Owen becomes an empty nester, Marjan serves some karma, Matt throws a literal wrench into a plan, Mateo hears far more than he probably should've, Sylvie has the 126's braincell, and lightning strikes a second time when Kelly reaches his breaking point.

Enjoy the first parts of "A Little Help From My Friends" and "A Couple Hundred Degrees!"

***

Eddie: Asking here so everyone is pressured into answering

Kelly: Who flew to Austin without my permission

Joe: Like we would do that!

Capp: . . .

Capp: Cruz

Capp: Reread the lieutenant's sentence

Tony: We would

Capp: Well

Capp: We would

Tony: ^

Kelly: Seriously

Kelly: Please tell me none of you flew to Austin without me knowing

Kelly: I will murder all of you if you did

Joe: Not it!

Capp: We would take you with us if we did!

Owen: If they're in Austin

Owen: They're nowhere near the 126

Kelly: Hmm

Kelly: Sylvie?

Sylvie: I do not have room in my new place for them

Sylvie: Unless two of them shared a bed

Joe: I mean

Tony: We could cram into smaller spaces

Sylvie: . . .

Sylvie: Let me rephrase

Sylvie: They are not in my new place

Eddie: And they're not with me and Buck

TK: They haven't been near Dad's

Joe: {Image: Joe with Tony and Capp at Molly's, all three with beers raised at the camera.}

Joe: We aren't in Austin guys

Kelly: Oh thank God

Kelly: I don't want a shift of Squad firefighters I don't know

Tony: Aw

Tony: Severide loves us

Kelly: I love Sylvie more

Kelly: So thin ice Ferraris

Joe: Everyone loves Sylvie more

Buck: True

TK: ^

Owen: . . .

Owen: True

TK: Ouch

Eddie: Can I ask my question now

Capp: Go for it

Eddie: So

Eddie: Captain Strand

Joe: Uh oh

Tony: Pulling out the rank

Capp: This'll be good

Owen: If this is for me

Owen: Couldn't we wait for shift

Eddie: Nope

Eddie: I need Squad 3 to help apply pressure

Sylvie: Oh no

Joe: Oh boy

Kelly: What did you do Cap?

Owen: I . . .

Owen: Don't know?

Eddie: What did you do to make everyone move out one after the other

Capp: That was anticlimactic

Kelly: Wait

Kelly: Buck moved in with Eddie

Kelly: Sylvie got her own place

Kelly: That leaves . . .

Kelly: What the

Kelly: TK???

TK: Carlos invited me to move in with him!

TK: And I said yes!

TK: So lay off my dad

Sylvie: When did it become a crime to move out of my captain's house

Buck: Apparently some time after I did it first

Buck: Though now I'm living with Eddie for a completely different reason?

TK: Hi everyone it's Carlos

TK: Just checking why my boyfriend threw his phone at the wall and started laughing hysterically

TK: Ah

TK: I see

TK: Yeah neither of you wanted the other anywhere else other than under the same roof

TK: Everyone at the 126 knew it before either of you did

Sylvie: I helped get Eddie at the 126 for the sole reason of putting him with Buck

Sylvie: The fact he's an amazing paramedic is just a bonus

Eddie: . . .

Eddie: Yeah I can't argue with that

Eddie: She basically led into her offer with "so what if I could give you Buck and a job at the same time"

Kelly: That's my girl!

Joe: Well if no one's gonna say it I will

Joe: When's she gonna pull that on Casey and Severide

Capp: ^

Tony: ^^

TK: ^^^

Buck: ^^^^

Sylvie: Oh my God

Kelly: Why did Kelly drop his phone on the couch and get himself a beer?

Sylvie: Hi Matt

Sylvie: Squad 3 thinks I'm trying to poach you and Kelly for Austin

Kelly: Oh

Owen: I mean

Owen: If you two ever want a change of scenery

Sylvie: OWEN

Joe: AHA

Eddie: This was not where I planned on this going

Eddie: But I will allow it

Buck: I think it's what she deserves after all that Plotting

TK: ^

Owen: Sylvie

Owen: I think you should run

Sylvie: Bold of you to think I can't take on all of them

Capp: Challenge accepted

Sylvie: NO I TAKE IT BACK

***

"We clear?"

"Yeah, clock an inch to your right – " Carlos yelped when he bumped into the doorframe, barely managing to keep his grip on the bubble-wrapped furniture he helped carry. TK winced, giving him an apologetic smile. "My right. Sorry."

Carlos shook his head, forgiving him as he carefully walked backwards into the house. "Hope you haven't sent Buck into a wall of fire with that sense of direction."

"Well, Buck has a much better sense of direction than you do," TK grinned teasingly.

"OK," Carlos rolled his eyes. "And that's why it took him so long to get with Eddie."

"Technically Eddie was the one who made a move," TK corrected.

Carlos snorted. "Buck was the one who kissed him first."

TK shrugged. "Potato, potato."

"OK, fine," Carlos huffed, eyeing where they were walking. "Let's just put this down here before we do any structural damage."

TK nodded in agreement, lowering the equipment to the ground. "Are you sure you're alright with having my exercise bike in the middle of your dining room?" he asked, looking around Carlos's main floor, seeing all the boxes to unpack.

Carlos chuckled, walking up to him. "It's our dining room now, TK," he reminded him.

TK beamed, pecking Carlos on the lips. Their dining room. Yeah, he liked the sound of that.

"Well, I do believe this is the last of it!" Owen announced from the door.

TK turned to see his dad in a simple T-shirt, jeans, and AFD cap walk through the door, a cardboard box with a silver bow in his arms. "Dad, what is that?" he frowned, walking over.

"Eh, just a little housewarming present for you guys," Owen shrugged.

"Captain Strand, you didn't have to do that," Carlos sighed.

"It's Owen, and yes, I did," Owen shook his head, patting the box. "Go on, open it."

TK had always loved opening presents, so it was no surprise to Owen that his son immediately pounced and opened the box at lightning speed. When he saw what was inside, however, TK's jaw dropped. "Oh, my God!"

"Huh?" Owen grinned. "Huh?"

TK held up the blender inside, looking at Owen in disbelief. "Is this Marlon Blendo?!" When Owen nodded in confirmation, TK immediately shook his head. "Dad, we can't accept this!"

"Well, you better," Owen snorted. "'Cause I'm not driving over here every morning to make you your peanut butter banana smoothies." He reached up and ruffled TK's hair, Carlos watching with a laugh as TK tried to avoid the hand. "Besides, turned out your mom left hers when she visited Austin after you were shot, so I'm keeping that one." His expression turned solemn, and he placed his hands on TK's shoulders. "I hereby bequeath to you . . . Marlon Blendo."

TK beamed. "Thank you," he gave Owen a quick hug. "This is . . . this is everything."

Owen patted his son on the back. "Hey, you got tools?" he asked, peering into the dining room. "'Cause I can, uh, prep this pull-up bar."

Carlos was already shaking his head before the sentence finished. "No way, sir," he said. "You already spent your entire Sunday with us moving in."

"Dad, Carlos can handle himself," TK promised. "He's . . . very handy."

Carlos gave TK an exasperated look, and the firefighter smiled cheekily in response. Owen chuckled, watching their interaction. "Alright," he acquiesced. "Well, you guys probably have some celebrating to do, and I'll just moonwalk out of here."

"Thanks for all your help, Captain Strand!" Carlos called after him.

"Owen!" he threw back over his shoulder.

TK jogged to catch up to Owen at the door. "Dad!" he called, and Owen turned to meet him. "Are you sure you're OK with this?" he asked quietly.

Owen scoffed at the absurdity. "I'm more than OK with it."

TK shook his head. "I mean for you," he amended. "Are you gonna be OK? You know, all four of us from Squad were under the same roof for months. First Buck left, then Sylvie . . . and now me not even a few weeks later. And you have that cancer surgery coming up – "

"It's just an outpatient thing," Owen waved the concern away.

