.” Kelly smirked. “I can do rough.” Keeping Matt’s hands pinned firmly against the mattress, Kelly leaned down to nuzzle the velvety soft skin at the nape of his neck. “For example…” He paused to press his lips against Matt’s skin. “... if I was being rough, I would bite you here…” He kissed again. “... and here…” Squirming in a way that made even more blood flow to Kelly’s cock, Matt gave a quiet, imploring moan. “And then I might slap you here,” Kelly continued, squeezing Matt’s ass cheek. “Harder, that time… enough to leave a mark.” The guttural noise from Matt’s throat conveyed just a hint of frustration. “And then…” Kelly said slowly, popping the cap of the lube and putting the bottle between Matt’s thighs. “I would keep biting…” He kissed Matt’s shoulder blade. “... And slapping…” He pinched Matt’s ass. “... While I start fucking you with my fingers…” He squirted lube onto his fingers before sliding them down the center of Matt’s butt crack, stopping when he found his hole. He gently tapped his fingertip against it, making it pucker under his touch. “Hurry up,” Matt instructed, arching up against his hand. “Dinner’s gonna be ready soon.” Kelly rolled his eyes at the back of his lover’s head. “You can’t rush perfection.” Matt said the chicken had to bake for 40 minutes. In a crunch, Kelly could have sex with two or three people in that time – but this was one fuck that didn’t need to be rushed. “Shut up and fuck me, Severide.” Or maybe it did. Chuckling, Kelly got on with slipping his index finger into Matt’s perfectly tight ass. “Leave your hands there until you cum,” he instructed, giving Matt’s wrists one final squeeze. Kelly was pleasantly surprised when the blonde obeyed, keeping his hands right where he left them. He thought he knew Matt Casey pretty well before they started dating – or more to the point, sleeping together. But as it turned out, the confident, self-possessed, and occasionally standoffish firefighter was a different (and even more beautiful) man behind closed doors.  At first, Kelly chalked it up to the gap in their experience. Matt had only been with two men before him, and it didn’t sound like either of those relationships lasted very long. But after their first few times together, it became clear that Matt wasn’t just leaning on Kelly’s expertise. The blonde knew exactly what he wanted; he just wasn’t very good at putting it into words. He was quickly figuring it out, though. “More,” he requested, pushing back against Kelly’s finger. Smirking, Kelly brushed his finger against Matt’s prostate while squirting more room temperature lube around the outside of his rim. Gasping, Matt shuddered all over, but his hands still didn’t move. “More what, babe?” Matt’s answering groan implied utter loathing, but after a few seconds, he found his words. “Add another finger. Please.” “I’d love to,” Kelly said agreeably, earning a slightly less testy groan. Moving quickly enough to relieve Matt’s frustration, Kelly finished prepping him. He refused to rush it, both on principle – he couldn’t let Matt boss him around too much – and because he wouldn’t risk hurting someone who’d only recently started having anal sex. He opened Matt up slowly, taking mental notes of the movements that made him moan the loudest. When he reached three fingers, he leaned down to kiss Matt’s neck again, relishing the tiny hitches in his breath and the way his fingers twitched against the bedsheet. “Have you ever cum just from being fucked or touched down here, without touching your cock?” “No,” Matt said cautiously. “Well, we’ll get there,” Kelly smirked. “But probably not before the oven goes off.” “Can I touch myself, then?” Matt asked. Kelly hesitated. They’d never talked about anything like this, but since he was asking… “No,” he answered. “You keep your hands where they are. I’ll take care of you.” He gently lifted Matt’s hips, making sure his dick no longer touched the mattress. He wanted to be completely in charge of his boyfriend’s pleasure, and apparently, Matt was more than okay with that. He moaned in quiet protest when Kelly’s fingers briefly left his body, but practically melted when Kelly’s lube-covered hand returned to palm his ass and balls. “Maybe next time, I’ll use my tongue to get you prepped,” he commented. “How would you like that?” After thinking about it for a moment, Matt asked, “You want to put your tongue inside of me?” Grinning, Kelly shook his head. Precious. He’s fucking precious.  “Yep,” he confirmed, giving his own dick a few pumps to coat it with lube. “Now, are you ready for my cock? Or would you rather wait until after dinner?”  “Kelly,” Matt answered, managing to sound more authoritative than whiny. “If you don’t stop teasing me, you’re going to regret it the next time you bottom.” “I’d like to see you try,” Kelly teased. Nevertheless, he stopped. As much as he might enjoy the payback, he wouldn’t ignore Matt’s clear request. Besides – his body ached for Matt’s, too. The muscles in Matt’s back rippled when Kelly’s cock sank inside of him, making their bodies one. He didn’t flail the way he did the first time, but Kelly still kept his arm wrapped securely around him for support while he shuddered and moaned. “Okay?” he asked. “Perfect,” Matt assured him, spreading his thighs further to welcome Kelly in. Kelly lightly cupped Matt’s long-neglected dick, but maintained his focus on his ass. Instead of thrusting, he started by circling his hips, slowly sinking deeper while rhythmically massaging Matt’s prostate with his cock. Despite his self-control, he joined Matt in moaning with ecstasy. 
We waited way too long for this. 
“Ohh, that feels good,” Matt unnecessarily announced. His cock was already leaking pre-cum in Kelly’s hand. “Hell yeah it does,” Kelly agreed. He let Matt cum first, pumping his cock hard enough to make his ass bounce against Kelly’s thighs. Matt’s hands writhed against the mattress, but he obediently kept them in place.  “Oh,” Matt gasped, clenching around Kelly’s cock while his cum spilled out on the bed. “I’m close,” Kelly informed him, moving his hand from Matt’s cock to his side. “Can I cum inside you?” “You better,” Matt answered – just as the oven timer went off.
Damn it. Was that really 40 minutes?! 
“The oven –” Matt gasped. “I’m close,” Kelly assured him, thrusting as fast as he could. He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on Matt’s waist, picturing the even more obscene things he’d like to do to this man someday soon. “The chicken’s gonna burn,” Matt fretted. Kelly clapped his hand over Matt’s mouth, not actually muffling his voice but still making his message clear. He was close, close – his nipples and butt cheeks and the back of his neck tingled, and he couldn’t hold back his climax if he tried.  “Mmm,” Matt moaned as Kelly came, pushing his ass tight against his cock. “Yes, yes, finally.”  Silent throughout his own damn orgasm, Kelly couldn’t hold back a chortle at Matt’s response. “I thought my stamina was impressive. I’ve never gotten complaints before.” “Chicken’s gonna burn,” Matt reminded him, starting to wiggle his way free before Kelly even thought of pulling out. The oven was still beeping, he belatedly realized. Letting Matt make his escape, Kelly rolled over on the bed. “Go – go. I’ll just catch my breath and be right there.” “Stamina, huh?” Matt smirked, not even bothering to wipe up before returning to the kitchen. He made a beautiful sight as he walked away, with just a hint of Kelly’s cum trickling down his thigh. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Kelly whispered after him, shaking his head. He used a relatively clean corner of his bedsheet to wipe the cum off his hands, belly, and thighs, then followed the blonde to dinner. After washing their hands at the kitchen sink, Matt and Kelly sat down to dinner. Neither of them bothered to put on any clothes, but once he saved the main course from burning, Matt wiped himself up with a towel. “That smells so good,” Kelly said, watching Matt take the pan from the oven. “What is it?” “Cranberry chicken,” Matt answered. “Can you grab the bottle of Merlot from the fridge?” “Wine? Really?” Kelly asked, raising his eyebrows. Matt shrugged. “I trust you in the bedroom. You can trust me in the kitchen.” He might be offended if that comment came from any other date, but in their years of friendship, Kelly certainly hadn’t seen Matt sipping much wine. They both preferred beer, scotch, whiskey, and an occasional shot of tequila to unwind. But as it turned out, Kelly Severide put Matt in a wine-and-chocolate kind of mood. “Just wait until you see dessert,” he added. “Wait, what’s for dessert?” Kelly asked. Matt smirked. “You’ll see.” He served their meals onto plates and laid out the silverware while Kelly poured two wine glasses to the brim. Smiling, Matt shook his head. “Don’t spill any of that. It’ll stain.” “I would never spill,” Kelly assured him. “Would I drop a victim during a rescue?” “I don’t know,” Matt said thoughtfully, taking a seat at the table and waving for Kelly to do the same. “Do you think you’ll ever be allowed to touch another victim?” In most ways, everyone had moved past Kelly’s aerial adventure. Boden didn’t even glare at him anymore. But he was still sidelined on calls, only trusted to carry tools or set up airbags and cribbing. As hard as he tried to be patient, it had him crawling out of his skin on every call. Matt was a supportive friend/boyfriend/roommate/fuck buddy for the first three weeks, but after a certain point, joking about it felt better than walking on eggshells. Kelly rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t bother to acknowledge the remark. “So, when you say you want me to be rough in bed… That means you want me to spank you? Bite you? Hold you down?” Matt laughed, even as he blushed. The change in subject wasn’t subtle, but he didn’t mind. Teasing Kelly about the window washer call was getting stale, and he wanted to see where this line of conversation might lead. “Um… all of that?” Matt answered, wishing his answer sounded like less of a question. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking of biting, but when you teased it, it sounded good.” “Have you ever been spanked before?” Kelly asked, taking a sip of his Merlot. “Oh wow, you were right about the wine.” “Um, no… I haven’t.” “Not even by your parents or anyone growing up?” Kelly pressed. Matt shook his head. “Nope. I mean, maybe an occasional swat on the seat of my pants… but not a real spanking.” Even just saying the word “spanking” made his cheeks burn. It was all he could do not to squirm in his seat. Instead, he busied himself with cutting up his chicken, coincidentally allowing him to look away from Kelly’s gaze. “Have you ever spanked anyone? Like a girl in bed?” Kelly asked. Matt shook his head again. “Just like a flirty smack on the behind… not enough to sting.” “But you think about it.” That one wasn’t a question. Glancing back up at Kelly’s face, Matt could tell he already knew. He shrugged, anyway. Kelly chuckled, taking a bite of chicken. “Mmm, this is really good.” “Thanks,” Matt smiled, finally taking a bite of his own dinner. “You ever daydream about being turned over someone’s knee?” Matt nearly choked on his chicken. His ears now burning along with his cheeks, he coughed into his fist while Severide laughed. “Well?” Kelly smirked when he recovered.“I hate you,” Matt muttered, massaging his temple. Catching sight of his wine, he almost frantically grabbed it and took a long drink, trying to gather his nerve. “Have you ever been spanked?” he finally shot back. Kelly lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Not for fun, but Benny took a belt to my ass a few times a year – basically whenever he happened to remember he had a kid after a couple drinks,” he casually confessed, taking a more measured sip of wine. “I’ve had my fill of being on that side.” “But you like… the other side?” Matt asked curiously, trying not to let the horrifying thought of tiny Kelly getting hit distract from the matter at hand. He’d only met Benny Severide one more time since their Academy graduation, but the more he heard about the man, the more he wanted to deck him.Kelly waggled his eyebrows. “Yep.” “Have you… done it?” Matt asked. He consciously didn’t allow himself to shift in his seat. “Yes,” Kelly said simply. His face had to be nearing its autoignition temperature by now, but oddly, he didn’t feel that embarrassed. He felt vulnerable, of course, but Kelly was clearly just as interested in this as he was. If they were freaks, at least they could be freaks together. Of course, now he had no idea how to continue the conversation. Kelly was clearly waiting for him to say something, but Matt didn’t know what to say. Anything that came to mind just sounded lame. Kelly was smiling at him now, with an expression that implied he knew exactly what thoughts were racing through his head. “You’re not big on talking about sex stuff, are you?” Matt almost laughed. Was that somehow unclear?  “I am… not.” Shrugging, Kelly took another bite of his dinner. He took his time chewing and swallowing, never taking his eyes from Matt’s face. “Well,” he said when his mouth was finally empty, “Just so you know, I’m down to try just about anything. But I do have a personal code. If you want me to do anything that could possibly hurt you, we have to talk about it first. With words.” Matt grimaced a little, but he had to admit to himself, that was a pretty solid moral code. 
And a sexy one. 
“I’m… curious about a lot of things,” he confessed, aided by the wine. “But I’ve never really been with one person long enough to feel comfortable bringing it up.” Kelly raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Matt’s body heated in a different way, and he diverted his attention to his meal. But the topic at the forefront of his mind didn’t go away. Resting his fork on his nearly-empty plate, he sighed. “I just… Look, I want to be open to trying… things like this. But… it’s hard to put into words. I guess – I don’t want you to see me as less of a man. The things I’m… interested in… they don’t really reflect the person I feel like outside of the bedroom. I don’t want you to think of me as… I don’t know, like I said, less of a man, but also less of a firefighter, or…” “Less strong?” Kelly asked neutrally. Biting his lip, Matt nodded. “I definitely don’t think that,” Kelly assured him. “I don’t feel any less masculine when your cock is in my ass. And I’ve been with women who are even sexier – and more feminine – because they take control. I think… well… a lot of people are conditioned to think of sexuality that way. But I’ve had enough sex to know better.” Matt chuckled, shaking his head. Kelly bragged like that before they started dating – of course that wouldn’t stop now. “You definitely don’t seem less masculine with my cock in your ass,” he agreed, going along with his boyfriend’s crass phrasing. “That… That kind of helps, actually?” “See?” Kelly grinned. “Everyone thinks I know nothing about relationships, but when it comes to the important stuff…” Kelly really did know a lot. Matt didn’t consider himself sexually inexperienced, by any stretch of the imagination. Most of the women he’d been with – and the two men – described him as a thoughtful and attentive lover. But since dating Kelly, his idea of what sex could include was starting to expand. They spent the rest of their meal talking in thinly veiled hypotheticals, using phrases that made Matt feel less embarrassed by allowing him to pretend they were talking about someone else. Kelly casually and nonjudgmentally answered all the questions Matt could bring himself to ask, raising a lot more questions along the way. By the time their plates were empty, Matt barely remembered the dessert in the freezer. Kelly wasn’t one to forget an unanswered question, though. “So, what’s this mystery dessert?” he asked, putting his empty wine glass on the table. Smirking, Matt got up from the table and went to get the tray from the freezer. “I made chocolate-covered banana pops,” he announced, turning to show Kelly his creation. He’d cut two bananas in half, then dipped each of them in melted chocolate, put a popsicle stick in the other end, and froze them overnight. Reacting exactly as Matt hoped, Kelly burst into laughter at the phallic-looking dessert. “Those look amazing, babe,” he grinned. “Can I feed you one?” Matt suggested, setting the tray in the center of the table. “Only if you sit on my lap.” Matt wanted to, but then he took a second glance at the antique wooden chair and had a horrifying vision of ending their date night in the ER.  “Yes to that,” he said emphatically. “But let’s take this to the bedroom. I’m not sure that chair can support both our weight.” “You need to build us better chairs.” “I’ll get right on that,” Matt answered, not entirely certain if he was being sarcastic or not. Sex-proofing their furniture really wasn’t a bad idea, but between two jobs and all the sex, he didn’t have a lot of free time. They retired to Matt’s bedroom, where Kelly set the tray on the foot of the bed and drew Matt into his arms for a kiss. “This is such a great date, babe,” he murmured in Matt’s ear. “Thank you.” Smiling, Matt pressed another kiss to Kelly’s cheek and took a step back towards the bed, pulling his boyfriend along with him. On the bed, Kelly scooted back against the pillows with his legs stretched out in front of him, then patted his lap for Matt to sit down. After settling into place – and making sure Kelly’s cock could feel his every move – Matt pulled the tray closer and lifted a chocolate-covered banana to Kelly’s mouth. They both giggled while feeding each other, and it soon turned into a competition to see who could fit more frozen banana in their mouth… but by some miracle, neither of them choked. When Matt reached for the last banana pop, Kelly put a hand over his to stop him. “What’s wrong?” Matt asked. “Nothing’s wrong.” Kelly gently guided Matt’s hand back to his stomach and rested his unshaven chin against his shoulder, making Matt shudder when the bristles scratched his skin. “I was just wondering… Do you want to try any of the things we talked about tonight, or do you need some time to think it over?” Matt’s stomach flip-flopped. Of course he wanted to try it, but he’d never felt so self-conscious in his life. He trusted Kelly more than anyone he’d ever known, but that wasn’t really saying much. Closing his eyes, he slowly exhaled. “I want to try it… but I need to know you won’t make fun of me or tell anyone – ever.” Kelly shifted Matt in his arms, turning his upper body so they could see each other’s faces while they talked. “Look at me.” Matt cracked one eye open. Seeing how hard Kelly was trying not to smile, he finally dared to open the other. “I promise,” Kelly said earnestly. “I will never make fun of you or look down on you for anything we do together. And I will never tell anyone we’re together without your permission, let alone any of the details. This thing we have – this beautiful thing – it’s between you and me.” Nodding slowly, Matt reached up to touch the pendant around Kelly’s neck. “I believe you,” he whispered, willing himself to trust it. Kelly kissed his temple, then rested his forehead against the side of Matt’s head. “I think you are so brave for telling me about the things you’ve fantasized about,” he said. “Whether you’re ready to try any of them tonight or not, even talking about it over dinner was sexy as hell. You are sexy as hell, Matt Casey.” A smile stretched across Matt’s face, and his anxiety faded into the background. “Okay,” he nodded. “I want you to spank me. Just… not too hard, okay?” “If it hurts more than you like, just tell me, and I’ll stop,” Kelly promised. “But my plan is to leave you wanting more.” That statement felt vaguely threatening, but the effect it had on Matt wasn’t at all vague. Smirking, Kelly ran his thumb across the head of Matt’s penis. “I’ll take care of you later.” Matt snorted. “Are you talking to my dick?” “Yes,” Kelly matter-of-factly answered. “Your dick is becoming one of my favorite people.” Matt shook his head at his boyfriend’s antics, but to be fair, his dick felt the same way about Kelly. He wasn’t about to stroke his ego by repaying the compliment, though. “So, how do we do this?” he asked instead. “Do I lay across your lap here, or…?” “Yep,” Kelly confirmed. “There are lots of options, but we’re going to start simple.” Kelly moved the tray with the last banana pop to the nightstand, then helped Matt get comfortable across his lap. After a bit of experimentation, Matt settled in with his arms folded under his chin and his cock and balls tucked between Kelly’s bare thighs. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” Kelly asked, running his hand up and down Matt’s left thigh. Matt twisted to stare up at him for a few seconds, just enough to assure himself Kelly wasn’t making fun of him, then slowly nodded. “This time,” he dared to say, raising his eyebrow in a way he knew would drive Kelly mad. Without warning – aside from their in-depth discussion over dinner – Kelly brought his hand down sharply against Matt’s left ass cheek. “Are you defying me already? That’s brave.” Quickly shaking his head, Matt turned to rest his chin on his arms, shimmying his hips to feel Kelly’s thigh beneath his cock. As he wiggled, the second slap landed on the center of his butt. “Because it’s your first time, I’m not going to be too harsh with you… but you’re about to learn why you don’t talk back to your dom.” “Dom?” Matt asked curiously, turning to glance back at Kelly again. He heard a sharp intake of breath, but when he laid eyes on his best friend, he wore nothing but an almost tender smile. “I’ll fill you in on the jargon later,” Kelly promised. “I’m going to spank that sweet little ass now. Show me how good you can be and hold yourself still, alright?” Nodding, Matt turned back around, looking down at the bed while Kelly’s hand rubbed between his thighs, playing with his scrotum and then stroking his cock. Moaning softly, Matt rocked back against his hand. 
Smack. 
While that hand still held Matt’s rock-hard erection, the other collided sharply with his butt. It didn’t hurt, exactly, at least not as much as he wanted, but his skin tingled pleasantly in the shape of Kelly’s hand. 
Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. 
Just as his brain started to register the feeling in his butt as pain, Kelly paused and rubbed it away. While one hand soothingly rubbed Matt’s lightly stinging skin, the other thumb circled the head of his penis. 
“Mmm.” 
“Does that feel good?” Kelly asked. “Yes,” Matt answered.  Smack. Smack. Kelly spanked the center of his butt two more times. “I’m going to spank your ass until it’s nice and pink,” he announced, dancing his fingertips across the spot he’d just slapped. “And while I do, I want you to think about whether you should be allowed to cum when I’m finished, or if you should have to wait.” Matt was 100% Team Cum Right Away, but he could pretend to think it over. “Yes, sir,” he said instinctively. Before he could even be mortified by his use of the word “sir,” Kelly was spanking him again. The smacks were falling much more quickly now, and within seconds, Matt lost count. Each slap of Kelly’s hand stoked both the heat in his behind and the pressure in his balls, leaving his cock throbbing against Kelly’s thigh.  “Ohh,” he moaned into his arms. Kelly paused again, caressing and then squeezing the mounds of his ass. “How does it feel?” “Amazing,” Matt answered, too caught up in the moment to be anything but honest. Kelly smacked each cheek two more times. “What do you think?” he asked. “Twenty more?” “We can do more than that,” Matt said. It barely stung at all, and he didn’t feel ready for it to end. “Twenty,” Kelly insisted with a smirk in his voice. “We can build up to more next time. Would you like to count these last 20?”  Smug bastard.  “Yes,” Matt agreed. The next slap was harder than the rest, making Matt flinch from surprise if not from pain. “One,” he said into his arms. Kelly slapped the same spot again, just as hard. Holding back a moan, Matt wiggled a little on Kelly’s lap. “Two.” 
Smack. 
“Three.”  Smack. Still, in the same spot. “Four,” Matt said, starting to wonder what Kelly was doing.  Smack. Again in the same place. The heat was impossible to ignore now, and Matt allowed himself a quiet moan. “Five.”  Smack. Kelly was spanking the other cheek now, thank god. “Six,” Matt meekly counted. Although Kelly gave him plenty of time to moan, count, and wiggle after each stinging slap, the spanking ended much more quickly than Matt wanted. Gently lifting Matt’s hips, Kelly guided him back into his lap, resting his lightly toasted butt on Kelly’s strong thigh. “Can I cum now?” Matt asked, leaning into Kelly’s embrace. His butt might have been out of the line of fire, but the other kind of heat was still building. “I dunno…” Kelly teased, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. “Do you deserve to cum?” Matt furrowed his brow. “Yes? I think so…” Kelly smirked. “Good. I want to hear you say it, and then I’ll make it happen.” Matt felt his face cheeks redden again, quite possibly giving his ass cheeks a run for their money. He really wanted that orgasm, though… He could already feel it. “I deserve to cum,” he said, giving Kelly what he wanted. “And then I think I deserve that last banana.” “Definitely,” Kelly agreed. Half an hour later, Matt couldn’t imagine a world outside of Kelly’s embrace. He wasn’t sure if it was the sex, the spanking, or the way Kelly made him feel inside, but suddenly, he felt completely weightless. It was almost like a marijuana high, but the only food he wanted was the chocolate he licked off the frozen banana. “Are you alright, angel?” Kelly asked, combing his fingers across Matt’s scalp. Matt lifted his head to look up at him. “Angel?” A smile spread across Kelly’s face, revealing the cute little gap between his front teeth. His lips looked impossibly soft, and without thinking, Matt reached up to brush his fingertips across his mouth. With a silent laugh, Kelly kissed Matt’s fingers and then moved them to rest against the stubble on his cheek. “Yeah… You’re my angel.” Matt’s heart smiled, but he wrinkled his nose for show. “That’s so cheesy.” Kelly shrugged nonchalantly. “Yep.” They cuddled there for a while longer before either man gained any inclination to move. Matt wanted to soak up every blissful moment in Kelly’s arms. “Are you falling asleep?” Kelly asked just as Matt started to drift off. “Mm-hmm,” Matt confirmed, nestling his face against Kelly’s neck. Shifting Matt’s weight in his arms, Kelly kissed the side of his head. “Let me make your bed for you. You go to the bathroom before bed, okay?” Matt nodded, any thought of self-determination long gone from his mind. “Okay. You’ll sleep with me tonight, right?” Kelly smiled warmly. “Yeah. I will.” When Matt returned to his room a few minutes later, he found half the contents of his closet on the floor. “What happened here?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.  “Where do you keep your sheets?” Kelly asked. Chuckling, Matt pointed to the basket on the top shelf of the closet. “Where do you keep yours?” Sighing with exasperation, Kelly grabbed a set of sheets. “I keep one set on my bed and the other in the hamper, usually.” “If we keep having this much sex, you’re going to need more sheets,” Matt pointed out. “Well, now you know what to get me for Christmas,” Kelly said, unfolding the fitted sheet and getting ready to put it on the bed. “Furniture and sheets I can fuck you on.” “Here, let me help with that,” Matt offered, taking one corner of the sheet. “And if that’s what you really want, sure. That’s way tamer than what I was thinking of.” “Wait, what were you thinking of?” Kelly asked. Matt shook his head. “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking about getting you for Christmas. That would ruin the whole surprise.” “I don’t like surprises,” Kelly protested. “Well, I guess we’re both learning to enjoy new things now that we’re together,” Matt informed him. Between the two of them, they quickly got the sheets on the bed and started returning Matt’s belongings to his closet. While they packed up one of the boxes Kelly had emptied, he held up an old red sketchbook. “Do you draw?” Matt froze for a moment at the sight of it, then slowly shook his head. “No. That belonged to a friend… my first boyfriend, actually. Tyler.” “And you kept it?” Kelly scoffed, flipping it open. His heart jumping to his throat, Matt reached out to take it from his hands, then clutched it against his chest. “Yeah. Um, it’s complicated. I’m over Tyler, don’t worry. But we never actually got to break up, or say goodbye at all. DCFS just moved him one day, and I never saw him again or even found out where he ended up. But he left this behind. I’ve never been able to talk myself into throwing it out… and I’m still not ready to. I hope that’s okay.” “Damn,” Kelly swore, his expression darkening. The knife in Matt’s gut dug a little deeper. “Um… I…” He took a step backwards, biting his lip. This is so stupid. I can’t risk Kelly over a memory.  The lines on Kelly’s forehead grew even more pronounced, and he vehemently shook his head – but to Matt’s surprise, when he spoke, his voice was tender. “Angel, of course it’s okay,” Kelly said. “I just swore because – well – that sounds terrible. I had a lot of uncertainty in my life growing up, but I can’t imagine having someone I care about just – ripped away, like that. When neither one of you chose it.” Tears flooded Matt’s eyes, and his nose threatened to run. “Thanks… and I swear, I really am over him,” he promised, silently cursing his years-too-late tears. “I believe you,” Kelly assured him. “But you’ve really never been able to find out anything about what happened to him? Not even with the internet?” Matt shook his head. “Not a trace.” Kelly pressed his lips together in sympathy, then reached out to take Matt’s hand. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m fine with it if you want to hold onto that book forever. And I hope you get to give it back to him someday. Just as long as you don’t run off into the sunset together and forget all about me.” “Tyler wasn’t the person I want to spend my life with,” Matt acknowledged, loosening his ironclad grip on the sketchbook. “I just really hope he has a life.” 
