Chapter Fifteen

 . . . yeah, I have nothing, folks. Strap in. That's all I'm gonna say.

Matt and Kelly realize something's up, Squad enters Overprotective Brothers Mode, TK makes some new friends, Matt and Kelly do what they do best, Buck's world gets flipped once again, and Sylvie makes her decision.

I'd say enjoy, but . . . well. You'll see.

***

Someone who wasn't so in tune with a specific person would have thought everything at 51 was completely normal. They would have thought everything at 51 was, in fact, perfect with the announcement Joe made about Chloe being pregnant. Then there was the fire at an encampment for homeless people, where the entire house worked like a well-oiled machine. If someone from the brass were to arrive and evaluate the house, they would find nothing wrong.

Matt knew better. And he knew something was wrong with Sylvie.

The paramedic had been quiet all morning from the start of the briefing, her posture stiff as she listened attentively to Boden, only turning to acknowledge Gianna when she made a comment or asked a question. She didn't look at anyone else, which Matt knew threw not only him and Kelly through a loop, but also Joe, her other go-to person for silent conversations during meetings. She had also never budged from the coffee pot in the kitchen, only moving from her post to hug Joe tightly when he made the announcement. She never moved to sit anywhere or get comfortable; she looked ready to bolt at a moment's notice. And she never spoke a word to anyone, never initiating conversation. The only talking she did was when someone spoke to her first.

That wasn't Sylvie. Matt knew it, and from the clear worry in Kelly's eyes, his best friend knew it, too.

The fact was further evidenced by, as Matt and Kelly collaborated to fill out their reports form the fire, Joe knocking insistently on Kelly's closed door until Matt leaned over and opened it to find the entirety of Squad 3 standing outside. "What did you guys do?" Joe scowled, his folded arms and the gauze covering a bad gash making him much more intimidating than usual.

"What?" Matt blinked.

Kelly sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his forehead. "Are we always going to get blamed whenever something's up with Sylvie?" he wondered.

"Considering what happened with Halleck?" Joe snorted.

"Seriously, as far as I know, we haven't done anything," Matt made a helpless gesture. "I mean, the last time we saw her was at Molly's the other night. Nothing happened between then and now, and it looks like that's when she's been . . . well . . . "

"Stormclouds and fog instead of sunbeams and rainbows?" Capp suggested.

"Look at you, being all artistic," Tony smirked.

"Am I wrong?"

"You're definitely not wrong," Joe shook his head.

"We've been trying to approach her all morning," Matt leaned back on Kelly's bunk, not noticing Capp eye the way he was completely at home reclining on the other officer's bunk, Kelly not saying a word. "She's always slipped away."

"So you did do something?" Tony frowned.

Kelly made a frustrated growl. "If we did, we don't know what we did!"

"Or when we did it," Matt scowled.

Joe frowned, but Tony sighed. "It definitely wasn't anything last shift."

"Maybe she'll talk to one of us?" Capp suggested.

"Yeah, try that," Joe rubbed the gauze. "I need to get this off my face and hope Chloe doesn't kill me later."

"And we'll see if we ever get our best friend to talk to us," Kelly sighed.

"After we finish these reports," Matt said dryly.

Kelly sighed much more dramatically that time. "Paperwork. The bane of my existence."

Matt launched his pen at Kelly's head, making the lieutenant duck. "Bastard."

***

Sylvie sighed as she stepped down from the ambulance, hearing Gianna shut the door on the other side. She knew it was a little cruel of her, but she kind of wished she had taken a longer time at Med. All she and Gianna had to do was drop off their patient and restock which, while sometimes felt like a chore, felt like it sped by. She had not been looking forward to returning to 51 because of Stella's words ringing in her head constantly.

"Hey, Brett!" Sylvie turned to see Capp and Tony walk up, a familiar figure in a grey CFD jacket behind them. "Someone here to see you."

"Hey, Sylvie," Grainger smiled charmingly.

Sylvie tilted her head curiously, smiling back at the engine lieutenant. "Grainger," she greeted politely; she didn't miss Capp and Tony lingering by their rig or Gianna casually sitting on the Squad table. "What brings you by? I thought the donut wars were over."

"So they say," Grainger smirked. "I'm actually just looking for some bag valve masks. Our ambo's out. You have any extras?"

Sylvie nodded, relieved that was all Grainger wanted. "Yeah, sure," she opened the ambulance doors and climbed in. "Give me a sec . . . "

"That's kind of you, lieutenant," Gianna remarked. "Running errands for your paramedics. There are not many officers that would do that."

"Yeah, well," Grainger shrugged. "I'm a team player."

Gianna made a sound of obvious disbelief, and Sylvie climbed back out of the ambulance. "Here you go," she handed over the bag of masks.