"It's not an outpatient thing!" TK huffed. "You're gonna be recuperating for, like, a week or two! I don't like that you're going through that alone."

"I won't be alone," Owen shook his head. "Got Buttercup!"

TK accepted the hug, then watched Owen leave.

***

"Wind up laying across your shoulders, so watch," Kelly told the recruits in front of him, using one of them as an example. "Shoot your arm between the victim's legs, you grab their wrists to lock them in place. It's as simple as that." He dropped the recruit back onto his feet, then pointed at one of the candidates. "Alright, your victims are gonna be waiting for you at the top. Mercer, you want to lead the way?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the young man nodded eagerly.

"Alright, let's go!" Kelly clapped, getting out his stopwatch to time them. "Move!" As the recruits ascended the scaffold, Kelly pointed to one turning to the next level. "Wiegand, what do you do if you start to lose balance?"

"Take a knee and protect your victim!" she answered at once.

Kelly nodded, watching the recruits lift their dummy victims into the carry he demonstrated. "Once you load it up, start back down. Nice and easy, free hand on the rail." He frowned, seeing one candidate increase his speed. "Slow down!" he barked. "Mercer, slow down!"

Mercer crashed into the rail at the end of one level, and the dummy flipped end over end. Kelly quickly backed away, and he winced at the crash signaling impact. He stared down at the dummy, then sighed, looking up at Mercer, who gulped.

***

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?

"My friend! Her arm is stuck in the ice cream machine! There's blood everywhere!"

***

"Squad 9. EMS 99. EMS 126."

***

"It's nice having someone else back here for once," Buck grinned, adjusting his headset as TK drove towards Ol' Softies Soft Serve. "It's been lonely since Sylvie jumped ship."

"We say 'jumped rig' when it comes to firehouses, Buck!" Owen called.

Buck snorted. "My mistake."

"Glad to get off the ladder for a shift," Marjan smiled, readjusting her headset. "Thanks for having me tag along, Cap!"

"No problem, Marjan," Owen smiled. "If a Squad scene requires Eddie with Sylvie, TK's gonna need all the help he can get, and between you and Paul, you've got the higher heavy rescue scores. Once we get into the fire scenes, I'll have you partner with Buck. If Ladder needs you more, you'll stick with them."

"So she's gonna be a bouncer?" TK joked.

Marjan snorted. "Yeah, you won't ever find me guarding a club, TK."

"I'm just asking!"

"Alright," Owen straightened. "Look sharp!"

TK pulled into the parking lot behind the ambulances, and Marjan hopped out of the rig, joining Buck and TK as Sylvie joined Owen. "Dispatch said there's two injured," Sylvie told Tommy. "One still stuck, the other got his hand out. Take care of him, Eddie and I'll help with the rescue."

"Copy," Tommy confirmed, gesturing for Nancy to join her.

Owen opened the door to the shop, scowling when he saw a crew in letterman jackets aiming phones at a sobbing girl with her arm in the ice cream machine. "Alright, TikTok squad, it's an active rescue, so beat feet," he ordered, scowling when they looked at him in disbelief. "That's boomer for 'get the hell out of here!'" The crew scrambled to get away, and Owen nodded, stepping to the girl's side. "OK, we got it now," he told the employees standing nearby. "Thank you so much." He turned to the girl, putting a careful hand on her shoulder. "OK, it's all right, we're here now," he told her. "Captain Brett's gonna take good care of you."

"Hi there," Sylvie smiled, resting her bag on the ground as Eddie searched for supplies. "What's your name?"

"Sheila," the girl stammered.

"Nice to meet you, Sheila," Sylvie nodded. "Eddie, take her vitals and hook her up to the LifePak." Eddie nodded, hauling the pack out of the bag. "How's your pain?" she asked Sheila.

"I can't feel anything," Sheila admitted, tears streaming down her face. "I'm really cold!"

Sylvie side-eyed the soft serve machine. "Understandable, sweetheart. We're gonna get you out of here as soon as we can."

Eddie wrapped a pressure cuff around her upper arm, then handed Sylvie a shock blanket. As Sylvie wrapped it around her shoulders, Owen examined the soft serve machine, tongue clicking absently as he thought through the scenario. "She's not hypothermic," Eddie reported. "Heart rate's at 110. She's a little tachycardiac, but stable."

Sylvie nodded, turning to Owen. "What do you think, Captain?"

"We're gonna have to cut her out," Owen decided, clicking his radio. "TK, bring the K-970, the grinder, and a couple turnouts."

***

"K-970," Buck muttered, sifting through supplies on the rig. "The grinder . . . and you've got the turnouts, I assume."

"Yep," TK nodded, hauling the equipment over his shoulder. "Thanks!"

Buck watched him head into the shop, then turned to see Marjan fuming. "And what has the fox on fire?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Are those scumbags seriously trying to turn that poor kid into a meme right now?" Marjan spat, nodding at the letterman crew.

Buck sighed, seeing them aiming their phones at Sheila. "They're currently failing empathy courses, apparently."

Marjan scoffed. "That's it. I'm gonna put a stop to this."

Buck's eyebrows shot up as Marjan stormed towards the shop, and he gulped, hastily running after her, hoping Marjan wasn't about to murder a bunch of idiotic kids.

***

"Now, they're gonna put a cast on you at the hospital," Tommy explained to Keith as she applied gauze to his hand. "But, all things considered, you were pretty lucky."

"Pretty stupid!" Keith argued, glancing back through the window. "This is all my fault! Sheila was right, those guys don't care about me."

"The letterman jacket paparazzi?" Nancy raised an eyebrow. "What gave it away?"

"Nancy!" Tommy gave her a condescending look.

"She's right, though," Kevin sniffed. "All I wanted was for them to like me, you know? All I wanted was some friends."

Nancy shrugged, watching TK join Owen at Sheila's side. "Seems to me like you already have one. From what I saw, she stuck her hand in a meat grinder for you."

Tommy had nothing to say to that. Nancy spoke the truth, after all.

***

"Alright," Owen wrapped Marjan's turnout around Sheila as TK flipped the shield on his helmet down over his eyes. "This is gonna spark, might even hurt a little, OK?"

Sheila whimpered and nodded. "OK."

"And this is going to protect your eyes," Sylvie explained, gesturing to the turnout coat. Sheila nodded, and Sylvie averted her eyes, turning her head so she faced away from the grinder. "Keep your head down, OK?"

Sheila nodded, and Owen started to work on opening the ice cream machine. Sheila whimpered, and Sylvie steadily rubbed her back as Owen finally got the machine open. "Grinder!" he ordered. TK handed it over, and Owen went to work on cutting further into the workings of the machine until he could see Sheila's hand. He grimaced, seeing Sheila's bloody hand covered in soft serve and stuck in the workings. "She's still stuck in there," he said. "OK . . . maybe if we push the cylinder? You pull, I push, nice and easy."

"OK," Sheila gulped and nodded jerkily, refusing to look as Sylvie carefully took hold of her arm. "OK."

"Eddie, get the saline ready to irrigate the wound," Sylvie ordered.

"Copy!"

"Keep going, keep going, keep going," Owen chanted, watching as they pushed Sheila's hand out of the machine. "OK, I'm clear!"

Sylvie and Eddie took over when Sheila's arm was out of the machine, Eddie carefully removing the cylindrical tube around her. As soon as the metal was clear, blood sprayed from Sheila's arm, and Eddie quickly jerked to the side, watching blood splatter on the window, where the letterman group scattered. "Arterial bleed!" Sylvie shouted, stumbling backwards as Sheila collapsed in her arms.

"Gurney!" Owen shouted, sending TK into motion. "Get the gurney!"

"Get her on it," Sylvie ordered, Eddie bending to lift her by the legs. TK wheeled the gurney over, and the two paramedics hauled Sheila onto it. "Captain Strand, get me the tourniquet," Sylvie ordered, and Owen turned to her bag. "Eddie, start a line, run it wide open. We need to get fluids into her before she bleeds out."