He was just a kid with a joint. 
Kelly nodded. “Me, too. For tonight, do you want to hold onto the book, or should I pack it back up?” Suddenly feeling like the book might burn his hands, Matt handed it back. “You can pack it up. Just make sure you lay it flat, ‘kay? It might be weird, but I want to give it back to him in one piece someday.” Smiling reassuringly, Kelly added the sketchbook to the top of the box, then carefully replaced its lid. He slid the box back to its place on the floor of Matt’s closet, put the other box beside it, and closed the closet door. “You are an amazing man, Matt Casey,” Kelly said, crossing the room to take Matt in his arms. “You, too,” Matt smiled. “Come to bed with me,” Kelly requested, tugging him in that direction. “Every chance I get.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After a quick dinner and a steaming hot shower, Matt spent the rest of Monday in his room. Although Kelly didn’t see him after returning from his walk, the occasional sounds of movement in the bedroom assured him his boyfriend was still at home, and he found two slices of pizza and a bottle of Gatorade missing from the fridge. In an echo of past evenings spent worrying about Matt’s alcoholism, Kelly slept on the couch Monday night. It was silly. He had a perfectly good bedroom of his own just down the hall, so the lack of invitation to Matt’s hardly left him in the lurch. But with two boyfriends, he wasn’t used to having his entire queen-sized bed to himself – and frankly, he didn’t like it. Sleeping on the couch with the television on felt less lonely than being the only one in his room. And if it improved his odds of noticing if Matt left in the middle of the night, he didn’t exactly mind. It was a quiet night. Although Kelly woke up a few times to sounds from the TV or the need to find a more comfortable position, there was never a peep from Matt’s room. When the sun came up, he padded down the hall to Matt’s bedroom before he hit the head. He didn’t want to wake him, let alone risk a fight, but he felt compelled to make sure he hadn’t disappeared during the night. Carefully turning the knob, he cracked the door open just far enough to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend, sprawled out on his stomach in bed with his face turned towards the door. His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy with sleep, but lines on his forehead and the tension in his jaw indicated he wasn’t having peaceful dreams. Shaking his head, Kelly closed the door and continued on to the bathroom, where he showered and shaved as quietly as he could. Once he was more or less ready for work, he went to make coffee and toast for breakfast. “Hey Matt,” he called from the hallway while the coffee brewed. “You want anything to eat before shift?” There was no response. Frowning, Kelly walked the rest of the way to Matt’s room and gently knocked on the door. “Matt? Are you up yet?” Matt still didn’t answer, so Kelly cautiously opened the door again. He found Matt still in bed, but his eyes opened to meet Kelly’s when he heard him come in. “I’m not coming to shift,” Matt said flatly. “I texted Boden.” “Really?” Kelly asked, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sick?” Matt turned his head away from the door. “No. I’m on light duty until I get my crap together, so I’m taking the day to get my crap together.” “In bed?” Watching Matt’s jaw tighten, Kelly instantly regretted the skepticism in his tone. “I thought I might start a little later in the day,” Matt said tersely. “Is that okay with you?” Every instinct in Kelly’s body screamed at him to argue. Experience told him that was no use. Closing his eyes, he took a breath before he answered. “Okay, Matt. I – I hope you’ll be ready to talk to me by the time I get home from work tomorrow. If you decide you want to talk sooner – or if you want to make out in your truck down the street from the firehouse while you’re playing hooky – just give me a call.” Matt’s only response was a sigh. Kelly shook his head with frustration. “I love you, angel. No matter what.” After a pause that threatened to shatter Kelly’s heart, Matt answered: “I love you too.” His voice cracked somewhere between the “you” and the “too,” and the ache in Kelly’s heart grew even sharper.  Go to him. Hold him. Don’t let go of him until he talks.  Silencing the childishly naive voice in his head, Kelly forced himself to step back and close the door. The same instinct that wanted to crawl into bed with Matt instead of going to work that morning had been trying to shield him from abandonment all his life. But whatever the hell was going on, Matt had made his position clear. He wanted to deal with this – or not deal with it – on his own. It wasn’t Kelly’s place to interfere. Not even to protect his own heart. While their coworkers filed out of the morning briefing, Chief Boden motioned for Kelly to stay. “How’s Casey doing?” he asked once they were alone. Grimacing, Kelly looked him in the eye and slightly shook his head. “Um… not great. He texted you that he wasn’t coming to work today, right?” “Yes,” Boden confirmed. “He said he was going to take the day to get his head on straight.” “Let’s hope it works,” Kelly said dryly. “Have the two of you had an opportunity to talk things over?” “We’ve had opportunities, but he hasn’t been willing to talk. He’s still trying to convince me there’s nothing wrong.” An inscrutable expression passed over Boden’s face, and he pursed his lips. Seeing that he was holding something back, Kelly’s frayed patience unraveled a little more. “If he told you something, Chief…” He trailed off, knowing the question was futile, and reluctantly changed course. “I just want to help him.” Boden nodded. “I know you do. So do I. So I’ll give him a call today, seeing if he’s up for having a bite to eat after I get off work tonight.” Kelly couldn’t imagine Matt agreeing to that, but he forced a smile. “Thanks.” Thinking their conversation was over, he started to leave the room, but Boden held his arm out to block his path. “Chief?” “You were also going to update me on the situation with Scott Rice today,” Boden reminded him.  “Oh,” Kelly remembered. “Yeah, like we hoped, Rice recognizes that he isn’t fit for active duty firefighting anymore. I’d like to get him an internal transfer if there’s anything available, but he knows it’s not guaranteed. Were you able to find any leads?” Boden gave a half-nod. “I may have something in fleet maintenance. I’ll ask Connie to get the transfer paperwork started. Have you given any thought to the opening this creates on Squad 3 – or the other one, while we’re at it?” “Joe Cruz,” Kelly answered easily. “Is that even a question?” Not quite smiling, Boden shook his head. “It seemed polite to ask. It’s not my Squad anymore, and I appreciate the very specific vision you have for it.” Kelly grinned and patted his mentor on the arm. “It’s very much still your Squad, ‘Cap.’ At least, I hope so. But thank you for letting me call the shots.” “Do you want to talk to Cruz?” Boden asked. Kelly shrugged. “Why bother? We both know he’s in. Just announce it. The place could use a little joy.” Even if that joy came mostly from being spared another of Kelly’s controversial hiring decisions. Whoever Matt got to fill the spot on Truck 81, they’d get a much warmer welcome than anyone coming into the house to join Squad 3. “And Lt. Casey?” “He knows it’s coming,” Kelly assured him. “I’ll text him right now though, just to make sure he has a head’s up before the announcement.” “Okay,” Boden said. “I’ll ask Connie to get started on two sets of transfer paperwork.” “Thanks, Chief.” Kelly just hoped it wouldn’t become three. During dinner in the common room that evening, Chief Boden walked in with a smile on his face. Kelly quickly jumped up to refill his water, not wanting his back to half the room when the chief made this announcement. “Okay, listen up,” Boden said. Once the room fell silent, he continued, “As some of you may be aware, Scott Rice has chosen to transfer out of this house. This is not a matter for public discussion, but for those who have concerns, rest assured, he will not be returning to active firefighting.” A couple of people turned to stare at Kelly, who was well-prepared to answer with a glare. It was what they expected, and he would hate to disappoint. Before the chief could move on to the next part of his announcement, Otis’s eyes widened, and he stood up from his chair. “Wait… Does this mean…?” he asked, looking across the table at Cruz. “Joe Cruz, will you stand up, please?” Boden asked. Otis’s face split into a grin, while the rest of the room was overtaken with whispers. Looking slightly stunned, Cruz joined Otis in standing. “It’s been reported to me that Joe Cruz has completed his Squad certification,” Boden said. “Since we now have an opening, it’s my honor to welcome you to Squad 3.” Cruz turned to look at Kelly, who raised his water glass and winked. “Hell yeah!” Otis cheered. Practically climbing over the table, he slapped his best friend’s arm in celebration. “You get to stay, and we don’t have to deal with any more of Severide’s buddies.” Okay, now Kelly had to convince Matt to hire one of his friends for Truck 81, just to get back at Otis for that remark. Maybe Jason Pelham?  “Congratulations, Joe,” Boden said, ignoring Otis while he shook Cruz’s hand. “Make us proud.” “Thank you, Chief,” Cruz said earnestly, turning to look around the room. “I will. I promise.” Capp, Tony, and Welch nodded back at him, while most of Truck and Engine just looked shocked. Kelly felt a wave of pride at his somewhat rough-hewn team. Despite the firehouse drama of the past few weeks, they would welcome Cruz to the team without complaint. Unlike Truck 81, nobody on Squad was delusional enough to think they had a say in those decisions. “And Brian,” Boden said with just a hint of irritation, “You are now the driver of Truck 81.” Otis’s face lit up, and Kelly turned on the faucet to finish filling his glass. Personally, he wouldn’t reward the kind of attitude Otis had been displaying lately with a promotion, even one that came without a pay bump. He didn’t think Matt would be thrilled about that, either. But realistically, Matt had bigger things to worry about at the moment. He probably wouldn’t even notice who was driving his rig. The sound of the firehouse klaxons cut their coworkers’ whispers short. 
“Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Truck 64, Truck 70, Ambulance 96, warehouse fire, 1400 North Cortland Street.” 
His heart rate spiking in the best and most familiar way, Kelly dumped his water in the sink. That must be a beast of a fire – Engine was called to that address more than an hour earlier, so this was at least the second alarm. And if they still needed a Rescue Squad after an hour, it was probably firefighters who were trapped. On their way to the app bay, he clapped Cruz on the back and spoke loudly enough to make sure Otis could hear. “C’mon, we’re going to start teaching you how to be a real firefighter today.” Shaking his head, Cruz waited for Otis to climb into the driver’s seat of Truck 81 before saying, “Thanks for telling me to tell him. I guess you know something about having a best friend on the opposing team.” Kelly cringed to himself while he pulled on his jacket. He knew less about that than Cruz thought, apparently. “Here’s lesson two: Try not to think of them as the opposing team.” “Yeah, we like to think of them as the B-team,” Capp teased from the back seat. “The word ‘opposing’ implies that we play in the same league.” Kelly slammed his door shut behind him. “Can it, Capp. Let’s go!” Kelly had been gone for nearly three hours by the time Matt drug himself out of bed. If he could, he would have spent the entire day under the covers, tucked snugly away from the harsh reality of the world outside his room. But eventually, he had to get up and face the day. This time last year, he might have stayed in pajamas all day, diving headfirst into a fridge full of beer. They didn’t keep beer in their fridge anymore, though, so he had no choice but to get dressed.He paused just long enough to make a cup of coffee and a slice of dry toast before he left, finding that they were out of butter as well as eggs, cereal, and milk. Of course nobody else would have gone grocery shopping while he’d been busy these past few days. It wasn’t like he lived with another adult who could see that he was stretched thin and pitch in on the household chores. Kelly was probably too busy complaining about him to Clarke to notice the butter was empty when he put it back in the fridge. Matt slammed the fridge hard enough to take the edge off his frustration, but he would have given anything for a punching bag. Getting one for their next place wouldn’t be a bad idea, actually. After eating his toast, he drove to the grocery store to pick up some essentials, figuring he should plan to consume something other than beer, liquor, and leftover pizza over the next couple of days. He did stock up on alcohol, though, buying two 6-packs to get him through the rest of Kelly’s shift and a bottle of vodka to stash in his closet for later. When he got home from the store, he made himself a sandwich and sat down at the counter with his laptop and the binder full of paperwork on the construction job. The way things were going, Nesbitt wouldn’t be behind bars any time soon, so Matt figured he better plan for a scenario where he had to actually start the job he knew he would never finish. He didn’t want to hire a bunch of people with a promise of months’ worth of work, only to shut down after a few days. For that matter, he didn’t want to sink much of his business’s money into the overhead, either. Especially when he might soon be out of two jobs. That train of thought led him to another spreadsheet, where he started calculating what it would take to support himself on just his construction business, without his CFD salary. He knew he could do it – he managed to house and feed himself that way from the time he graduated high school until he joined the CFD. But Chicago was a lot more expensive than 15 years ago, and remodeling strip clubs wasn’t exactly his life’s work. Despite his distaste for the subject, Matt forced himself to think through the logistics. In stressful situations like this, thinking through every possible outcome helped him see through the smoke enough to find a path forward. He hoped he would never need this particular spreadsheet, but having it would settle his nerves. He finished off two beers along with his lunch, then started a load of laundry. If he couldn’t get his life in order today, at least he could start with his apartment. To that end, he vacuumed the apartment while he drank his third beer, emptied the old leftovers and expired condiments from the fridge with his fourth, and wiped down the kitchen counters with his fifth. Just as he was opening the last bottle in his first 6-pack, his phone buzzed with a text. When he pulled up the notification, he recognized the number as Katya’s, although he hadn’t saved the contact in his phone.  “I got the notebook.”  Seconds later, another text came through: “Can I meet you to drop it off?”  Matt exhaled with relief. Maybe there was a light at the end of this tunnel after all, if that notebook contained the information Voight’s team needed. During one of Matt’s check-ins with Detective Dawson, he recommended a spot for any last-minute meetings with Katya. A Catholic church located about a 20-minute walk from Stilettos kept its doors open 24/7 for people who wanted to pray, and the clergy there weren’t averse to calling the cops when they saw something amiss. It definitely beat driving a truck with his name on the side into Katya’s neighborhood, so he texted her the address. Grabbing his keys, Matt hurried back downstairs. He briefly wondered if he might have been drinking too much to drive, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. He reassured himself with the observation that he could copy an address into a text without any errors, and he didn’t feel lightheaded on the stairs. He’d always had a high alcohol tolerance, and five drinks over the course of three hours wasn’t much. This wouldn’t go down in history as his proudest moment, but to save a life – potentially many lives – it seemed worth the risk. Gripping the wheel with both hands and focusing all his attention on the road, Matt made the drive without incident. Once he was safely parked outside the church, he texted Dawson an update and went inside. Walking into a church always felt a bit eerie to Matt – maybe it was all the shame. He chose to believe God wouldn’t strike him down for being gay, but his inner 12-year-old couldn’t help flinching when he crossed the threshold. Katya, already waiting for him in the back pew, turned to greet him with a nervous smile. Matt quickly scanned the room, noting each exit and potential hiding place. Katya was the only person in the pews at the moment, and with any luck, it would stay that way until he was gone. “Hey,” he greeted her, taking one last glance around before he took a seat. “You have it?” “Here,” she answered, just as eager to get down to business as Matt. She took the pocket-sized notebook from her jacket and passed it into Matt’s hands. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, taking the time to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to turn this over to the detectives right away. Do you want to come with me? You could stay with me, if you want to – I’ve got a pretty great couch.” Her eyes wide with fear, Katya quickly shook her head. “No. I’m going to go home, pretend to know nothing is wrong, and hope – hope that your friends will come through, and I won’t be the only one with a chance to be safe.” “Are you sure?” Matt asked. “I know how much you care about the other girls at Jack’s club, but it’s okay to put your own safety first.” Katya smiled, but it didn’t even come close to reaching her eyes. “I’ll be okay, Matt. Don’t worry.” Before he could respond, the door he’d entered through opened again. His stomach dropped at the sight of Jack Nesbitt, walking through the door in his customary sports jacket and smile. “Matt!” he said, too cheerful to be sincere. “And Katya! You two aren’t planning to get married here, are you?” Katya looked down at the notebook in Matt’s hand, then turned to Nesbitt and sprung to her feet. “Jack!” she answered his greeting, slipping out from the pew and walking directly up to Nesbitt. “What are you doing here? I know you didn’t come here to talk to a priest.” Despite her wide smile and teasing tone, Matt could see her hands shaking when she passed. Taking the opening she’d given, he dropped the notebook and his phone – still on vibrate – in the hymnal holder on the back of the pew. He then stood to follow Katya without looking back, hoping Nesbitt didn’t see him hide the evidence. “I came to talk to Matt, actually,” Nesbitt answered, turning his attention back to Matt. “Not quite a priest, but I bet you’d be good at the job.” Matt scoffed. “I think I’m missing a couple of the major job requirements.” “Yeah, I didn’t take you for the religious type,” Nesbitt commented. “What are you doing here?” “Katya asked me to meet her here,” Matt said honestly. Admit what you can’t deny. “We’re friends, and she needed a friend to talk to. And unlike you – she texted first. How did you know where to find us?” “I saw your truck parked out front,” Nesbitt claimed, as if he was just driving by. Matt didn’t bother to confront the lie – he wasn’t all that eager to know the truth. “What do you want, Jack?” he asked flatly. The door opened again, and two more Eastern European men walked in. Matt recognized one of them from the back room at Stilettos, but the other, he’d never seen before. “We just want to talk,” Nesbitt said. Matt raised his eyebrow. “Okay. I’m listening.” “We’re going to show you the site where we’re building the next Stilettos,” Nesbitt explained, making Matt’s blood run cold. “Today doesn’t work for me, but if you text me the address, I can swing by tomorrow morning.” There was no way in hell Matt was going to a second location with these men – or letting them take Katya. Before he could fully prepare himself to fight, however, Nesbitt pulled a gun from his coat. It was a tiny pistol, barely bigger than Nesbitt's hand - but a bullet from a small gun still killed. And with the barrel pointed directly at Katya’s chest, it was more than enough to get Matt’s attention. “We just want to talk, but if you won’t listen, we’ll be forced to solve this problem a different way,” Nesbitt said. “Now, I don’t want that. I know you don’t want that. And Katya – not to mention her sister Natalia… Well, I can’t say this would be anyone’s favorite plan.” “We can talk here,” Matt insisted, holding his hands out in plain view while edging closer to Katya. “I’m listening, Jack. I want to hear whatever you have to say.” Two more pistols appeared in the hands of the men behind Jack, and neither of these was aimed at Katya. Swallowing thickly, Matt stopped walking and raised his hands higher. “We can talk this out, Matt,” Nesbitt assured him. “You need to come with me so we can set things straight, but I promise, you do what we ask you to do, and you’ll go home to your boyfriend tonight.” Matt didn’t believe him for a second, but for what felt like the hundredth time that week, he had no choice. “Okay,” he said, waving his hand towards Nesbitt’s gun. “I’ll come with you. Just – Just let Katya go, okay?” One of the nameless men stepped forward, bringing Matt’s attention back to the guns pointed at him. 
“Now!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After a long night spent staring at the window curtains while his boyfriend slept, the first hint of sunlight came as a welcome reprieve. Pressing a gentle kiss against the back of Kelly’s head, Matt closed his eyes for a few seconds, wishing they could spend a lifetime waking up in each other’s arms. That wasn’t reality, though. These past two and a half years, while they fell more and more in love and built their present-day lives together, “someday” loomed over them like a dark cloud they could only pretend to ignore. Someday, they wanted to climb the ranks of the CFD – Matt had his sights set on battalion chief, and Kelly vacillated between becoming the fire commissioner or riding out his career as a captain. Someday, they both wanted to have families – the kind of real families their parents couldn’t give them, with two married parents and happy, healthy kids. Someday, they would meet the women who would support them in those dreams – and because they were decent people, they would be loyal to those women for the rest of their lives. Someday, they would have to grow up and stop taking comfort in each other’s arms. And someday, Matt had to tell Kelly he’d taken the first steps to set “someday” in motion. Since it had now been 13 days since he took the Lieutenant’s test, that someday should probably be soon.  Maybe I failed, he hoped, rolling out of bed. That would, undoubtedly, be the best-case scenario. Four months ago, when the battalion chief and his lieutenant talked him into signing up for the test that had just been announced, he thought he had plenty of time to talk to Kelly. But it turned out not to matter how much time he had – starting that conversation didn’t get any easier, and it wasn’t going to happen on its own. Years ago, when they agreed that their romantic and sexual relationship would end when one of them made lieutenant, that day seemed a long way off. Neither of them thought a promotion would happen so soon. And, Matt reminded himself each time he felt guilty, it could still be a long way off. He didn’t know if he passed, and even if he did, some people waited years for their transfer to come through. Still, he should have talked to Kelly before the test, and he couldn’t put it off anymore. It wouldn’t be right to have a conversation like that right before their shift, but he would do it the minute they got home. He’d spent plenty of time over the past few months thinking about what he would say if he had the nerve to initiate the conversation. During his jog that morning, he nailed down the phrasing. 
If we’re sure this is still what we want, I think we should stop having sex once I start at my new firehouse, like we always said we would when one of us gets promoted. I’ll rent a place in that neighborhood, and you can stay here. I’ll cover my part of the rent until you find a new roommate.