"Great," Grainger smiled, taking the masks. "Uh . . . maybe I could thank you with a drink at Molly's sometime?"

Gianna did a double take, and Tony's eyebrows shot up. Sylvie froze, staring at Grainger blankly, then cleared her throat. "I'm actually headed there after shift," she said.

"Then I will see you then," Grainger smiled in satisfaction.

Sylvie watched him leave the firehouse, a weird feeling in her gut. She had been hit on in the past year, but nothing had ever felt serious. Grainger repeatedly showing up, whether it was at Molly's or now at 51 . . . that was something she hadn't dealt with since Kyle. Now that she knew she was in love with Matt and Kelly, Grainger's attention felt uncomfortable.

"That boy has got it bad," Gianna snickered.

Sylvie took a shaky breath. "He wasn't here to just pick up bag valve masks, was he?" she asked weakly.

"No," Gianna shook her head. "He was here to see you."

Sylvie buried her face in her hands. "Great," she laughed sarcastically. "That's just what I need."

"Brett?" Capp asked in concern. "You OK?"

A flash of black and navy in the doors to the common area made Sylvie's gaze shift, and she saw Stella with her arms folded, giving her an incredulous look. Sylvie swallowed hard. "Never better," she finally said, heading for the door to the locker rooms.

Gianna watched her go, then looked at the two Squad members, both of whom were watching the blonde disappear. "She's lying," she finally said.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "She's lying."

***

Cocker Spaniel: I'm being hit on.

Golden Retriever: Finally!

Cocker Spaniel: Wrong fire officer, Buck.

Golden Retriever: Oh.

Golden Retriever: What's taking them so long?

Cocker Spaniel: Buck!

Golden Retriever: What? I can't root for my favorite Chicago firefighters?

TK couldn't help but snicker as he walked through the market with his dad. "You might regret asking Buck and Sylvie to come to Austin, Dad."

"Why would I regret that?" Owen asked in genuine confusion as he checked the lettuce at their stand. "You like them, I've seen their records. They're golden . . . literally, according to you."

"They are," TK nodded. "They also fight like cats and dogs."

"Oh," Owen frowned thoughtfully. "Like I haven't dealt with that before."

TK snorted, putting his phone in his pocket. "I'm glad you made the call, even if they're not going to take the offers."

"You think they'll really stay?" Owen asked, picking which ball of lettuce he wanted.

"You haven't heard how fondly they speak of their cities," TK shook his head. "I think they're staying."

Owen shrugged. "We were going to stay in New York, too, before something happened."

TK sighed. "Let's hope neither of them have a drug overdose."

Owen patted TK's shoulder sympathetically, then paused when he saw a familiar face. "Tommy?" he asked.

TK turned to see the woman with a man and two little girls searching the vegetable stands nearby; she looked up when she heard her name, and she perked up when she saw them. "Owen!" she gave them a bright smile, putting a few potatoes in her basket before walking over. "TK! Good to see you two!"

"You, too," Owen smiled.

"Hey, we have seen you around here before," TK tilted his head. "Just haven't actually known you were friends with Judd and Grace."

"Yeah," Tommy chuckled, gesturing for her family to come over. "My husband is the cook of the house. This is his favorite market."

"For a lot of people, apparently," Owen remarked.

"Mom?" one of the girls asked. "Who are they?"

"Evie!" the man hissed.

"Hey, no problem with being curious," Owen shook his head.

"Unless it kills the cat," TK hummed.

"TK!"

Tommy laughed. "Owen, TK, this is my husband Charles and our girls, Isabella and Evie. Charles, girls, meet your Uncle Judd's captain Owen Strand and his son, TK."

"Pleasure to meet you, Captain," Charles held out his hand. "Based on what Judd's told us, you've done great work at the 126."

"Well, I've done my best for an outsider," Owen smiled, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Charles."

"And good to meet you two as well," TK smiled at Tommy's twin daughters. "I might get you two confused."

"Everyone does," Isabella – or was she Evie? – giggled.

TK looked up with mock horror. "I'm doomed."

Owen cackled, not even trying to hide his amusement. "I don't think I want to leave you two together."

"We could always use another sitter," Tommy joked.

TK tilted his head, looking at Isabella and Evie, noticing them eye the fruit stand nearby . . . in particular, gleaming red apples. "If I can buy them a few apples as a treat, I'll happily volunteer."

"Oh, no," Owen deadpanned.

Tommy chuckled. "Thank you, TK. Go ahead."

"Awesome," TK beamed, crouching down and smiling at the girls. "Pick a few apples, girls. My treat." They squealed in delight and darted around TK, rushing the stand. TK stood back up and smiled, giving a playful salute to Tommy. "They're safe with me."

"I believe you," Tommy smiled warmly. "Thank you, TK."