Eddie bent over Sheila's arm, needle at the ready, but he shook his head angrily. "I blew the vein," he reported. "There's nothing in her AC. Her veins are collapsing." He looked at the LifePak, pursing his lips. "And her pressure's dropping, Cap."

"She's in hypovolemic shock," Sylvie deduced, thinking rapidly. "We have to try another way." She snapped her fingers. "Get the IO Drill," she ordered. "We're going straight into the bone marrow."

Eddie looked through their bags as Sylvie took a pair of scissors to Sheila's jeans, cutting all the way to her knee. She used an alcohol swab on her skin, then snapped on a new pair of gloves. "How can we help?" TK asked, appearing at her shoulder.

"Hold her still," Sylvie answered grimly as Eddie handed her the drill. "You, too, Captain."

"Yes, ma'am," Owen nodded, moving with TK to hold Sheila to the gurney.

Sylvie started drilling into Sheila's leg, and Eddie winced when he heard the beeping on the LifePak increase in tempo. "She's crashing!"

Sylvie stabbed the needle into Sheila's leg. "Run it wide open."

"Come on, Sheila," Owen whispered, watching the paramedics work. "Hang on."

The beeping steadily slowed, and Eddie sighed in relief, watching the numbers. "She's going back into normal sinus."

Sylvie stood on her toes to check for herself, and she grinned. "There we go!" She looked down, watching Sheila slowly blink her eyes open. "Hey, girl! You made quite a mess."

Sheila grinned sluggishly. "Friends discount for life."

Sylvie giggled. "I am definitely going to hold you to that." She patted Sheila's arm, then gestured to Eddie. "Let's get her to the hospital."

Eddie nodded, helping wheel the gurney out of the shop. Laughter made Sheila turn, and she scowled when she saw the letterman group. She looked at Keith, who had joined the procession to the ambulance, and deadpanned, "I told you they suck."

"Yes," Keith agreed, giving the group a dirty look. "They do."

***

TK draped Marjan's turnout over his arm and prepared to follow when he overheard the young man who appeared to be the ringleader. "So, do I call it 'Bloody Sundae' or 'Arms à la Mode?'" he asked.

TK scowled, about to yell at them, when Marjan appeared at TK's shoulder, smiling brightly. "Trying to go viral, right?" she asked.

The ringleader blinked, then flashed a grin that would have normally been charming. "Yeah, that's the plan."

"Oh, we have good news!" Buck appeared next, a mischievous smirk on his face. "My girl FireFox can help you out with that."

"Yeah, I got five million friends on here," Marjan held up her phone. "And they're about to find out what kind of friends you are. Check it out."

She tapped her phone to start the video pulled up, and TK chortled when he saw what played. "Hey, gang!" Marjan waved from where she stood in front of the shop. "It's your girl FireFox. Check out these sweethearts . . . so busy enjoying someone getting maimed that they didn't realize I was filming them!"

All smiles vanished when the video concluded, and TK had to cover his mouth to avoid bursting into laughter. "You can't post that!" the ringleader sputtered.

"Really?" Marjan raised an eyebrow. "'Cause I already did." Her phone started chiming, and she grinned viciously. "Ooo! Congrats, guys . . . you're blowing up!"

She didn't give anyone a chance to respond as she spun on her heel and marched back to the squad rig, where Owen was waiting with an amused look on his face. Buck and TK jogged to catch up with her, and TK whistled. "You are coldblooded, my friend," he remarked, holding out her turnout.

Marjan playfully bowed as Buck golf-clapped for her. "Don't ever forget it."

***

Matt walked into the kitchen with a sigh, scratching the back of his head. He frowned, seeing Gallo at the stove and watching Ritter's phone intently, both young firefighters looking a mixture of intrigued and disgusted. "What's got you two so interested?" he asked.

"Hey, Cap," Gallo waved. "You gotta see this."

Matt tilted his head, taking the coffee pot and a mug, then rounded the island. "Whatcha got?"

"First time we see Sylvie and her new partner in action, and it's because Marjan is filming idiots," Ritter snorted.

Matt raised an eyebrow, watching Ritter rewind the video. Sure enough, it was on Marjan's Instagram page, a vicious smirk on her face. "Hey, gang!" she waved. "It's your girl FireFox. Check out these sweethearts." She directed her phone towards a group of letterman jackets, who were pressed against the window of a soft serve shop. "So busy enjoying someone getting maimed that they didn't realize I was filming them!"

Matt jerked backwards when he saw the spray of blood on the window, then saw Marjan adjust the camera so they could see Sylvie and Eddie leap into action, Owen and TK scrambling to help. "Oh, boy. Arterial bleed?"

"Yeah," Gallo nodded.

"I texted Sylvie to ask if the girl was OK," Ritter said, putting his phone back in his pocket. "She is, just sluggish."

"Good," Matt nodded, watching Ritter head towards the table. He turned to Gallo, who had gone back to cooking breakfast. "Hey, Gallo." His youngest crew member looked up, giving Matt his full attention. "I wanted to let you know, with respect to our conversation before, that you don't need to worry. The headaches, all that? Stopped."

Gallo beamed happily. "That's great!" he cheered.

"Yeah, and I talked to Will Halstead over at Med," Matt continued. "So it's all good."

"What's all good?"

Matt almost spilled his coffee at the concerned voice over his shoulder. He turned to see Kelly had walked into the room when he hadn't noticed and was looking at Matt intently. He cleared his throat. "You know, I was telling Gallo the headaches had stopped. All cleared up."

Kelly hummed, narrowing his eyes. "Good," he finally said, picking up the coffee pot to pour his own cup. "I'm glad you're better. Would've made flying to and from Austin a bit more difficult if you had them."

Matt winced. "Yeah, tell me about it."

He raised his coffee to take a sip, then paused when the bells rang. "Truck 81. Ambulance 61. Person trapped, Grant and Noble."

He looked at his coffee mournfully, and Kelly snickered, reaching out and plucking it from his hand. "I'll get you a new one when you get back."

Matt sighed happily, clapping Kelly on the back. "Thanks, man!"

Kelly raised his coffee in salute, watching the firefighters and paramedics sprint out the doors.

***

Kelly was laying out pairs of gloves on the tables when Matt and Stella walked into the room, both with devices in their hands. "Grabbed the ones off Truck and Engine, found two older units in storage," Matt said, holding up what he held.

"That's plenty," Kelly nodded, gesturing to the pairs of gloves on the table. "I only need six."

Matt nodded, distributing the devices appropriately. "How's the class?" he asked.

Kelly shrugged. "Couple promising up and comers," he answered. "Then there's Jacob Mercer, who gives it his all, but . . . " He sighed. "Scares the hell out of me to see him in a CFD uniform."

Matt immediately drew his hand across his neck. "Drop the hammer."

"You think?" Kelly asked in surprise. "It's still pretty early."

"This is no job for wannabes," Matt nodded. "Me and Darden went through the academy with a guy named Mazzuca. It was one red flag after another with him, but somehow, he made the cut. Then, in his first year riding Engine, he drops his line, bails out on his team, and puts one of them in the hospital." Kelly winced at the story, and Matt nodded. "We either have the firefighting gene, or you don't."

Kelly nodded thoughtfully, then turned to Stella. He and his ex might not speak together often anymore, but she was the only other person in the firehouse constantly teaching due to her program. "What's your take?" he asked.

Stella blinked, obviously taken aback. "My take?" she repeated. When Kelly nodded, she shifted, looking pleased at being asked. "Well, uh . . . I mean, Girls On Fire isn't exactly the academy, but, in my experience, there's a lot of raw talent out there, and with encouragement and a little support, you'd be surprised how some people can rise to the occasion." Kelly mulled it over, then a curly-haired head poked in the doorway. "Case in point," Stella smirked. "Hey, Kylie! What's up?"

"Uh, Lieutenant Severide?" Kylie looked at Kelly. "Chief asked if you could join him in his office."