It sucks that it has to be this way, but we’ve always said we’ll still be friends, and I’m counting on that. This feels like the most natural way to make that transition.

But if we change our minds, I can turn down the promotion, or we can take the risk of continuing to be together in secret. We can always change the plan. 
He didn’t know if he would say that last part out loud or not. When Matt got home from his run, Kelly was just coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. That was usually one of Matt’s favorite sights, but that morning, all it gave him was a pang of grief. “Hey, angel. You were up early this morning.” Ducking his head, Matt forced a smile. “Yeah, I wanted to get a run in before shift.” Kelly leaned in for a kiss as he walked past, and Matt willed his muscles not to stiffen. “I love you,” Kelly smiled, affectionately squeezing Matt’s arms before he let him go. “I love you too,” Matt answered, wishing those words had more power than they did. If he found out he failed the test, maybe he wouldn’t have to tell Kelly at all. Standing under the lukewarm water of the shower, he indulged in envisioning that possibility for a while. They were happy now. Maybe they could continue being happy, their love for each other outweighing their unfulfilled dreams. The problem was… they could only continue as they were. Together, there would be no promotions, no marriage, and no kids – things they both deeply wanted. Nobody in the CFD could know they were together, and that meant telling nobody at all. It would just be the two of them, harboring a secret from all of their friends, unable to let their guard down and let anyone else in. Yes, they were happy now, but Matt didn’t know if that happiness was enough for either one of them long-term. Once he got dressed, he wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee. Standing at the counter with a bowl of cereal, Kelly lifted his eyebrows in greeting, but said nothing. Matt nodded back at him and turned to pour himself a mug of coffee for the road. “What’s on your mind, babe?” Kelly asked after a minute or two of silence. Matt shrugged. “Nothing important.” Kelly raised his eyebrows. “Really? Because you’ve been acting weird, and your voice just sounded the way it does when you pretend you’re fine after a bad call. What’s wrong, sub?” Instead of the euphoria he usually felt when Kelly called him ‘sub,’ Matt bristled. He loved being dommed in the bedroom and everyday life, but he didn’t appreciate it when Kelly tried to control moments like this. “We need to get to shift,” he said firmly, making sure the coffee pot was off before they left. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” “So there is something to talk about?” Kelly pressed. If he told Kelly anything now, he wouldn’t rest until he had the whole story – even if that meant arguing through their shift. It was time to come clean, but it wasn’t a conversation to have before spending 24 hours in close quarters with 15 nosy firefighters. He would tell Kelly everything – as soon as they got home. “No,” he said. “But we can talk about your perception that there’s something we need to talk about after our shift, if you want.” “What does that even mean?” Kelly asked with poorly-concealed annoyance. Shrugging again, Matt stepped into his shoes and picked up his wallet and keys from the table by the door. “Nothing’s wrong, Kelly. But if you think we need to talk, we can talk – after work.” When Matt walked into the morning briefing, he stood at the back of the room instead of taking his usual seat with Severide and Darden. Andy turned in his chair to give him a look that asked “what are you doing?”, but Kelly kept his eyes forward and his shoulders stiffened.Chewing his bottom lip, Matt crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. He should have talked to Kelly that morning – or better yet, four months ago. Now he was going to spend 24 hours getting primed for a fight, making the conversation they needed to have tomorrow all the harder. Matt listened to the captain’s morning announcements with only half an ear, staring straight ahead at Kelly’s shoulder while Boden’s voice droned on. “And now, Lieutenant Dabrowski has an announcement,” Boden said, waving the Truck Lieutenant to the front of the room. That was unusual – the lieutenants usually sat back and let the captain make all the announcements in these meetings. Matt’s eyes snapped to his mentor’s face. Lt. Dabrowski usually looked stern, but that morning, his expression was downright grim. “Good morning,” the lieutenant said gruffly. “Captain Boden kindly allowed me to be the one to make this announcement. A few days ago, I had a biopsy, and the results just came back. I have mesothelioma.” The room erupted into chaos, with multiple crew members swearing at the news. Matt said nothing, but he lifted both hands to cover his mouth. They all knew the job came with a high risk of cancer, but among all the risks they faced, this wasn’t one they often thought of. Once the noise faded, Dabrowski continued, “After speaking with my doctors and my union rep, I’ve decided to retire, effective immediately. This will be my last shift.” Voices started to rise again, but Dabrowski motioned for them to stop. “I’m not throwing in the towel. I’m going to fight this thing, and that means I’m going to go all-in. I’m retiring from the CFD so I can focus all of my energy on fighting this cancer, spending as much time as I can with my wife and kids. The doctors tell me it isn’t curable, but with treatment, I have some good years left. I’m just not going to waste them babysitting your scrawny asses.” A few people chuckled, and Matt felt his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “On a more pleasant note, the brass informed us this morning that my replacement as Lieutenant of Truck 81 is someone we all know well. Congratulations, Lieutenant Matthew Casey.” 
What?! 
Matt’s ears started to ring, and he covered his mouth with his hand again. While that news blew over him like a category five storm, all the emotion in the room turned to face him at once. Well – except for the one person whose feelings mattered most.  “What!?” Andy echoed Matt’s thoughts aloud. “Congratulations!” Herrmann grinned, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “You took the Lieutenant’s test?” Mouch asked. Their voices faded out as Kelly stood from his chair, his face as hard as stone. Holding his breath, Matt watched his boyfriend walk from the room without so much as a glance in his direction. Just in case that message wasn’t clear enough, he slammed the door of the briefing room on his way out. Slowly exhaling, Matt tore his eyes from the window and returned his attention to the 30 odd eyes laser-focused on him. He was supposed to say something now. Shaking his head, he quickly tried to gather his thoughts. “Wow,” he began, honestly expressing his shock. “This is a lot to take in – for all of us. Lt. Dabrowski, anything we can do to support you and your family through this, Firehouse 51 will always show up for you.” Boden waved for him to continue, and Matt nervously cleared his throat. “And, well, I never expected to become Lieutenant of Truck 81, but… this is an honor.” It was anything but. More like a curse. His carefully thought-out plan for breaking up with Kelly and remaining friends depended entirely on being transferred to a different firehouse. This blew all that to Hell… but he hardly had a right to focus on that at the moment, in the wake of his lieutenant’s cancer news. “I know everyone is reeling at this news, but, uh, I promise I’ll give you my best as your lieutenant, and I know we’ll continue to make Lt. Dabrowski proud.” The 24 hours following Lt. Dabrowski’s announcement were among the longest of Matt’s life. Both Kelly and Andy avoided him throughout the shift. Even when they were assigned to sweep an empty office building with an automatic fire alarm going off, Andy refused to speak to Matt at all. “Darden,” Matt sighed, holding the door to the stairwell on their way out. “Come on, man. I had no idea this was coming. My plan was to tell you all once I found out whether I passed the test, then eventually transfer out to another house. I thought it would take months.” Andy reached for his radio. “Fourth floor, all clear. Lieutenant Casey and I are heading out.” They descended the stairs in frustrated silence, Matt no longer in the mood to waste his breath. Kelly had a right to be angry about this – Darden didn’t have a leg to stand on. The rest of their shift went pretty much the same way. Matt spent most of it inspecting and cleaning Truck 81’s turnout gear in the app bay while Squad 3 did drills on the apron. Despite his best efforts to make eye contact with his boyfriend, Kelly managed to avoid so much as glancing in his direction. In the locker room at the end of their shift, Matt finally cornered him. “Hey, are you coming home?” Kelly pulled his Squad 3 t-shirt back down over his torso and slammed his locker shut, not waiting to change his clothes. “Yeah,” he said sharply. “We need to talk. I’ll see you there.” Kelly stormed out of the locker room, leaving a trail of gaping firefighters in his wake. Sighing, Matt went to his own locker and slowly started to change. “How does it feel, Lieutenant?” Herrmann asked, sitting down on the bench behind him. Matt glanced around, but nobody else’s attention was on him. Most of the crew was gathered around Dabrowski at the other end of the row. “Shocking,” he confessed, sinking down onto the bench beside his friend. “I didn’t even know I passed the test, and I never thought I’d be assigned to this house. And Dabrowski’s news – wow.” Herrmann nodded. “I know.” “I know one thing for sure – I’ll need a drink tonight.” When Matt got home, he found Kelly in his room, furiously stuffing clothes into his duffel bag. “Kelly,” Matt said evenly, leaning against the bedroom door. “Lieutenant,” Kelly snapped. “Kelly, please stop that and look at me.” “Why?” Kelly asked, complying nonetheless. He stepped back from the bag and looked Matt in the eye. “You’re about to break up with me, right? So I need to pack.” “No,” Matt blurted out. “I – I want to talk to you. This promotion came as a surprise to me too, and I… Well, I just want to talk to you about it.” “Are you going to turn it down?” Kelly asked. Matt hesitated. “Do you want me to?” Kelly’s fists clenched at his sides, but he slowly shook his head. “You did take the Lieutenant’s test two weeks ago, right? This isn’t meritorious?” Cringing, Matt nodded. “Yes.” “Then no,” Kelly answered, turning back to his closet. “You made your decision.” “We don’t have to break up,” Matt offered. “Nobody knows we’re dating… It can stay that way. For as long as we want it to.” Kelly shook his head, taking two more t-shirts from the closet. “How long ago did you decide to take the test?” Matt rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing he could lie. “I signed up for it a few days after it was announced… but honestly, I thought about withdrawing up until the day of the test. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.” Kelly rolled up the shirts and tucked them into the corners of his bag, then went to the top drawer of his dresser. “Look, I know what we’ve said in the past, but we don’t have to make any big decisions today,” Matt emphasized, despite his well thought-out plan. “We can take some time, think things over…” Leaving a fistful of boxers on the dresser, Kelly finally turned to face him again. “Are you ready to give up what you want most in life for what we have right now? A wife, kids, more promotions? Do you want to sacrifice all of that to be with me, Matt?” Matt cringed. “I want that, yes. With my whole heart.” “But that’s not the choice either of us is going to make,” Kelly completed the thought. “Still – it doesn’t have to be today.” Kelly shook his head. “Yeah, Matt, it kind of does.” “Where are you even going to go?” Matt asked. “You don’t have to move out just because we break up – you have your bedroom, and I have mine.” “How’s that going to work?” Kelly scoffed. “Do you think we can be roommates, Casey?” Matt fell silent. “Just go,” Kelly said. “Spend the day anywhere but here. Darden’s going to come over with some boxes and help me move.” “Wait, where are you going to move on one day’s notice? Do you need to borrow my truck?” “Matt, you’re breaking up with me, remember?” His already-shattered heart somehow managing to crumble even more, Matt nodded. “Look,” Kelly said, visibly struggling to contain his temper. “I – I know you have this dream of us – of us being best friends someday. Raising two perfect little families behind white picket fences, working alongside each other on calls, maybe some backyard barbecues. But – I’m not wired like you. I can’t just flip a switch and go from loving you and believing you loved me, to…” He trailed off for a few seconds, then furiously shook his head. “I just need time. Let me have it.” “I do love you,” Matt said meekly, looking down at the floor. He wanted to ask for one last kiss, but it was obvious that Kelly wasn’t in the mood. “If the world was even a little bit better, Kelly…” With his lips pursed and his chin jutting out, Kelly nodded. “I know. But that only makes this harder. So please… just go.” Tears blinded Matt’s vision by the time he reached the door. Eleven days after the break-up, Matt couldn’t have been less excited to get up for his shift. He stayed under the covers as long as possible, only getting up when his alarm clock went off for the third time. Another day as Lieutenant of Truck 81 was worse than any nightmare his sleeping mind could conjure. He slowly shuffled down the hall to the bathroom, where he got ready for his shift with the door wide open. He hadn’t even started to look for a new roommate, so privacy wasn’t much of an issue. Even skipping breakfast for the 12th day in a row, he barely made it out the door in time for his shift. He didn’t usually have to shave before work, but he’d let it go for too many days, and it took time to find an unwrinkled shirt in the dryer. He meant to fold that laundry in between shifts, but once he sat down on the couch with his 12-pack, he didn’t get back up until he went to bed. Kelly was running late that morning, too, apparently. When Matt parked his truck outside the firehouse, his ex was getting out of the passenger’s seat of an unfamiliar car. By the time Matt got out of his truck, both Kelly and the driver – a tall, slender woman with long light brown hair – stood on the sidewalk, locked in a kiss. Matt locked his truck and waited by the door, letting them finish before he walked past. Kelly made eye contact with him while he stood there, then wrapped his arm around the woman’s back and dipped her for a second kiss. Rolling his eyes, Matt glanced down at his watch. If Kelly intended for this display to get to him, it was right on the mark. They said they were going to move on, but Matt didn’t think it would happen so fast. He hadn’t even considered going on a date. Seeing Kelly with someone else didn’t sting the way he expected – he was far too numb for that. But the sidewalk performance was clearly staged to rub it in, and that display of immaturity pissed him off. Only when members of 1st Shift started walking outside did Kelly and his new friend come up for air. Thankful he was already dressed for his shift and could go straight into roll call, Matt followed Kelly inside. “Moving on, right?” Kelly quipped, holding the door. Matt raised his eyebrows. “Right.” The day only went downhill from there. Despite being on board with Matt’s promotion at first, his crew on Truck 81 got frostier with each passing shift. Unfortunately, the root of the problem was Andy Darden. Around the firehouse and on calls, Andy took every opportunity he could find to be insubordinate, and the rest of Truck 81 followed suit. Only Darden knew why they were hazing the lieutenant, but within days after the announcement, everyone on Truck was aboard that bandwagon and rolling full steam ahead. On the evening of that shift, they were called to three back-to-back vehicle accidents without stepping foot in the station. During the first two, Matt’s crew followed his orders with some good-natured backtalk, so he let it go. The most efficient way to end firehouse hazing was to refuse to react. Firefighters, like children, easily got bored. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the third call wasn’t so straightforward. A panicking teenager accelerated instead of hitting the brake at a five-way intersection, pushing a truck making a left turn into the path of a sedan going straight. The sedan then swerved into an SUV that was turning right on red, and the SUV took out the crosswalk signal. By the time Truck 81 wrapped up their previous call, the rest of their house was already on the scene. The battalion chief ordered them to extract the passenger pinned inside the SUV, who didn’t seem to have any serious injuries. Matt started giving orders while they unloaded from the truck. “Mouch, grab the jaws. Herrmann, check in with the medics and make sure they’ve assessed the victim before we move her. Coleman, pop the hood of the SUV and make sure we aren’t going to have any problems. Darden, you’re with me.” “Sure thing, Candidate – I mean Lieutenant,” Herrmann said, flashing Matt a friendly grin. Shaking his head, Matt ignored the joke and went to assess the situation. “It looks like a straightforward extraction,” he told Andy. “We just need to cut the bottom of the pole, move that out of the way, and get the door open with the jaws. Can you go grab the saw?” Already two literal steps ahead of him, Darden stopped, turned to face him, and said, “Yeah, I’ve been doing this for exactly as long as you have. I know what we need, thanks.” “That’s why I didn’t tell you which one,” Matt snapped. “But I can get a lot more specific if you need me to.” When Andy didn’t immediately move, he added, “The victim is waiting, Darden.” “Yes, sir,” Andy said with all the disgust those words could carry. While he went to get the saw, Matt talked to the passenger still inside the SUV. Someone had already broken the window and cleared most of the glass around the edges, but he picked a few more jagged pieces out while they spoke. “Lieutenant, huh?” the victim said. “You look pretty young to be a lieutenant. Is this your first day or something?” Internally cringing, Matt forced a smile. “Not quite. Lucky genes, I guess.” It was actually his third shift, but it felt like he’d been trapped in this endless loop of obnoxious jokes and lonely nights for months. His crew continued to tease him while they got the victim out, and by the time she was strapped to a gurney, even she was calling him “Candidate.” “Lieutenant Casey,” the battalion chief barked while they swept up glass after the cars were towed away. “Put the broom down and come here.” Matt started to hand his broom to the person standing behind him, but then he realized it was Darden. Sighing, he literally put the broom down on the ground and walked over to his chief. “Yes, Chief?” “You need to get your men in line. Letting them be insubordinate in front of the public sets a bad image for the CFD. I don’t care how you handle the issue at the firehouse, but in front of victims and bystanders, they are to treat you with the respect that bugle on your collar deserves, or you need to write them up for insubordination. Understood?” Matt’s stomach sank, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, Chief. I’m sorry about this call.” The battalion chief shook his head. “I think your vic found it funny today, but a lot of them won’t. In the most terrifying moments of people’s lives, they need to trust that the officers making life-or-death decisions for them and their family members are competent. Imagine if the mother of that girl had been standing on the sidewalk to hear those comments. That doesn’t exactly build trust between the CFD and the public, and that’s a thing we sorely need to repair.” Matt nodded again, feeling slightly more confident. He could reason with Herrmann, Mouch, and Coleman with that approach – and Darden would eventually come around. “Yes, Chief. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me about this. I promise, I’ll fix the problem.” “Don’t be afraid to write people up as part of that solution,” the chief advised him. “I won’t do it for you because I want to let you make the call, but for what it’s worth, I think Darden needs to be suspended.”  Matt cringed. He would not, under any circumstances, be doing that. He wanted to see his 17-month-old godson again before the kid turned two, and Heather wouldn’t even let him sneak visits behind Andy’s back if he suspended her husband without pay. “I appreciate the advice, sir.” “Back to work, Casey. But no more sweeping up glass. It’s a good move when your crew respects your leadership, but you’re not there yet.” Glancing at the other officers on the scene, Matt tried to figure out what else there was to do other than work alongside his men. He picked up the broom he’d been using and put it away, then stood to the side and watched his crew work. He overheard the other two lieutenants micromanaging their crews, but he figured Andy hated him enough – he didn’t need to make it worse by telling him how to use a broom.Even if he was completely – and purposely – missing a huge piece of glass in the middle of the road. Matt wasn’t going to suspend his best friend, but they definitely needed to talk. Back at the firehouse, Matt tried three times to talk to Darden. All three times, he ignored him and kept walking, pretending not to hear Matt speak. On the third attempt, on their way into the locker room, Matt’s patience ran out. “Andy,” Matt said firmly, holding an arm out to block his path. “Hey, Darden, talk to me.” “Yes, Lieutenant?” Andy asked frostily. Matt sighed. “Can we talk? As friends? Please?” Andy glanced around, but nobody else was nearby. Because Engine and Squad didn't waste time fighting over who had to pick up the last piece of glass, they made it back to the firehouse long before them and were back in their seats around the television in the common room (Engine) and the ratty old card table in the app bay (Squad). The rest of Truck were already in the showers. “What do you want to talk about, Matt? The way you lied to my best friend for months and basically obliterated his heart?” “It didn’t seem too ‘obliterated’ when he was sucking some girl’s face off on the sidewalk this morning,” Matt snapped. “I think he’s over it. Why aren’t you?” Andy shook his head. “You’re a goddamn idiot.” “And you’re going to get yourself suspended,” Matt said. Throwing in a white lie to flavor the truth, he added, “I had to talk the battalion chief out of suspending you for insubordination after that call. He wanted to, and I don’t want that to happen to you.” Darden scoffed. “Insubordination? Really? We were candidates together like five minutes ago.” “And now I’m your Lieutenant. It isn’t what either of us expected, but I am, and at least in public, my rank deserves respect. Can you handle that?” Darden gave a slight nod, barely moving his head. “Yes, Lieutenant.” Overcome with a feeling that this was a pivotal moment, Matt put a hand on Andy’s shoulder. “Andy, I’m really asking. Me being Lieutenant of Truck 81 – can you handle that?” Andy hesitated. “Are you going to transfer me out of the house if I say no?” Biting his lip, Matt shook his head. “No.” Andy measured him up for a long moment, then nodded to himself as if making a decision. “No.” Matt slowly exhaled, blowing air from his lips with enough force that he almost whistled. “Okay. Thanks for being honest with me. Um – you’re dismissed, I guess.” “What are you going to do?” Darden asked. Forcing a smile, Matt stepped back to let him walk past. “Don’t worry about it. Your job is safe, and you aren’t going to be suspended.” Andy started to walk through the door, but then he hesitated and turned back to Matt. “Heather told me to ask if you can babysit Ben on Saturday so we can go on our monthly date night. I know I’ve been treating you like shit, but…” “Yes,” Matt said immediately. He needed some Ben time. “What about Griffin?” Andy cringed. “Uh, we were going to send Griffin to spend the night with Sev and have you spend the evening at our place with just Ben. I know they’re a lot for just one person, and it’s usually both of you when you have them both.” “We have split custody of our godsons,” Matt realized. For some reason, that realization made him smile. “That… That makes sense. Do you think we could trade off? I know Griffin’s Kelly’s godson and Ben is mine, but…” Andy nodded. “I’m sure Heather would love for you to take Griffin for a few hours any time you want. The kid needs Ritalin or something, but she won’t hear it.” “I think maybe he gets that from someone,” Matt teased, not for the first time. Smiling wryly, Andy nodded. “Touché.” The next morning, Matt knocked on the door of Captain Boden’s office with a folded-up pink slip in his hand. “Who is it?” Boden asked before giving permission to enter. “Casey,” Matt answered, resting his hand on the doorknob but not turning it yet. “Come on in.” Matt opened the door and walked inside without hesitation. He knew what he needed to do – exactly what he planned to do all along. “I need to give you this transfer request, Captain,” he said, handing it over. “I’m asking the brass to assign a new officer to Truck 81 and let me take a relief assignment for a Truck lieutenant who’s out for six months on medical. I have it all worked out.” His mouth stretched thin in a frown, Boden put the paper on his desk and leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him.  “Why, Matt?” “I can’t learn how to be an officer in the house I came up in. I’m so appreciative of the opportunity to stay here, but I – well, I love the people in this house enough to recognize that I’m not the leader they need. You saw what a mess we were today, and based on my conversations with my men, I don’t think it’s going to get better. Please let me start being a leader by making this call.” “You’re wrong,” Boden declared. “I understand that it’s not easy, going from candidate to colleague to boss in such a short time. But you wouldn’t have gotten this promotion if you weren’t up to the task.” Matt nodded slightly. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, sir. I know I can be a good officer, if I get the chance. But I won’t put my crew’s lives or their careers at risk to prove that point. Whether they like me right now or not, those men are my family.” “That’s exactly why you should stay,” Boden said. “No other officer is going to take care of this family the way you will.” Frustration bubbled up in Matt’s chest. Taking a breath before he spoke, he made sure none of that leaked through in his voice. “I hear you, Captain. But I need you to hear me.” Raising his eyebrows, Boden gave a slight nod. “I never asked to be the Lieutenant of Truck 81, and if anyone had asked, I would have respectfully and gratefully declined.” He paused just long enough to let his words sink in, but didn’t give the captain time to respond. “I know what I’m doing by submitting this request, and my mind is made up. I’d like to work relief assignments and see how other firehouses are doing things, spread my wings a little while I figure out where I want to land. But if you’re really not willing to let me leave 51, I’ll step down from being an officer instead.” Boden sighed, shaking his head. “We can’t have that. We’ll have to get the chief’s rubber stamp, but if you’re certain this is the path you want to take, I’m not going to hold you back.” “Thank you, Captain,” Matt said, his eyes welling with tears he hurriedly blinked away. “It’s been a privilege to work alongside you these past few years.” Boden nodded shortly. “I hope we get to do so again… once you’ve spread your wings.” Matt’s smile was the first to reach his heart in about 13 days. “Thanks, sir. Me, too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Jeff spent most of Tuesday afternoon trying to psych himself up for his evening plans. Joining Shay for happy hour drinks at a lesbian bar sounded like fun when he agreed to it, but that was five whole days ago. The Jeff who said “yes” to those plans had no idea how badly present-day Jeff would want to curl up on his couch with a book and stay there all night. That had nothing to do with his feelings about Shay; she was one of his favorite people to hang out with. He just had a bad habit of forgetting his own introversion when making plans, and this plan made him feel particularly awkward. He only agreed to it because Shay needed someone to help her navigate the bar in her wheelchair, and she shot down his semi-serious suggestion of asking Allison Rafferty. Around 3:00, he rallied, put down his book, and went to change his clothes. He wasn’t sure what to wear to a lesbian bar – he definitely didn’t need to worry about impressing anyone, but he also didn’t want to make it look like Shay hung out with a slob. He briefly considered texting her to ask what she thought he should wear, but she would tease him more than the answer was worth. It wasn’t like he had many choices, when it came down to it. Hoodies, t-shirts, and CFD polo shirts were out, so that pretty much left an assortment of black and green henleys, sweaters, and button-downs. In the end, he went with his brown leather jacket over a lightweight black sweater – a solid wingman look, good for blending into the background with his beer until Shay gave him the signal. Once dressed, he drove to Shay’s house to pick her up. She stayed there by herself during Dawson’s shifts now that she no longer needed help with her daily needs, but more often than not, Jeff ended up hanging out with her for part of the day. He suspected that she missed spending ⅓ of her days at a busy firehouse just as much as the job itself. Nobody would ever accuse her of being an introvert. It took almost a minute after Jeff rang the doorbell before Shay opened the door. When she did, it was with her hair up in a messy ponytail and her face so pale it almost looked green. She didn't exactly look ready to go out. “Hey,” she greeted him, rolling her chair back from the doorway to let him in. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it another migraine?” She’d been plagued with migraines since her TBI, but he thought they were starting to go away. Wincing, Shay shook her head, then slapped both hands over her mouth. Frantically looking for something she could throw up in, Jeff grabbed the plastic wastebasket from the foyer and held it out. “No,” she objected, roughly pushing it away. “I’m good, I’m not gonna barf. I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” Reaching for the basket, she shook her head. “No.” “Do you need an Excedrin?” he offered. “It’s not a migraine,” she explained. “I just feel a little bit sick to my stomach.” “Okay,” he said. “Do you need a mint, glass of water, anything?” “No,” she said, holding the wastebasket close. “I think I just need to take a nap instead of going out tonight… I’m sorry.” “That’s fine,” he said. “Do you need any help getting into bed?” “No,” she declined. “Sorry you had to drive all the way over here. I was going to text you, but I fell asleep in the recliner watching TV.” He could hear the Law and Order theme playing on the TV in the living room. He’d never known Shay to watch that when she wasn’t sick. “No problem,” he assured her. He wasn’t happy Shay was sick, but he didn’t mind the canceled plans. “Do you want me to hang out in case you need anything, since Gabby’s on shift? I have a book in my car, and your couch is nicer than mine.” Smiling miserably, Shay nodded. “Yeah, okay. Maybe if I feel better after a nap, we can order take-out and watch a movie.” “Sure,” he agreed. “Are there any movies you’ve been wanting to see?” “Not really. Why don’t you scroll through Netflix and see if there are any ridiculous survivalist movies we can make fun of together? The worse, the better.” That was one of the handful of activities Kelly, Matt, Shay, Dawson, Mills, and Jeff all enjoyed outside of drinking beer and fighting fire, so it was a staple in their friend group. All around, it was shaping up to be a much better evening for Jeff than happy hour at a lesbian bar, but he felt appropriately guilty for thinking so. “Deal.” As soon as they arrived at the scene of the warehouse fire, Chief Boden ordered Squad 3 inside to look for the two missing crewmen from Truck 65, while Truck 81 walked the perimeter to listen for the civilians. It didn’t take long for Kelly, Cruz, and Welch to come across the two firefighters, who were already inching their way towards the door they came in. “Hey!” Kelly called out, crouching down to check on them. Neither appeared to be seriously injured, just disoriented and out of air. “Where are the civilians?” “Further in!” one of them yelled, pointing back the way they came. “We’ve got them!” Welch assured him, flashing a thumb’s up. “Cruz?” Kelly quickly checked. It was his first call, so he wanted to make sure he was okay with being on his own with Welch. “Yeah! Got him!” Cruz agreed, already reaching for the second firefighter. “Okay, get them out of here, get them on air,” Kelly ordered, swapping out the firefighter he was holding onto for the hose line on Welch’s shoulder. “Copy!” Cruz and Welch echoed. “Squad’s coming out with two firefighters,” he reported over the radio, continuing in the direction the guys from 65 pointed. The warehouse was completely engulfed – it was no wonder the Truck guys got lost. Following an interior wall, Kelly made his way in a relatively straight line towards the back of the building, but even with his thermal camera, he wasn’t finding any sign of the civilians. Then he heard a sound no firefighter wants to hear – a PASS alarm going off. “Shit,” he groaned. Everyone from Truck 65 was out, so that had to be one of his people. He hurried toward the sound, then broke into a run when he recognized the tiny firefighter pulling a body across the floor. “Shit, Dawson!” he yelled, kneeling to check on her while she gasped for air. She wasn’t even wearing a mask, so it was a miracle she was still breathing at all. “What the hell are you doing?” “This guy’s unconscious,” Dawson gasped. Kelly quickly unbuckled his SCBA mask and passed it to her, then reached over to check the victim’s pulse. “He’s not unconscious, Dawson; he’s dead,” he informed her. It was a great effort, but under these circumstances, he was just glad she wasn’t dead. “No, no, he was breathing,” Dawson said, passing his mask back after a few deep breaths. “He’s gone, Dawson,” he said firmly. “Come on, you tried your best. Let’s go.” He finished unhooking Dawson’s webbing from the victim, then slipped his mask back on. Dawson lay frozen staring at the body until he reached down and shook her arm. “Get up! Come on!” He understood that it went against her instincts to leave a victim behind – it felt wrong to him, too. But he wouldn’t let her risk her life to save a body, especially with Shay depending on her to come home. He tugged on the back of her turnout coat, and she finally rose to her hands and knees to follow him back down the hall. She was already tired and breathing in toxic smoke, so he kept an arm around her waist in case she fell behind. She rallied, though, pushing herself to her feet and staying right at his hip. For a few seconds, he thought they were in the clear – but then a series of loud bangs shattered that illusion. Pipes and ceiling tiles started to fall in front of them and flames billowed at both ends of the hall, just as the warning on his SCBA started to beep. “In here,” he said, spotting a room with a hint of sunlight through the window. Grabbing Dawson’s arm, he guided her through the doorway to relative safety, then took his halligan to the window. “Damn it,” he muttered, realizing he couldn’t break the metal cage covering the glass with just his halligan. His people could get to it from outside if they figured out where they were, but he wasn’t going to get it open on his own. He turned back to Dawson, who lay coughing on the ground, and gave her another turn with the mask. She got a few deep breaths, during which he discovered how truly vile the so-called room air she’d been breathing was, and then he heard another deeply hated alarm – his air tank was empty now, too. 
Damn. 
“You’re out of air,” she said. Looking back towards the window, he tried to figure out how to signal his location to his men. All the windows in the warehouse pretty much looked the same, and he wasn’t sure what room they were in. Dawson held the end of the hose up between them. “What do you think?” “It won’t give us enough water to get out of here,” he advised her, idly wondering if Casey taught her anything that year. “Yeah, but we can get some air with it, right?” she countered.  Sorry, Matt, I take it back.  He nodded, hoping she couldn’t see the worry in his eyes. “Yeah.” They huddled together beneath the window and opened up the hose, hoping rescue would come soon. He tried reporting their position on his radio, but if the chiefs could hear him, he wasn’t reading their response. These old warehouses were terrible for that. If he survived this, HQ would definitely be getting another request for upgraded equipment. After less than a minute, the opposite of help arrived – the flow of water to their hose suddenly stopped. “Hey!” he yelled into the universe at first, then grabbed his radio. “Hey! Hey!”  The water completely died off, and Kelly groaned with frustration. “Ah! They think we’re cooked.” Hacking her lungs out on the ground, Dawson nodded. “I’m sorry.” Kelly shook his head, reaching over to grip her arm through her turnout coat. “Hey,” he whispered, pulling her closer. “Don’t. Don’t go there. It’s not your fault.” “Shay…” she whispered, her brown eyes filling with tears. Steadily meeting the young candidate’s eyes, Kelly didn’t allow himself to flinch. “It’s going to suck if we don’t make it out, but she’ll be okay. Clarke, and the rest of 51 — they’ll take care of her for us.” “Casey, too,” Dawson said, squeezing his arm in return. Swallowing his horror, Kelly forced himself to nod. “Yeah. Yeah.” There was no way Matt would survive this. But the candidate didn’t need to think about that right now. Kelly didn’t allow himself to dwell on that heartbreak, either, even as it fought to consume him. Years of training went toe to toe with human instinct as the air grew thinner and the heat warmed his body through his gear. He was terrified, but in this situation, fear did him no good. Gabby was almost crying with terror, so Kelly forced himself to stay calm. He breathed steadily in and out, even as the smoke burned his lungs. A coughing fit overtook him, and Dawson tightly squeezed his arm. When he could speak again, he said, as calmly as he could, “Activate your PASS alarm. They’re going to come for us.” What was it he said to Jeff the other day? “I’m not taking unnecessary risks, I’m just doing the job I’ve been doing my whole life.” That held true this time, too. What more could he possibly have done? Okay, maybe he should have brought a second member of Squad with him in search of the civilians, but that would just be one more person dying on this floor. Another person trapped in this maze of a warehouse wouldn’t magically create an escape route. At first, he didn’t know why he felt so much dread. He’d been in worse situations than this before. But then he realized the difference lay in who he could hope might come through the door. 
Matt isn’t coming this time. 
After fumbling in the smoke for a few seconds, he found Dawson’s gloved hand and squeezed it in his own. Gabby’s answering squeeze was nearly hard enough to break his fingers, but with flames roaring just feet away, he could hardly blame her. “They’re coming for us,” he repeated, reassuring himself as much as his friend. There was still no sign of movement at the window, but they were probably just seconds away. 
We have a whole family at Firehouse 51. It’s not just Matt.

They’ll come for us. 
After assuring himself that Shay made it safely into bed, Jeff retrieved his library book from the car and poured himself a single shot of tequila. Shay regularly helped herself to the contents of his refrigerator, so he was confident she wouldn’t mind. He grabbed the remote tucked into the seat of her recliner before plopping down on the couch. He was more in the mood for real-life law and order than the fictional kind, so he switched the channel to the local news. He wasn’t all that interested in local reporters’ opinions of world events, but it made good background noise while he read. Two pages into the second short story, a breaking news alert caught his attention. One of the industrial warehouses along the north branch of the river was on fire, and he recognized apparatus from both Battalions 25 and 26 in the background of the news videos. It had been a while since 1st Shift caught a multiple-alarm fire. He set his book aside and sat up to watch, a spark of envy igniting in his chest. Since he couldn’t get in on the action, he settled for trying to piece together what the crews on the scene were doing from the snippets of news video. The CFD hadn’t called in any Public Relations personnel, so the reporters had no more information than he could see for himself. In some ways, they knew less, since he knew how the incident commanders thought. For example, when he caught a glimpse of Squad 3 arriving at the scene, he knew someone was still trapped inside the building.  “Do you know if all your fellow workers got out?” one of the reporters was asking an evacuee just outside the police barricade.  “Nope,” Jeff answered for the worker, who began a rambling story about being on a bathroom break when the fire alarm went off. He never wanted Public Relations on the scene of his own calls, but it would sure be nice when he was piecing together the action from what he saw on TV. He didn’t want to be one of those guys who tuned into his radio off-shift, but in moments like this, he was tempted. The sound of Shay’s door opening caught him by surprise, and he quickly muted the TV. “Hey, sorry, did I wake you up?” he asked, realizing he’d been gradually increasing the volume, as though that would help him see what was happening. She didn’t answer, so he got up from the couch and walked towards her room in the back of the house. “Shay? You alright?” When he saw her, he ran the last few feet down the hallway. Instead of using her wheelchair, she was trying to walk by holding herself up against the wall. “Shay! What the hell are you doing?!” he asked, reaching out to take her hands. She generally only walked for exercise, using her wheelchair the rest of the time – and when she did walk, she used a walker, not a wall. Smacking his hands away, she nearly toppled over. He quickly grabbed her by the waist, holding her up against the wall. “Sorry,” he apologized, always reluctant to touch someone without permission. “What are you doing? Where’s your walker?” The right side of her face twitched, and instead of answering, she jerked her head in the direction of her bedroom. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Shay, can you look at me?” When she still didn’t respond, he cursed under his breath and wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist. “Here, let me help you get back to your room to sit down,” he said, trying to turn her in that direction. Her muscles stiffened, and she smacked his arm again. “Okay, we’ll go this way,” he acquiesced, uncertain if her actions were purposeful or a symptom of whatever medical emergency she was apparently having. “Can I carry you to the couch?” She didn’t hit him, so he took that for consent. She didn’t wrap her arm around his neck the way she usually did when he picked her up, though, making it much more awkward to carry her down the hall. He had to carry her like an unconscious victim, despite the fact that she was wide awake and staring straight ahead. “Are you having a stroke?” he asked rhetorically. That didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t come up with any other explanation for her behavior. She didn’t answer, but she was still breathing, and he couldn’t see any immediate signs of distress. “Giving me the silent treatment, huh?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light. He carefully laid her on the couch, then used pillows to prop her up on her left side. “Okay, I won’t hold that against you. It seemed worth a try, though. You’re one of the best medics I’ve ever known, so I wouldn’t put it past you to diagnose yourself.” Smacking her lips together, she slapped her hand against the side of the couch. Not reacting to flattery, either. What the hell is going on?“Okay, I’m going to call an ambulance,” he narrated, retrieving his phone from the coffee table. Taking another look at Shay, he slid the table to the other side of the room so she wouldn’t hit it if she rolled off the couch. “Then I’m going to call Dawson… Hopefully she isn’t caught up in that mess for too long and can come meet us. I’m sure everything will be okay.” Keeping one hand on Shay’s shoulder in case she tried to move, Jeff dialed 911 and put the phone on speaker. “This is Lt. Jeff Clarke, off-duty CFD badge number 7932,” he identified himself, speaking as slowly as he could to offset his nerves. “I need an ambulance at 504 W. Tripp Avenue. I have a 36-year-old female with sudden-onset cognitive changes and… I’m not really sure what’s going on, but it might be a stroke. She has a history of TBI and a spinal cord injury.” “I’m dispatching an ambulance,” the operator answered. “What are the patient’s symptoms?” “Um, she was complaining of nausea earlier in the afternoon, so she went to take a nap. She woke up a few minutes ago and tried to walk out of her room without her wheelchair or walker, which she knows she can’t do, and she isn’t talking or seeming to hear anything I say.” “Where is she now? Can you get her safely to the floor or a chair?” “I carried her to the couch and positioned her on her left side,” he explained. “Okay, that’s great. Try to keep her there until the medics arrive. Does the patient often forget or try to go without her assistive devices?” “No,” he said. “She isn’t usually forgetful. The TBI was about a year ago, and she’s mostly recovered. She doesn’t have any memory issues. But she hasn’t said anything since she woke up.” “Is she able to follow instructions? Make eye contact?” “Um, not really,” he said. “She’s staring straight ahead, and she isn’t really responding to anything, except for when I reached for her and she tried to smack my hand away.” “Does she have any history of high blood pressure?” “Not that I know of,” Jeff said, feeling useless. “I doubt it.” “What about seizures? Any history of epilepsy, or anything after the TBI?” “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think they said she had a seizure the day of the TBI, but nothing since then.” “Okay, our ambulance crew should be with you in 7 to 10 minutes,” the operator informed him. “What’s the patient’s name?” “Leslie Shay,” Jeff answered. “Her medical power of attorneys are two firefighters who I think are on a call right now, but they’ll need to meet her at the hospital when they can. Can you have the dispatcher radio Battalion 25 and tell Chief Boden what’s happening?” “We can do that,” the operator agreed. “You keep a close eye on the patient, and if she comes out of the episode, make sure she stays still and doesn’t eat or drink anything until the medics arrive.” “Okay,” Jeff said absently, checking the pulse in Shay’s wrist even though he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. “Call 911 again if the patient’s condition changes,” the operator instructed, and the call disconnected. “Must be a busy day at the 911 center,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But that’s okay. We’ve got this, right?” Shay lifted her head to look him in the eye, then started trying to sit up. “Whoa,” he said, pressing on her shoulder to keep her from moving. “You need to stay on the couch for now. Do you understand?” “Yeah…” she said weakly, shaking her head. “What… What happened? How did I get in here?” “I’m not sure,” he answered. “Um, maybe if I tell you about it, you can tell me. I think maybe you had a seizure. There were no convulsions, but you were staring off into space and, um… maybe forgot you couldn’t walk?” Frowning, Shay tried again to sit up. “No… I don’t have seizures.” “Well… your guess is as good as mine. Probably better.” He wouldn’t argue with Shay on a good day, and this wasn’t turning out to be a good day. His heart was settling back into place in his chest now that Shay was responsive again, but now his hands were starting to shake. “I’m going to call Dawson,” he announced, unlocking his phone again. Shay quickly shook her head. “No, call Kelly first. He’ll keep Gabby from freaking out.” Jeff chuckled. “Yeah… you have a point.” With his hands bound with zip ties and a hood covering his face, Matt was hyper aware of every sound, lurch, and bump in the road. The van Nesbitt’s so-called “business partners” forced him into didn’t just suffer from rust on the back bumper – its brake pads needed replacing, and he was pretty sure the rotors were going bad. That wasn’t exactly helpful information, but it gave him something to focus on other than fear. Despite Nesbitt’s assurances that they just wanted to talk, there was no way this could end well. If Voight was right about even a fraction of his accusations, these incredibly dangerous people now knew for sure that he was working with the cops. Matt could talk his way out of a lot, but he couldn’t imagine that anything he said would make a difference here. He just hoped he could convince them that Katya wasn’t involved. Matt could hear her ragged breathing at his side, but other than that, she’d been silent since Nesbitt drew his gun. He wanted to do something to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure how closely they were being watched. They must have driven for at least half an hour, but based on their speed and the ambient noise, the van never left the city. At first, he tried to guess their location based on how many traffic lights they hit and how many turns they made, but after a while, there were too many variables. Either they’d driven halfway to the Indiana state line, or they were still circling the neighborhoods near Wicker Park. In the absence of any distinctive sounds outside the van, he had no way of knowing for sure. Finally, the van slowed to a near stop and then turned onto gravel. Matt braced himself, although he wasn’t sure for what. If he was on his own, he might try to fight his way past them and run, but that was too much of a risk to take with Katya’s life. The van stopped, and Matt felt it shift into park. Almost immediately, one of the front doors opened, and at least one of the men got out. Both Katya’s breathing and his own heartbeat quickened while they waited for the back door to open. Matt listened carefully to the footsteps in the gravel, determining that it was definitely still at least two people. “I’m sorry,” Katya whispered. “Don’t be,” Matt answered, leaning on his ‘Lieutenant Casey’ persona to project confidence he didn’t feel. “We’ll be okay.” The doors opened, and a hand roughly grabbed Matt’s upper arm. “Get out.” It was a voice he didn’t recognize – not Jack. Matt couldn’t be sure whether Nesbitt got in the van with them or not. If so, he hadn’t spoken a word since they left the church. Matt got out, managing not to trip on his way down. Katya, less experienced with climbing in and out of dark places, stumbled and bumped into him as she tried to follow. He couldn’t exactly reach out to catch her with his hands bound, but he kept his body close so she could lean against his shoulder. Matt didn’t speak while they were led inside. He thought about screaming for help on the off chance that someone might hear, but the men would probably shoot him before it could do any good. There were four stairs up to the door, which creaked like the hinges were about to rust off. Inside, the floor felt and sounded like tile or maybe fake hardwood, and Matt heard nothing but the breathing of the people around him and the distant hum of some sort of appliance. He was pretty sure they were inside a commercial building, probably one of the closed-down bars or restaurants they’d asked him to renovate.  It would be easier to give you an estimate without the bag, he thought about saying – but these other guys didn’t seem to share Nesbitt’s sense of humor. “In here,” one of the men directed, putting a hand on Matt’s back to push him through a doorway. His elbow bumped the doorframe, and then Katya walked into him as she followed him inside. “Sit down.” “Uh, where?” Matt asked, slowly stepping backwards to feel for any furniture. A hand grabbed his arm again, and then someone took away the hood covering his face. He was right – Nesbitt was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Jack?” he asked, locating the chairs but not yet moving to sit down. “Jack will be here. Sit down.”  Katya hurried to sit once her blindfold was removed, and Matt slowly followed. 
I have to do something. What the hell do I do? 
“Where are your phones?” “I left it in my car,” Matt lied, while Katya motioned to the pocket of her jeans. While one of the men took Katya’s phone and put it in his pocket, the other began roughly patting Matt down. Resisting the urge to kick him, he submitted, knowing they wouldn’t find anything of interest. The only things he had on him were his wallet and the keys to his truck. Unless they wanted to steal his credit cards or drive a truck with his name painted on the side, they were out of luck. “Make sure he didn’t leave it in the van,” that man told the other when he found Matt’s pockets empty. One of them left, and time seemed to freeze for a few seconds. This is my chance, Matt realized, glancing at the open door and then at Katya. It’s just one guy. I can do this.  Taking advantage of the opening, Matt jumped out of the chair, slamming his body full-force against the man with the gun.  “Run!” he told Katya, and to his relief, she didn’t hesitate. Matt couldn’t separate his zip-tied hands, but that didn’t make them useless. Swinging his arms upward, he succeeded in knocking the gun from the man’s grasp, then used his body weight to shove the man back against the wall. Katya disappeared down the hallway, and moments later, a door slammed. Matt wanted to follow her, but her best chance of survival relied on him to keep this guy occupied. The man fought back, first punching Matt in the gut and then taking a swing for his head. Matt dodged that blow and crouched low to the ground, focused primarily on keeping himself in between the man and his gun. As long as that stayed out of play, it was essentially an even fight. A round of gunfire outside the building sent a chill through Matt, but that didn’t stop the fight. Yelling in a language Matt didn’t recognize, the man tried to push past him again.  “No!” Matt screamed. Gathering his strength, he pushed the man backwards into the hall, well out of reach of the gun. Both of their bodies hit the drywall hard, and the other man didn’t immediately move. Scrambling to his feet, Matt took off running without looking back. He went in the opposite direction from the way they came in, looking for the front entrance. This was definitely a restaurant, so with any luck, they were on a commercial street.Bursting through the door into the dark, abandoned dining room, he found the front door and windows boarded up. That was nothing he couldn’t handle, so he continued across the room. Just as he got a grip on the first of the two boards nailed across the door, the door to the back of the restaurant opened again.  “HELP!” Matt screamed to anyone outside the restaurant, kicking the bottom of the door to make more noise while he pried the board away. “FIRE! CALL 911!”  “Really, Matt?” Matt flinched in recognition of Nesbitt’s wry, annoyed voice, but he was nowhere near ready to give in.  “FIRE!” he screamed again, successfully pulling one of the boards free but stumbling backwards in his success, knocking himself off balance. “FIRE! HELP! FIRE!”  Hearing Nesbitt’s footsteps at his back, he swung the 2x4 around, but he was too late. Something collided sharply with the back of Matt’s head, and he saw stars before the world went black.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