"Any time," TK beamed, meaning it as he bounded after the girls, joining them in sorting through the apples.

Owen watched TK interact with Evie and Isabella, his enthusiasm the same as theirs. "He's an impressive young man," Tommy remarked.

Owen smiled proudly. "He's my son."

***

Sylvie was a tactile person. She thrived on touch, and she craved it from people she trusted. When she had shared that with Matt and Kelly, the two men had promptly engulfed her in the tightest hug she had ever received, and ever since, there was always some form of touch from them whenever they saw each other, whether it was a simple brush of the shoulders, a squeeze of hands, a side hug, or leaning on each other while on a couch or a bunk.

There was only one thing she appreciated about them more than how open they were with her, and each other, was how when they got involved in something, they gave their all. When Vanessa, one of the campsite members, approached them with a theory that the fire was intentional, she saw Matt's eyes narrow and Kelly's eyes flare, something that made her have to fold her arms and try to avoid shuddering in full view of everyone in the firehouse. Their intensity when they found something to pursue . . . well, she had meant it when she said her type was people who together were ride or die.

That wasn't what she had told Grainger the previous night, though. It was great to have a drink with him, Sylvie wouldn't turn that down from someone (even if he had come up with a reason to come by 51, his house really had needed those masks), but she had turned him down as gently as she could. He had seemed cool with it, paid for their drinks, then headed for the door at Molly's. Barely a few seconds had passed before Kelly had called her name, and she had bounded over to join him and Matt to learn where they were in their investigation. Leaning into Matt's side was instinctive as he and Kelly shared their findings.

She had never noticed Grainger watching before he left. Had she noticed, she probably would have realized that was why he acted a little weird around her when his engine showed up to help her and Gianna free a victim from a collapsed tombstone.

Sylvie could see Gianna was a little confused by his suddenly different behavior as well, but she was quickly distracted by the army of brightly, colorfully clothed clowns approaching them. "What is happening?" she squeaked.

"This is Showmen's Rest," Grainger answered. "The clown graveyard."

Sylvie balked. "The what?"

"Built after a circus train wreck 100 years ago," Grainger explained, gesturing to the cemetery. "It's a Chicago legend. I thought everyone knew about this place."

"Oh," Gianna nodded. "I thought something was up when we passed that elephant mausoleum."

Sylvie swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes from the clowns approaching. "I – I did not know."

Gianna frowned, looking at her in concern. "Are you gonna be OK?"

"I don't do clowns!" she shrieked, Gianna wincing at her high tone.

"OK, just hold tight," Grainger assured her, walking over to the clowns. "I got this. Hey, folks, we got a medical emergency here. I need everybody to stay on that side of Blinkie's grave and stay away from the medics, thank you."

Sylvie watched in relief as the clowns dispersed, and she sighed, looking at Grainger. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

"No problem," he nodded, smiling awkwardly.

"Hey, uh," she brushed her hair out of her hair. "If you're at Molly's tomorrow, I think it's my turn to buy you a drink."

His eyebrows raised, but his smile became much more genuine. "I'd like that."

Sylvie smiled back as she and Gianna loaded their victim into the ambulance, and Gianna gave Sylvie an odd look. "What?" Sylvie frowned.

"I thought you weren't interested in him?" she whispered.

"I'm not," Sylvie said. "I'm just scared to death of clowns. It really is a thank you drink."

"Make sure he knows that, then," Gianna said, climbing into the back.

"I definitely will," Sylvie nodded, shutting the ambulance doors.

***

Sylvie took back what she said. There was one other thing she appreciated about her boys. When they were in attack and defend mode, they went right for the jugular vein . . . and God, it was hot.

They were already vibrating in anger when Vanessa arrived at 51 and revealed Big Jim, the man in charge of the camp residents, had died of his injuries. The moment Gallo burst into the conference room with a laptop, excitedly exclaiming he had found the arsonist who had set the fire, Matt and Kelly were on him like dogs looking for a bone. They peered at the footage Gallo had pulled up, and Sylvie knew they had their guy when Matt's eyes darkened and a growl rumbled in Kelly's throat. Sylvie ducked her head so they wouldn't see her swallow hard. "Shift ends in a few minutes," Boden checked his watch. "Go get him."

"Thanks, Gallo," Matt clapped his candidate on the shoulder, rushing out the door.

"Go get him, Cap!" Gallo called as Kelly bolted after him.

Ritter squeezed Vanessa's hand in support. "They'll get him," he promised.

"You're sure?" Vanessa asked quietly.

"I know those men like I know the back of my hand," Sylvie smiled. "They'll get him."

***

Matt jumped out of his truck, red tinting his vision as he pulled on his gloves. They had gotten confirmation from Jay that a few patrol officers were right behind them. All he and Kelly had to do was get them to the door.