Kelly looked at Matt in surprise, wondering if his best friend knew what this was about. When Matt shook his head, Kelly stood and walked down the hall to Boden's office. When he stepped in the doorway, he saw Boden wasn't alone and was chatting with a grey-haired man. "Ah, Severide!" Boden grinned, standing from his chair. "Come on in. I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Chief Gary Mercer."

Kelly froze, mind making the connection immediately as the other man grinned and extended his hand. "Kelly Severide, I've heard a lot about you. From Boden, and from my son."

"Jacob," Kelly deduced.

"That's right," Mercer nodded.

"Mercer and I, we served together on Engine 93," Boden explained. "Saved me from more scrapes than I care to remember."

Mercer snorted. "More of the bar brawl variety than anything else."

"Yeah, don't you listen to him," Boden shook his head.

Mercer chuckled. "Anyway, Kelly, I just wanted to meet the man who's shaping my son's future. I appreciate you keeping an eye on him. He's a great kid. He's wanted to be a firefighter his whole life."

Kelly nodded slowly. "He's a . . . hard worker," he finally decided on saying. "Always first to volunteer for a drill."

"Well, that's good to hear," Mercer smiled.

"Yeah, uh . . . " Kelly cleared his throat, quickly finding a reason to bail. "Gonna finish setting up."

"Yeah, go on, get out of here," Boden dismissed him.

"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant!" Mercer grinned.

"Chief," Kelly waved in response, quickly backing out of the office.

***

"And this is the firehouse Brett decided to join?" Delaney asked with a frown, handing Grainger's phone back to him.

"That was my reaction when I saw the video," Grainger snorted, pocketing his phone and readjusting his hold on the coffee tray he held. "I mean, it's one thing to hear firsthand from Casey and Severide what the house goes through on a daily basis. To see that posted?" He whistled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Everything's wilder in Texas."

"Ain't that the truth," Delaney snorted.

They walked into the apparatus floor, just in time to hear Gianna grilling the Squad table. " . . . anyone coming in or out?" she demanded.

"Yeah," Cruz nodded. "No idea how long it was there."

"You didn't see anyone coming in or out?" Violet asked.

"No one," Capp shook his head.

Both paramedics frowned, and Delaney raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright here, ladies?" he asked.

"Hey, Cap," Violet gave a strained smile. "Er . . . not sure yet. What brings you by the house?"

"Apparently, Severide wanted us to watch and give our opinions on something?" Grainger shrugged, holding up the coffee tray. "So we figured we'd be generous guests."

"Oh," Violet smiled. "Uh, they should be in here . . . somewhere." She gestured for them to follow her, and they walked into the common area just in time to see Matt walk through the doors to where Gallo was ready to put something in the oven. "Hey, Captain!" she called.

"Yeah?" Matt spun, then grinned. "Delaney! Grainger!"

"Hey, Casey," Delaney nodded. "How can we be of service?"

"Severide just needs opinions on a couple recruits," Matt shrugged. "Violet? Mackey? We could use some non-firefighter opinions, if you can stick around."

"Really?" Gianna looked excited at the thought.

"Sure," Violet nodded, checking her watch. "As long as we don't get called out."

"No problem," Matt nodded.

They all turned when Gallo yelped. "There's a wrench in the oven!"

"Literally?" Ritter turned from where he had cards in his hand.

"Oh, yeah," Matt nodded, grabbing an oven mitt. "That's mine!"

Grainger's eyebrows shot up. "That'd be one hell of a hit if you swung at someone, Casey."

"Don't make me swing it at you," Matt warned, going through another door. "Severide's by the conference room!"

***

Kelly was pacing the hallway when the quartet rounded the corner. "Hey, guys," he smiled in relief. "Thanks for coming by."

"No problem," Grainger nodded, handing over one of the coffees.

"Always happy to give my opinion on rookies," Delaney agreed.

"He isn't wrong," Violet grinned. "Best part of working at 20 was when he was grilling the candidates."

"That sounds like it would be fun," Gianna grinned.

Matt came down the hall next, and Kelly nodded. "You hide it?"

"Yep," Matt brushed his hands off. "Nice and hot, too."

"Just like this," Grainger held out the last coffee.

"Ah, my hero," Matt smiled in relief.

" . . . not with all the snoring and the alarm bells going off all night," Boden's voice came from down the hall.

"A lot of firefighters sleep with their boots on at night to save time," a young man's voice added.

Kelly recognized Jacob's voice immediately, then Boden arrived with the recruits. "Alright, then," he rubbed his hands together. "You guys learn anything?"

"Yes, sir," they nodded.

Boden nodded as they thanked him next. "You're welcome. Good luck to you all." He pointed at Kelly. "Listen to this man. He knows what he's talking about."

Matt gave Kelly a smirk in agreement, and Kelly cleared his throat, turning away and hoping his cheeks weren't red. "OK, one quick drill before you go," he announced, pointing into the conference room. "Over there, we have some thermal imaging cameras. Somewhere in this firehouse, we've hidden a pipe wrench that's been heated up to a couple hundred degrees. First one to find it gets to sit out next time we hump high rise packs up the stairs, alright?" The candidates nodded eagerly, and Kelly clapped his hands. "Let's go. Move it!"

The six scrambled into the conference room, all working to be the fastest. One was out immediately, and Gianna frowned. "Did he leave the gloves?"

"Didn't look like he put any on," Violet agreed. "That's a burn waiting to happen."

The rest of the candidates were soon out the door, the rest with gloves on their hands. "Five out of six look like they know what they're doing, at least," Grainger mused.

Delaney merely grunted, sipping his coffee. "He'll wait until the drill is finished before giving his scathing review," Violet said helpfully.

"I'm looking forward to it," Kelly admitted.

Gianna frowned in confusion, then yelped when someone bumped into her. "Oh!"

The young man didn't apologize, still focused on aiming his camera everywhere. Matt blinked, then cleared his throat and pointed after the young man as he continued his mad dash around the firehouse. "Is that Mercer?"

"Mmmhmm," Kelly confirmed with a sigh.

Matt clicked his tongue. "Not a lot of method to that madness."

"Ah," Grainger nodded in understanding. "You're here for our opinions on him."

"Yep," Kelly nodded.

"Not very polite," Gianna muttered, brushing off where Jacob had bumped into her.

"Where'd you hide the wrench?" Violet asked.

Matt checked to make sure none of the candidates were around, then sneakily pointed to the double doors in front of them. A few seconds later, one of the candidates came through, aimed at the door, then continued on. Delaney snorted loudly. "That one's hopeless, if they don't realize they can't get a reading through solid doors."

"What, you want me to make it easy for them?" Matt grinned.

Delaney shook his head. "Hell, no."

Jacob soon rounded the corner, took one look at the doors, then opened them and stepped through. "Oh," Grainger blinked. "Well . . . that's promising."

A few seconds later, Jacob cheered, jumping to his feet. "I got it! I got it!" he ran out of the room, then abruptly yelped.

The paramedics' jaws dropped when they saw Jacob had the wrench clenched in his bare hand, and the wrench fell to the ground as Jacob whimpered, staring at his burned hand. Grainger's eyebrows were in his hairline, and he hastily hid his mouth behind his coffee cup. Delaney was shaking his head in disappointment, and Kelly sighed. Matt cleared his throat, waltzing behind the candidate. "And that is why we never forget to put our gloves on!" he announced, clapping Jacob on the shoulder.

Kelly sighed, handing an oven mitt to Delaney. "Can you dispose of that while I handle this?" he asked.

"Oh, my pleasure," Delaney nodded.

Grainger leaned in to whisper in Kelly's ear. "He's not going very far in this, is he?" he asked in concern. "If that's how he does in a drill, I wouldn't want him anywhere near my crew."

Kelly didn't respond. "Can you help me take him to Med, just to be sure?" he asked the paramedics.

"Of course," Violet nodded. "We need to take a trip there anyway."

"Thanks," Kelly sighed in relief.

