. . . so what's the longest chapter in this book so far? Somewhere in 13K? Because of course this would be the chapter to just blow that out of the water at 14.3K, and I didn't want to cut out a single one. If anything, I wanted to add more to the end, but that would be too . . . wordy. Ugh. Words, am I right? XD

So. Summary. *clears throat* As everyone in New York reels from the fallout of Kathy Stabler's death, Matt and Kelly grapple with each other in Chicago as the wait for Matt's results gets the better of both of them. Sylvie crosses paths with a friend once again, Squad 3 holds an intervention, and a slow burn is suddenly no longer such a slow burn.

Enjoy the conclusions of "Return of the Prodigal Son" and "Natural Born Firefighter!"

***

"Her spleen ruptured," Elliot explained quietly as they gathered in the waiting room. "They took her into surgery, but it was too late." He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands, tightly held by Owen and Olivia. "I didn't get to say goodbye."

"I'm so sorry, Elliot," Olivia whispered, her voice breaking as she squeezed as tightly as she could.

"I just don't get it," Elliot looked up at them, a broken look in his eyes. "We were happy!"

"I know, El," Owen nodded. "We know."

Olivia looked around the waiting room, relieved to see TK was speaking with Carlos, the cop holding his boyfriend close. Buck and Eddie huddled with Sylvie, the paramedic curled up in her seat, arms wrapped around her legs. "Elliot, where are the kids?" she asked gently.

Elliot started, eyes widening. "I gotta call them," he stammered, searching for his phone. "I gotta . . . I gotta – "

"Elliot," Owen leaned forward. "What can we do to help?"

"I don't know what to tell 'em," Elliot admitted, then he balked, all color draining from his face. "Oh, my God . . . Eli is in Rome. I gotta get him back!"

"How about I call Dickie and," Olivia began.

"No, no, I'll do that," Elliot shook his head, gaze hardening as he looked at Olivia. "You just make sure this son of a bitch goes down for murder."

Olivia's own eyes hardened, and she gave Elliot a single nod.

***

Peter checked his cell phone for the twentieth time in the past minute, then blew out his breath in a rush and dropped it on his desk, running his hand through his hair afterwards. He knew the saying "a watched pot never boils" . . . he supposed that saying applied for when he was looking for a text message, too.

There was a knock on his office door, and he looked up from Lenski's files to see Sonny and Amanda in the doorway. "Stone," the Italian said.

The name was said with such weight, Peter had a feeling he knew exactly what news Sonny was about to give him. "What happened?" he asked, sitting upright.

Sonny sighed, running a hand through his own hair as he sat across from Peter. "Kathy Stabler didn't make it," he said simply, Amanda looking close to tears as she sat.

Peter closed his eyes, feeling his heart sink. "Oh, my God," he whispered, shaking his head. "Liv and Owen . . . " He took a deep breath. "How's Stabler doing?"

"Not good," Sonny shook his head.

Peter nodded in understanding, his grip on his pen tightening. "I'll arraign Sacha Lenski for murder," he said. "Up the pressure."

"I don't think we can count on that, Stone," Amanda shook her head. "We all know whoever's paying for his lawyer is not gonna let him take a deal."

"Does Sacha know that?" Peter scoffed. "Maybe it's time he figured it out for himself."

Sonny leaned back in his chair, thinking. "We could always just pull him out of Rikers," he suggested.

Peter considered, then nodded. "Good idea."

***

"His lawyer's on the way?" Kat asked as she, Fin, and Nick followed one of the guards towards Sacha's cell. "He say anything since he's been in here?"

"Not a word," the guard shook his head. "Quiet type."

Nick snorted his opinion of that, and the guard gestured for the door to open. "Lenski!" he barked as the man was revealed curled up on his cot. "Visitors!" He stepped inside, frowning when he got no response. "Wake up, scumbag."

He reached out to shake Sacha awake, and Kat's eyes widened when Sacha flopped onto his back, hand reaching towards the floor . . . revealing the needle embedded in his arm. "Call a medic!" Fin bellowed.

Nick rested two fingers on Sacha's neck, and he closed his eyes, feeling his anger simmer when he felt no response. "Don't bother," he growled. "He's gone."

"Who's been in this cell?" Fin demanded, spinning on the guard angrily.

"Nobody!" the guard stammered. "I swear!"

***

Olivia closed her eyes, feeling a migraine start to pound at her head. "Cause of death?" she asked.

"They made it look like an overdose," Fin answered grimly.

Olivia scowled. "Is there any way that he could have done this to himself?" she asked, playing the devil's advocate.

Based on everyone's faces in the room, even Peter's, she knew it was a lost cause. "We all know what this is," Peter shook his head.

"We do," Olivia nodded, turning to her 2IC. "Find out who got to him."