Piece of cake, he thought darkly, making his way up to the apartment. "According to the assessor's office, this guy owns the better part of this block," Kelly said, walking up to his side so their strides matched, the two in sync. "He's got a lot riding on the property values around here."

Matt nodded curtly, reaching up and rapping on the door three times. Within seconds, a cheerful black man opened the door. "Hey!" Alan Wicker beamed. "It's my firefighter friends!"

"You can drop the act," Matt said bluntly.

He blinked. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"We know you've been complaining about the encampment for months," Kelly scowled. "And we know that it was your phone calls to the ward office that got the cleanup crew here so fast."

"And I want you to know," Matt narrowed his eyes. "His name was James Benevides. Big Jim to those who knew him. He wasn't just some faceless nobody in a tent. He had a sister. He had nephews. He had friends!"

"I don't know what this is about," Alan frowned, looking between the officers. "You're obviously upset, and I'm busy right now, so . . . "

He made to close the door, but before Matt could make a move, Kelly planted his boot on the ground, easily blocking the door from shutting. "No," the squad lieutenant growled. "You're gonna listen."

"He helped people," Matt stepped forward, glaring at Alan like a lion would its prey. Kelly had to commend Alan; he glared right back. "First as a teacher, then a soldier. He survived Iraq, and he survived ten years on the streets. But what he couldn't survive was the fire you set."

"Whoa," Alan balked. "I didn't – "

"We got you on camera buying the propane!" Matt snapped. "And some of the camp residents place you at the scene on the morning of the fire." Kelly turned to see the patrol car roll up, sirens wailing and lights flashing. "I just wanted to dissuade you of the notion that somehow Jim's life was worth less than yours," Matt finished. "It wasn't."

If Matt's eyes could shoot lasers, Alan would be a pile of ash on the ground. Matt spun on his heel and went down the steps, looking like he could have thrown a car at the man if he wanted to. Kelly couldn't help but smirk at his best friend's fury, and he gave Alan a pointed look. "Be grateful he didn't punch you," he remarked. "I would."

"He's waiting for you," Matt told the patrol officers that walked up.

Kelly gave Alan a smug look, then jogged down the steps, able to hear the officers as he went. "Alan Wicker, you're under arrest for arson, planting an incendiary device, and the murder of James Benevides."

Matt was already in the driver's seat of the truck when Kelly hauled himself into the passenger's side. They watched Alan be escorted to the patrol car, and Matt finally started to let his tension go as the car drove away. Kelly looked at Matt, noticing his hand tight on the gear shift. He cautiously laid his hand on top of Matt's, and he felt the other man flinch. "Matt?" he asked carefully.

"Is it bad I really wanted him to give me an excuse to punch him?" the captain asked, his voice deep with lingering fury.

Kelly couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "Case, I would have beaten you to it."

Matt finally cracked a smile, enjoying Kelly's laughter as he put the truck in drive and peeled onto the street.

***

Cocker Spaniel: It's official.

Cocker Spaniel: I am so screwed.

Grumpy Cat: Congratulations.

Grumpy Cat: Who's the lucky guy or gal?

Cocker Spaniel: TK STRAND

Buck couldn't help but burst out laughing as he left the locker room at the 118, looking at his phone in amusement.

Golden Retriever: What caused it this time?

Cocker Spaniel: The only things I like better than being tactile with them.

Cocker Spaniel: Them giving their all when they're investigating.

Cocker Spaniel: And them going into cutthroat mode when they've got their guy.

Cocker Spaniel: It was almost embarrassing.

Grumpy Cat: Now I know how Paul and Marjan feel whenever Carlos visits the station.

Grumpy Cat: I can't blame them for their teasing now.

Cocker Spaniel: Shut up, TK, or I'll fly to Austin and kill you myself.

Golden Retriever: Oh, damn.

Grumpy Cat: So you're saying you'll come to Austin if I keep talking, eh?

Grumpy Cat: Challenge accepted.

Cocker Spaniel: How does your dad work with you?

Grumpy Cat: Oh, that's easy.

Grumpy Cat: He's batshit crazy.

Grumpy Cat: I just inherited it.

Cocker Spaniel: I am never introducing you to Matt or Kelly.

Cocker Spaniel: Never.

"Oh, man," Buck shook his head, chuckling as he stepped off the staircase, heading for the coffee pot. "Poor girl."

It was only then he realized there was complete silence in the loft. So silent, he looked up to make sure he wasn't the only one there. Sure enough, he counted Hen, Chimney, and Bobby . . . though all three were looking at him like they were seeing a ghost. Another look over the railing made him realize several other firefighters quickly looked away to avoid making eye contact.

As if that wasn't weird enough, Chimney had a look of . . . was that anger in his eyes? "Um," he said slowly, putting his phone in his pocket. "Did I do something already? Or was it something I did while we were off shift?"