***

"He's lucky," Will told Kelly as they watched Jacob nurse his wounded hand, Maggie supervising him. "He wasn't holding the wrench for long before he dropped it. He should be ready to go by your next session at the academy."

"Good," Kelly sighed. "Forget 51's doctor, you might as well be the go-to for the CFD. First Sylvie and Mackey after the ambulance crash, then Casey, now Jacob."

Will nodded along before frowning. "Casey?" he repeated.

Kelly looked at Will, blinking in confusion. "Yeah," he nodded, gesturing to his head. "You know . . . with the headaches?"

Will's expression cleared. "Yeah, he told us a friend was having issues after a head injury. Connor recommended he see a doctor right away."

Kelly froze, his brain screeching to a halt. He fumbled for something to say, but while his mouth was open, no words emerged. Fact: Matt had said, in front of a good bunch of the firehouse, that he had spoken to Will about his headaches and that they were gone. Fact: Will had just now said that Matt said he was asking for someone else about a head injury. Fact: Will said Connor advised the recipient go for a doctor.

"Severide?" Will asked, and Kelly reeled, blinking and trying to get his bearings back. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," Kelly croaked, working moisture into his mouth and trying to push down his rising fury. "I . . . I must have misunderstood."

Will looked at him in concern before nodding and joining Maggie in Jacob's room, unknowingly leaving a fuming Kelly in his wake. The lieutenant wasn't even thinking about the candidate's injury now.

Matt had lied, and he had done it right to his face.

***

"Hey, Dad!" TK poked his head into Owen's office.

Owen plastered a smile on his face, turning in his chair to face him. "Hey! Good night, son."

"You have any dinner plans?" TK asked. "Carlos is making his grandma's ropa vieja and thought you might want to join us."

"Oh, that's very generous," Owen shook his head, gesturing to his computer. "No, I'm . . . up to my neck in incident reports."

"No worries," TK nodded. "Maybe next time. G'night, Dad!"

"Good night," Owen smiled, waiting until TK left before focusing on his game of Solitaire.

Eventually, the rest of B-shift poured in, and Owen left his firehouse in the good hands of the next captain. He changed out of his uniform into his civvies, then swung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.

He happened to pass by the gym, and he blinked when he saw Mateo flat on his back on the equipment. "Probie!" he called. When Mateo didn't stir, he frowned, walking into the room. "Hey, Probie!" Mateo still didn't wake, and Owen dropped his bag and ran to the young man's side, shaking him hard. "Mateo? Mateo!"

Mateo started awake, almost hitting Owen in the head. "Cap!" he stammered. "Sorry, I was just, uh . . . " He eyed the weights above him. "Resting between sets."

"That was a hell of a rest," Owen raised an eyebrow dubiously.

"Yeah," Mateo nodded, warming up. "I was doing, like, this high-intensity circuit training. It wiped me out."

Owen sighed, rubbing his forehead. This was like when Buck had been insisting there was nothing between him and Eddie. "Mateo . . . please stop lying, because you're terrible at it."

Mateo blushed. "Sure thing."

Owen nodded, folding his arms. "Why are you sleeping in the gym?"

Mateo fidgeted. "Well . . . because the B-shift kicked me out of the bunkroom."

"Ah," Owen nodded in understanding. "Yeah, well . . . same thing happened to me. I got kicked out of my office."

"That's not cool," Mateo snickered, looking up at Owen. "Wait . . . why aren't you going home?"

"Why aren't you going home?" Owen countered.

Mateo bit his lip. "Things . . . kind of blew up on me there."

"Did you have a fight with your roommates?"

Mateo shook his head. "I mean . . . literally blew up on me. Gas explosion."

Owen nearly dropped the weight he picked up. "Why didn't you tell anybody?" he demanded.

"Because it's humiliating!" Mateo groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "A firefighter whose house exploded when his idiot roommate messed with the gas line? I mean, how does that sound to you?"

"Like you need new roommates," Owen quipped.

Mateo sighed, muffling a yawn with his hand. "Yeah, well . . . if you know someone looking for one, let me know."

Owen paused, considering. "Actually," he said slowly. "I do."

Mateo blinked in surprise. "You do?" Owen nodded. "Oh, thank God, because I am desperate here." He looked up at Owen hopefully. "Who?"

Owen grinned. "You're looking at him!"

***

It was just Kelly's luck that for the rest of shift, Truck 81 kept getting summoned to calls, so there was no chance he would get the chance to talk to Matt before shift's end. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing; he was certain he had steam coming out of his ears from how pissed off he was.

He finally decided to walk it off a little and headed to Boden's office, rapping on the doorframe. "Hey," Boden waved him in. "Promising class you've got there."

"It's not too bad," Kelly shrugged. "You get a look at Chief Mercer's boy?"

"Yeah," Boden chuckled. "Still got some puppy dog in him, doesn't he?"

Kelly snorted. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

"Seems like he's got a lot of heart, though."

"Yeah, he does," Kelly agreed, hesitating. "But he's not a firefighter."

Boden frowned, removing his glasses. "No, he's a recruit," he corrected. "It's your job to turn him into a firefighter. That's why it's called training."

"I can teach him how to kick in a door, or to use a thermal camera," Kelly argued. "I can't teach him firefighter instincts. I can't teach him . . . " He gestured impatiently. "Common sense! I know you and Chief Mercer go way back, so I – "

Boden held up a hand, and Kelly cut off his rant. "Severide, you're the instructor," the chief reminded him. "You're the only one qualified to assess Jacob Mercer's performance. I'll back you up, whatever you decide."

Kelly sighed, shoulders slumping in relief. "Thanks, Chief."

There was one more opinion he was interested in hearing, however. He walked out the door, saw the crew of 81 finally returning before the end of shift, and he veered into the locker room, pulling out his phone and dialing.

There was an answer almost immediately. "Captain Strand."

"Hey, Captain," Kelly sat on one of the benches. "It's Severide. Hopefully I didn't catch you at a bad time."

"Severide!" Owen sounded pleased. "Not at all. Surprised you decided to call me and not Sylvie."

"As much as I love her, it's not her opinion I need right now," Kelly shook his head. "It's a question for a firefighter, not a paramedic."

"I see. Well, how can I help you, son?"

Kelly leaned back, biting his lip. "I'm teaching a course at the academy," he said. "There's this one recruit, Mercer, he's the son of one of the CFD's battalion chiefs. He's eager to learn, first in line to do any drill . . . lot of heart."

He paused, not sure how to continue. Owen did it for him. "Do you think he's cut out for the job?"

"I don't know," Kelly sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "Casey told me to cut him, Delaney and Grainger seem to agree . . . but Boden and Kidd raised good points. He's not a firefighter yet. He's a recruit. I'm supposed to help him learn."

"You are," Owen agreed. "He reminds me a bit of Mateo, actually. Kid was great in the field, but it was the written tests that nearly did him in. I know we compare Buck to a golden retriever, but Mateo was just like a puppy, an eager learner. It took nurturing to get him to where he is now. He's almost finished with his probationary period."

"How did you know to take him in?" Kelly asked.

"He said he was born to do this job," Owen answered truthfully. "And I saw that in him when no one else did. He just needed someone to take a chance on him."

Kelly closed his eyes. "Do you think I should take a chance on Mercer?" he asked quietly.

He heard soft footsteps enter the locker room, but he ignored it in favor of waiting for Owen's response. "I can't answer that for you since I don't know the kid," he finally answered. "But you've got the opinions of officers you trust. Take that advice and make your decision. You've got good instincts, Severide. You're one of the best in this business, and I've been a firefighter for decades. You'll know what to do."

Kelly smiled. "Thanks, Captain."

"Anytime, Lieutenant. Best of luck."

Kelly hung up the phone, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you gonna give this Mercer kid another chance?" Stella asked behind him.

Kelly pondered for a moment. "One," he decided. "Just one."

"Boden's not . . . " Stella struggled with what to say. "Pressuring you, is he?" Kelly immediately shook his head, and Stella sighed in relief. "I didn't think so, but . . . then why?"