Fin nodded determinedly, walking out of the office with Nick and Sonny on his heels.

***

When Sacha's uncle was escorted out of his cell, he looked from Peter to Sonny to Fin to Nick, and he paused, seeming to realize that double the people meant something big. "What is this all about?" he asked.

"Your nephew, Sacha," Peter answered.

"They gave him a hot shot this morning in Rikers," Fin shared. "He's dead."

Lenski swallowed hard, then mumbled in Russian, making the sign of the cross as he sat down. "They know that a DA's been up here to see you twice now," Peter warned, his voice stone cold as he leaned over Lenski. "You're on borrowed time."

Lenski nodded slowly, then set his jaw.

***

"Her spleen ruptured?" Kelly asked, eyes wide as he and Matt walked out to the apparatus floor.

Matt nodded with a sigh. "They tried to save her . . . but she died on the table. Nothing they could do."

"Oh, my God," Kelly closed his eyes. "To have fought that hard to survive . . . "

"And have it feel like all that work to get better was for nothing," Matt shook his head, leaning against the truck rig. "That's a gut punch for everyone."

Kelly nodded, then paused, mulling that over in his head. He narrowed his eyes, turning to Matt. "Where did that come from?" he asked suspiciously.

Matt did a double take, turning to Kelly with wide eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Are we still talking about Kathy Stabler?" Kelly asked.

Matt opened his mouth, then looked up when the bells rang. "Squad 3. Ambulance 61. Person trapped, 462 North Clark Avenue."

Kelly stepped away from Matt, setting his jaw. "This isn't over," he warned, turning on his heel and jogging to his rig.

Matt stepped away from the truck rig as Violet climbed into the driver's seat of the ambulance, Gianna giving him a worried look as her partner peeled out of the bay.

***

Kelly recognized the building his crew entered, and he walked towards the tennis nets in the center of the indoor gym. "Fire department!" he called.

"Over here!" a blonde waved them over. "Hurry!"

Kelly and Violet broke away from the group to see what they were working with, and even Kelly grimaced when he saw the curly-haired girl's arm deep in the ball machine, blood dripping down her hand. "Alright, Squad," Kelly slipped on safety glasses. "Let's get this open."

Violet rubbed the girl's back, watching the crew get to work. What's your name?" she asked, making sure she was heard over the sound of sparks flying.

"Amber," the girl gasped. "This stupid thing jammed up. I was just trying to pull the ball out and . . . " She grimaced. "God, why did I have to use my dominant hand?"

"Hang in there, Amber," Gianna patted her back. "They're gonna get you free."

Amber looked up at Cruz, eyes wide. "How bad is it? I can't really feel anything."

"We can't see yet," Cruz shook his head apologetically.

Amber whimpered. "I start at Notre Dame in the fall to play Division One. I don't have time for an injury!"

Kelly stopped cutting, and he dropped his saw, bending down. "Alright, Cruz, grab a side."

"Yep," Cruz nodded, crouching down to peel back the metal.

Violet joined them, peering into the machine. "Am I gonna need stitches?" Amber asked nervously.

Violet sighed, seeing the damage done. "No. You've got a compound fracture."

"What?" Amber's voice rose in pitch. "Oh, my God!"

Violet turned to Gianna. "Get some gauze and a splint ready, Mackey."

"Copy," Gianna nodded, turning to their equipment.

"Lieutenant?" Violet turned back to Kelly.

He nodded, checking the gears of the machine. "Hold tight, OK?" he told Amber. "This might hurt a little."

Cruz reached inside, carefully maneuvering the gears inside, then emerged with the wheel that shot the ball. "Clear!" he announced.

Violet nodded, carefully drawing Amber's arm out of the machine. "Easy," she coaxed.

Amber gasped when she saw the damage done to her arm, including the bone poking out of her wrist. "Ow!"

"Alright, alright," Violet rubbed her arm, watching Gianna return with the open splint. "Behind you. Capp?"

"Right here," Capp nodded, readying the stair chair.

"Alright, take a seat," Violet patted the chair, and Tony joined Capp in easing Amber to sit as Gianna worked on the splint. "You are tough as hell, Amber. You're gonna heal up in no time."

Amber's next words chilled Kelly to the bone. "I hope so . . . because if I can't play tennis, I might as well be dead." His head shot up, and he saw Amber sob. "It's my whole life!"

Kelly swallowed hard, unable to look away from Amber's face . . . because the girl believed every word she was saying.

***

Pelham tilted his head, watching Ritter and Gallo chat as they sat in lawn chairs out on the apron. "And . . . what's the point of this again?" he asked Herrmann.

"Apparently that truck is in Boden's spot," Herrmann answered, pointing to the truck next to the sidewalk. "Even ignored the note Boden left asking for it to be left for him."