While Hallie parked her car on the street outside of the firehouse, Matt leaned across the center console to kiss her cheek. “Have a good day,” she instructed, shifting the car into park before returning his kiss. “Do you have plans for Friday night?” he asked. “Do you remember that cute peds nurse from my last sub-I, Bailey? Since I didn’t match at her hospital, I decided to ask her out. We’re getting drinks on Friday. Are you free Sunday night?” “That works,” Matt said agreeably. “Was Bailey the one with the bull ring in her nose?” Hallie rolled her eyes. “No, it was Courtney who had the septum piercing, Dad.”  Matt smirked. “She’s cool, but I’m not really that into her,” Hallie continued. “Bailey is the one with the gigantic poodle who comes in to visit the kids in the hospital sometimes.” “Are you dating that girl just to get close to her dog?” Matt asked, raising his eyebrow. Smiling mischievously, Hallie pulled Matt’s face close for another kiss. “Maybe.” “Well, if she’s interested in a threesome… tell her to leave the dog at home.” Hallie smacked his arm hard enough to hurt, even through his hoodie. Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, dragging her halfway across the console. Squealing with laughter, she playfully tried to get away while he peppered her face and neck with kisses. “You’re lucky I had the car in park,” she said. “That would be pretty embarrassing in front of your men, Lt. Casey.” “I made sure the car was in park,” he assured her, taking his turn to roll his eyes. As if he would ever forget something like that, with the accidents he saw every day. Hallie smirked. “Well, have a good day, and try not to end up in my ER. I’ll call you if I get a break tonight, okay?” “Okay,” he agreed, then gave her one last peck on the lips. “I’ll see you Sunday.” He reluctantly left the shelter of her car and went out into the cold, retrieving his work bag from the backseat. With one last cheerful wave, he turned to walk inside, excited to dig into the breakfast casserole his Truck candidate promised to make. After accidentally skipping their dinner reservation the night before, Matt was running on nothing but coffee and leftover pizza from Hallie’s fridge. “Good morning, Lieutenant,” Herrmann greeted him in the hallway outside the locker room. “Hey,” Matt answered. “You know if Zvonecek is here yet?” Herrmann nodded toward the locker room door. “He’s getting changed, but he popped the casserole in the oven first. Mouch is sitting in the kitchen watching it bake.” Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course he is.” Continuing into the locker room, he slipped past the group of firefighters loitering near the door and went to get changed for his shift. “Hey, Lieutenant,” both Zvonecek and Cruz greeted him, immediately stopping the conversation they were having when he walked in. As the only firefighters on their shift who came to 51 after his promotion, they treated him with more deference than anybody else. Since his reconciliation with Darden and subsequent return to 51, he’d earned the respect of everyone in the house. But only Zvonecek – three months into his candidacy – and Cruz – who joined Truck 81 while he was gone – stopped talking when he entered the room. “Hey,” he mumbled in response, dropping his bag on the bench while he opened his locker. “You have any trouble with that casserole recipe, Candidate?” “Yeah – no – I mean, it’s good,” the candidate stuttered. “I mean, I hope it’s good. I followed the recipe.” Matt smirked into his locker. “We’ll see.” Cruz’s snicker was answered by the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh – probably an upper arm. Changing into his polo shirt with his back turned to the younger men, Matt pretended not to hear. “Good morning, Lt. Casey,” a woman’s voice greeted him while he tucked in his shirt. “Hey, Dawson,” he answered, glancing over at her with a smile. The medic was already dressed for her shift, but she plopped down on the bench to talk. “I’ve got another floater PIC today,” she complained. “Wait until you see this guy. I’m worried he might break a hip if he tries to help me with the stair chair.” “Hey, at least you’re getting plenty of leadership experience,” Matt reminded her. “If you convince him to stick around, maybe you can get the PIC spot when he retires.” Dawson brightened. “That might only be a couple months. He’s like 70.” “Isn’t there a mandatory retirement age for medics?” Zvonecek asked. “Nope,” Dawson answered. “We get to work until our knees give out.” Both of the younger men snickered, but Matt cut them off with a look. “So, we saw you with your girlfriend outside,” Cruz commented after a few moments of awkward silence. “How long have you guys been together?” Matt glanced over at the younger men, deciding whether he wanted to blow the question off or give it a real answer. He hadn’t seen Severide or Darden in the locker room, so if he wanted to tell his other coworkers about Hallie without rubbing it in Kelly’s face, this was probably as good a time as any. “Hallie and I started dating in June, so about… five months, I guess. But I’ve known her forever. We met when she was in undergrad and I was working construction full-time, but once I started the Fire Academy and she went off to med school, we lost touch.” “How did you reconnect?” Dawson asked. “She matched at Lakeshore for her residency program after med school. When she was in Chicago for her interview, she called me, and we decided to meet up. Then when she moved back, we started dating.” “Oh, cool,” Dawson said brightly. “What’s she doing her residency in?” “Emergency Medicine,” Matt answered. That was as much information as he wanted to share, so he changed the subject. “C’mon, let’s go check on breakfast, make sure Mouch isn’t burning the place down.” To nobody’s surprise, neither Darden nor Severide showed up for breakfast. Andy had to drop Griffin off at kindergarten in the mornings before roll call, and Kelly probably had errands to run before his wedding that weekend. Matt didn’t mind their absence. His relationships with both of them had come a long way in the past year, but some of those old wounds felt unusually raw that week. Andy, having forgiven Matt as soon as Kelly gave his blessing, was once again his best friend. Matt’s break-up with Kelly remained a sore spot between them, but one they could choose to ignore. Things with Kelly, however, weren’t so cut-and-dry. They were civil, and when Andy invited them both out for drinks, they could sit across from each other and carry on a friendly conversation. But, by unspoken agreement, they carefully avoided interacting one-on-one. And when Kelly announced his engagement to Renee a few weeks ago, it was Andy who pulled Matt aside to tell him he wasn’t invited to the wedding. Their absence became more conspicuous after breakfast, when everyone filed into the briefing room. Frowning down at his watch, Matt thought about texting Darden to find out where he was. But then, just as the battalion chief started roll call and Matt reached for his phone, they were both interrupted by the sound of someone sprinting down the hall. The door burst open and Andy came in, red-faced and out of breath. He tried to quietly take one of the open seats, but every eye in the room was already on him. “This is why you’re supposed to be 15 minutes early for your shift,” the chief told the room. “Sorry,” Andy said quickly. “Griffin’s teacher wanted to complain that he keeps ‘disrupting naptime.’” “It runs in the family,” Herrmann teased. Matt pointedly cleared his throat, and the meeting resumed. When it wrapped up, Matt made his way over to Andy before he could get away. “You know, the dramatic entrance made that about a thousand times worse,” he said lightly. “Next time, try tip-toeing instead of galloping, okay?” Andy flashed a wry smile, but it quickly dissipated. “Is everything okay?” Matt asked with concern. “Griffin’s not in too much trouble, is he?” “What?” Andy asked, furrowing his brow. “Oh, uh, no.” Matt nodded slowly, starting to doubt Darden’s excuse for being late. “Where’s Severide? Taking care of last-minute wedding details?” Andy cringed, then nodded towards the door. “You could say that. Uh, step outside with me?” Furrowing his brow, Matt slipped around the group of Squad guys complaining about being forced to wear suits to the wedding and followed Andy out to the hall. “What’s up?” he asked. Andy pulled him a few steps further down the hall before he answered, “The wedding’s off. Kelly isn’t going to marry Renee.” Matt’s heart leapt in his chest, but he shoved that reaction down into the deep, dark pit where he kept the rest of his feelings about Kelly. “Oh, no,” he said, trying to think of his friend’s pain instead of his own relief. “What happened?” Andy raised his eyebrows, clearly doubting his sincerity, but left that accusation unsaid. After taking another look around to make sure no one could hear, he divulged, “He came home early with champagne and roses and found another guy naked in his bedroom.” “Oh, fuck.” Now Matt really did feel bad. Pursing his lips, Andy nodded. “Yeah.” “Is he okay?” Matt asked. Cringing at his own words, he self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…” Andy didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled just enough to suggest that he wanted to. “He will be, eventually. As long as Heather doesn’t kill him first.” “Is he crashing at your place?” he asked with a twinge of sympathy for everyone involved. “Yeah,” Andy confirmed. “He was going to get a motel room, but I invited him to crash on our couch. He doesn’t need to be alone right now.” “Of course,” Matt agreed. Severide liked to front as a loner, but Matt and Andy both knew better. “You should swing by and see him after shift,” Andy suggested. Matt quickly shook his head. “I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to see.” “You might be right,” Andy conceded. “Or – damn, I can’t believe I’m saying this – maybe you’re the one person he really does need to see.” Matt’s throat tightened, and Andy flashed him an impish grin. “And hey, if I’m wrong about that, getting the opportunity to throw a solid object at your head will probably brighten his day at least a little.” Lifting his eyebrows, Matt forced a wry smile. “Whatever I can do to help.” Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Matt waited for Andy to open his door. Despite the “you’re cleared for entry” text Andy sent when he got home, he wasn’t sure what to expect. If their situations were reversed and he was going through an ugly break-up, he doubted he’d be happy to see Kelly at his door. When the door opened, Matt’s heart sank at the sight of the figure slumped on the couch. The back of Kelly’s hair stood on end, and he had his head propped up in his hands like his neck had lost the strength to do its job. He didn’t move when Matt entered, but after a moment, dull blue eyes glanced up to meet his. “Hey,” Matt said lamely, and the eyes immediately flickered away. Behind him, the front door closed and Darden’s footsteps receded. With his attention focused wholly on Severide, Matt barely noticed. For a few long, painful seconds, he worried that Kelly might not speak to him. But finally, his lips parted just enough to whisper, “Hey.”  That put the ball back in Matt’s court. Bracing himself for rejection, he took a single step forward. “Did you bring beer?” Kelly asked, preempting whatever platitude Matt was about to spit out. Matt snorted. “‘Did you bring beer?’ That’s funny. The real question is, do you want to start with beer?” Kelly lifted his head, taking in the tote bag in his hands with renewed interest. “What else you got?” Offering a cautious smile, Matt held out the bag for him to take. “Here, check it out.” Kelly didn’t return his smile, but after just a moment’s hesitation, he accepted the peace offering. Setting the canvas bag between his feet, he pulled out the bottle of tequila. “Do we need glasses?” Matt asked, motioning toward the kitchen. “All you’ll find are water bottles and sippy cups,” Kelly reminded him, clearing away the blanket on the other end of the couch and then patting the seat in invitation. “C’mon. I’m not afraid of your cooties.” Matt’s eyes widened with surprise, quickly followed by mirth. “Fair enough.” “I don’t know what I’m going to do, man,” Kelly sighed two hours later. “I mean, I know I’m not getting back with Renee. This was the last straw, not the first one. But, like… I don’t know where I’m going to live.”  “You know, you could afford a decent one-bedroom,” Matt pointed out. “You don’t really need a roommate.” Wrinkling his nose, Kelly reached for the last bottle of beer. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve never really liked living alone, but I should probably get used to it.” Matt didn’t notice his teeth grinding against the inside of his cheek again until he tasted blood. Unclenching his jaw and clearing his throat, he started packing the empty bottles back into the bag. “Um, this might be weird… We can agree to pretend I never said it. But I got a major apartment upgrade when I moved back to the neighborhood. It’s a one-bedroom, but it has a full-size Murphy bed in the living room. Come stay with me while you look for a place. I’ll even supply the liquor.” “What about Hallie?” Kelly asked softly. “Won’t she mind?” “Hallie works 80 hours a week at Lakeshore,” Matt reminded him. “And she has her own apartment. I – well, we might want to live together someday, but we aren’t there yet.” Someone knocked on the door in warning, and then it opened. “Are you guys decent?” Andy called out, his hands covering both eyes but not his playful smirk. Winking at Matt, Kelly plucked a stuffed tiger from the floor beside the couch and chucked it in Andy’s direction. He uncovered his eyes just in time to be hit in the gut, and both Matt and Kelly doubled over with peals of laughter. Sighing, Andy kicked the toy out of the way and came the rest of the way inside. “Well, you both look happier,” he pointedly observed. “Feeling better?” “Mm-hmm,” Kelly confirmed. “Tequila makes everything better.” Matt nodded in agreement. “That’s our philosp… philopsoph…” “Philosophy,” Andy supplied. “Did you guys watch The Lion King while I was gone?” Kelly shook his head. “Nuh-uh. But Griffin made me watch just that song 6 times in a row last month.” “Me too!” Matt exclaimed. “I had it stuck in my head for like… nope, it’s still there. It’s there forever.” “You guys are going to love parenthood when it finally comes for you,” Andy said, sarcasm oozing from his tone. “Not much risk of that,” Kelly countered, a hint of self-pity finding its way back into his voice. Offering a gentle smile of commiseration, Matt reassuringly squeezed his hand. “Well, uh, Matt, if I’m going to be your designated driver… I’ve gotta be at Griffin’s school by 2:30, or the teacher gets mad,” Andy said, nodding towards the door. Kelly stood up so fast that Matt worried for a moment he might topple over, but he managed to find his equilibrium. “I’m going with him,” he announced. Raising his eyebrows, Andy looked to Matt for an explanation. “He’s going to stay with me until he finds a place,” Matt helpfully explained. “In – he’ll sleep in the living room, not my bed.” “Uh-huh,” Andy elongated the syllables in clear expression of his disbelief. “Okay…” “Heather will be thrilled,” Kelly reminded him. “I heard you guys fighting when you got home from work.” While Kelly started to gather his belongings into a duffel bag, Andy furrowed his brow and waved Matt into the kitchen. “Uh, Matt…” “I know,” Matt assured him, lifting his hands in surrender. “We’ll sleep in separate beds, I promise.” “I’m not just worried about where you sleep,” Andy said bluntly. “I’m worried that both of you are going to end up heartbroken again, and possibly out of a job. He’s vulnerable, and you’re all… regretti-spaghetti.” Matt wanted to be offended by that, but the emotion wouldn’t materialize. “I’m with Hallie,” he said instead. “I might regret being one more person in a long line of people who’ve hurt him, sure. But I finally have what I wanted. I just want to help Kelly get there, too.” “Uh-huh,” Andy said again. “I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’” “I reserve the right to fire you if you decide to be an insubordinate prick,” Matt countered. Andy smirked. “Oh, it’s on, Casey – if you hurt him. But I think it’s Hallie who better watch out.” Matt shook his head. “Hallie will be fine.” Despite perking up while they were drinking, Kelly retreated into his hoodie during the drive to Matt’s apartment. Slumped in the passenger’s seat with his hood pulled tight over his face and his hands stuffed up inside the sleeves, Kelly didn’t say a word from the time they left Andy’s apartment until they arrived at Matt’s. His silence filled the car like smog, making Matt’s eyes water and his nose start to burn. When they pulled up outside his apartment, Matt hurriedly wiped all signs of tears from his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt and then tried to open his door. To his surprise, it wouldn’t open, but the tab was up in the “unlocked” position. Frowning, he tried again.  “Matt!” Andy snapped. “It’s a child safety lock. Someone has to open it from the outside. Remember?” Matt slumped back against the seat. “Right. I knew that.” “It’s not even 1:00, guys,” Andy pointed out. “On a weekday.” “It’s not a weekday for us,” the hoodie in the front seat objected. Sighing heavily, Andy reached up to rub his forehead – as if he could really judge. Matt only knew him for a few months before parenthood ‘came for him,’ but the man was clearly no stranger to getting drunk before lunch on a day off from work. “Kelly…” Andy said quietly, “Are you sure you want to stay with him?” Matt didn’t bite his lip, but he pressed them together hard enough to hurt as if he had. Kelly made a noise that sounded vaguely like assent, but it was hard to hear from the backseat. “He has a girlfriend,” Andy reminded him. Kelly adjusted his hoodie, popping his head out so they could hear his response. “I haven’t forgotten. You made a really big deal out of telling me, considering how I told him about Renee.” “I don’t want either of you to get hurt again,” Andy said firmly. It sounded more like an order than concern. “He has a girlfriend,” Kelly repeated back. “I’m not into cheating, Darden. I never have been, and especially not today. I’m just looking for a place where I can get wasted without a toddler watching.” “You have lots of friends without kids. Some of them you’ve even spoken to of your own free will in the past year and a half. What about Rice? Or Manfredi?” Matt tried to tune out their conversation. There was no way to escape the car without breaking a window, but maybe if he hummed loudly enough in his head, he wouldn’t be able to hear what his best friend was saying about him mere inches away. “I thought this was your idea,” Kelly snapped. “I thought it might help to talk to him, not go live with him.” “I’m not moving in. I’m not even going to sleep with him – not that it’s any of your damn business if I do.” “Oh, you’ll make it my business,” Andy shot back. “I don’t want to lose my job, so keep it in your pants.” Even from the back of the car, Matt saw Kelly’s jaw clench with fury. Instead of answering, he shook his head, opened his door, and got out. Without knowing which apartment was Matt’s, he couldn’t go far, but he stalked a good 15 feet down the sidewalk before stopping to wait. “Um… a little help here?” Matt prompted Andy, jiggling the useless door handle to remind him of his predicament. “Hold your horses,” Andy sighed, already opening his door to get out. By the time he walked around the car, though, his attitude started to soften. While Matt climbed out from the backseat, Andy leaned in close to his ear and mumbled, “Sorry about that.” Struggling to keep his emotions in check, Matt gave him an impulsive hug. Expecting something other than affection, Andy stiffened at first. Once he realized Matt wasn’t going to clobber him, he relaxed and gave him three firm pats on the back. “I’m not going to sleep with him, asshole,” Matt assured him as they let go. “Oh, I believe you,” Andy smirked. “But now he has something other than Renee to think about.” “It takes a good friend to risk a punch to the face to take your buddy’s mind off his break-up,” Matt acknowledged.  “Casey!” Kelly called to him from a few yards down the sidewalk. “Come on! I’ve gotta piss!” “I’m coming!” “Better be the only time you yell that today,” Andy muttered. Matt dismissed him with a backhanded swat on the arm. “Get outta here.” The second Matt’s front door fell shut behind them, Kelly dropped his bag on the floor and spun around to face him. “Seriously, who the hell does he think he is?!” Lifting his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, Matt tried not to break into a smile. Maybe Andy’s plan for distracting Kelly from his break-up wasn’t so stupid after all. “He’s just worried about you,” he said mildly, kicking off his boots and hanging up his coat. “No, he’s worried about himself. Heather’s already mad at him for letting me stay there the last two nights.” “There’s beer in the fridge,” Matt answered, pointing Kelly in that direction. “And you,” Kelly continued venting on his way to the fridge. Matt waited patiently, expecting him to go on, but he fell conspicuously silent. Concerned, Matt hurried after him. He found Kelly standing in front of the open refrigerator, staring blankly at the assorted beer cans stacked on the top shelf. “Hey,” Matt said softly, resting a reassuring hand on Kelly’s upper back. “You know what you want?” Kelly huffed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “That’s a loaded question.” Running one hand over Kelly’s shoulder, Matt reached past him to grab a 16 ounce can of his favorite IPA. “Here, try this.” “Voodoo Rangers?” Kelly read the bright green label. “Is this beer for 12-year-olds?” “Oh, if you don’t want it…” Matt teased, pretending to reach for the can in Kelly’s hand. “Nah, I’m good,” Kelly said, holding the can out of reach and turning away from Matt to pop it open. Matt grabbed three more beers – two for himself, one more for Kelly – and closed the fridge. “Want to look for something on TV?” “Yeah, but first – bathroom?” “Oh yeah,” Matt remembered his earlier complaint. “It’s through there.” The television didn’t have much to offer in the middle of a weekday. After scrolling all the way through the guide a couple times, he settled on ESPN. A minute or two later, the toilet flushed. Pinching the sore on the inside of his cheek between his teeth, Matt gave the living room a once-over to make sure nothing of Hallie’s was in clear view. Although he made sure Kelly knew about her from the start, this wasn’t the moment to rub it in his face. “Of course the first thing you’d do in my new apartment is take a shit,” Matt joked when the bathroom door opened. Kelly chuckled. “I’d steer clear for a while.” Matt patted the couch in invitation, and Kelly obediently plopped down. “Nothing on, huh?” “Not unless you’re into Gunsmoke.”  Kelly took a sip from his beer, then rested his chin against the mouth of the can. “I had to call both my parents to tell them the wedding was off,” he said. “Darden wouldn’t do that for me.” “How did that go?” Shrugging, Kelly slumped against the back of the couch. “I left Benny a voicemail. He hasn’t called back yet.” Matt clicked his tongue. Even a year and a half after breaking up, he still held strong opinions about Kelly’s parents… but like most of his other feelings, he tried to keep those to himself. “What about your mom?” Kelly sighed, tapping his fingers against the side of his beer. “Pretty much what I expected. The first thing she asked was whether I cheated.” “Did you tell her the truth?” Matt asked. “Yeah… I’m just not sure if she believes me. It’s kind of funny – when I was 16, she walked in on Benny in bed with my teacher and blamed me for it. And now, I walked in on my fiancée in bed with another man, and she blames me for that too.” “None of it was your fault, Kelly,” Matt assured him. “And – I’m sure your mom doesn’t know about it, but the way I left you wasn’t your fault, either. You deserve so much better.” “I know I’m not the kind of person people fall in love with. I’m just the guy you fuck until your soulmate comes along. And – I– I knew Renee didn’t really love me. I just convinced myself… I could have…” A single tear leaked from Kelly’s eye, and Matt instinctively reached to brush it away. The moment his hand touched Kelly’s skin, however, the other man jumped up from the couch. “I – I shouldn’t have come here,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Andy was right.” “I want you here,” Matt said frankly, staying in his seat. “I – Well, I know how bad I fucked things up, but you mean the world to me, Kelly. I want to at least be your friend, even if you don’t want anything more.” Spinning to face him again, Kelly stared at him, his mouth and eyes both wide with shock. “But – Hallie. Matt, after… I won’t – you won’t.” Hoping his smile looked more reassuring than flippant, Matt nodded. “I won’t cheat. You’re right. I’m not saying we should have sex tonight –” “Cheating is more than just sex!” Kelly reminded him. On second thought, this probably wasn’t the best moment for Matt to tell his best friend - turned ex-boyfriend - recently turned friend again about the nature of his relationship. But he didn’t see a way out of the conversation now. “Hallie and I have an open relationship,” he explained. “And this is not a proposition. I’m just telling you… if anything did happen between us, Hallie would be fine with it. She knows how much you mean to me.” “Wait, Hallie knows about us?” Kelly asked. Matt was seriously mismanaging this conversation… to no one’s surprise. Fuck.  “Yes,” he confessed. “I – I know we said we’d never…” Covering his mouth with one hand, Kelly turned away from him again. “It’s fine, Matt. I – I’m glad you have a relationship built on honesty, for once in your life.” “Kelly…” “I never told Renee,” Kelly informed him, pacing across the room. “We were together for a year and a half, and she doesn’t know about you, she doesn’t know I’m bi…” Matt closed his eyes. Another reason to feel guilty. “I’m sorry, Kelly. I – I hope you know, you can tell the next girl. I don’t want to be –” “There won’t be a next girl!” Kelly snapped, his volume rapidly rising. “Not for me.” “Kelly, you’re heartbroken right now, but –” Matt’s reassurances were interrupted by a sudden outburst of laughter from Severide, who stopped pacing and leaned against the back of the couch. “Sev?” he asked, turning in his seat so he could see him. Kelly’s peals of laughter dropped off into a wheeze, and he slowly shook his head. “I hate you so much, Matt. God. I fucking hate you so much.”  Matt recoiled slightly… but only slightly. Despite the progress they’d made that morning, the declaration didn’t exactly come as a surprise. “Okay,” he said calmly. “You can hate me. I’ve earned that.” Committed to letting Kelly work out whatever feelings he was having, Matt didn’t flinch when his ex-boyfriend reached for his throat. But instead of the choking he anticipated, Kelly used the collar of his t-shirt to pull him forward, then put two fingers under his chin to angle his face up. Time seemed to freeze when Kelly’s lips touched his. Braced for something far less pleasant, Matt’s carefully guarded heart melted at the unexpected tenderness of Kelly’s touch. Closing his eyes, he rested his hand lightly on the nape of Kelly’s neck, signaling that he wanted to hold him close. The kiss lasted just a moment, but Kelly didn’t pull away. Nuzzling against Matt’s cheek, he whispered, “Maybe I don’t hate you.” The left side of Matt’s mouth twitched upwards in a cautious half-smile. “Maybe you don’t just hate me,” he suggested. Kelly let him go and leaned back, folding his arms on the back of the sofa. He stood silently for a minute or two, staring down at the floor in thought. “Is this real?” he finally asked. Raising his eyebrow, Matt gently pinched the side of Kelly’s wrist. “I dunno, can you feel that?” “Barely,” Kelly said with a hint of a smirk. Matt pinched the more sensitive skin on the back of his hand, using considerably more force. “How about that?” His eyes pinched with silent laughter, Kelly swatted his hand out of the way and reached for his chest, pinching his right nipple through his shirt. “How about that?” he playfully mocked, squeezing tight enough to take Matt’s breath away. Gripping the side of the couch, Matt took a deep, steadying breath and looked Kelly in the eye, even as his cock stirred in his pants. “Yeah… I feel that.” “I trust you with my life, Matt,” Kelly reminded him, releasing the death grip on his nipple and averting his eyes. Matt waited patiently for the “but…”  “But I– I don’t mean to be hurtful, but…” “It’s okay,” Matt assured him, reaching up to squeeze his hands. “Whatever it is… it’s okay.” “I can’t do this if I have any doubt about whether you’re cheating on Hallie,” Kelly disclosed. “I– I want to believe you…” “Trust has to be earned,” Matt acknowledged. “In the meantime, would hearing it from Hallie help?” Looking in his direction again, Kelly raised his eyebrows. “Um… yeah. I guess it would.” Matt glanced at his watch to make sure Hallie wasn’t at work, then bent over backwards to grab his phone from the table. He pulled up her contact and placed the call, and they both waited anxiously for her to answer. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” Hallie greeted him. “Hey,” Matt said brightly. “I’m here with Kelly.” “Hey, Kelly,” Hallie said. “I’m sorry to hear about your break-up.” Kelly gave Matt a questioning look, which he returned with a contrite cringe. He’d texted Hallie almost as soon as Andy told him the news, not expecting her to meet Kelly the next day. “Thanks,” Kelly said solemnly, but at least he didn’t seem upset. “I don’t want to take too much of your time,” Matt said, eager to get the conversation over with before either of them said anything he didn’t want the other to hear. “But we wanted to let you know that Kelly and I kissed.” If Kelly had any real doubts about Hallie’s feelings on the matter, the delighted squeal that came through the phone cleared it up. Matt grinned, some of his own glee finally catching up with him too. He would have preferred for Kelly not to get hurt in the process, but he’d been longing for this for a long-ass time. “Can you tell Kelly how you would feel about it if we… did more than kiss?” Even knowing how she would answer, it was an awkward question to ask. “Hey, Kelly,” Hallie cheerfully repeated. “Matt’s telling you the truth – it’s fine with me if you guys want to hook up, as long as you use protection.” Kelly glanced at Matt before he answered. “Okay… Thanks.” “Is this your first time with someone who’s in an open relationship?” Hallie asked. “Uh, yeah,” Kelly disclosed. Matt couldn’t resist a triumphant smirk. It wasn’t often that he had more experience with something than Kelly. “Every relationship is different, but Matt and I enjoy supporting each other in hooking up with and dating other people,” Hallie informed him. “It’s up to you and Matt to decide what your relationship is going to look like, if you choose to have one at all. But don’t worry about me. Matt’s heart is big enough for two.” The next morning, Kelly and Matt sat down for a late breakfast of toast, coffee, and Ibuprofen. In the light of a new day – and with their blood alcohol levels returning to normal – Matt worried that Kelly’s feelings might have changed. But based on the way Kelly caressed his fingers when he handed him his morning coffee, that didn’t seem to be the case. “So…” Matt said cautiously, then waited to see if Kelly would take the bait. “Are you sure Hallie’s going to be cool?” Kelly asked. “I know what she said, but… Are you sure she really meant it?” Matt nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s been an open relationship all along. She has a date with someone else tonight, actually.” “So you guys are just casual?” Pursing his lips in consideration, Matt slowly shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t say that. We’re committed to each other, or getting there. I could see it getting serious someday. But we’re both bi, and she pitched the idea of having a – well, a committed non-monogamous relationship, I guess.” Kelly took a bite of his toast and chewed thoroughly before he answered. “So you probably can’t give me any answers about how long it would be before you cut me loose again.” Biting his lip, Matt studied Kelly’s face for a few seconds. “I – I don’t think it’s a given that it would have to be temporary. Obviously, if you found someone you wanted to be with exclusively, or if this just causes you more grief, I would understand if you want to call it off. But I think… I think that even if Hallie isn’t the woman I marry, I want to be with someone who’s comfortable with the possibility of loving more than one person.” “It’s a big deal for me to decide to trust you again,” Kelly said. “When we broke up, I had only just started to realize there were problems in our relationship… Then I found out in a morning briefing that you’d been planning to leave me for months.” Chewing on his mouth ulcer once again, Matt nodded. The reminder of his past mistakes stung, but at this point, all he could do was own it. His instinct was to apologize for the 1,000th time, but that would just make his feelings the focus of the conversation. Kelly knew he regretted the way he hurt him. Right now, he needed a listening ear, not another apology. “And then with Renee, I – I knew the love between us wasn’t real, because it wasn’t the way I felt with you. But I was all in, completely committed to her, and… well, honestly, I think she cheated on me because she didn’t know how to tell me how she really felt. I guess I have a type.” Matt cringed. “I didn’t cheat on you – I would never.” “You’re right,” Kelly agreed. “But it feels the same. You both did something behind my back and lied about it until you got caught. You both pretended to love me to spare yourselves a break-up, and you both told yourselves it was because you didn’t want to hurt me. But it was really you that you didn’t want to hurt.” “I do love you,” Matt said firmly, before he heard the words in his own head. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck –  Kelly smirked, but his eyes were still sad. “I know you do, angel. You fucked me up pretty good, but after a few months, I realized the love would always be there, even if we couldn’t bear to be friends.” Frowning, Matt nodded. “So…” Kelly said slowly, “Back to Hallie… Do you think that’s going to be a long-term thing? Is she the one?” Matt took a sip of beer, avoiding eye contact with Kelly. “Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see, I guess.” Hallie should have been the one. In a universe where he never fell in love with Kelly, maybe she would have been. In addition to being smart, funny, and even more gorgeous than when they met nine years ago, she was one of the best friends he’d ever had. She accepted him for who he was, without question, but also pushed him to grow beyond his comfort zone. And – in what would likely be the selling point for just about any other man – their open relationship was her idea. He really was a lucky guy. Kelly didn’t answer. For the next several minutes, they sat in silence with their beer, until finally, Kelly cleared his throat. “I know people – meaning Darden and Heather – are going to think this is a rebound, but honestly… Renee was a rebound from you. This – This is an opportunity to have something real again, even if it’s only part-time.” Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you saying…?” “I want to give this a try,” Kelly decided. “It’s just – I think we should go into it with the perspective that our working relationship is our priority, and we both understand that the – the dating part – that might not work out. And if not, we should still try to be friends. I – I’ve missed being your friend.” Flooded with relief, Matt nodded. “That sounds great.” Everyone at the firehouse noticed the difference in Matt and Kelly during their next two shifts. From Matt’s return to 51 until now, they’d been the picture of professionalism in public, and more or less civil to one another around the firehouse. As a Lieutenant, Matt took on an intentionally aloof persona, spending most of their downtime in his office instead of hanging out with his crew. Since Squad usually did their own thing, even taking dinner at their card table most nights, they rarely had to interact outside of calls. When they did speak, they used as few words as possible to get the point across, and they never, ever laughed at one another’s jokes. So it didn’t escape anyone’s notice when they walked into the locker room one morning and heard a long-forgotten sound: Kelly Severide and Matt Casey laughing at the same time. “So I guess we’re having cake for breakfast for the next couple of weeks,” Matt announced. “Try months… or years… holy shit, it’s so much cake.” “It’s sooo much cake,” Matt laughed. “What’s this about cake?” Mouch asked. Matt and Kelly looked each other in the eye, both of them struggling not to crack up laughing again. “Um, Severide and his ex missed the deadline to cancel their wedding cake, and he’s keeping his stuff at my place until he finds a new apartment… so since the cake was on his credit card, my entire freezer and half the fridge are full of cake.” “I like cake,” Mouch reminded them. “I like cake too!” Hustings piped in, popping his head out from the Squad 3 t-shirt he was putting on. “What kind of cake are we talking? There’s no pineapple or coconut in it, is there?” Herrmann asked. “Who the hell do you think I am?” Kelly asked. “It’s a fucking chocolate cake. And if you ask your lieutenant nicely, I bet he’ll let you take the Truck to get as much as you want from his fridge.” “Can we?” Mouch asked. “Please, Lieutenant?” Cruz added, folding his hands as if in prayer. “I want it out of my fridge, so yes. On our way back from our first call, or when we go out to fuel up this evening.” Most of the men in the locker room looked up at the ceiling as if hoping for the klaxons to go off right that second. Shaking his head, Matt flashed Kelly a grin and put his foot up on the bench to finish tying his boot. “Told you that would work.” “I never doubted it,” Kelly said. “I’ve seen Truck 81 eat cake before. Y’all are worse than a pack of cops in a donut shop.” “We can’t all live on pizza, beer, and protein powder like Rescue Squad,” Herrmann teased. “You could do with a little protein powder, Herrmann,” Kelly teased back, giving his bicep a playful squeeze. While the members of Truck and Squad continued to toss playful insults back and forth, Captain Boden walked around the corner of the lockers and waved Matt over. “Hey, Cap.” Matt greeted him with an earnest smile, possibly for the first time all year. “How’s your morning going so far?” “Well, it was kind of a lackluster start to the day… but then I got here and heard Truck and Squad laughing and joking together. I haven’t heard that in a long time. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.” “Just for the record, I’m charging y’all for the cake,” Severide loudly announced, drawing Matt’s attention back to his friends. “Twenty-five cents a slice if you had a wedding invitation; a dollar a slice if I’ve already sent a clear message that I don’t like you.” “Hey!” he jokingly protested. As the only person in the firehouse who wasn’t invited to the wedding, he was clearly meant to take offense. “If that’s how you’re going to be, I’m going to start charging you a dollar an hour to store your cake in my fridge.” Kelly’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “Okay, fine. Maybe we can settle on a trade – I get the fridge space as long as I need it, and you get all the free cake you can eat.” “And you wash the dishes,” Matt threw in for the hell of it. “What, are you two getting married now?” Herrmann joked. “You never know with those two,” Andy teased, winking at Matt. Smirking, Matt threw his arm around Kelly’s shoulders, hoping that would be enough to distract their friends from his flushing ears and neck. I’m going to kill Darden in his sleep.  “Maybe someday, huh?” he joked, managing to make his voice sound almost normal. Kelly shook his head, but Matt caught a glimpse of the smile he tried to conceal. “You never know.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I thought you were smart,” Nesbitt’s curt reproval greeted Matt as he woke. Face down on the dusty wooden floor, he couldn’t tell at first if he was still lying where he fell or if Nesbitt had time to take him back to the other room. Suppressing a groan, he risked lifting his head just enough to take note of the large, empty room and sloppily boarded windows. He was still in the same place, so it probably hadn’t been more than a few seconds since Nesbitt knocked him out. “Don’t move.” Blinking rapidly to clear the black spots in his vision, Matt took the advice. The plank he pulled from the door was just out of reach, but he quickly decided against trying to use it against his attacker. Even if he could get to it, a piece of softwood was no match for a bullet at close range. And based on the splitting pain in the back of his head, he probably wouldn’t get far. “Jack!” another man’s voice called out. “Out front!” Nesbitt answered. “I’ve got him.” Nesbitt walked closer, his brown suede oxfords echoing on the floor. Matt’s pulse quickened. For a moment, he felt as though the room was tilting, lifting him upwards like a child on a seesaw. But it wasn’t the floor that was moving. Instead, Nesbitt’s grip on the back of Matt’s collar pulled him up, forcing him onto his elbows and knees. “Jack…” Matt croaked, casting his eyes up to meet Nesbitt’s cold glare. The barrel of a gun against the back of his neck made him forget what he was going to say. Sucking in a deep breath, Matt froze.  “Did you get her?” Nesbitt asked the other men as they walked in. “Yes.” Their response made bile rise in Matt’s throat. They didn’t give any more detail because they didn’t need to – that one word said it all. His nostrils flaring with short, jagged breaths, Matt made sure Nesbitt could see every ounce of hatred in his gaze. “What do you want to do with him?” “Take him back to the other room,” Nesbitt instructed, pressing the pistol even harder against Matt’s neck before he stepped back. “We need to know how much he told ATF.”  They still think I’m working for ATF, Matt realized. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but as a pair of hands yanked him to his feet, a thread of hope wove its way through the terror blanketing his mind. Dragging his feet, Matt cooperated just enough to keep himself alive without making it easy for them. To his satisfaction, blood trickled from a gash on the back of one of the men’s heads – probably where Matt slammed it against the wall. When they reached the room he fled just a minute or two earlier, Matt’s heart leapt in his chest. Between the gunfire he heard and the monosyllabic answer to Nesbitt’s question, he assumed Katya was dead. Instead, she lay curled up on the floor, both the grimace on her face and the hands pressing down on a wound on her abdomen proving she was still alive. “Katya!” Matt rushed forward, trying to reach her side. “No!” Nesbitt snapped, and the hands on his arms roughly pulled him back.  I see who’s really in charge here, Matt sourly observed. Voight seemed to believe that Nesbitt was an unwitting participant, in over his head – but the charismatic ex-firefighter was clearly the one giving the orders. It wouldn’t be the first time Voight got it wrong.  Matt tried not to let himself think too hard about why Nesbitt would drop the act now. Breathe in. Breathe out. Right this second, I’m alive.  If he’d ever been more afraid for his life than he was right that second, he couldn’t remember it now. But he had been more afraid. When it was his life in danger, he could think like a firefighter, keeping panic at bay. No matter what happened here, at least he knew Kelly was safe. “Let me help her, damn it.” Ignoring the other guy, Matt appealed directly to Nesbitt – firefighter to firefighter. “Come on, Jack. You know this goes a lot better for you if nobody dies.” Nesbitt’s eyes brightened for just a moment as they met Matt’s. His shoulders loosened, and his head tilted in a semblance of a nod. Relieved, Matt started to step forward to take a look at Katya’s wound – only for Jack to point the gun at him. Matt quickly raised his hands, and Nesbitt waved with the gun for him to step back. The moment he was out of the way, Nesbitt lowered the gun and fired another round into Katya’s face. Averting his eyes a moment too late, Matt gaped at Nesbitt in shock. The pistol once again focused directly on his chest, and he couldn’t do anything but stare.  He’s a psychopath. I’m going to die.  If he didn’t think twice about killing a woman he’d known for years – someone he’d worked with, slept with, even befriended on some level – the snitch who rejected his sexual advances didn’t stand a chance. “Where’s the notebook, Matt?” Matt stared blankly at him for a long moment. What could he say? If he denied knowing where the notebook was, Nesbitt would kill him then and there. If he told him the truth, it would be the same result – only Nesbitt would end up with the evidence Katya sacrificed her life to compile. Trying to drag it out might buy him some time, but for what? Dawson and Voight had no idea where he was. He left his phone so they could use it to find the notebook, which left them no way to track where he went after that. Nobody was coming to save him this time. “I don’t know,” he bit out. “Katya didn’t tell me.”  I’m so sorry, Kelly. He braced himself, expecting to die – but for what felt like an eternity, nobody made a move. Nesbitt’s heavy breathing fell into rhythm with his own, and the other men seemed to disappear. The whole world boiled down to Matt, Jack, and the barrel of a gun. Nesbitt motioned to one of his partners – the one Matt got the better of before. Without so much as a word, the man stepped forward and punched Matt in the gut. Refusing to let them hear him groan, Matt flinched, but stayed furiously, spitefully silent. “I’ve seen Katya’s texts,” Nesbitt informed him. “Do you have it, or did she hide it somewhere?” Matt’s instinct was to lie, but then he realized that this time, he might be better served by the truth. “We hid it,” he admitted. “Where?” Nesbitt asked.  Breathe in. Breathe out.  “Why the hell would I tell you that, Jack?” “It has to be at the church,” the European without a bump on his head piped up. “They didn’t have a chance to go anywhere else.” Matt cringed, feigning defeat. With any luck, Antonio had recovered his phone and the notebook by now. If they were actually dumb enough to go looking for it, they might be in for a nasty surprise. It didn’t make him feel any better about dying, but Voight would be pleased. “Take care of that,” Nesbitt said, gesturing at Katya. Matt kept his eyes locked on the pistol while the men picked up Katya’s body – or most of it – and took her from the room. Matt hoped the police would be able to identify her body. Her family – her sister – deserved to know what happened. They deserved to know that Katya died a hero, trying to save other people from the kind of abuse she endured. They also deserved to see her killer behind bars. Taking in Nesbitt’s complete lack of remorse, Matt’s lip curled with disgust. “What about him?” one of the men asked. “Give me a minute. We’ll be right behind you.” The dancing black spots in Matt’s vision grew larger, and his ears started to ring. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t let him see you cry.  Hovering in the doorway, Nesbitt glanced back and forth between Matt and the men retreating down the hall. When they were gone, Nesbitt turned to face him, his face pinched with even more fury than before. “I’m cooperating with ATF, you goddamn idiot.”  Matt inhaled again, his nose making a sound suspiciously like a sniffle. Traitor.  Nesbitt stepped forward, and Matt flinched – but to his surprise, instead of firing the pistol, Nesbitt took a knife from his pocket. “You both could have lived,” Nesbitt spat. “But I couldn’t have her showing up at the hospital with a gunshot wound after she tried to run. That’s on you, Casey.” Matt didn’t bother to answer. Nesbitt flipped the pocket knife open. “Hands.” Wide-eyed with shock, Matt held them out. Still holding the gun in one hand, Nesbitt cut through the zip tie with the other. “If you want to live – if you want your boyfriend and the other people you care about to live – you’re not going to testify. I’ll give ATF and the DAs everything they need. You need to get out of town and lay low. They have connections in Milwaukee, St. Louis, Toronto, and Detroit.” Matt just stared at him, at a loss for words.  “Casey,” Nesbitt snapped, apparently expecting him to speak.  “Why?” Matt asked, a single word encompassing dozens of questions. Nesbitt turned the gun around and pressed the grip into Matt’s unsteady hand. “I don’t want you to die.” The moment they cleared the building, Kelly dropped to one knee on the ground. Coughing until he had a handful of soot and phlegm, he barely noticed the battalion of anxious firefighters running to his side. “Make a hole!” Sylvie Brett’s voice cut through the crowd. Still hacking up his lungs, Kelly waved for the medics to check on Dawson first. She went without oxygen for almost twice as long as he did, and he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. He watched out of the corner of his eye while Brett pressed a mask over her face. Moments later, Chilton held another out to him. “Are you hurt?” she asked, lifting the strap over his head while he breathed into the mask. He quickly shook his head. “I’m fine.” He could barely get the words out before he started coughing again, but aside from that, he wasn’t injured. “We need to get you to the hospital,” Chilton advised. Shaking his head again, he pulled the mask from his face just long enough to protest. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.” “It’s Shay,” Otis said loudly. Kelly’s head shot up. “What?” “Dispatch called,” Herrmann informed them, putting a hand on Dawson’s shoulder. “They need you at the hospital for Shay.” With the emergency department at Gaffney still undergoing repairs following the suicide bombing, ambulances unloaded patients at the medical school across the street. The upgraded ED wasn’t expected to reopen until sometime that fall; until then, patients were triaged in the med school cafeteria before being admitted to the main hospital, transferred to another trauma center, or discharged. The first time Kelly walked inside after returning from his medical leave, he felt almost invincible. He healed and got back to work faster than the building itself – even a grenade couldn’t stop him. That night, sitting in the back of an ambulance while it pulled up to a loading dock once used for crates of hamburger patties, Kelly felt anything but invincible. Before the ambulance even came to a stop, Dawson was on her feet and opening the door, and Kelly hurriedly followed. “Hey!” Brett protested from her seat on the gurney. “Don’t take off, we have to get you checked in.” “We’re fine,” Kelly promised, motioning for her to sit down. “You can head back to quarters. Thanks for the ride.” “You are not fine,” the blonde scowled. She reminded him of another medic he knew – the one he needed to get to now. Brett followed them inside, but he was too focused on Shay to care. While she tried to check in with the clerk at the desk beside the entrance, Kelly and Gabby sprinted down the hallway behind her and pushed through the double doors. In a room with only 12 beds separated by folding partitions, it didn’t take long to find Clarke and Shay. “She’s okay,” Clarke said immediately, reaching out to squeeze Kelly’s hand in greeting. “What happened?” Dawson asked, rushing past him to reach Shay’s side. “They think it was a seizure,” Clarke answered. “She’s stable.” Both firefighters studied Shay’s vital signs on the monitor behind her gurney to make sure. Her oxygen saturation and heart rate looked good, and her last blood pressure reading was just slightly elevated. “How are you feeling?” Kelly asked Shay, dropping Clarke’s hand to grip Dawson’s shoulder instead. “I’m fine,” Shay said with an undertone of frustration. “Your boy overreacted.” Kelly’s lips twitched, and Dawson’s muscles relaxed beneath his hand. “He did not,” Dawson chided. “If you had a seizure, you need to get checked out. What kind of seizure was it?” “They paged a neurologist from across the street, but he hasn’t gotten here yet,” Clarke said. “I don’t know much about neurology, but I was looking up information on my phone while we waited, and it sounds like a complex partial seizure.” “Do you think we should move her?” Gabby asked, looking up at Kelly. Kelly looked to Clarke. “Have they said anything about imaging yet? Can they do a CT here?” “The EM resident said the neurologist will probably order one. They’ll take her over to the hospital to do it.” “They’re going to push her across four lanes of traffic on a gurney?” Dawson frowned. “Is that really the best they can do?” “How long have you been waiting?” Kelly asked. “I think we should transfer to Lakeshore,” Gabby said before Clarke or Shay could respond. “Okay,” Kelly readily agreed. “I don’t know why they even brought her here when they had other options. How are they supposed to run an ER without a CAT scanner?” “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shay yelled, waving her arm between them. “Person! Right here!” The three friends looked back at the woman glaring up at them from the gurney. Despite the slight slurring of her words, she was more than capable of voicing her own opinions. “Sorry,” Kelly and Dawson apologized, chagrined. “What do you think?” Dawson asked. “Do you want to transfer to Lakeshore?” Shay shook her head. “No. Gaffney has all my neurology records, and I know how everything works as a patient here. I have the kitchen on speed dial. If I’m going to get stuck in the hospital again, I don’t want to go somewhere else. It’s not like we’re moving into the ER.” “The food here is better,” Kelly conceded. He still had her beat for the most lifetime hospitalizations, but his stays were split almost evenly between Gaffney and Lakeshore. Lakeshore had larger patient rooms with better views of Lake Michigan and the city skyline, but Gaffney’s hospitality staff were hard to beat. When nobody was actively trying to blow it up or burn it down, it would be his first choice, too. Dawson sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry for talking over you. It’s just –” “It’s fine,” Shay assured her. “I know you’re worried. But I’m fine, guys, really. I promise.” Ten hours later, Kelly, Gabby, and Jeff stood along the wall outside a hospital observation room while the nurses helped Shay get into bed. After a brief conversation with the neurology resident on call, a CT scan, and a round of blood work for everyone but Clarke, the doctors decided to admit Shay to the hospital for observation and a 24-hour EEG. Although they didn’t know much more now than when they first arrived, at least the doctors ruled out the most terrifying possibility in Kelly’s mind – a stroke. While Shay perked up throughout the evening, Kelly’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. By the time the transporters came to load Shay in an ambulance and drive her across the street, his yawns were forceful enough to make his jaw start to ache. It was no wonder. He could barely remember the last time he slept through the night. If he was completely honest with himself, he probably shouldn’t have worked that shift at all. He and Dawson were lucky his sleep deprivation didn’t get them both killed. Following that train of thought, he crashed into the memory of another call he botched, 363 days ago. Although none of them said anything about the anniversary, Kelly knew it weighed heavily on Shay and Dawson’s minds, too. After nearly a year, Shay had just turned the corner in terms of adapting to her disability and embracing her new life. Watching her thrive, Kelly was finally letting himself heal and move on from it all, too. But this – well, this felt like starting over from square one. (See also: a kick in the balls.)  Spotting a trash can in an alcove, Kelly ripped off the tape covering the spot on his forearm where the nurse drew his blood. “You wanna?” he mumbled to Dawson, showing her the trash in his hand. She stared at him in confusion for several seconds before catching on. “Oh, yeah… thanks.” She gingerly peeled the tape from the crook of her arm. He wadded them up together, then tried to toss it into the trash can – missing by almost a foot. Sighing, Jeff bent to retrieve the tape and dropped it in the trash. “Sorry,” Kelly muttered. Jeff shrugged one shoulder. “No problem.” Dawson took her phone from her pocket to check the time. “Hey, it’s almost end of shift.” Kelly glanced at the screen over her shoulder. “Thank god. I’m ready to crash in my own bed until I don’t know what year it is… but I’ll come back around 9 to be here for rounds.” “I can do it,” Dawson offered, stifling a yawn. Smiling wryly, Kelly shook his head. “Nah. You’ve had a rough shift, Candidate.” Dawson pressed her lips together in thought before relenting with a single, tiny nod. “Okay. I’ll come relieve you before lunch.” “I don’t think Shay necessarily needs someone to sit here the whole time,” Jeff said slowly. “The doctor didn’t seem to think she’s in any immediate danger. I know it’s scary, but…” He trailed off, and for a few seconds, none of them spoke. But finally, Gabby cleared her throat. “Do you know what day it is?” “Uh… May 13th,” Jeff answered. “Chief Boden’s wedding anniversary is the 14th,” Kelly reminded him. Jeff stared at them, blinking with confusion, until recognition finally dawned. 
“... Oh.” 
“We’ll leave for tonight,” Dawson said. “Mostly so she doesn’t throw a water pitcher at us for watching her sleep. But she’s not going to spend any time alone here while she’s awake.” “Not this time,” Kelly added under his breath. With a somewhat watery smile, Gabby reached over to give his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “No… you’re the only one who was ever alone. She wasn’t. But this time, we’re all in this together. You’re not allowed to punish yourself anymore.” Jeff didn’t say anything, but his smug expression spoke volumes. He always liked it when other people told Kelly what he’d been saying all along. But although Gabby was right about Shay, her declaration was factually untrue. Kelly wasn’t the only one who spent the first half of last summer completely alone. While Kelly hid out at his father’s cabin and the rest of their friends gathered around Shay, Matt went home to an empty house every night. With both Darden and Hallie dead, Ben and Griffin whisked off to Florida, and Kelly binge drinking in the woods, Kelly couldn’t imagine how abandoned his boyfriend must have felt. He usually tried not to give it too much thought – beating himself up for his past mistakes didn’t make things any better for Matt, Shay, or himself. But this week, he might have to make an exception. The door to Shay’s room opened, and the nurse stepped outside. “Okay, she’s all settled. You can come in and say good night, but then she needs to get some rest. Visiting hours start at 8:30 a.m.” Letting Gabby go first, they filed into the room, where they each took a turn hugging Shay. Before she let go of Kelly, she pulled his head down to press her lips against his temple. “I love you,” she murmured. “Love you too, Buttercup.” Laughing softly, Shay swatted his arm and pushed him away. “You’re Buttercup. I’m Blossom. Get your shit together, Severide.” Kelly narrowed his eyes at Clarke and Dawson. “You didn’t hear that.” “Mm- hmm,” Dawson smirked, raising her eyebrows. “I’ve heard worse,” Jeff shrugged. “Okay, it’s time to go,” Shay announced, waving them towards the door. “I need to get some sleep, and based on the size of the bags under your eyes, so do you.” Kelly couldn’t argue with that. When he yawned again on their way out, tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember being this exhausted in his life. “I’ll drive you guys back to the firehouse,” Jeff offered. “I guess you technically have a couple hours left in your shift, and I know what a stickler you are for attendance…” Kelly snorted. “I think I’ll give myself a pass… but you can take me to pick up my car.” Nobody wanted him going on any calls in this state. “Hey, is Casey okay?” Dawson asked. “It’s not like him to miss a shift, and after the blow-up at the call Saturday morning…” “He’s fine,” Kelly said flatly. At least he hoped so. He wouldn’t have any way of knowing for sure, since Matt hadn’t texted him all shift. Kelly didn’t mind the lack of communication in general – whatever was going on with Matt, he clearly wanted space to work it out. Given the weeks of abandonment he’d been recalling a few minutes ago, Kelly couldn’t fault him there. But the lack of response to his texts about Shay – that had him kind of irked. Either Matt was so angry he wasn’t opening Kelly’s messages at all, or he was so angry he didn’t care what was happening with Shay. Maybe both. But neither option was anything like the Matt Casey he knew and loved. Kelly had a hard time believing anything was going to be “fine.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