"Buck," Bobby began.

"No, no, leave him hanging," Chimney waved it off. "You know, just like we were."

Buck looked around in bewilderment. "When did I leave you hanging?" he asked.

"What's with the silent treatment today?" Eddie asked as he jogged up the stairs behind Buck.

"That's what I was wondering," Buck nodded. "Apparently I left them hanging somehow?"

"Eddie, too, I presume," Chimney said conversationally.

Eddie blinked in confusion. "I am?"

"OK," Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm confused as hell."

"Yeah, ditto," Eddie looked around. "Guys? What's going on?"

"Eddie," Chimney leaned forward. "Did you know Buck and Maddie have a brother?"

Buck swore he stopped breathing.

Eddie, like him, had frozen in place, staring at Chimney, who looked as though he had revealed the secret to immortality. Hen had winced and was staring down into her coffee. Bobby looked torn between telling Chimney off and asking Buck for more information. Buck's eyes flew wildly across his crew members, then over the railing . . . where once again, several firefighters averted their gazes when he looked. "Does everyone in the firehouse know?" he asked softly.

"Know something important about one of our crew members?" Chimney huffed. "Yes."

"Chim," Hen began.

Buck could almost see when everything clicked for Eddie. If he had blinked, he would have missed the moment his eyes lit with understanding, then darkened in anger. One second, he was loose and relaxed; in the next, he was tense, ready for a fight. "Buck," he said slowly. "Is that what you were waiting for the right moment to tell me?"

Buck swallowed hard. "Yeah," he rasped. "Yeah, it was."

Eddie nodded thoughtfully, then leveled Chimney with a glare that Buck swore could freeze hell. "You have three seconds to tell me why I shouldn't show you why I was so good at street fighting."

"Eddie!" Hen's eyes widened.

"No, I want a reason," Eddie planted his hands on the table, towering over Chimney. "Because what Chimney just revealed is what Buck has been waiting to share when he was comfortable sharing it with us. Go ahead and tell me that isn't a severe breach of trust. Go on. Tell me."

Hen swallowed hard, shying away from Eddie's vitriol. Bobby was uncharacteristically quiet, arms folded as he looked between the two firefighters. Chimney's nostrils flared and he opened his mouth –

"I was a savior baby." Buck's quiet admission made all four turn to look at him. "I get the feeling you didn't hear that," he looked at Chimney, whose face was frozen. "We don't have a brother. We had a brother. One we lost to juvenile leukemia. He died when I was a year old. I never knew him. Because my parents had me to save my brother, and I failed at it. One year old, and I was already a failure." He stepped away from the coffee pot, his mouth suddenly dry, his stomach twisting in knots. "Maddie said she got a text while we were talking that you were staying at Hen's. You overheard us, didn't you?"

"Buck," Chimney was barely audible.

"And instead of keeping it to yourself or . . . oh, I don't know, asking us yourself, you thought it would be a good idea to . . . what, confront me at my work about it? Tell everyone I have a brother no one knew about, but you clearly knew nothing about?" Buck was shaking with fury, glaring at a cowering Chimney. "Eddie's right. That is a severe breach of trust. Not just mine, who you've known for years, but also my sister's, your girlfriend's. And that's something I'm not going to be able to forgive for a while." The silence in the loft grew uncomfortable very quickly, and Buck finally backed up to the staircase. "I can't handle this right now, Cap," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Go," Bobby spoke before he even finished. "Go, Buck."

He practically sprinted down the stairs, rushing past staring colleagues and into the locker room, bypassing the lockers for the restrooms. He braced his hands on the edges of one of the sinks, his knuckles already gripping hard enough to turn his skin white. He bent over the sink, trying to calm himself down and even out the nausea. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his head spin. He thought he knew what he wanted to do with what Maddie had revealed. After a night of hearing her memories, he had been thinking about how he wanted to tell the closest people in their lives . . . but for Chimney to reveal it like this? With key, critical information missing?

He didn't realize his knees had buckled under him until they were on the cold tiles of the restroom. He didn't register the door opening behind him until he heard a muffled curse and the door slamming shut. He recognized his best friend's cologne instantly, though, as Eddie crouched next to him. "Buck?" he asked softly. "Can I touch you?" Buck nodded rapidly, and the next thing he knew, Eddie was hauling him into the tightest hug he had ever received. Buck curled into him instantly, nose buried in his shoulder. "I got you, Buck," Eddie murmured. "I've got you."

"Chimney," Buck gasped out. "How . . . why – "

"I don't know," Eddie shook his head. "But I know if I could get away with murder, I would absolutely do it."