"Because maybe there is a firefighter in there somewhere, trying to get out," he answered. "Why not make an extra effort to see?" Stella nodded, and Kelly winced. "And because if I do bounce him . . . it's gonna make trouble for Boden."

Stella grimaced. "Yeah, that's a pretty tough spot you're in . . . but I know you well enough to know that you will find the right way through." Kelly nodded, moving to gather his gear, and Stella cleared her throat. "Um . . . I was wondering, with the lieutenant's exam coming up . . . can we go over the squad criteria again? Maybe later this week?"

Kelly paused, mulling it over in his head. He still had the academy to work with, so . . . "Just the squad criteria?" he asked, just to make sure.

Thankfully, Stella nodded. "Just the squad criteria."

Kelly finally nodded in agreement. It gave him something else to do . . . besides focus on the fact that Matt had lied. "Some time off shift?" he offered.

"What about Friday?" Stella asked. "We have shift in the morning, but we can stick around and do it afterwards?"

Kelly nodded, relieved at the early time. "Friday," he confirmed. "Be ready to pull out all the stops. I'm not going easy on you."

"Good," Stella grinned. "Gotta train with the best to be the best."

Kelly nodded, grabbing his bag. "No brainer there."

***

"Now, the secret to perfect oatmeal is a dash of salt and a tiny scoop of chunky peanut butter," Paul announced as he cooked in the kitchen.

Marjan frowned. "What if you're not a fan of chunky?"

"Oh, you will be," Paul promised, then waved as Mateo arrived, hand on his stomach. "Hey, Probie! Just in time. How about a bowl of oats and chunky peanut butter?"

He didn't expect Mateo to turn green and gag. "Please don't say 'chunky,'" he groaned.

Marjan blinked. "Dude, you look tore up!"

"I had a rough night," Mateo sighed.

"Oh, yeah?" Paul tilted his head. "Roommates pressuring you into making bad decisions again?"

"More like roommate," Mateo huffed.

Marjan rolled her eyes. "I keep telling you, you need to start standing up to those people!"

"Yeah?" Mateo raised an eyebrow challengingly. "You try standing up to Cap. He's a force of nature."

Paul dropped his spoon back into the pot. "Cap?" Marjan repeated. "Like, our Cap?"

"Wait a minute, you moved in with Captain Strand?" Paul stared. "Bro, when did this happen?"

"Two days ago," Mateo admitted. "I thought I'd finally get some rest." He sighed. "Boy, was I wrong. Turns out he has 'tequila time' at his house when there's no paramedic captain to scold him and no son in recovery."

"Seriously?" Paul's eyebrows raised.

"Seriously," Mateo nodded. "With tequila on a five-year waiting list with agave grown in a volcano in Jalisco. Shot after shot . . . and turned out we get along great when we've had enough."

Marjan smiled. "That actually sounds like fun, though!"

"Yeah," Mateo sighed. "It is . . . until Cap gets hammer-time. Then he turns into an over-sharer."

"Cap, over-sharing?" Paul snorted. "Like what?"

Mateo looked down, worrying his lip, and worry settled in Marjan's gut. "Probie," she said slowly. "What did he share?"

Mateo gulped, then blurted, "He canceled his surgery!"

"His surgery?" Paul blanched.

"You mean his cancer surgery?" Marjan's eyes widened. "Cap canceled his cancer surgery?!"

Mateo nodded numbly. "Wait, Probie, are you sure you weren't just drunk-dreaming or something?" Paul frowned. "Because I cannot get my head around Cap doing something so flat-out dumb."

"No, I'm telling you, it was real, OK?" Mateo insisted. "The man's depressed, and given the shape that he was in last night, I'd be surprised if he showed up to work today."

"Hey!" Owen's bright voice came from behind, and they turned to see him walk in with a wide smile. "Paul, Marjan . . . roomie! What are you guys talking about?"

Paul and Marjan sputtered, staring at him in disbelief, and Mateo gave a weak smile. "Just about the, uh. . . situation at my house."

"Craziest story, right?" Owen chuckled, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

"Yeah," Paul stared after him. "Totally Crazy, Cap. Just . . . "

"Crazy," Marjan finished lamely, then smacked Mateo in the arm. "What happened to your house?" she hissed.

"Oh," Mateo blinked, realizing he'd never actually shared. "It blew up."

Marjan and Paul blanched.

***

"How the hell did he get up there?" Owen stared as Judd extended the ladder to the top of the house.

"Dormers are sealed," Carlos shrugged. "Our best guess is the boy squeezed out an attic vent."

"Brave kid."

"Just stay where you are, baby!" the woman at the end of the driveway called to the young boy on the roof. "They're gonna help you get down!"

"Tell them to go away!" the boy shouted back. "I don't want to come down!"

Carlos cleared his throat. "Captain Strand, this is Whitney," he introduced. "Her son, Shawn, is on the roof."

"Hi," Owen shook her hand. "How you doing?" She shrugged, and Owen gestured to Shawn. "Hey, has he ever done this before?"

"No, but he's never been this upset before," Whitney admitted. "Today's his birthday. I invited the whole neighborhood, but no one showed up. We're new in town. He took it really hard."

"Alright," Owen nodded, watching Judd raise the ladder. "Well, we're gonna get him down. My team here is the best in the business."

"Thank you," Whitney sighed in relief.

Owen turned as Sylvie approached, her eyes shielded as she looked up at Shawn. "Doesn't look like he's injured," she remarked. "Still . . . probably a good idea to check him out when he comes down."

Owen nodded in agreement, then heard the comms crackle. "I don't know, Probie, I've been watching him like a hawk all day," Paul said. "If the man's depressed, he sure has an amazing poker face."

Owen froze, feeling Sylvie's inquisitive look on him. "He does have an amazing poker face," Mateo agreed.

"Wait, who y'all talking about?" That was Judd. "Who's depressed now?"

"Cap." And that was Marjan, rounding out the ladder crew. "Mateo got wasted with him last night, and apparently, he spilled his guts about being super sad."

Suddenly glad that he was the only one keyed into all channels and that his crew hadn't heard a word as they deployed an airbag, Owen cleared his throat, clicking his radio on and ignoring Sylvie's boring gaze into back of his head. "Ladder 126, you're on an open channel," he said coolly, and he watched all four whip their heads around in embarrassment. "Excuse me," he gave Whitney a smile, then turned around. "Alright, Strickland, take off your gear," he ordered. "I'm going up."

Paul balked. "Why?"

"Because I'm the captain," Owen deadpanned. "I get to do what I want." He clicked his radio on, staring at Paul as he spoke. "And for those of you who are wondering, I am not sad, I am not depressed, despite what some blabbermouth might have told you."

They all had the dignity to look chastised as Owen suited up for the climb, though Sylvie held out her hand to stop him. "You know I've gotten past sober with you before, right?" she said quietly. "Really . . . you're good to do this?"

"Captain, I am perfect," Owen promised. Sylvie narrowed her eyes, then nodded and stepped back. Satisfied, Owen climbed up the ladder to join Shawn on the roof. "Hey, Shawn," he smiled. "My name's Owen. How you doing?"

"Leave me alone," the boy muttered, resting his chin on his folded arms.

"Well, I wish I could, buddy," Owen shook his head. "Your mom's worried about you, and I promised her I'd bring you down."

"I don't want to go down," the boy huffed.

"Alright," Owen shrugged. "Well, we don't have to do it right this minute, but I got to put this on you to keep you safe, OK?" He held up the tube he carried, and Shawn nodded. "Hands up, there you go." He placed the ring around him, then Owen patted the roof. "Hey, you mind if I join you?"

Shawn considered, then sighed. "I don't care."

Owen nodded, crouching by Shawn and surveying the view. "Yeah, this is pretty great," he admitted.

"I guess," Shawn mumbled.

"Man, I get it," Owen got comfortable, resting his arms on his legs. "Sometimes, you just want to be alone."

"I'm always by myself," Shawn shared. "No one even came to my birthday party. I have no friends."