June 5, 2013: 
Armed with a six-pack of Matt’s favorite beer, Kelly marched up the walkway to his house. He hadn’t seen his boyfriend outside of work in over a week – not since the day before little Kenny Herrmann’s birth. Even at the firehouse, Matt spent the majority of the last two shifts in his office, blowing off Kelly’s attempts to have a real conversation and lying through his teeth that he was “fine.” Today, that was going to change. Whether he wanted company or not, Kelly didn’t intend to step foot off of Matt’s property until he either let him in or called the cops to take him away. On his way up the stairs, Kelly spotted a pile of newspapers on the corner of Matt’s porch, each still rolled up in its plastic bag. That’s not good. Although Matt was by no means obsessive about house-cleaning, Kelly had never known him to leave the paper lying out. Let alone for – he quickly counted the bags – five days in a row. 
Shit. 
“Matt?” he called out, banging on the door in time with his racing heart. “Matt! You in there?”Not hearing an answer, Kelly tried the doorknob with one hand while reaching for the key in his pocket with the other. To his surprise, the knob turned without it. “Matt?” he asked, cracking the door open and sticking his head inside. “You home?” The stench of rotting garbage hit Kelly as he entered. It was nothing he hadn’t smelled before, but finding Matt’s house in such a state made his stomach turn. “Angel, I’m coming in,” he announced, letting himself in and shutting the front door behind him. The mess he found in Matt’s living room took his breath away. Every surface – tables, chairs, and sofas alike – was covered in about a week’s worth of empty beer bottles, half-empty take-out containers, bags of junk food, and napkins. The trash cans themselves were overflowing, and enough flies buzzed around them to indicate they’d been that way for a while.  His apartment had looked like this on a few occasions – but never Matt’s. Walking into the living room from the foyer, he finally laid eyes on Matt. The blonde sat hunched over at his dining room table in a grungy gray sweatshirt, with his face buried in his hands. Although he must have heard Kelly enter, he sat as motionless as if he didn’t know anyone was there. “Babe,” Kelly said, his voice cracking like a high school freshman’s. “I…” 
What am I saying? ‘I brought more beer?’ Does it look like that’s what’s needed here? 
At a loss for words, Kelly fell silent, waiting for Matt to make a move. Matt slowly pushed himself up from the table and faced him, glancing guiltily over the mess. His pale cheeks took on a hint of color, and his eyes finally settled on the floor. His fingers curled and tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt before finding their grip on the table at his back. After a moment of awkward silence, he leaned back against the table and shook his head. “Nothing… Nothing makes sense.” Kelly nodded. Setting the beer on top of a pile of unopened mail, he reached out to offer him a hug. “I know.” Matt smelled like sweat, beer, and Chinese take-out, but Kelly didn’t mind. Resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, Kelly held him as tightly as he could. Silent tremors coursed through Matt’s body, then gave way to sobs. Squeezing his stinging eyes shut before he could start crying too, Kelly ran his palms up and down Matt’s back. “I’m here, and I love you,” he murmured. “I know I can’t make it better, but you can lean on me.” 
June 6, 2013: 
“I’m sorry,” the fertility specialist told Shay. “Your hCG levels are less than 5 milli-units per millimeter, which indicates that you didn’t get pregnant with this cycle. Like we discussed during your consultation, it’s normal for it to take 3-6 cycles for a woman of your age to get pregnant. When you’re ready to schedule your next insemination, give my office a call.” With that, he hung up the phone, leaving Kelly and Shay staring awkwardly at each other across the kitchen counter. “Uh, okay… That was a little abrupt,” Shay said. Kelly breathed a sigh of relief, exhaling two weeks’ worth of tension. “Damn! I’m sorry, girl.” Placing her phone face down on the counter, Shay pursed her lips and shook her head. “Hey, it’s for the best, right?” she shrugged. “With your – Casey, and Hallie, and everything – this probably isn’t the time.” “I still want to do this,” Kelly said. He meant it, with all his heart – but that conviction didn’t exactly ring out with his words. He did want a baby, almost as much as he wanted Shay to have everything she wanted in life. But watching Shay walk into the procedure room for her insemination, he realized he didn’t want that baby right now. In the initial days after Hallie’s death, he took a “carpe diem” approach – life was short, so he might as well have the baby, date the boy, live life to the fullest. Then he spent two weeks watching his boyfriend crumble under the weight of his grief, holding his breath for Shay’s period to come. Leaning against the counter, he massaged his jaw in thought. After yesterday, he knew more clearly than ever that he couldn’t have a baby right now. But how was he supposed to tell Shay? He swore up and down that he was all in on this – he couldn’t just back out now. As if sensing his thoughts, Shay forced a bitter smile. Resting his hands on top of hers, Kelly offered a weak smile in return. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out this time. We – We’ll try again.” “I know you want this,” Shay said. “It’s just… not the right time. And hey, if you and Matt are really back together for good this time, it’s probably better if we wait. A few months from now when his grief isn’t so heavy, he might want to be part of this. After all… if you guys got married, he’d be our baby’s stepdad.” Kelly’s heart skipped a beat. Trying and failing to contain his grin, he first squeezed her hands, then leaned over the counter to kiss her cheek. “This is going to happen,” he vowed. “But you’re right that we probably do need to hold off for a couple of months on the next insemination, if that’s okay with you.” “I’m not going to do it without your permission,” she pointed out. Kelly chuckled. “Fair enough. But if you decide you don’t want to wait for me, that’s okay too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to put your dreams on hold for me.” Shay nodded stiffly. “I won’t. But you have enough on your plate, taking care of yourself and Casey – so that’s enough talking about me! How’s Matt holding up, really?” Cringing, Kelly rubbed his neck. “Um… not great, and I’m not sure how to help him.” “Pour us each a shot of tequila and tell me all about it, babe.” 
November 13, 2013: 
“I want to marry you.” The announcement came on a crisp, clear Chicago night, one year, two months, and three days after Andy Darden died. Kelly and Matt sat together on the back step of Matt’s house, using a gray wool blanket, a six-pack of beer, and one another’s bodies for warmth. While Andy’s 11- and 7-year-old sons slept peacefully inside, Kelly suggested they slip outside for a few minutes to smoke a cigar and talk without being overheard by little ears. Taken aback by the sudden declaration, Matt froze. If he’d given any thought at all to what Kelly wanted to discuss– which, assuming his boyfriend meant “talk” in the metaphorical sense, he did not – this topic wouldn’t even have made his list. “Um, it’s okay if you don’t,” Kelly hurriedly added. “I – I know how important it is to you to have kids, and the whole traditional family. It’s cool.”  “No,” Matt blurted out, grabbing Kelly’s hand from his lap and threading their fingers together. Although he didn’t know how to shape his feelings into words, watching Kelly’s shoulders slump and his chin start to droop drove him to push ahead. “I mean – I want that, too. I – I want to marry you, too. Losing Hallie, it made me realize… Nothing else is as important to me as spending the rest of my life with you. But do you mean like, right away? As soon as the law goes into effect?” His tension draining, Kelly ran his thumb across the back of Matt’s hand and almost imperceptibly shook his head. “No, I know we aren’t ready. We should probably wait at least until Heather gets out of prison anyway, since she doesn’t want the boys living with me.” Matt sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve told her I think she’s wrong. Ben and Griffin adore you.” “It’s fine,” Kelly shrugged. “I would have a hard time with it if I couldn’t see them at all, but it isn’t like I was planning on moving in here right away anyway. I don’t want to leave Shay hanging. I’m just… looking forward to the future.” Matt slowly exhaled, then watched his breath dissipate in the freezing cold air. “It feels kind of weird to be hopeful about the future,” he confessed. “After Hallie… I guess I have a hard time trusting that anything that makes me happy can really last.” Kelly nodded, but took a swig of his beer before he answered. “That’s kind of why I want to marry you,” he explained. “I know, given what we do for a living, I can’t promise that I’ll always be here. But I can promise that I’ll always love you.” Matt suddenly realized he didn’t need the blanket to keep warm. Letting the blanket fall from his shoulders, he turned to take Kelly’s face in his hands, pulling him close for a kiss. With a breath of laughter against Matt’s lips, Kelly kissed him back, his ice cold fingers barely even making Matt twitch as they found their way under the hem of his sweatshirt. “I love you too,” Matt murmured. “But I’m not getting naked out here.” Kelly chuckled. “The list of places we can have sex is getting real narrow, Matt. First you got rid of firehouse sex, now you want to get rid of backyard sex…” “Just when there are kids in the house,” Matt assured him. “Once Ben and Griffin go home, the neighbors can either plant some hedges or enjoy the show.” “I love those kids, but maybe you should think about getting a babysitter for a night we aren’t on shift sometime soon.” Matt raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the suggestion. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Instead of answering with words, Kelly gave him another kiss, holding one hand flat against Matt’s back while the other unbuttoned, unzipped, and infiltrated his jeans. Before Matt even noticed what he was doing, Kelly roughly palmed the front of Matt’s boxers, making him chirp with surprise. “‘Cuz that,” Kelly smirked, while Matt melted against the heat of Kelly’s hand. Kissing Matt’s earlobe and then nipping it between his teeth, he added, “‘Cuz we both know you want me to make you scream my name for the whole neighborhood to hear, but instead, we both have to cum without a sound.” Burying his face against Kelly’s shoulder – which served to both warm his nose and muffle his moans – Matt rutted roughly against his boyfriend’s hand. It didn’t take much – between the body shielding him like a fortress from the cold, the hand working its magic in his pants, and the thrill that came with even the tiniest risk of getting caught, in less than a minute, he was filling his boxers with cum. “I want to marry you, too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Matt woke up with a pounding headache and an overwhelming sense of dread. In a dark, unfamiliar room with early dawn light just starting to peek beneath the window shade, it took him a few seconds to recognize his surroundings. When he did, the pit in his stomach ached even more. Blinking rapidly, he tried to wipe the crust from his eyes, but his right hand stopped short when something tugged on his IV. Taking a look at the tubing, it was easy to find the cause. While he slept, he’d somehow gotten the tube tangled around his waist, the plastic bed rail, and his upper arm, leaving him trapped in a clear plastic web. With all the tossing and turning he must have been doing in his sleep, he was probably lucky he hadn’t pulled the needle from his hand. With that tug, the IV pump’s alarm went off. The rapid, high-pitched beeping seemed to go right through his skull. Groaning, he started to untangle himself, but it wasn’t an easy task. Fortunately, the door popped open before he could even think to call for help. “Good morning,” an unfamiliar nurse greeted him, quickly silencing the alarm. “Wow, you’ve really gotten yourself tangled up! I’m surprised the alarm didn’t go off sooner.” “It’s a metaphor,” Matt said wryly. Her lips twitched like she wanted to laugh at that, but recovering her neutral expression, she continued turning off the pump. “Here, let me disconnect this,” she said, unhooking the line leading to a half-empty bag of saline. “Do you want to go to the bathroom while you’re off-line?” “Uh, sure.” While she unwrapped the IV tube, he slowly stood up from the bed. A wave of dizziness crashed over him, but he took a deep breath and soldiered through. “How do you feel this morning? Any dizziness?” the nurse asked. “I’m good,” he lied. The last thing he needed was to give the doctors another reason to keep him there. It had only been one day, but one day at Chicago Med was more than enough for him. He kept imagining the smell of smoke in his room, half-convinced the place would go up in flames while he slept. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the bathroom attached to his hospital room, he used the toilet, washed his hands, and splashed cold water in his face. Seeing his reflection in the mirror, it was hard to believe the past few days were real. Aside from the IV in his hand and a few small bruises on his arms and legs, he looked no worse for the wear. Kelly and the nurses told him he had a goose egg on the back of his head, but as long as he didn’t reach back to feel it, he could pretend that wasn't there. “Are you okay in there?” the nurse called after about a minute. Cringing, Matt turned off the water and grabbed some paper towels to dry his hands. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.” He reluctantly left the bathroom and climbed back into bed, where the nurse reconnected his IV. “I’ll get your vitals while I’m here so I don’t have to bother you again,” she said. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he held out his arm for the blood pressure cuff. “I think this is your last bag of saline,” the nurse informed him. “Have you been able to drink any water?” He glanced guiltily at the pink plastic pitcher on his bedside table. He hadn’t touched it since its delivery the night before. “I’ll get on that.” “Would you rather have juice?” she asked while the cuff tightened around his arm. He shook his head. “No, thanks. Um… I am starting to feel kind of hungry, though.” He hadn’t eaten anything since the sandwich he was eating when he got Katya’s text on Tuesday afternoon. At least, not really. Kelly snuck him graham crackers from a vending machine in the ED for dinner the night before, but the two bites he managed to swallow came back up seconds later. “I’ll show you how to order breakfast, but in the meantime, I can bring you some crackers or a cup of pudding. Your BP is 132/84 – that’s a lot better than last night.” Matt scowled at his arm, willing his blood pressure to get itself in line. The nurse might be satisfied, but he had higher standards. “Um, some pudding would be nice,” he said. He would probably steer clear of crackers for a while. “Chocolate or vanilla?” “Vanilla,” he decided. If this went badly, he didn’t want to end up with an aversion to chocolate, too. “Here’s your menu,” she said. “Have you been admitted here before?” He nodded, barely glancing at the tri-fold she left on his bedside table. He didn’t need to read it – the menu never changed. “Yeah. They start taking orders at 6:45, right?” “Yep. Do you need anything else?” He shook his head. “Okay, someone will be right in with that pudding, then. Do you want your door open or shut?” “Shut. Thanks.” Thinking over his breakfast options, Matt’s stomach churned. Despite his hunger, nothing sounded good. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, a cup of mixed fruit – each idea sounded worse than the last. When even the thought of toast left him queasy, he decided to just hold off. He would see how he handled the pudding and take it from there. The clock above the door read 6:25 a.m. It was going to be a long day. Before making his way to Matt’s room that morning, Kelly made a pit stop at Shay’s. Although he and Dawson agreed to divide and conquer – she was sitting with Shay, letting him focus his energy on Matt – he still felt compelled to check in and make sure his best friend was okay. And, if he was being honest with himself, he was more than a little bit nervous about seeing Matt. So far, Kelly only knew the bits and pieces he overheard while Matt talked to the doctors and detectives in the ED. That alone was enough to make him fantasize about strangling Voight with his bare hands. As much as he wanted Matt to open up and tell him everything he’d been through – not to mention what the hell he’d been thinking – he was more than a little bit nervous to hear it. “Hey, babe,” Shay greeted him as he hovered in her doorway. She sat in the center of her hospital bed eating a cup of yogurt from home, fully dressed in her signature flannel shirt, jeans, and eyeliner. If it weren’t for the funny mesh-like cap with wires trailing out of the bottom, he wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was wrong. “Hey, Kelly,” Dawson added from her seat beside Shay’s bed. Unlike Shay, she looked worse for the wear – about the same way Kelly felt. The irony of all this was that while Matt and Shay were being forced to rest, the two of them were running on empty. Kind of like their air tanks on Tuesday night. Kelly acknowledged the candidate with a commiserating nod. If his heart still hadn’t stopped racing since their near-miss, he couldn’t imagine she was faring much better. “You look ready to bust out of here and go straight to Molly’s for a drink,” he teased Shay. “I need to wash my hair first, but then I’m good to go,” she agreed. “How’s Matt?” Plopping down on the foot of the bed, Kelly shrugged one shoulder. “He’s hanging in there. I’m still not totally sure what happened, but the doctors seem to think he’ll be okay.”  Physically, at least. But Matt would kill him if he thought he’d been discussing his mental health with Dawson and Shay. Having the 3rd Shift medics see him break down in the ambulance was bad enough. Nobody else needed to hear about it. “If you want to smack Antonio around, I’ll give you a key to his place,” Dawson offered. Kelly cracked a smile. “If you had a key to Hank Voight’s place, I might take you up on that. But I had words with Antonio yesterday, and we’re square. Mostly.” Those “words” with Antonio almost got Kelly kicked out of the ED. He managed to keep his hands to himself (a feat that may not have been possible if anyone else had shown up to interrogate his semi-conscious boyfriend), but filtering his language was another matter. Despite Nurse Lockwood’s fondness for both firefighters in general and the one who jumped on a grenade to protect her nurses in particular, yelling “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” across her ED apparently crossed a line. But it was Antonio who convinced security not to kick him out, managing to sound every bit as calm and reasonable as he always did. Kelly hated that about him, in moments like these. No matter what his friends were going through and how directly responsible his boss was, Detective Dawson tried to act like the voice of reason. He spoke to the firefighters like they were all his hotheaded younger siblings, but despite the condescending attitude, he had a pretty great track record of coming through for them in the end. Kelly talked with the women for a few minutes before continuing to Matt’s room. His stomach was still in knots, but Shay’s high spirits boosted his own. Nothing could make him completely stop worrying, given all he’d learned about TBIs in the past two years – but at least he knew she was safe for now. Conveniently, Matt’s room was on the same floor as Shay’s. Kelly easily found his way through the maze of identical white corridors, nurse’s stations, and swinging fire doors to the southwest corner of the building, where a sign on the wall instructed visitors to push a button and wait for someone to escort them into the unit. The nurse who opened the door checked his ID against the information on her tablet. “Do you have any knives, multi-tools, or other potential weapons on your person?” “No, I left anything sharp in the car.” After having to empty half the contents of his pockets in a bin at the nurse’s station the day before, he planned ahead this time. It was kind of silly – he would attack someone with his bare hands before thinking to draw his Leatherman – but he was glad they took Matt’s safety seriously enough to check. “Okay, you can go on back. Second door on the right.” Outside Matt’s room, Kelly paused to take a deep, steadying breath before he knocked on the door. “Hey, it’s Kelly,” he said as he pushed the door open. “Kelly? Kelly who?” Matt asked, smirking up at him from the chair beside the bed. The tray across his lap held two cups of juice, a single slice of toast, and assorted packets of butter and jelly – none of which Matt appeared to have touched. Kelly rolled his eyes. “Very funny.” “Did you get any sleep?” “Yep,” Kelly answered, leaning over Matt’s breakfast tray to peck him on the lips. “What about you?” Matt shrugged. “Some. This is a shitty place to try to sleep, especially with an IV running. But I feel a lot better than I did last night.” “You still look like crap,” Kelly told him, even though it wasn’t precisely true. His face had lost the deathlike pallor of the previous day, and the dark circles under his eyes no longer rivaled Shay’s eyeliner game. But that didn’t mean he needed to convince himself he was fine. “Gee, thanks,” Matt scoffed, but a grin peeked out from behind his scowl. “Don’t let me interrupt your breakfast,” Kelly said, taking a seat on the bed. “Is this the first thing you’ve had to eat since the crackers?” Matt pushed the tray an inch or two further from his body. “I had a cup of pudding about an hour ago. I think that might be enough for now.” Kelly bit back his first response of “you’ve gotta eat” – his 36-year-old boyfriend clearly knew that. “Your stomach’s still bothering you, then?” Matt bit the inside of his cheek, but quickly let it go when he saw Kelly’s raised eyebrows. “A little, I guess. Normal hangover stuff.” A “normal hangover” didn’t usually last 24 hours or require an emergency CT to check for a fractured skull, but Kelly wasn’t one to split hairs. “Well, that’s no good. How are you feeling otherwise?” Matt shrugged. “I’m okay.” Unsure how hard he should push, Kelly nodded and fell silent. After a minute or two, Matt pulled the tray back up to his lap and started picking apart his toast. “Um… Do you want to talk about it?” Kelly asked about five minutes later. Finally glancing back up at him, Matt shrugged again. “I guess we have to. But I don’t really know how.” “Is it okay if I… ask about it?” Matt shrugged. “Sure.” Kelly rubbed his neck in thought. “Um, you’re right, it is hard to figure out where to start. I guess… Other than the blow to the back of your head, did they hurt you?” Directing his gaze back to his toast, Matt shook his head. “No.” “Was that… Um, was that how they took you? By knocking you out from behind?” Matt shook his head again. “No. They, uh, they put us in a van at gunpoint.” Pressing his lips together, Kelly nodded. That was somehow a lot harder to picture. He would have expected Matt to fight to the death before letting himself be kidnapped. His gratitude that it didn’t turn out that way did little to ease his concern. “So they put you in a van, and they took you… where?” “You’ll have to ask Antonio,” Matt deflected. “Um, it was a commercial property Nesbitt owned. They were planning to turn it into another strip club. But as far as what neighborhood it was in, I couldn’t tell you.” “And… Why? Why kidnap two people and blow any chance they had of getting away with everything?” “Well, I don’t think they intended for it to turn out the way it did,” Matt pointed out. “Nesbitt didn’t exactly go all Bond villain on me, but looking back on everything that happened, my best guess is that they wanted to intimidate me – and Katya – into either cooperating with them or at least not cooperating with the police. They threatened our families – you stayed with Clarke last night, right?” “Yep,” Kelly assured him. “I called Christie, too. She and Violet are going to stay with one of her friends for the next couple of days.” That was actually Antonio’s idea. She came around so rarely, Kelly might not have thought of her as a potential target, but the detective pointed out that Matt and Christie’s familial relationship could be discovered with a 30-second internet search. Matt sighed. “Thanks. I appreciate that. But damn, I’m sick of this. I know I brought it on myself this time –” Kelly cut him off. “This isn’t your fault, Matt. You were trying to help. And it’s not even like you were going rogue – Voight practically knocked down our damn door begging you to get involved. You tried to say no.” Matt took a deep breath, then released it in a long, shaky exhale. “Um… I guess I need to just get it out there. I did tell Voight no, several times. And I did change my mind because I thought I could help Katya. But also…” He trailed off, and Kelly gave him the time he needed to gather his thoughts. “Voight… He caught me drinking in the passenger’s seat of my truck. I wasn’t driving, but… He threatened to arrest me if I didn’t agree to be his CI with Nesbitt, and he threatened to tell IAB I made a deal to get out of a DUI if I didn’t come through.” “That bastard.” Remembering his conversation with Nurse Lockwood, Kelly took a beat and adjusted his volume. “I wish I could say I can’t believe he blackmailed you, but…” “The man only has one move, and I played right into his hands.” Kelly shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I mean, yeah, I’m a little bit worried about the choices you’ve been making, especially the drinking and all the lying. But you didn’t create this situation, and you were just trying to help.” Matt swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Yeah. I guess. Just… badly. It turns out, I might be the world’s worst CI.” Kelly wouldn’t necessarily call that a bad thing, if it kept Voight from asking again. “You’ve barely been keeping it together these past couple of weeks,” he gently reminded him. “If Voight found you drinking in your truck, he should have known you weren’t in the right state of mind for this. He’s been all up in our business for the past year and a half – he knew you were sober.” Matt sighed again. “Yeah. I did it all for nothing, anyway. Not only did Katya die because of me, I ratted myself out to Boden, so now Voight doesn’t have to.” Kelly frowned. “It wasn’t because of you. It was because of Nesbitt, and the other traffickers. Not you.” Matt’s breath hitched, and his red-rimmed eyes suddenly filled with tears. Sniffling, he looked up at the ceiling as if trying to stop his tears from leaking out. His heart shattering at the sight of Matt’s tears, Kelly got up and moved the bedside table away from his chair, clearing the way for a hug. “Kelly…” Matt whispered, resting his forehead against Kelly’s shoulder. “I’m here, angel,” Kelly assured him, cupping the back of his neck with one hand and wrapping the other around his waist. “It’s okay, love. You can lean on me.” Kelly knelt there, murmuring reassurances in Matt’s ear and rubbing his back, until the blonde’s full-bodied sobs turned to sniffles and occasional, silent shudders. Matt must have been exhausted. Having cried out all his tears, he slumped forward as if he was going to fall asleep in Kelly’s arms. “Let’s get you into bed, ‘kay?” Kelly suggested. “I’ll sit right here with you.” Matt sniffled again. “Yeah.” Kelly’s knees groaned as he stood up from the floor. His doms had him spoiled, always giving him a pillow to kneel on during scenes. The thought made his aching heart smile, and he pressed a thankful kiss against Matt’s cheek while helping him into bed. “I’ll be okay, Sev.” Kelly pulled the blanket up over Matt’s lap. “I know you will. But you’re not right now, and you don’t have to pretend to be.” The door opened with a soft click, and Matt flinched. Pursing his lips, Kelly squeezed his knee through the blanket. Matt was never jumpy. “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked. “I’m okay,” Matt predictably answered. Kelly hoped the nurse didn’t notice his eye roll – or maybe it would be better if she did. “There’s a detective here to see you,” she informed them. “Which one is it?” Kelly asked. “Uh, I didn’t catch his name, but – tall, dark, and handsome, from the Intelligence Unit.” Matt let out a weak, breathy laugh, and Kelly’s lips twitched too. He would love to see Antonio’s reaction to being described that way. “Okay, send him in,” Matt requested. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly sat up in the bed. “So much for my nap.” “Do you want me to step out?” Kelly asked once the nurse left. Shaking his head, Matt took Kelly’s hand. “No. I want to tell you everything, but I don’t want to say it twice. At least not twice in one day. You should stay.” “Thank you. And hey, if you want me to throw him out on his ass, just let me know.” To his relief, that earned a tiny smile from Matt. His muscles still tensed as Antonio walked in, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. “Kelly, Matt,” the detective greeted them. “How are you feeling this morning, buddy?” “I’m okay,” Matt answered softly. Even sitting just inches apart, Kelly could barely make out his words. “Kelly, do you want to take a coffee break? I just need to clarify a few things with Matt real quick. It’ll only take 15, 20 minutes, tops.” Kelly shook his head. “I’m good.” “I asked him to stay,” Matt explained. Antonio frowned. “I really have to insist on talking with Matt alone for a few minutes. You can wait right outside, but that’s the best I can do.” Kelly looked to Matt for confirmation before he moved. At the blonde’s defeated nod, he reluctantly got to his feet. He would go toe-to-toe with the former Golden Glove without hesitation if Matt needed him to, but with Nesbitt and his accomplices still at large, the detective was probably Matt’s best shot of walking the streets of Chicago without looking over his shoulder anytime soon. “I’ll be right outside.” Once Kelly stepped into the hall, Antonio pushed the door shut and turned to Matt. “How are you holding up, really?” “As well as can be expected,” Matt answered. “I’ll be better when Nesbitt and the others are in custody. Any luck tracking them down?” Antonio shook his head. “No news yet. We could use your help on that, actually.” “I would check with the airports,” Matt suggested. “Other than that, I have no clue.” “We were wondering if Nesbitt ever talked about any friends, girlfriends, family – anyone he might hide out with?” Matt shook his head. “No… I didn’t get the impression that he had many personal relationships. I know he burned his bridges with the CFD. Based on the way he tried to hit on me, I doubt he has a girlfriend, but you never know.” “Did he mention traveling or spending time anywhere specific?” Matt took a moment to think back over their conversations. “I know he travels for business within the States a lot, especially the Midwest. He’s mentioned Kansas City once or twice in the past. And… as he was letting me go, he told me the trafficking ring has connections in Milwaukee, Detroit, St. Louis, and Ontario. It came across like a warning to stay away from those places. Since he’s cooperating with ATF, or says he is, I’m not sure if he would hide out in one of those places or steer clear of them too.” “He told you he’s cooperating?” Antonio asked, his voice rising sharply. “You didn’t know that?” Antonio shook his head. “No. We’ve been coordinating with ATF, and they never mentioned it.” “Or Voight didn’t tell you,” Matt suggested. “I’ll look into it,” Antonio deflected. “In the meantime, I also wanted to follow up with you about the gun. I know you couldn’t remember what happened to it yesterday. Has anything come back to you since we talked?” Matt sighed. “No… Nothing more than I already told you. I’m sure I didn’t toss it, but I must have put it down somewhere. It definitely wasn’t at my apartment?” Antonio shook his head. “No. Admittedly, we didn’t toss the place, but it isn’t anywhere in the open, and we did a more thorough search of the bathroom where Severide found you without finding it. Is there anywhere else you think you might have put it?” “No,” Matt answered. “I don’t remember being home at all, so I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think so. I must have left it in the cab.” “Okay…” Antonio said slowly, tapping his fingers against his notepad. “I’d like to try something to help you remember more about that night. It might sound a little hoaky, but bear with me.”  Matt nodded. “Close your eyes and try to put yourself back in the moment. We’ll start with walking out the door of the restaurant after Nesbitt let you go. What were you thinking, right that second, as you stepped out onto the sidewalk?” 
Late Tuesday Night:  
Holding his breath, Matt listened carefully for any sign of movement in the back of the restaurant while he slipped out the front. With the 2x4 he pried from the door a few minutes ago still lying on the ground, he only had to open the deadbolt, and he was free.  It can’t be that easy. Nesbitt had to be playing him somehow, but he would analyze his motives later. For now, he needed to get home, get in touch with Antonio, and, at the first opportunity, throw himself into Kelly’s arms and weep. But to do any of that, he first had to get through the next five minutes without being shot. Standing in front of the empty restaurant, Matt looked up and down the street. It looked like he was on the outer edges of the city – the tallest building on the block was just three stories high, and there were only two cars parked on the street. The lights in all the storefronts were off, and in the 20 seconds or so that he stood there, not a single car drove past. After assessing the situation, he did the only thing he could – he picked a direction and ran. After a couple of blocks, he came to a cross street that led to a busier commercial strip. Looking over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone, he sprinted in that direction. Hoping to find a gas station or convenience store where he could catch his breath and borrow a phone, he ran past darkened restaurants, auto parts stores, and hardware stores he’d never heard of. He definitely wasn’t in Pilsen, or any other neighborhood in his district. 
Where the hell did they bring me? 
It wasn’t until a jet roared low overhead that he started to find his bearings. He grew up near O’Hare, and this area bore no resemblance to that. If not there, then he had to be in the southwestern corner of the city, close to Midway – and that meant a sea of strip malls and 3-star hotels couldn’t be far. Focused on that puzzle, Matt nearly ran into a man on the sidewalk. One second, the path in front of him was clear, but by the time he looked over his shoulder and turned back, someone had stepped out in his way. Sucking his breath in sharply through gritted teeth, Matt stumbled backwards and raised his hands in apology. “Sorry.” The man shook his head and walked away without a word, leaving Matt standing awkwardly on the sidewalk. Breathing raggedly, Matt pressed his hand over his pulsating chest and took a few seconds to look around. The awning above the door the man came out of read “Bulls Head Sports Bar & Lounge,” and the neon “open” sign was still lit up. Matt glanced over the hours posted by the entrance, but with no watch and no phone, he had no idea what time it was then. Sometime before 3:00, he guessed. Swallowing a sudden rush of nerves, Matt opened the door and walked inside. Despite the scarcity of cars on the street, the inside of the bar was surprisingly lively, with people sitting at more than half the tables and a small crowd around the bar. Matt immediately looked for the bathroom, needing a moment to regroup before he tried to approach anyone. He didn’t see a sign, though, and he hesitated to start trying unmarked doors. “Excuse me… Can I use the bathroom?” he asked the bartender. Without turning his head, he pointed to a sign written in marker and framed behind the bar – “bathroom key for customers only.”  Scanning the shelf beneath the sign, Matt patted his back pockets to make sure he still had his wallet. By some miracle, he did, so he opened it up and put a $20 bill down on the counter. “I’ll have however many shots of Jameson this will buy,” he requested, making sure the handgun stayed hidden in his jacket while he settled on a stool. The bartender silently lined up three shot glasses on the counter and filled them with golden elixir. Matt waited until he moved on to the next customer before taking the first, not wanting him to notice his shaking hands. He downed the three shots with a single breath between each one, wishing he had more. They took the edge off, though, and his hands were steady when he stood. His mind started to clear, too, and he finally came up with a plan. First, he needed to use the bathroom, wash his face, and catch his breath. Then he would get someone to call him a cab home, where he would wait for Kelly to get off shift and have him call Antonio. Without Dawson or Voight’s numbers memorized, his only other option was to file a report with whatever patrolmen were working this part of town tonight, and that wouldn’t be a productive use of anyone’s time. With a frown that made Herrmann seem mellow in comparison, the bartender passed him a key hooked to a wooden dowel and pointed towards one of the unlabeled doors. “Go ahead, then. But if you shoot up in there, I’ll call the cops.” Rubbing his forehead, Matt frowned. “Um… I think I might have left the gun in the bathroom at the bar. It’s all still a blur from the time I started drinking, but that’s the last place I can remember having it for sure. Maybe the owner turned it in to the local station?” The flash of aggravation on Antonio’s face didn’t hold a candle to Matt’s own frustration. He was a first responder, trained to handle situations worse than anything he went through that night, and yet he somehow misplaced a murder weapon.   “Stupid” didn’t even start to cover it. “You said the place was called Bulls Head?” Antonio asked. “Not Bullseye?” Matt squeezed his eyes shut again. “Yeah… I’m pretty sure.” He doubted himself now, the letters on the awning swimming in his memory. Maybe it did say “eye.” “That shouldn’t be hard to find, then,” Antonio said, flipping his notepad shut. “I’ll let you know if I have any luck talking with the bartender. Thanks, Casey. This really helps.” Matt nodded. “I hope so. And I’m sorry again, about all of this. I know I really fucked this up.” “This investigation was fucked before you got involved,” Antonio said frankly. “We wouldn’t have nearly as much as we do without your help. Don’t beat yourself up.” It was impossible not to, with Katya’s bloodshot eyes and flaring nostrils burned into his memory. She trusted him to help her save other women’s lives. Instead, he stood by and watched her be killed. He failed her in the worst possible way, and nothing could ever make it right.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Before leaving Matt’s room, Detective Dawson asked Kelly to come back in. Matt hastily straightened in the hospital bed, meeting his boyfriend’s raised eyebrow with a tight-lipped smile and a nod.