Buck swallowed hard. "Eds – "

"No," Eddie shook his head. "Don't even try to convince me otherwise. Chimney just made you reveal, on the spot, what you were wanted to be comfortable with before sharing. I respected that decision, and Chimney, in one move, ripped it away from you. There is no excuse for what he did."

Buck exhaled shakily. Just when he thought he couldn't be astounded by Eddie's loyalty more than he already was, Eddie blew him away. "God, you're incredible," he whispered.

Eddie choked on a laugh. "For showing basic human decency? What standards."

Buck grinned, shifting so he was sitting against the wall. Eddie joined him, and the two of them pressed against each other, keeping in contact. "Maddie's gonna be pissed," Buck finally said.

"She already is," Eddie said. Buck gave him a confused look, and Eddie grimaced. "I called her before I came down here," he admitted. "I gave her the bare bones of what happened, and . . . well, let's just say I never want to be on the wrong end of your sister's wrath. She's coming to take you home. Bobby's making calls to see who can come in to take your shift for the day . . . and if necessary, however long you need."

However long you need. Those four words solidified a decision Buck had been debating for a few days. Buck swallowed, forcing that thought down. "Thank you, Eddie," he whispered.

"Any day, Buck," he squeezed his hand. "Any time."

They stayed like that for a while, then there was a tentative knock on the door. Buck couldn't help but flinch; a low growl rose in Eddie's chest. "Come in!" Buck finally called.

The door opened to a crack, and Buck was surprised by the head that poked in. "Hey, guys," Josh smiled tentatively. "Exciting day, huh?"

"Is that what we're calling it?" Eddie asked dryly.

Josh's smile was more confident that time. "Come on, Buck. I drove Maddie over, she'll take you from here."

"Ready?" Eddie murmured.

Buck laughed hoarsely. "No." He braced his hands on the floor and pushed himself up. "Let's go."

Eddie was up right after him, and Josh backed away from the door to let the two firefighters leave. Maddie paced the apparatus floor, and Buck could feel her fury whip around her like a thunderstorm. Just a few feet away, leaning against the engine, was a familiar blonde firefighter, her hair in a braid over her shoulder, her arms crossed. She did not look pleased, but Buck had the feeling it wasn't aimed at him. When she saw Eddie, she raised an eyebrow. "Things are going to hell again, huh, Diaz?"

"I promise I'm not getting into street fighting again, Bosko," Eddie riposted.

Lena snorted. "You better not." She pushed off the engine, walking up to Buck. "I don't know everything that happened, Buckley, but considering your sister looks like she wants to murder her boyfriend, I'll let you tell me if you want to."

Buck smiled timidly. "Thanks, Bosko."

She patted his shoulder. "Take care of yourself. I'll take care of Diaz."

Eddie snorted. "Thanks for that vote of confidence."

Maddie abandoned her pacing to walk up to Buck, her eyes blazing. "Of all the stupid, idiotic, traitorous things someone could do . . . " She took a deep breath. "Let's get out of here, Buck."

"Yes, please," Buck mumbled.

"Thanks for the ride, Josh," Maddie looked at her coworker.

"Any time, Maddie," he smiled. "Especially for my favorite siblings."

Eddie put a hand on Buck's shoulder. "Call me if you need anything," he said.

"You got it," Buck nodded.

Eddie gave him another quick hug, then jogged to join Lena. "Right, first thing for you to know. We are avoiding Chimney at all costs."

Buck watched Lena saunter next to Eddie, and he finally turned to Maddie. "Let's get out of here."

"Amen," Maddie threaded her arm through Buck's.

***

Matt looked far more relaxed that evening at Molly's, Kelly decided as they lounged out on the new patio. Matt was leaning back in his chair, one finger tracing the rim of his beer bottle. "I'm glad you were there," he said. "Otherwise, I might've broken that guy's jaw."

"Once again, I might have beaten you," Kelly smirked. "I wouldn't have stopped you." He sighed. "Sorry about Big Jim."

"Yeah," Matt glowered. "Me, too."

Right. Avoiding that topic, then. Kelly looked around the patio, pleased to see Herrmann's addition to Molly's was such a success. Gallo and Gianna were conversing quietly at the bar, Tony and Capp were at a table nearby, Herrmann was delivering drinks to Mouch and Trudy . . . and was Grainger with Sylvie again? He frowned uneasily. "Do you think Sylvie might actually be into Grainger?" he asked.

Matt's head swiveled to see where Kelly was looking, and he tilted his head. Whenever Grainger leaned closer, Sylvie leaned back, keeping a respectable distance between them. "I don't think so," he shook his head. "Based on what Mackey said, they had a clown incident on a call, and Grainger shooed them away."

"Ah," Kelly grimaced. "A thank you drink, then."

Matt sighed. "We're overprotective bastards, aren't we?"