Owen tilted his head. "I don't think that's true."

"It is," Shawn insisted.

"Well, your mom told me you just moved here," Owen pointed out. "You'll make friends. I just think you got to give it a minute."

"No," Shawn shook his head stubbornly. "I don't want any friends. Friends suck."

Owen considered. "Well, there's some truth to that, I'm not gonna lie," he admitted, seeing Paul, Mateo, and Marjan gathered with Carlos at the bottom of the drive. "Sometimes, friends are more trouble than they're worth. If they're not nagging you to your face, they're talking about you behind your back, or forming little cabals." He paused, feeling Shawn's stare on him. "And two shots of premium tequila, and they're betraying confidences," he grumbled.

Pause. "I think I want to go down now," Shawn said slowly.

Owen blinked, then grinned. "Okey dokey," he agreed, standing and helping Shawn to the ladder. "Let's go."

***

"Once inside the smokebox, I want you to conduct a left-hand sweep for victims," Kelly told the recruits. "Visibility is gonna be close to zero. Just remember to stay low and keep in contact with your partners." He pointed to two of the recruits. "Alright, Carr, Martinez, you guys ready?" When he got nods of confirmation, he pointed to the scaffold. "Head up. Go." He watched the pair ascend, then nodded when they reached the door. "Go!" The pair darted inside, and Kelly turned to the next pair. "Alright, Wiegand, Burke, you guys are next, start double-checking your SCBAs." They nodded and went to work. "Mercer," Kelly turned to Jacob. "How's the hand?"

"OK," Jacob shrugged, looking at the bandage. "Just glad I can still be useful."

Kelly nodded, then heard Wiegand behind him. "Lieutenant?" He turned to see her take a sniff of her mask and make a face. "My air smells weird."

Kelly walked over to check for himself, and he recoiled at the smell. "Smells like diesel exhaust," he muttered, checking his surroundings. He saw the tanks nearby . . . then saw the rig rumbling nearby, and his blood froze. "Mercer, what the hell did you do?" he demanded, spinning on the recruit.

Jacob stammered, looking like a deer in headlights. "I don't know!"

"These tanks are filled with carbon monoxide!" Kelly snapped, looking up at the scaffolding. The door teetered open, and Kelly saw one of his recruits topple out and drop like a sack of potatoes, his helmet crashing onto the pavement. Kelly was off like a lightning bolt, darting up the scaffolding easily and reaching the young firefighter. "Hey, hey!" he removed the mask. "Hey, come on, hey . . . hey, breathe," he lightly tapped the firefighter's cheek. "Can you breathe?" The man's eyes bugged open, and he inhaled greedily. "Take a breath," he said calmly, then stood on the scaffold. "Hey, Wiegand!" he yelled. "Give me a hand! You guys go get help, now!" he pointed to the remaining pair of geared-up firefighters. "Mercer, open up all the doors and windows, now!"

He waited for Wiegand to ascend before he stood. "Help him," he ordered, leaning on the door handle and taking a few deep breaths before opening the door and stepping inside the smokebox. He knew this drill like the back of his hand, and he searched every corner until he found his fallen recruit. He grabbed him under the arms and dragged him out of the smokebox, back to where Wiegand held the door open for him as he released his recruit and ripped off his mask. "Breathe," he urged. "Just breathe."

Clattering on the scaffolding made him look down, and he was surprised to see Commander Hawkins expertly scale the stairs. "Lieutenant!" he called.

"Commander," Kelly sighed in relief, looking down at his recruits. "Thank God."

"We got it from here," Hawkins promised, surveying his patients. "God, what the hell happened?"

Kelly looked down, feeling his blood boil when he saw Jacob frozen at the bottom, not having moved at all from where he had been before Kelly entered the smokebox. "I made a mistake," was all he answered.

Hawkins looked at him in concern, but didn't ask for more elaboration.

***

"He did what?!"

Sylvie paused in shutting her locker, then finished shutting it and walked out onto the apparatus floor, where TK was staring at Mateo in horror. Poor Mateo fumbled over his words before finally stammering, "He canceled the surgery."

"Oh, my – " TK closed his eyes. "Dad."

"Look, he's depressed," Paul insisted. "And he can't just . . . walk around here like nothing's wrong!"

"Well, are you gonna say that to his face, Paul?" Buck scowled. "How do you think he's gonna take that?"

"You wanna do nothing, Buck?" Marjan challenged.

"I didn't say that!"

"Look, I know I haven't been around as long as the rest of you," Eddie looked around. "But I still think I have a pretty good read on Captain Strand. How's he gonna take everyone just showing up at his place and reading him the riot act? You're asking for him to deflect and defend. That's not gonna help him."

"Well, what will?" TK exploded.

Sylvie cleared her throat, stepping closer. "You said Owen canceled his surgery?"

"Yes," TK groused. "And I am going to kill him."

"How about after the rest of us?" Judd scoffed. "For not taking his health seriously."

Sylvie's eyebrows shot up, seeing everyone else nod. "You're seriously just gonna . . . storm his house?" she asked, looking from person to person.

"If it makes him listen!" Marjan lifted her chin defiantly.

"Who do you think listened to him after Pilot Knob?" Sylvie challenged.

Marjan reeled, and Mateo gulped. "Sylvie – "

"We spent a lot of time in a mine shaft, too," Sylvie continued conversationally, examining her fingernails. "With phones that had no reception. Wonder what we did to pass the time?"

TK slumped, looking broken. "Sylvie . . . "

"Eddie's right," Sylvie nodded at her partner. "Owen's the type to deflect and defend . . . to people he hasn't shared everything with." She looked back at TK. "Let me talk to him first. If that doesn't work out . . . then we'll try something else. He needs a friend that's heard what he's had to say before."

TK bit his lip, then nodded. "Thank you, Sylvie."

She smiled. "What are friends for?"

***

"He refilled the air bottles while there was an engine company idling next to the compressor," Kelly explained through gritted teeth. "Diesel exhaust got sucked into the air intake. There was a warning sign right on the machine: 'Do not use near exhaust fumes.' It's been drilled into them!"

Boden shook his head, looking very disturbed at the thought. "The CO alarm . . . it didn't get tripped?"

"Oh, it did," Kelly chuckled darkly. "But Mercer didn't realize what it was, so he overrode it." Boden closed his eyes in defeat. "He's lucky he didn't kill anyone."

"I should have trusted your instincts," Boden sighed heavily.

"No," Kelly shook his head. "This one is on me. I was trying to avoid a tough decision." A tough decision that, had it led to Jacob being in the field, could have killed firefighters on duty.

And God, if Kelly had waited too long and a decision like that could have meant Matt was killed . . .

That riled him up even more, and Kelly abruptly stood. He needed out of the firehouse, and he needed out now. "Can I borrow your buggy?" he asked.

Boden blinked in surprise. "What for?" he asked.

"I just . . . " Kelly struggled to put his thoughts into words.

Boden must have seen his frustration, though, because he stood and took his keys. "I expect you back before the end of shift," he warned.

"We will be," Kelly promised, taking the keys.

Boden paused. "We?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Kelly nodded, storming out of the office. "I need supervision."

***

Kelly was avoiding him.

That was the only explanation Matt could come up with, considering he had not seen Kelly at all since the end of the previous shift. He hadn't even seen him at the loft . . . and that was a feat, since they shared the place.

It also explained why this was the first he was hearing about the incident that kicked Jacob Mercer out of the fire academy. "Damn," he shook his head, whistling lowly as Stella recounted the incident. "Those cadets are lucky Severide was there to get them out."

"Yeah," Stella agreed. "But I know that he blames himself for not acting on that Mercer kid sooner." Matt nodded in agreement. "I'm gonna go see if he's done with the chief," she decided, pushing off the counter. She stopped when Kelly barged through the doors, and Matt instinctively stepped back, knowing that dark look. Kelly was pissed to hell and back, and heaven help whoever was the recipient of that anger.