“So, here’s the deal,” Dawson began once Kelly closed the door. “We have warrants for Nesbitt and the other two, but unfortunately, we have no idea where they are. There’s a good chance they’ve already left town, but even so, you’re both in serious danger. These people are very well-connected, and without Katya, your testimony is going to be the linchpin of this case. We need to come up with a plan to keep you safe, especially for the next couple of weeks.”

Matt’s chest tightened, but he didn’t let it show.

“I’ve dealt with worse situations than this,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit,”

Kelly muttered.

Matt ignored him. “I appreciate your concern, Antonio, really. But you should focus on finding Nesbitt. Make sure he doesn’t get away with this. I can take care of myself.”

Kelly’s bottom lip made an appearance, but Matt didn’t let himself be swayed.

Stepping closer, Antonio slowly shook his head. “Respectfully, Lieutenant… We’re only having this conversation because, for whatever reason, Nesbitt chose to let you go.”

“Excuse

me?” Kelly said sharply.

Antonio ignored him, too. “I strongly recommend that you get out of town for at least a few days while we get a handle on this situation.”

Matt opened his mouth to object, but the detective raised a hand to silence him.

“I know what you’re going to say, but you need to hear me. Not only is

your

life in danger, everyone around you is going to be at risk, too. We’re dealing with people who kill entire families. I know how capable you are, but is your ego worth putting other lives at risk? Severide’s?”

Matt bristled. “It’s not about ego. I’ll get a motel room and lay low for a couple of days, and Severide can stay with Clarke. But I’m not going to let Nesbitt drive me out of town. That’s exactly what he wants.”

“That’s your ego talking,” Kelly accused, moving to stand between Antonio and Matt.

“Kelly,”

Matt snapped.

“No,

Matt,” Kelly barked. “You need to

listen.

Not even two days ago, you got hit in the head hard enough to knock you out. Your brain could have been bleeding, and you decided to add alcohol to the mix. You almost

died.

If I hadn’t found you when I did – if I’d spent any longer at the hospital with Shay, if Dawson hadn’t called to tell me you were missing – you could be

dead

right now! And you

knew

what could happen, because

we just went through this last year!”

Kelly’s volume rose with each word until he yelled the final sentence. His heart racing and his throat going dry, Matt stared up at him in shock.

“Kelly,” Antonio said evenly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What happened to Shay?” Matt asked, cringing a little at the tremor in his own voice.

Kelly’s beet-red face blanched for just a second, but he quickly regained his momentum. “She has a

TBI,

Matt. She’s going to be living with the effects of that for the rest of her life. Kind of like

you

–”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his tirade. Matt flinched and then silently swore at himself for his reaction, hoping the other men didn’t notice.

“Lt. Severide, step outside, please,” Dr. Charles said, appearing in the doorway. “Detective, are you done here?”

“Yes,” Antonio answered. “But Matt, I strongly recommend that you let us get you a room in a hotel outside of town. You’re not safe in Chicago right now.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Dr. Charles said, waving him toward the door. “Step out here with me, please. Matt, I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”

Matt nodded, in no position to decline. “‘Kay.”

Despite Kelly’s clear reluctance to leave, he wordlessly obeyed the doctor’s order. Releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Matt slumped back against the bed.

Although they pulled the door shut behind them, it didn’t latch, enabling him to listen in on their conversation.

“Lieutenant, I understand your frustration, and the fear that’s driving it. I appreciate your concern for your brother, but it’s important that we keep his environment as calm as possible right now. I can’t have you yelling and berating my patient, so I need to ask you to leave.”

“He’s not my

brother.”

Kelly sounded disgusted, as if they hadn’t spent years encouraging everyone to see them that way.

Matt squeezed his eyes closed.

Don’t do it…

“Severide…” Antonio cautioned him.

“No, I’m

done

with all the lying,” Kelly snapped. “You’re his psychiatrist, right? So you should know who he is, if you’re going to help him.”

Instead of drowning out Kelly’s next words, the sudden ringing in Matt’s ears only served to amplify them.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Kelly announced for all the world to hear. “We’re not brothers, we’re in love, and we have been for years. So I know him better than anyone. He’s the best person I’ve ever known, but he’s so weighed down with his own shame and misplaced guilt about the people he can’t save that he doesn’t let himself see it. He’s going to tell you everything that happened is his own fault, that he can pick up the pieces and take care of himself, and he’s going to be convincing – but he

can’t.

He – He’s completely out of touch with reality. He needs help, and I don’t know how to help him. So

please,

Doctor… don’t let him brush this off.”

Listening to his boyfriend’s impassioned plea, the dam in Matt’s chest broke. Aside from the first few words, that wasn’t at all what he expected to hear. His breath catching in his throat, he pressed his thumbs against his eyelids to stem the flow of tears.

What the hell is wrong with me?

No matter how miserable he felt, he’d never been one to sit around and cry about his feelings. But suddenly, it was all he seemed capable of doing.

Matt couldn’t make out the psychiatrist’s response to Kelly’s declaration, but he could imagine the gist.

I’m screwed.

If he ever had any chance of going back to work in a week or two like nothing happened, that was blown now. Dr. Charles would

never

clear him to return to work at Firehouse 51.

After about 30 seconds, he realized he couldn’t hear their voices at all anymore. They must have moved further down the hall. With an unexpected pang of anxiety, Matt contemplated jumping out of bed and asking Kelly not to leave.

“Come back,”

a tiny voice inside him wanted to beg.

“Don’t give up on me.”

He would never actually do that, of course, but choosing inaction made every muscle in his body ache. Closing his eyes again, he shoved those feelings down. Kelly would come back once they both had time to cool off, like they always did after a fight. In the meantime, Matt needed to focus on getting his blood pressure under control so he could go home.

As if on cue, a wide-eyed nursing aide pushed the door open a few inches. “Hey, Mr. Casey, the doc asked me to check your vitals.”

“Great,” Matt sighed.

Staring up at the ceiling, he willed his racing heart to calm down. The aide, who couldn’t have been more than a year or two out of high school, avoided making eye contact while wrapping the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Content with the awkward silence – and painfully aware that she must have heard every word Kelly said – Matt relaxed against the pillow and closed his eyes.

When the cuff loosened its iron grip on his bicep, the aide grunted with surprise. “Um, I’m going to check this again. Sorry.”

Matt slowly exhaled. “What does it say?”

“Um… 142 over 90.”

“I think that’s probably right,” he sheepishly confessed. “But yeah, please, check it again.”

“Okay…” she said slowly. “Um, are you having any chest pain or shortness of breath?”

Despite the weight on his chest, making it almost impossible to draw a full breath, he shook his head. That wasn’t the kind of ‘shortness of breath’ she was asking about.

“No, I feel okay.”

When the cuff deflated again, the aide’s frown told him the numbers were no better.

“What is it?”

“144/92,” she answered. “Um, either the nurse or the doctor will be right in.”

Once she left the room, Matt groaned into his hands.

“Damn.”

He wasn’t even that upset about Kelly’s initial outburst. It caught him by surprise, after the patient, unwavering support Kelly had been showing him otherwise – but it was hardly unprecedented. In fact, it was exactly how he would have expected Kelly to react in the first place. He’d obviously been suppressing his frustration – and his judgment – out of concern for Matt, but the man could only keep a lid on his emotions for so long. That was one of the things Matt loved most about him.

Outing him to Dr. Charles was going to be tougher to forgive. But even in his anger, betrayal, and fear (mostly fear, if he was honest with himself), Kelly was the person he wanted to lean on. He supposed he’d known for a while now that the truth needed to come out – or rather,

they

did – if they were ever going to move forward with the life they’d dreamed of spending together. He would have liked to have some control over that process… but, he told himself, maybe this was for the best.

His heart rate spiked when the door opened again, but at least he didn’t flinch. Progress.

“I’m not crazy,” he said as Dr. Charles walked in. “Kelly is just… scared.”

That was more generous than most of the descriptions he could apply to Kelly’s actions.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “Not really a fan of that word, but – I know.”

Biting the inside of his lip, Matt looked down at his hands.

Dr. Charles pulled the chair a few inches further away from the bed. “Mind if I sit while we talk?”

Matt tilted his head in assent. “Have a seat.”

“How are you feeling today?” Dr. Charles asked once he settled into the chair.

“I’m okay,” Matt said with more fervor than he intended.

“That’s good to hear,” Dr. Charles said earnestly. “And how are you doing physically? Headache?”

Matt shook his head. “Nope.”

“Any dizziness? Lightheadedness? Nausea?”

By the time Matt shook his head three more times, the whole room was spinning.

“No blurry vision, spots in your vision, anything like that?”

“No, Doc,” Matt answered, becoming exasperated. “When I said I’m okay, I meant

physically.”

“Oh,”

Dr. Charles said, as if that was a huge revelation. “Well, that’s great, then.”

Matt nodded on cue.

“And how are you doing emotionally?”

Matt chuckled. “I’m okay emotionally, too. Eager to get out of here and get back to work, but I know I need to rest for a couple of days.”

“I’ve never known a firefighter who didn’t hate being in the hospital, but it goes beyond that for you, doesn’t it?” Dr. Charles asked.

Shrugging one shoulder, Matt wondered what he was implying. “I don’t know about that.”

“I understand that you were here when the hospital caught fire a few months ago. I heard you rescued all of the other patients on your unit without any equipment or gear, while recovering from an injury yourself.”

Matt nodded slightly. It hadn’t even been six months since that happened, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

“And then – I remember that you were here the day of the suicide bombing in the Emergency Department, too,” Dr. Charles continued. “You were injured sometime after the initial blast, right?”

“An angry patient hit me in the head with a piece of metal, like the leg of a chair or something. It was nothing major.”

“I saw they kept you under observation for a couple of days with a Grade 3 concussion,” Dr. Charles pointed out. “For most people, that would be pretty major.”

“They were just being cautious,” Matt assured him. “I barely even had a headache.”

“Now, I know that wasn’t your first concussion.”

Matt let out a wry laugh. “No.”

“The major one – the skull fracture – that was in…”

“December 2013,” Matt supplied.

“What symptoms did you have that time?” the doctor asked.

Struggling not to let his annoyance show, Matt told him the highlights – memory loss, mood swings, and weeks of splitting headaches. He didn’t delve into the details, steering clear of any mention of the bar fight he picked with Vince Keeler or the gun-wielding robber he punched in the face during a call. Dr. Charles listened attentively, asking just a few clarifying questions without pushing too hard.

“So when you were cleared to return to work after that second round of rehab, the neurologist talked about the risks associated with further head injuries after a skull fracture like that?”

The hair on Matt’s arms stood on end. “Did something show up on my scans?”

“Your CT didn’t reveal any current bleeding or fractures, but they did find evidence of an older hairline fracture on your occipital bone, right around here,” Dr. Charles explained, pointing to the back of his own head. “The neuroradiologist says it looks to be between 3 and 6 months old. Do you think that’s from the day of the bombing, or have there been any other incidents?”

Furrowing his brow, Matt shook his head. “I can’t think of anything else, but didn’t they do a CT that day?”

“They did,” Dr. Charles confirmed, “But unfortunately, the scan that day wasn’t as clear, and the fracture wasn’t apparent.”

“What does this mean for me?” Matt asked frankly.

“Your neurologist and I would like to do an MRI while you’re here in the hospital,” Dr. Charles informed him. “We’re going to be looking for evidence of both acute injuries from this week and anything that might still be affecting you from the last time.”

“What do you think you’re going to find?”

“I hope we don’t find much at all,” Dr. Charles said, not quite answering the question. “We’re looking for things like damage to your nerve axons, a bleed too small to pick up on CT, bruising, scarring, anything that might have gone unnoticed after your past concussions.”

“Okay,” Matt consented. “And if you find something?”

“We’ll sit down and work with you to come up with a treatment plan. The MRI is really just the first step. Knowing more about how you’ve been feeling over the past couple of months would be really helpful. Even if you haven’t had any of the symptoms you would usually associate with post-concussion syndrome, it’s possible that you’ve been affected in more subtle ways. Your boyfriend mentioned some behavioral changes in the past few weeks.”

Matt’s fingers clenched the blanket in his lap. Dr. Charles’ soft, non-judgmental tone did little to ease his nerves. Actually, it put him even more on edge.

“I think Sev– Kelly – would like to have something to blame for some of the things I’ve said and done lately, but… I knew what I was doing. I made some bad choices, and I own that. But I’m not… I’m not out of control, or out of touch. I know I need to get it together, and I will. I’ve done it before.”

Dr. Charles leaned in closer. “You’ve been sober for a few months, right?”

Matt rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, since September.”

“Can you tell me more about that? How did you reach that decision, and how did you pull it off?”

Unable to think of a way to tell the psychiatrist to piss off without making his current situation even worse, Matt complied.

“Yeah, um… I had a rough couple of years, I guess you could say. I lost a couple of people close to me, and then I had my skull fracture, and then another close friend broke her neck and got a TBI – all on calls I was on. I’m usually pretty resilient, but I guess the cumulative effect of it all – it wore me down. Eventually, I realized – Kelly helped me realize – I wasn’t just drinking to relax after a bad day anymore; I was making myself too numb to feel anything at all. That was getting in the way of my work and my relationship, so I quit.”

“What was quitting like for you?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Matt said, thinking of the men in his support group who’d struggled for years to get sober. “It took a couple of weeks to stop missing the beer in my hand while I ate dinner or watched TV, but I didn’t really have a withdrawal or anything.”

“Was that the first time you’ve ever tried to cut back on your drinking?”

Matt shrugged. “I guess. There have been other times when I realized I needed to dial it back, but it was never a big deal. Last summer was the first time it ever got me in trouble.”

“Did you have any support with quitting? Did you go to AA, or talk to your doctor?”

“My friends supported me, and we’ve been going to a support group through the CFD’s employee assistance program about once a week.”

“We?” Dr. Charles echoed.

Matt’s neck and ears started to burn. “Me and Kelly.”

“Oh, did Kelly stop drinking too?” Matt could see the gears turning in the psychiatrist’s head – probably recalling their encounters at Molly’s.

“No,” Matt said with a slight shake of his head, “Kelly – He had a little bit of a problem with painkillers after an injury a couple years back, but he mostly goes to the meetings to support me. He actually moderates his drinking pretty well, at least compared to a lot of firefighters I know.”

“What does that look like?” Dr. Charles asked. “Moderating his drinking?”

Matt pressed his lips together in thought for a few seconds. “Well… He usually decides how much he’s going to drink and then sticks to it. Like if he says he’s going to have ‘a beer’ when we stop by Molly’s, he actually drinks one beer. Or even when he’s partying – not as much lately, but in our 20’s – he cuts himself off before he gets to the point of blacking out or making himself sick.”

“That tends to be harder for you?”

Blowing air through his lips, Matt nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Moderation can be tough for me, too,” Dr. Charles admitted. “Tuesday night, was that the first time you’ve had a drink in a while?”

“Not exactly,” Matt confessed, looking down at his lap. “There have been two or three other times in the past couple of weeks.”

“Two or three?” Dr. Charles asked neutrally.

Matt cringed. “More than three. I’m not sure exactly.”

“When was the first time you had a drink after September?”

“I don’t remember the exact date, but it was sometime in April. It – It wasn’t a bender like the other night, though. The first few times, I just had a few sips.”

While Dr. Charles glanced up at the monitor with a read-out of Matt’s heart rate and oxygen saturation, Matt took a steadying breath. Reaching across the bed, Dr. Charles took the pitcher from his bedside table. He poured some of the water into a plastic cup, then offered it to Matt.

“How does your body feel right now?” he asked.

Matt did a quick self-assessment.

“I’m okay,” he said, accepting the cup without bringing it to his lips. “I mean – I can tell my heart is racing, and I’m concerned about that, but otherwise, I feel okay.”

Dr. Charles raised his eyebrows, but didn’t contradict him. “Are you good with continuing this conversation now, or would you like to take a break and pick it up after lunch?”

“Let’s get it over with.”

Matt took a small sip of water and tried to relax. After more than a decade as a firefighter, he was usually in tune with his body enough to regulate his breathing and heart rate, but it wasn’t happening that day. That didn’t have to be a sign of a brain injury, though – he was probably just too tired.

“Okay,” Dr. Charles said agreeably, sliding his chair over to have a clearer view of the monitor. “But you know, Matt, even if we find that there’s nothing physically going on with you beyond alcohol poisoning and a mild concussion, this isn’t an event you bounce back from with some IV fluids and a single conversation. I don’t have to be your therapist, but I’m going to strongly recommend that you follow up with someone.”

Matt couldn’t imagine that talking to a therapist would help, but he nodded. Disagreeing with the psychiatrist only made it more likely that he would keep him in the hospital or deny his return to work.

“I get that.”

“That’s good,” the doctor smiled. “Now, can you tell me a little more about those first few times you had some sips of alcohol, back in April? What led to that decision?”

Matt rubbed his hands together, suddenly realizing how cold it was in his room.

“Looking at what happened the other night, I feel like an idiot for this. I can see now that I was wrong. But… after a few months of sobriety and going to meetings, I started to feel like I was being dramatic about the whole thing. The stories the other guys told about their drinking days – and even the way most of them are still struggling to get their lives back on track now, after years of sobriety… I felt kind of embarrassed to label myself in the same category as them.”

“Like you were embarrassed to be associated with them?” Dr. Charles asked.

Matt shook his head. “No. More like… they’ve been through hell. Alcoholism has wrecked their relationships, their careers, some of them have even lost their homes and custody of their kids. In comparison, my drinking made me a little moody. It put stress on my work and my relationship with Kelly, but what I went through was

nothing

compared to those guys. Even at the height of my drinking, I was able to do my job as a Lieutenant, run a contracting business, and take care of my friends in a time of need. I was miserable doing it, but I would have been miserable even without the alcohol. Alcohol was a crutch for me, but for the other guys in the group, it was the source of their biggest problems. Eventually, I started to feel like that label – alcoholic – didn’t really apply to me, like I was overreacting all along.”

“Have you heard the term ‘high-functioning alcoholic’ before?” Dr. Charles asked.

Cringing, Matt nodded. “Yeah. I see that now.”

“It’s surprisingly common, especially in helping professions – first responders, doctors, even therapists. You’re definitely not the first to question whether your substance use disorder is real. But I can tell you, based on what I’ve seen and the conversations we’ve had since you came into the ER, you do meet the diagnostic criteria for a moderate to severe alcohol use disorder.”

“I understand that,” Matt answered. “I know that no matter what else might have factored into the way I’ve been feeling these past couple of weeks, drinking only made things worse. I’m going to quit again, and stick to it this time. That won’t be a problem.”

“I really respect your willingness to make that commitment. I know you’re a man of your word,” Dr. Charles told him with an earnest smile. “I do want to warn you that I think you might find it a little more difficult this time around. Between what you went through the other night and these back-to-back brain injuries, I wouldn’t be surprised if you struggle with impulse control, regulating your emotions, or a lower frustration tolerance – all of which can make it harder to stay sober.”

Matt nodded slightly, not sure what to say.

“I don’t mean to discourage you, but I think it would be wise to come up with a plan to make sure you have the support you need during these first few weeks of sobriety and while you process everything that’s happened. Would you be open to talking through some options? The choice of what treatment plan to go with will ultimately be up to you.”

“We can talk about it,” Matt allowed. “Uh, my chief – my battalion chief, that is – he said I can’t come back to work until I get medical clearance,
before
Tuesday. So I guess I’ve accepted that I’m going to have to jump through some hoops this time if I want to keep my job.”

“What happened there?” the doctor asked.

Rubbing his hands against his knees through the blanket, Matt took a deep breath before answering. “Um, a few things, none of which are going to sound very good.”

“People who only tell me stories that make them sound good don’t tend to make much progress in therapy,” Dr. Charles pointed out. “I’m here to help, not to judge – so lay it on me.”

In halting words, Matt summarized the conversation he had with Chief Boden during the weekend shift. His breath caught in his throat when he got to the story of the Percocet, but he gathered his courage and told the truth. If he hadn’t already ratted himself out to the chief, he might have taken the secret to his grave. But Boden would want to know he’d discussed it with the doctors before he could go back to work.

“I swear I’m not a drug addict,” he finished, forcing himself to meet the doctor’s eyes. “I know that’s exactly what an addict would say, but it’s true. I – I really screwed up by taking those pills, and I know it could have gotten bad. But I wasn’t taking them to get high, I just didn’t want anyone to know about the headaches.”

Dr. Charles nodded. “Hey, I believe you. The ER docs ran a full tox screen when you came in, and they didn’t find any opioids in your system, so I know you haven’t been using heavily in the past few days.”

Matt’s shoulders slumped with relief, and he shakily released the breath he’d been holding.

The psychiatrist continued, “I’m glad you told me about this, and I’m even more glad you had the wisdom and the courage to talk to your chief. You’re right, it could have become a much larger problem for you. It’s going to be important to come up with a plan to treat both your alcohol use disorder and the cumulative effects of your head injuries so we can help you avoid going down that road.”

Matt nodded, resigned. “Yeah… I know.”