Kelly smirked. "At least she's letting us be overprotective bastards."

Matt snorted. "There's that, at least."

***

Sylvie cut herself off after her second glass of rosé, finding her smiles becoming more forced. Grainger was wonderful, there was no mistaking that. But his obvious flirting still put her off, especially because he wasn't what she was looking for.

So when he leaned a bit too close for comfort once again, she finally sighed and put her foot down. "Grainger, I'm sorry," she said with a sad smile. "When I said I would go for a drink again, all I meant was for it to be a thank you drink. I'm scared to death of clowns, so you stepping in like that . . . I felt the need to think you. I meant what I said the other night . . . I like you, but as a friend. Not as something more."

Grainger took it far better than she thought he would. He smiled sadly, nodding and sitting back. "I admit, I kind of hoped this would be a second chance," he said. "But I get it. I would be happy with just being friends."

"Me, too," Sylvie smiled, offering her glass. "To friends?"

Grainger chuckled, clinking his beer bottle against her glass. "To friends." They drank, and Grainger swallowed before asking, "So which is it?"

"Hmm?" Sylvie raised an eyebrow.

"The two officers glaring daggers at me," Grainger tilted his head behind them. "Is it Casey or Severide?"

Sylvie's eyes bugged wide, and she coughed, swallowing hard. "What do you mean?" she finally asked.

"I know they're protective of you," he said. "I mean, the way they're looking at you . . . it's a little bit more than just best friend protectiveness. Is it one of them?"

Sylvie looked over her shoulder to see yes, Matt and Kelly were watching them. Matt tilted his head questioningly, and Sylvie gave him a reassuring smile. Matt nodded, then turned back to Kelly, engaging the lieutenant in another conversation. "That's complicated," Sylvie finally said.

Grainger barked in laughter. "There's a story there."

"Yeah," Sylvie admitted. "One it takes a lot of trust for me to tell."

"Understood," Grainger held up his hands. "I'll back off."

Before Sylvie could say anything more, her phone blasted a familiar ringtone. She frowned and searched her jacket pockets, then pulled out her phone to see there was an incoming call. She pulled out her wallet and a few bills. "I'm sorry, but I need to go," she said apologetically.

"Hey, go ahead," Grainger nodded. "Thanks for the drink."

"Yeah," Sylvie nodded absently, counting out what she needed to pay plus a tip. She dropped them on the table, then hastily pressed answer. "Buck?" she ran for the exit, well aware the eyes of many from 51 were on her as she headed for the sidewalk. "What is it?"

"I have my answer," Buck's voice said shakily. "I know what I'll be telling Captain Strand."

"Already?" Sylvie asked.

"Yeah. When one of your coworkers overhears a private conversation with your sister, takes everything out of context, and tells a secret you wanted to share to your entire firehouse . . . it makes it pretty easy to come to a conclusion."

Sylvie's eyes widened. "One of them what?"

"Yeah," Buck said darkly. "Chimney was coming home and overheard me and Maddie talking about Daniel. And instead of waiting to talk to us himself, he decided the best thing to do was tell everyone ahead of shift at the 118 that we have a brother – "

"Oh, no," Sylvie closed her eyes, leaning against the building.

"I thought Eddie was going to snap his neck right then and there. I don't think either of us would have stopped him." He took a deep breath. "But I can't see myself working at the 118 now. Not after what Chimney did. Not when Hen and Bobby didn't seem all too eager to stop Chimney from putting his foot in his mouth. Not when everyone else was looking at me the way they did. I'm going to take another day to think about it . . . but I'm pretty confident I know what my answer is."

Sylvie swallowed. "You're taking the offer."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna join the 126."

Sylvie smiled. "Hey, at least we'll all be in the same time zone."

"True," Buck chuckled weakly. "And, uh . . . you'll still be in Chicago?"

Sylvie sighed, letting her head fall back against the wall. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, working with you and TK? God, that sounds fantastic. Getting to work under Captain Strand? I know TK's biased, but that would be incredible. But here in Chicago . . . "

"Casey and Severide."

"Casey and Severide," Sylvie smiled. "They kind of need someone to keep them in line."

"I know," Buck said. "Kind of like you with me and TK. Look, Sylvie, no matter what you choose, I'm behind your decision. We still have phones and FaceTime."

"Yes, we do," Sylvie agreed with a fond giggle. "So make sure you use them."

"Yes, ma'am," Buck said. "I've got to talk to Maddie, but I'll call you again soon, OK? And TK. He's gonna flip."

"He definitely will," Sylvie agreed. "Let me know how he takes it."

"Copy that. Bye, Sylvie."

"Bye," Sylvie smiled, hanging up and just . . . leaning against the wall.

"So it's not just Casey and Severide you're into, but Grainger, too?"