He was surprised, therefore, when Kelly took one look at him, set his jaw, and stormed up to him. "We're taking a drive," he declared, jabbing him in the chest before turning towards the apparatus floor.

Stella looked at Matt warily, and Matt shook his head, not sure what he had done to piss Kelly off this badly. "Why?" he asked, even as he set his coffee down. "Sev, what's going – ?"

He faltered when Kelly spun on his heel, growled at him, and spat, "I swear to God, Casey, if you don't follow me right now, I am putting you on the phone with Sylvie and having her chew you out instead."

Matt's feet were moving before the threat had finished, because God help him, he knew what Sylvie was like on a warpath. He'd rather take his chances with Kelly than the blonde paramedic.

He had to jog to keep up with Kelly, who veered away from the squad rig and went right to the battalion vehicle. "Er, Lieutenant?" Cruz pushed away from the squad table, a confused look on his face.

"If I'm not back by the end of shift, assume one of us has murdered the other," Kelly muttered, opening the door with far more force than needed. Capp and Tony stared at Matt with wide eyes, and Matt hastily shook his head, hoping his own bewilderment showed as he climbed into the vehicle after Kelly.

He had a feeling this was going to be the most awkward drive of his life.

***

The waterfront was remarkably devoid of visitors when they arrived, and Matt couldn't get out of the buggy faster. Kelly hadn't said a word on the drive, merely tightened his grip on the steering wheel every time Matt chanced a look at him. He swore he heard the lieutenant's bones creak from the strain.

Kelly slammed the door shut, and Matt winced as it rattled the buggy. He watched his best friend storm down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets. He followed at a more subdued pace, watching Kelly chew his lip as he walked, various emotions warring on his face. When Matt caught up to him, Kelly had stopped by the railing, bracing himself on the bar, his head bowed as he looked into the water.

Matt finally took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever outburst he was about to receive. "Kelly?" he asked.

A dark chuckle tore itself from Kelly's mouth, and the lieutenant shook his head. "I ran over this so many times in my head," he said, lifting his head to look straight ahead. He didn't look at Matt once, and that tugged on his heart more than he wanted to admit. "And now that we're out here, I have no idea how to look at you when I say this."

"What did I do, Kelly?" Matt gestured helplessly. "You've been avoiding me ever since shift ended."

"Oh, I would've been on you before shift ended if your crew hadn't kept getting called out," Kelly shook his head. "But no. It's not what you did. It's what you didn't do."

Matt frowned, thinking over what happened that shift. "I don't follow," he admitted.

Kelly snorted. "Maybe you can blame your head injury for that."

Matt took a step back, staring at Kelly in surprise. "What?" he asked.

"After what happened with Mercer, I realized something," Kelly said, his grip on the railing tightening, his knuckles turning white. "If I kept him in the program and this happened while on shift, someone could have died. And then I thought if it was you . . . " He shook his head, chuckling derisively. "I don't know how you did it."

"Did what?" Matt asked tiredly.

Kelly finally turned to look at him. "Do it again," he ordered, walking closer. "I want you to do to me what you did to Sylvie." He stopped inches from Matt, so close that it wouldn't take much more for them to be toe to toe. "Look me in the eye," he ordered, voice almost a snarl. "And promise me you're OK."

Matt's heart dropped into his stomach, and he instinctively opened his mouth to do just that. But his mouth hung open, the words getting stuck in the back of his throat. Green eyes met vivid green, and with a lurch of his heart, Matt realized – "I can't," he whispered, voice breaking.

"God, Matt!" Kelly burst out, whirling around and rubbing a hand over his face. "You said you talked to Will!"

"I did!" Matt insisted.

"When I asked him about it when I took Mercer to Med, he told me you said it was for a friend!" Kelly glared at him. "And that it was important to see a doctor with symptoms like that!"

"They did!" Matt agreed with a nod. "And then the symptoms went away."

Kelly stared at him, jaw hanging open. "You actually believe that?" he asked. "You seriously believe that?"

Matt swallowed hard. "Kelly – "

"No," Kelly shook his head. "You know what? I've heard enough of you trying to excuse this. It's my turn to talk." Matt's mouth clicked shut, and Kelly glared at him, green eyes like acid eating away at his. "I took you at your word when you said you were fine. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that each and every time something led you to my quarters. In this line of duty, we both know that a head injury can be serious. You cannot just sit around twiddling your thumbs hoping nothing goes wrong."

Matt gulped. "If I thought something was wrong, I would've asked Sylvie while we were in Austin."

"Sylvie wasn't there when you had your first injury," Kelly countered, blowing Matt's argument to pieces. "I was. I was the one who saw how you reeled and tried to recover. And me, being the stupid idiot I am, didn't push you because I thought you would take another head injury seriously."

Matt took a tentative step forward, but froze when Kelly shook his head, taking a step back. That pained Matt more than any injury, and everything – the shame of hiding the injury, trying to bury it and not think about it, lying to the two that meant the most to him – crashed on him at once, and Matt felt himself waver on his feet. "I'm sorry," he choked out, not knowing how to put everything into words. "God, Kelly, I'm sorry."

Kelly's teeth sank into his lip, the lieutenant looking more broken than he'd ever seen. "Fool me twice, right?" he asked rhetorically.

And if that wasn't a sucker punch to the gut, Matt had no clue what the hell it could be. "I am, Kelly," he insisted, fingers curling into fists. "I'm sorry, Kelly. Sorry I brushed it off, sorry I hid how serious it might be, sorry I lied . . . "

Kelly finally looked him in the eye again, and Matt trailed off, barely keeping himself together. The lieutenant looked utterly wrecked from the outburst, from everything that had poured out of him, and Matt realized . . . this had been bottled up for hours, for days, after their last shift. Matt had only seen him like this for one other person, and to now be on the receiving end of this look? Matt didn't know how he wasn't a wreck himself.

Judd had been right. Lightning, it turned out, could strike twice.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He couldn't have found a better time to realize he was in love with both of his best friends, could he? "I'm sorry, Kelly," he repeated, putting every emotion he felt into his words. "I can't apologize enough."

Kelly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of his own when he heard the sincerity. Matt meant it, he meant every word. He opened his eyes again, seeing the swirling storm of grief-regret-desperation-hope in Matt's; he couldn't look further, he didn't want to look further, not if he wanted to hold himself together. "I know," he nodded. "I know you can't. Just . . . " He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Promise me you'll do something," he whispered. "Do something, Matt, promise me. If not for your peace of mind, then for mine."

"I promise," Matt nodded at once. "As soon as shift is over, I will."

Kelly slumped in relief, nodding. "Thank you," he forced out past the lump in his throat.

"Don't thank me when I should've done it a while ago," Matt shook his head instantly. "Don't do that."

Kelly snorted, walking past him back to the buggy. "Better late than never."

Matt reached out quickly, snatching Kelly by the arm as he passed. Kelly paused in his steps, grabbing Matt's arm as well to avoid tripping from the sudden stop. Green eyes met green again, and Matt swallowed. "I mean it, Kelly," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

It took everything in Kelly not to pull his arm from Matt's grip, which felt like it burned through his jacket like a brand. All he could think about were those emotions in Matt's eyes once again: grief-regret-desperation-hope-fear-want-

Kelly stopped himself before he identified anything else. There was only one thing he could say in response to all of that.

"I believe you."

***

When I say I've never written original content faster, I mean it. That Sevasey scene at the end was out faster than anything else in this chapter. I knew this was where it was going to end, where everything with these two was really going to start, and boy, I hope I delivered.

The chapters will conclude next time, and to those of you who are still wanting to guess who Sylvie's half-sibling was . . . another hint is that SVU is not what Peter and Sonny have in common. This character hasn't appeared in SVU . . . at least, not yet. Maybe that'll help some of you out.

I've also come to the conclusion I should probably have drunk!Owen and drunk!Sylvie at some point . . . *snickers* Yeah, like that won't be an utter trainwreck.

Check in soon!

graphic by marvelity