“Now…” Leaning forward with interest, Dr. Charles pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Tell me about these headaches you’ve been having.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Instead of walking outside with Antonio, Kelly stopped at the hospital cafeteria for a cup of coffee. Dr. Charles told him not to go back to Matt’s room until after lunch, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually leave the hospital. With Antonio admitting that the police had no idea where to find Nesbitt, Kelly couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to stay nearby to make sure both his boyfriend and his best friend were safe. Once he bought his coffee, he settled in at a table with a view of the main hospital entrance. Staring blankly at the patients and visitors streaming through the doors, he sat in silence with his coffee until it got too cold to drink. Wrinkling his nose at a particularly disappointing sip, he pulled out his phone to check his texts. To his surprise, he had several. In his daze, he hadn’t even felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. Three of the texts were pretty much the same: Clarke, Chief Boden, and his sponsor, Chuck, all wanted to know how Matt was doing. Shay, on the other hand, sent him a viral video of a firefighter jumping off a burning building into a pool, with a message beneath it warning, “Don’t get any ideas.”  Cracking a smile, Kelly texted Shay back first: “I would stick the landing so much better.” He then moved on to Jeff, the person he could be most transparent with about how things were going. He wouldn’t lie to Boden or Chuck, but he felt the need to sugarcoat the situation on Matt’s behalf.  “Hey babe,” he started to write, then quickly backspaced the last word. Clarke’s Squad had an unfortunate – and risky to their personal health – habit of sneaking glances at his phone. They all knew he was seeing someone, and 1st and 2nd platoons were running a betting pool on that person’s gender. Kelly wasn’t about to answer that question for them. Instead, he texted, “Hey. He’s doing alright, but it’s going to take a while to recover from this one. Hoping he’ll listen to the doctors and take it seriously. He wants to brush it off.”  While he thought about how to answer Chief Boden’s worried message, Jeff’s response popped up on his screen: “You guys are two peas in a pod. Think about when you were injured and didn’t want to accept help. What got you past that?”  Leaning back in his chair, Kelly furrowed his brow. Jeff was right that he and Matt were similar in a lot of ways. Kelly’s emotions ran closer to the surface than his boyfriend’s, but they both dealt with their problems in pretty much the same way. Thinking back on what motivated him to accept help might shed some light on what Matt needed now. The problem was… Kelly didn’t exactly like the answer he came up with. Shay was right to walk out on him, but he couldn’t do that to Matt. After what he put him through last summer, he didn’t think Matt would ever fully heal from the broken trust if Kelly abandoned him again. It was one thing for a roommate to say she couldn’t watch him self-destruct, but like Kelly told Dr. Charles, he and Matt were more than that. They might not have been married yet, but their commitment to each other had been “for better or worse” ever since they found their way back to each other after Andy died. His gut told him that Matt didn’t need to be threatened with abandonment in his darkest hour; he needed to know Kelly would be there for him while he pulled himself together. Sighing heavily, Kelly turned his attention back to his conversation with Chief Boden. He needed to walk a fine line, telling Matt’s mentor enough so he could support him without throwing Matt under the bus with his boss. Chewing his bottom lip, he slowly typed, “I think it’s going to be a rough recovery, but he’s feeling optimistic.”  With Chuck, he didn’t share any information at all. Instead, he invited him to come and visit Matt in the hospital after work. That way, he could assess Matt’s condition for himself, and whatever conclusions he drew wouldn’t be Kelly’s fault. After returning Jeff’s text, he put the phone back in his pocket and got in line to order lunch. It was a little bit early, but since Dr. Charles didn’t specify an exact time, Kelly figured that meant he could go back upstairs after he calmed down and had something to eat. His sense of self-preservation wasn’t particularly strong at the moment, so he ordered a bowl of chili and a meatball sub, along with another cup of coffee. It would be a normal meal for him somewhere else, but as soon as he took a good look at the off-gray meatballs covered in marinara sauce and the solid layer of cheese on top of the chili, he realized his mistake. “Oh, well,” he muttered, poking one of the meatballs with his fork and deciding to eat it anyway. It couldn’t be any worse than some of the meals they ate at the firehouse. Kelly managed to drag his disappointing lunch out for nearly an hour, but finally gave in to his temptation to head back up to Matt’s room a few minutes after noon. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, both extending the time it took him to get there and making it easier to tell if someone tried to follow. He held his breath while waiting to be buzzed back into the unit, not sure if he would be welcomed by the staff or Matt. The blonde had to have heard at least some of what he said to Dr. Charles, and Kelly doubted he would thank him for his concern. To his relief, the nurse who came to the door went through the same script as always, with no mention of the scene Kelly made earlier in the day. “Is the doctor in there with him?” Kelly asked before going in. The nurse shook her head. “No, he’s just eating lunch.” When Kelly opened the door, he again found his boyfriend sitting in front of a tray of barely-touched food. Matt looked up at him without smiling, but at least he didn’t kick him out. “I’m sorry,” Kelly said in greeting, closing the door behind him and moving to hover at the foot of the bed. “I wish I hadn’t blown up like that.” Matt shrugged. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” Kelly quickly shook his head. “You’re the one who’s going through hell. I’m not worried about a couple of stupid fights. I just want you to be safe, and to feel like yourself again.”Pinching the inside of his cheek between his teeth, Matt nodded. “I’m here for you, babe,” Kelly assured him, taking a single step closer to the bed. “Whatever it takes to get you through this… I’ve got your back.” To Kelly’s dismay, Matt’s chin quivered and his eyes welled up with tears. “Thanks,” he whispered. At a loss for words, Kelly stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed for a few seconds, then nodded toward the chair. “Is it okay if I sit?” Matt pushed the tray holding his lunch aside. “Here,” he instructed, scooting over and patting the space beside him on the bed. The knot in Kelly’s throat loosening just a little, he settled into place, wrapping his arm around Matt’s shoulders and swinging one leg up on the bed. “You should eat that before it gets cold,” he suggested, nodding towards the tray. Matt wrinkled his nose. “Do you want any of it? The chicken noodle soup is pretty good, but I’m not hungry.” It did, in fact, look more appetizing than Kelly’s chili, but he resolutely shook his head. “You’re the one who’s not feeling well. Besides, I’m pretty sure the nurses are keeping track of how much you eat, and I’m not going to help you cheat the system.” Matt sighed. “I guess you know all the tricks.” “For convincing the doctors to release you from the hospital before you’re actually ready?” Kelly chuckled, giving Matt’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “Yeah, I know them all.” “I feel antsy here,” Matt explained. “I know they have extra security measures to make sure nobody can get to me this time, but I still feel like I would be safer in my own apartment.” “Even once you get discharged, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go home,” Kelly said evenly, hoping Matt wouldn’t get too upset. “We can both stay with Jeff, or we can take Antonio’s advice and get you a hotel room outside of the city. But we need to take this seriously. They almost killed you.” Matt shook his head. “Nesbitt let me go on purpose, so why would he come after me now? He must need me alive for a reason.” “It’s dangerous to make any assumptions about what Nesbitt or the people he’s working with will do next,” Kelly countered. “You said Nesbitt let you go. Are you sure the others knew about it? If not, they might be looking for you. Or Nesbitt’s plan might have been to let you go that night and send someone after you later. We don’t know.” “You’re right,” Matt relented more readily than Kelly expected. “I just… I really don’t want to go. Who knows how long it could take to find them, and then it might go to trial… What if it’s never safe enough to come home? I could end up like Leon.” “Then we’ll buy that house in the country we’ve talked about and raise goats together,” Kelly answered. “That’s my Plan B, anyway.” Matt laughed weakly. “Goats?” Kelly smiled. “Yeah. Cows are scary, sheep seem like way too much work, and I don’t want to look my bacon in the eye every day. I figure maybe we can get some chickens – just a few, for the eggs – but mostly, we would breed goats. We can say it’s a nod to Truck 81.” Matt shook his head, but his eyes crinkled with laughter. “I almost forgot about Plan B. We end up taking over the local volunteer fire department within a year, right?” “Well, I do,” Kelly said, bracing himself to take a risk. “You have to learn how to protect that noggin before I let you go playing around in any grain silos.” Pressing his lips against an un-contused part of the head in question, he breathed in the familiar scent of Matt’s hair. He didn’t exactly smell like he was fresh from the shower, but his hair had definitely been washed since he arrived in the ER. “I could take up gardening,” Matt said thoughtfully, ignoring the comment about his brain. “Maybe beekeeping could be fun?” “I bet you and Clarke would both get really into beekeeping,” Kelly imagined. “I think I’ll stick with the goats, my tractor, and fishing in our pond.” “What would you need a tractor for?” Kelly shrugged. “I dunno. I figure once I buy a tractor, I’ll find ways to put it to use.” “Are you planning on plowing a lot of fields?” Matt teased. “Maybe,” Kelly smiled, relieved that Matt’s mood was lightening. “We could grow… corn.” “So we’re going to live in Indiana?” “No!” Kelly quickly denied. “What do they grow in warm places? Peaches and cotton?” “So, Georgia?” “Hey, that’s got to be better than becoming potato farmers in Idaho.” Chuckling, Matt rested his head against Kelly’s arm. “Fair enough. If we can find a nice piece of land in the South where nobody will shoot us for being gay…” It was a casual comment, but Kelly instantly sobered. That wasn’t the kind of thing he thought about often, but he knew his boyfriend did. Regardless of where they lived, he might never feel completely safe. “That’s why, if it turns out to be a long-term thing, we need to talk Clarke into coming with us.” “That won’t be hard,” Matt pointed out. Kelly nodded. “True. The man does hate Chicago winters.” Matt rolled his eyes. “No, doofus, I mean because he’s in love with you.” Hiding his grin, Kelly countered, “But still, getting away from the ice and snow wouldn’t hurt.” “Sure,” Matt relented, resignation creeping back into his voice. Kelly squeezed Matt’s shoulders more tightly, briskly rubbing his upper arm. “I would follow you anywhere, you know. I just want you to be safe.” “There’s something else I need to tell you,” Matt said, staring down at his hands. “It’s – uh, I guess it’s the real reason Chief Boden pulled me from active duty.” Kelly’s stomach flipped. “Okay. Whatever it is, Matt, I’ve got your back.” Grimacing, Matt rubbed his palms against his knees. “Thanks. Um… After the, um,  grenade situation… I stole the Percocet your doctor prescribed.” “What?” Matt’s expression made it clear that he’d heard him correctly. Picking at the tape holding down his IV, he shifted away from Kelly’s chest. “I took the prescription your doctor sent home with you and had it filled. Then I took the pills.” His voice was barely audible, but there was no mistaking his words.  “What?” Kelly repeated anyway. Matt took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m really sorry. I – I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I originally had it filled in case you needed it, but you didn’t… and then when I had a headache Motrin wouldn’t touch, and the bottle was right there, I thought, just one couldn’t hurt… but it didn’t end up being just one. I’m so sorry.” “I’m not mad,” Kelly clarified. “I’m – I’m surprised, and I’m worried, but I’m not mad.” Some of the tension drained from Matt’s shoulders, and Kelly firmly pulled him closer again. “What did you do when the pills ran out?” he asked, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. He didn’t want to interrogate Matt with too many questions, but he couldn’t stop his mind from going back to the lengths he’d gone to get his hands on painkillers when he was in Matt’s shoes. Matt shook his head. “They didn’t. Before I finished the bottle, I turned them in to Chief Boden, and that’s when he took me off active duty.” Shakily releasing the breath he’d been holding, Kelly wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “Sorry. I – I’m just so glad you’re safe… at least as safe as you can be, for now. I love you so much, Matt. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.” Groaning softly, Matt buried his face in his hands. “I’m scared, Kelly. I – I’m scared I won’t be able to come back from this.” His voice cracked painfully with those words, making Kelly’s heart ache, too. “Hey, hey, shh,” he soothed, reaching across his body to grip Matt’s knee with his free hand. “I know it feels like the end of the world, but I promise, it isn’t. You did the right thing by coming clean to Boden and taking yourself out of the field, even if you weren’t ready to talk to me. I wish you felt like you could talk to me, but I’m not mad. I’m just relieved that this isn’t any worse. You’re going to be okay, Matt. And I’m going to be here for you while you do the work to get there.” “I don’t understand why I’ve been doing such – such stupid things,” Matt croaked. “I – I stood there and watched Katya get murdered –” “Hey,” Kelly interrupted, resting his palm against Matt’s shockingly cold cheek. “What happened to Katya is not your fault. You were trying to save her.” Matt pulled Kelly’s hand from his face. “Stop saying that!” he demanded. “I… Look, I know you’re trying to help, but stop. I got Katya into that situation, I convinced her to try to run, and then I stood there and did nothing while Nesbitt shot her in the face. And after I got away, instead of having someone call the cops, I wandered into a random bar and got drunk. Who does that?” “Someone who’s been through more trauma than anyone should have to endure,” Kelly answered, unphased by the outburst. “Someone who’s learned that emotions can be dangerous, and that alcohol is the simplest way to numb those emotions. Someone who might be more afraid of his own feelings than anything else.” A hollow-sounding sob clawed its way from Matt’s throat. Turning so his upper body faced Kelly, Matt opened his arms, and Kelly quickly identified what he needed. Keeping his right arm around Matt’s shoulders and being careful not to tug on his IV, he pulled him over onto his lap. “You’re still a good person, Matt,” he reassured him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “You need help – you deserve help, you deserve not to feel this way anymore – and we’ll get it for you. All you have to do is accept.” The nursing assistant didn’t even bat an eye when she opened the door and found her patient curled up with another man in his hospital bed. Kelly smiled politely and gave Matt’s shoulder a gentle nudge, waking him from his nap. “There’s someone downstairs at the front desk asking to visit you,” she announced. “Charles Novak. Do you want to see him?” “That’s Chuck,” Kelly murmured in Matt’s ear, not sure if he was alert enough to put that together. “Yes, I’d like to see him,” Matt answered. Kelly’s heart swelled with pride. He pressed one more kiss against Matt’s cheek before shimmying out from under his body and off the bed. It wouldn’t do for a deputy district chief to find them in bed together, even one they knew as a friend and mentor rather than a colleague. “Do you want me to step out?” “No… Stay. You were right in what you said to Dr. Charles. I can’t get better unless I’m honest with the people who are helping me.” “So you’re ready to tell him about us? He obviously has a pretty strong suspicion already, but…” Matt lifted his chin and met Kelly’s eye with more resolve than he’d shown in days. “I’m ready to tell everyone about us – if you are.” Struggling to contain his grin, Kelly reclaimed the chair beside the bed. “Oh, I’m ready,” he vowed, “And really, Matt, no matter what Chief Boden says, if it comes down to it, I’ll be the one to transfer. You don’t have to leave 51.” Matt shrugged one shoulder. “I’m going to be off work for a while anyway, so it might make sense for me to be reassigned when I go back. But I don’t really want to think about that right now, if that’s okay. It stings, and I’d rather just focus on the problems I have to think about today.” “Fair enough,” Kelly acknowledged. “I can take care of worrying about work; you just worry about healing your brain.” Matt tried to force a smile, but the corners of his mouth barely moved. “If that’s possible.” “It will be,” Kelly said firmly. “As long as you’re willing to be honest, accept help, and put in the work to deal with this shit instead of sweeping it under the rug, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll get better. If I can go to therapy and learn how to face my problems head-on, you can do it too.” A few minutes later, the buzzer at the nurse’s station across the hall sounded, indicating someone was at the door. Matt reached over and took Kelly’s hand, linking their fingers together. “Sometimes it’s easier to say something without words,” he explained. “Do you want me to put a hand down your pants, make it really obvious?” Kelly joked. Matt rolled his eyes. “Maybe when we announce it to the guys from work.” “I thought maybe we’d hide in a shower stall together and pop out at them when they walk in.” Matt raised his eyebrows. “Naked?” “I don’t make a habit of wearing clothes in the shower.” For just an instant, Matt smiled without a hint of grief or fear, lighting up his red-rimmed eyes. Kelly’s heart skipped a beat, and he vowed to find as many opportunities as he could over the coming weeks to make his boyfriend smile like that. Then the door opened, and Matt’s breath caught in his throat. His muscles tensed, and his grip on Kelly’s hand tightened. “You’ve got this,” Kelly whispered, using his thumb to rub the back of Matt’s hand. “Hey,” Chuck greeted them as he came in, still wearing his deputy district chief’s uniform. As far as Kelly knew, he was on duty until that evening, so he must have detected the urgency Kelly tried to keep out of his texts. “How are you boys doing today?” Kelly saw the moment when Chuck registered their clasped hands, but his expression wasn’t exactly one of surprise. “We’ve been better,” Matt answered. Chuck nodded solemnly. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” Matt cringed. “Not really… No disrespect intended. I’m sure I’ll want to talk it over with you in a couple of days, when my head’s a little clearer. But I’ve already gone over the ugly details with 3 people today, and I’m feeling kind of drained.” “I’ll bet,” Chuck empathized. “I won’t keep you long, but I just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up.” “I need help,” Matt blurted out, squeezing Kelly’s hand hard enough to hurt. “The – The doctors, they’re going to do an MRI to check for brain damage from all my concussions, and then the psychiatrist is going to talk to me about the treatment options for my alcoholism and any brain injuries. But I need help figuring out what to do about work.” “Okay,” Chuck nodded. “I’m prepared to talk you through your options there, just wasn’t sure if you’d be feeling up to it yet.” Matt glanced over at Kelly. “I don’t feel ready to talk about what’s going to happen as far as our commands when we tell the department about our relationship, but I do want to make sure I’m handling things in the best way I can with regard to taking leave from work while I recover. It’s the first time I’ve needed an extended period of leave that wasn’t for an on-the-job injury.” Chuck pulled a couple of pamphlets from his back pocket and handed one of them to Matt. “This has information from the Employee Assistance Program about the procedures for notifying the department when you need time away from work to seek treatment. It’s pretty much the same process for off-duty injuries and behavioral health, but the EAP has extra resources to protect your job and help you transition back to work if you’re seeking treatment for a substance use disorder or another behavioral health condition. If you decide to go to rehab or do an intensive outpatient program, I can help you file the paperwork with your battalion chief.” Matt glanced down at the front of the pamphlet, then handed it to Kelly. “Thanks.” “And if you’re ready to really commit to your recovery, this is your best option for making real progress and getting your life back on track,” Chuck continued, passing Matt another brochure. “I know nobody wants to go to rehab, but this program has helped a lot of first responders recover from exactly the kind of thing you’re going through. They specialize in working with first responders and active duty military who have co-occurring disorders – addiction, mental illness, and brain injuries resulting from line-of-duty injuries. First responders travel from all over the Midwest to do the program. They keep a bed on reserve for the CFD, and it’s open right now if you want it.” “You said it’s in Minnesota, right?” Kelly asked, eyeing the cover image of a firefighter in turnout gear with his face buried in his hands. Matt quickly passed him that pamphlet, too, and Kelly curiously flipped it open. “Yeah, a couple of hours from Minneapolis,” Chuck confirmed. “It’s a little bit far for regular visits, but the program will let you do video visits – and couple’s therapy.” Kelly glanced hopefully at Matt, trying to gauge his reaction. “This isn’t even a little bit of a surprise, huh?” Matt asked Chuck, nodding towards their clasped hands. The older man smiled. “I wasn’t sure if you were a couple or just very close friends in denial about being in love with each other. Have you decided to announce your relationship to everyone, or are you just letting me in on the secret?” “We’re ready to tell everyone,” Matt answered. “Kelly’s been ready for a while now, I think. I was afraid of the consequences and people’s reactions, but… to hell with that. I have a lot to be ashamed of, but being in love with Kelly isn’t one of those things.” “I think we should wait to make any big announcements until you’ve had a couple of weeks to recover,” Kelly suggested. “If you go to this program, we could tell the rest of our friends when you get home.” “I don’t think I need an inpatient program,” Matt said quickly. “But you’re right, it would probably be good to recover from this week before we open ourselves up to all of that.” “It’s going to be really hard to do an outpatient program while you’re living in a motel in some town you’ve never been to before,” Kelly pointed out. “If you already need to go away, and you need treatment… This could make sense, Matt.” “What’s this about going away?” Chuck asked. Matt bit his lip and glanced at Kelly, silently asking him to explain. “Well,” Kelly said slowly, not sure where to start, “You know Matt can’t say ‘no’ to anyone who asks for help. This time, he found himself in the middle of a pretty bad situation.” When the nurse came in to warn them that the tech was on his way to take Matt for his MRI, Chuck quickly wrapped up his visit. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Matt told him as he left. “I’ll have Kelly text you when I make a decision.” Once he left, Kelly turned to Matt, both nervous and hopeful to hear his reaction. “So… what do you think?” Matt chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds before he answered, “I think… I want to be the boyfriend you deserve, and I want us both to be happy. I hate the person I’m watching myself turn into and what it’s doing to you, and the scariest part is how familiar it feels. I know I can get sober without going to rehab, but I want to do more than get sober. I want to make sure none of this happens again. I think this is probably my best shot at that.” Kelly lifted Matt’s hand and lovingly kissed his swollen knuckles. “I’m proud of you.” “Thanks,” Matt said earnestly. “You think it’s the right decision?” “I do,” Kelly confirmed. “I think getting some help with processing everything you’ve been through these past few years could do you a world of good, and if Chuck is involved with the program, I believe it must be a good one. I’m grateful that you’re willing to try it.” “It looks nice,” Matt acknowledged, holding up the brochure. “It definitely won’t be as relaxing as a fishing trip, but it beats a long-stay motel in Cincinnati.” “If you want to go on a fishing trip after rehab, we will,” Kelly promised. Matt smiled. “I might take you up on that, especially if I don’t have a job when I get home.” “You will,” Kelly assured him. “The CFD isn’t going to fire you for an off-duty bender, or they’d have to fire two-thirds of the department. Like Chuck said, you’ll probably just have to pass a physical and psych eval when you’re ready to end your medical leave.”  “If I pass.” Kelly shook his head. “Hey, none of that.” “The MRI –” “– will give the doctors the information they need to help you heal,” Kelly finished. “Even if some of the physical effects are permanent, they’ll be able to teach you how to cope with them, so you’ll feel a lot better than you do right now. Let’s give this a chance to work before we worry, okay?” Matt sighed. “I’ll try.” Kelly accompanied Matt downstairs for his MRI, unwilling to leave him alone in the company of the hospital transport tech. The man who showed up to take him for his MRI looked like he was barely capable of pushing a hospital bed from one side of the building to the other without getting out of breath, let alone defending Matt from a cartel hit. He planned to wait right outside the MRI suite until Matt was done, but the blonde convinced him to take a break. Nobody but staff could enter the area with the MRI machines, making it one of the safer places he could be. Matt had been longing for his own boxers and pajamas, and Kelly needed to pack some clothes for the time he would be staying with Jeff. So – after making Matt’s cheeks flush scarlet with a peck on the lips in front of the staff – Kelly tore himself away. Their apartment was just a few minutes from the hospital, but every minute Matt was out of Kelly’s sight made his anxiety spike even more. He nearly broke into a sprint while crossing the parking lot to his car, pausing just long enough to give it a quick once-over for GPS trackers or explosive devices before he got in. He hoped nobody saw him squatting to look under the chassis, but given everything they’d been through in the past year, he had good reason to be paranoid. Once he was satisfied that nobody had tampered with his car, he made his way home as quickly as traffic would allow. Before he parked, he looked through the window of every car on the block, making sure nobody was waiting there for Matt to come home. The coast seemed to be clear outside the building, but when he got up to the third floor, he found the front door ajar. This time, unlike the other night, it obviously hadn’t been left unlocked. The latch was broken, and there was a small dent in the center of the door. It looked about the same way it would if a firefighter kicked it open. His breath catching in his throat, Kelly inched closer to the door, listening for any sign that someone was in there now. Hearing nothing, he unlocked his phone and pulled up Antonio’s contact. Lifting his phone to his ear instead of putting it on speaker, he cautiously pushed his front door open far enough to see inside. “Severide?” Antonio sounded worried as soon as he picked up the phone. “Question for you,” Kelly said in lieu of a greeting. “Were you there when CPD searched our apartment?” “No, Burgess and Roman did it… Why?” Kelly surveyed the disaster zone in his living room – it looked worse than some of the crime scenes he’d seen. “Uh, I’m not sure. Do you think they would’ve broken the lock on the front door, taken a knife to my sofa, and dumped the contents of every drawer out on the floor?” “No,” Antonio answered sharply. “Are you in the apartment right now?” “Yeah,” Kelly confirmed, going to check out Matt’s bedroom. “I’m pretty sure whoever did this is long gone. They must have either found what they were looking for or given up and left. But I think you better come over.” “I’m on my way, but you need to get out of that apartment,” Antonio instructed. Kelly heard sirens through the phone before Antonio even finished his sentence – he must have already been in the car. “I just need to grab some clothes for each of us, and I’ll be out of here,” he explained. “Looks like someone took a knife to Matt’s mattress, too. I haven’t checked my room yet, but I don’t have a good feeling.” “Severide, I will buy you both new clothes – just get out of there. Not only are you putting your life in danger, you’re disturbing a crime scene.” Most of the clothing had been dumped from Matt’s dresser onto the floor. Without being too picky, Kelly grabbed three pairs of boxers, a couple of t-shirts, and a pair of old sweatpants that Matt liked to sleep in sometimes. He wanted to take more – if Matt did end up spending a full month in rehab, he was going to need clothes – but he was painfully aware of the truth in Antonio’s words. “Okay, fine, I’m on my way out,” he said, forgoing his own change of clothes. Between what was in the hamper at Clarke’s apartment and his locker at the firehouse, he would be fine for a few days. “I’m about five minutes away,” Antonio informed him. “Go down to the lobby and wait for me there, okay?” The hair on his neck standing on end, Kelly took one final glance around the apartment. “I think I’m going to head back, actually. You can come interview me later,” he decided, carefully not saying where he was going . He was confident he was alone in the apartment, but it could easily have been bugged. If someone out there was looking for Matt, Kelly would make damn sure they never found him. That night, Kelly slept in his car in the hospital parking lot. It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever spent a night, but he managed an hour or two of light, restless sleep. He was supposed to be at work at 8 o’clock that morning, but Jeff texted him to inform him that he was working a double, enabling Kelly to see Matt off to rehab and then catch a few hours of sleep in Jeff’s empty bed. His offer to drive Matt to Minnesota had been declined – Chuck advised them that it would be better if he drove Matt himself. Despite his disappointment at having to say goodbye to his boyfriend a few hours sooner, Kelly had to acknowledge that Matt would be more likely to follow through without him there. He might ask Kelly to turn around and take him home, but he was far too proud to chicken out in front of anyone else. On his way inside to see Matt, he stopped first in the bathroom, where he gargled mouthwash while washing his face, and then in the cafeteria, where he bought two blueberry muffins and another cup of terrible coffee. He took one of the muffins upstairs for Matt, who had now gone at least three days without a decent meal. Even with the nausea medication, he didn’t have enough of an appetite to eat more than a couple of bites. Kelly also brought Matt a brand new duffle bag, filled with a combination of old and new clothes to get him through the next few weeks. He raided Matt’s locker at the firehouse for a couple more t-shirts and some jeans, then added one of his own hoodies that Matt loved to steal. True to his word, Antonio purchased the rest of the items on the rehab center’s packing list, making sure Matt was set up with everything he needed. Instead of making the staff on Matt’s unit search the bag so he could take it into Matt’s room, he left it behind the nurse’s station during his visit. Matt could pick it up on his way out of the hospital, and he would just have to trust that Kelly remembered to pack socks for him this time. Walking into Matt’s room, he found the blonde sitting up on the side of his bed with a plastic bowl of cereal and an unopened box of milk. “Good morning, sunshine. How are you feeling?” Rolling his eyes at the greeting, Matt took Kelly’s hand and pulled him close for a kiss. “I finally get to leave this room today, so I’m already feeling a lot better. Is that muffin for me?” Kelly put the muffin on Matt’s tray, nudging the cereal aside. “Do you think you can eat it?” “I’d sure like to try. I’m craving carbs, but every time I try to eat anything heavier than pudding or broth, I start feeling queasy after a couple of bites.” “Okay,” Kelly said, grabbing an eme-bag from the dispenser on the wall. “I’ll bet you $20 you can’t eat that whole muffin before you have to puke.” Matt unwrapped the clear plastic from around the muffin and playfully tossed it at Kelly’s chest. “I’m not going to take that bet, but I am going to try my best to prove you wrong.” “Look at that – your judgment is already getting better,” Kelly teased, earning a grin and a middle finger from Matt. They kept up a playful banter for about 20 minutes, until Matt’s muffin was nearly gone. It was the first conversation they’d had in days that felt normal, a refreshing taste of the joy Kelly usually felt with Matt around. “You guys are bringing the puppy home next week, right?” Matt asked, pushing the last few bites of his muffin aside. “Yep,” Kelly confirmed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Clarke will have her house trained before you get home.” “That’s one thing I won’t be sad to miss,” Matt acknowledged. “I hope I won’t be away for too long, though.” “Let’s set our sights on one month, okay?” Kelly suggested, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “If it still isn’t safe for you to come home by the time you finish your program, we’ll take that fishing trip together. Either way, I’ll be there to pick you up in a month.” Matt nodded. “Okay. One month.” Given the well-founded concerns about Matt’s safety, Dr. Charles arranged for Chuck to pick him up at one of the service exits typically used for unloading supplies. Anyone watching the main hospital parking lot would never see him leave, and it would be relatively easy for the police to tell if someone tried to follow Chuck from there. Determined to ensure Matt made it out of the hospital in one piece, Kelly walked him all the way to the car. As they stepped outside, Matt took a deep breath and smiled, relishing in the fresh air and sunlight he hadn’t seen in days. Idly rubbing Matt’s back while they walked, Kelly smiled to himself, too. “Even if the therapy doesn’t take, a month of fresh air in the country might do you a world of good.” “It didn’t work out so well for you,” Matt teased. Chuckling, Kelly shook his head. “Yeah, it turns out the therapy part is kind of important. Sitting in a cabin drinking beer in my underwear just got me a beer belly and damaged every relationship in my life. You’re doing the opposite of what I did… and in case I haven’t said it in the past five minutes, I’m so damn proud of you.” “I’m proud of you, too,” Matt told him. “You worked hard to claw your way out of that pit… and now it’s my turn.” When they reached the car, Officer Atwater from Voight’s unit greeted them with an empathetic smile and nod, taking Matt’s bag to stow in the trunk. He would be keeping an eye out for Matt’s safety – and any sign they were being followed – during the drive to Minnesota. Kelly was glad Antonio chose Atwater for the job. Unlike most of the people he worked with, he was tactful enough to avoid making things worse for Matt. Kelly liked Lindsay, Halstead, and Dawson, but he wouldn’t want any of them to spend six hours in a car with his boyfriend right now. After greeting Chuck, Matt took a deep breath and turned back to Kelly. “So… this is it.” “Can I kiss you in front of them?” Kelly asked softly, making sure only Matt could hear.To his delight, Matt answered with a single nod, already leaning in to meet Kelly’s lips. Kelly kissed him as passionately as he dared in front of their audience of two, leaving Matt flushed and smiling when they parted. “I love you,” Matt whispered. “I love you too. I’m going to miss you, but I’m so proud of you for doing something scary so you can get better. You’re such a fucking badass, angel.” “I’m more scared of what’s going to happen if I don’t go,” Matt confessed. “I’m going to miss you, and I fully expect to be miserable for the next couple of weeks… but I think I have to do this for us to have any hope of a healthy marriage someday.” A spark of joy ignited in Kelly’s chest, and he snuck in one more quick kiss. “I want that,” he said earnestly. “And I want you to be happy and healthy, most of all. The next few weeks might be rough, but I know you’re going to be glad you did this, in the long run. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.” “Thank you so much, Kelly,” Matt said, tears welling in his eyes. “It really means a lot, having your support, after everything I’ve put you through.” Smiling tenderly, Kelly rubbed Matt’s upper arm. “You’ve forgiven me for a lot over the years, too.” “Boys, I hate to rush this, but we need to get on the road,” Chuck called out to them. “You’ll have a chance to talk on the phone for a few minutes this evening.” Matt took another deep breath to steady himself, then opened his arms for one more hug. Kelly gladly obliged, wishing he could bask in the feeling of having Matt in his arms forever. “I love you, and I’m going to be okay,” Matt whispered in his ear. A single tear leaked from Kelly’s eye, containing more emotions than he could name. Hope and bittersweet relief, yes, but worry and anger, too. His protective instincts screamed not to let his boyfriend out of his sight until the danger passed, but his rational mind couldn’t have been more confident in Matt’s decision. “I know you will. You’ve got this, angel.”