She hastily pushed off the wall and whipped around to see Stella standing a few feet away, a thunderous look on her face, her arms crossed. "Excuse me?" her voice rose in pitch.

"Typical," Stella snorted. "All the white shirts are talking behind my back about how I'm moving up because of what I used to have with Kelly . . . and then there's you, sneaking around with three well-respected officers in the CFD. You even had the chaplain at one point! What, are you trying to sleep your way up the chain?"

Sylvie blanched, feeling her stomach do somersaults. "What the hell, Stella?" she sputtered.

"You have Kelly and Casey risking their lives to save you," Stella stepped forward; Sylvie instinctively stepped back. "You have them bending over backwards to make you happy. And now you have Grainger wrapped around your finger, too! Don't think I haven't heard how he's following you like a lovesick puppy."

"Stella," Sylvie said weakly.

"No," Stella shook her head. "That's what they think of me when it's you who's been doing exactly what they're afraid of."

"That's not me!" Sylvie protested. "Stella, that's not me at all!"

"Yeah?" Stella scoffed. "I doubt the brass would believe that." She smirked cruelly. "Especially if the whole jumping out of rigs thing was brought up."

Sylvie felt her face drain of all remaining color. "Stella," she whimpered. "Please . . . "

"Stay away from Severide, Brett," Stella gave her an iron look. "Hell, stay away from Casey while you're at it. They're not yours to take. I don't think the brass would look too kindly on a paramedic making two of their top officers take crazier and crazier risks for them." Her smirk widened. "And I wonder what Casey and Severide would think of your friendship if they knew you loved them both."

And if that wasn't a gut punch to the chest, Sylvie didn't know what was. "Stella," her voice cracked.

"Seems pretty simple to me," Stella shrugged, backing up towards Molly's. "Just keep that in mind, why don't you?"

She practically skipped back to Molly's, leaving Sylvie standing on the sidewalk, her mouth open in shock, tears glittering in her eyes. Stella had attacked everything in just a few sentences: her career, her friendships, the ones she loved . . . even her values. There was no way she was ever going to "sleep up the chain" . . . but with the way Stella was framing it? Who would the many officers in the CFD would believe?

Nausea made her turn and run down the street, hastily apologizing to anyone she bumped into. She got as far away from Molly's as she could before she burst into the closest convenience store and barreled for the bathroom. Mercifully, it was unlocked, and she threw herself inside, locked the door, and threw up what little she had in her stomach. She hadn't had much, balancing what alcohol she drank with water, but the bile and liquid was enough to make her throat burn.

When she had finally thrown up what she could, she spat into the toilet and flushed the vomit away. She carefully stood back up, leaning against the wall, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her face. She didn't doubt Stella's intentions now. When Stella Kidd wanted something, she would go to great lengths to get it done. Girls On Fire was an example of that. She had never thought the woman would threaten others. She knew better now.

Before she could change her mind, she fumbled for her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She found the one she was looking for and pressed dial, biting her lip and putting her phone to her ear.

"Sylvie?" TK's voice was full of surprise. She could hear country music in the background, and the sound of laughter. He must have been out with his house. "Everything OK?"

Sylvie sank her teeth into her lip to avoid whimpering. "No," she croaked. "No, TK, everything isn't OK."

"Whoa." TK sounded much more concerned. "Hang on, what can I do?"

"Um," Sylvie pushed off the wall, wrapping her other arm around herself as tightly as she could. "Is your dad there?"

"Yeah, he's here. We're out with the house."

"I need to talk to both of you. Right now."

"Yeah, just hang on. DAD!"

There was muffled talking on the other end, and Sylvie checked herself in the mirror. She couldn't help but laugh bitterly, taking in her red eyes, her blotched skin, and her general disheveled appearance. She didn't look anything like herself. Damn you, Stella.

"Brett?" Owen's voice matched his son's concern. "I'm here."

"Thank you," Sylvie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Any chance I can give you my answer now?"

"Now?" Owen parroted.

"Sylvie, you're starting to scare me a little," TK said nervously. "What happened?"

"Nothing I want to say over the phone," Sylvie swallowed; she winced when she tasted bile, and she spat in the sink before turning the water on. "I don't want to get sick again."

"Again?!" TK all but shrieked.

"We'll get to that later," Owen cut in. "What can I do for you, Brett?"

Sylvie closed her eyes. She hated doing this, she despised it . . . but she wasn't going to fight Stella. Buck had made his decision. So had she.

"You can tell me how soon you want me in Austin to join Squad 9."

***

Yeah, I'll just leave this here. I don't think there's much for me to say, really.

Well, nothing except we'll see Buck and Sylvie prepping for their moves in the next chapter. I'd say the one after that is when they finally meet the Strands once again, and Owen goes into protective captain mode.

graphic by marvelity

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