Pelham blinked. "Chief gets his own parking place?"

"He's parked there as long as anyone can remember," Herrmann shrugged. "I guess everyone thinks it's his."

Pelham hummed thoughtfully, then turned when he heard the rigs pull back into the station. The squad rig hadn't even settled into park before Kelly dropped down from his seat, expression set like stone. "Where's Casey?" he demanded as he stripped out of his turnout gear.

The two lieutenants exchanged concerned looks. "Uh . . . " Pelham thought rapidly. "His quarters, I think?"

"Thank you," Kelly said through gritted teeth, immediately storming into the firehouse.

Herrmann looked in bewilderment at the rest of Squad 3 as they dropped out of the rig. "What got him so riled up on that call?" he asked.

"Oh," Cruz exchanged looks with Tony and Capp. "We have an idea."

***

Matt rubbed his forehead, sighing sadly. "God . . . sounds like Stabler can't catch a break."

"It's awful, Matt," Sylvie said miserably. "We all thought it was a miracle that Kathy survived getting thrown from the blast like she did. Now that she's dead and the bastard who set off the bomb was killed in his cell . . . "

She trailed off, and Matt closed his eyes, wishing he could be in New York to give her the bear hug she sounded like she needed. "God," he repeated. "Please give him my condolences the next time you see him."

"I will," Sylvie sighed. "I just . . . how did this happen, Matt? How does this happen?"

Matt opened his mouth to respond, then his open door banged open all the way, and he spun around to see Kelly glaring down at him, green eyes blazing. "Talk continuing," he declared. "Now."

Matt's mouth clicked shut, and he cleared his throat. "I need to call you back," he said quickly, then hung up and dropped his phone on his desk. "What the hell, Sev?" he scowled.

"I should be saying that to you," Kelly seethed, shutting Matt's door and closing the blinds, giving them privacy. "I know we were discussing Kathy Stabler's life, but I don't think we ended talking just about her."

"Kelly," Matt began.

"That call we were just on?" Kelly plowed right through him. "Girl got her hand stuck in one of those machines used to shoot tennis balls for players to hit. Compound fracture, it's gonna take her out of the game for a while. You know what she said to Violet when she said she would heal?" He didn't wait for Matt to even open his mouth. 'I hope so, because if I can't play tennis, I might as well be dead."

Matt froze, feeling his heart skip a few beats. "She said that?" he whispered.

"Yeah, she said that," Kelly growled. "A teenager who just got into Notre Dame to play Division One. Saying if she can't do just one sport, she shouldn't be living her life." He put his hands on his hips, looking down at Matt. "Matt . . . please tell me that's not where your head is at regarding this injury."

Matt rapidly shook his head. "No, Kelly," he assured him. "It's not."

"Promise me," Kelly insisted, swallowing hard. "Matt, please, I need you to say it."

"I promise, Kelly," Matt leaned forward, gripping his arm tightly. "That is not where my head is at."

All the fight seemed to escape Kelly at once, and the lieutenant let out a relieved sigh, dropping back onto Matt's bunk. "Oh, thank God," he whispered, voice choked.

Matt shifted from his desk chair to the bunk next to Kelly, hesitating only a moment before adjusting his hand so it was gripping Kelly's. "I do think firefighting is my life," he admitted. "And I'm scared as hell about what the results might be . . . but there's no way that's my thought process, Kel. I give you my word, it isn't."

Kelly's relief was obvious. "I'm sorry," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It's just . . . hearing that girl talk . . . I know firefighting is important to you, Matt, but the potential results aren't just scaring you."

"You, too?" Matt asked quietly.

Kelly nodded silently. "Remember when we were asked at the game night in Austin how long we've been friends?" Matt nodded in return. "That's how long we've been in this gig together, Matt. You and me, firefighting, for that long. If – and it is still an if – this injury takes you out of the job . . . for the first time in years, that leaves me without the one constant I've had as a firefighter."

Matt gulped. "Well, I guess I really better start hoping this doesn't put me out of commission."

"You and me both, Matt," Kelly nodded grimly. "You and me both."

Matt nodded. "I'm sorry for scaring you," he whispered. "I didn't mean . . . I had no idea that might be the thought process you might take."

"Neither did I, until I heard that girl's words," Kelly admitted with a sigh, shaking his head. "She's a hell of a fighter, though. She'll pull through."

"Sounds like she is," Matt agreed.

Kelly checked his watch, shaking his head. "I gotta fill out this report before we get called out again," he said, reluctantly standing. "Remember . . . you call me when you hear from Carmen, alright?"

"Scout's honor," Matt promised, reluctantly releasing Kelly's hand.

Kelly nodded, slipping out the door. As soon as he shut it behind him, he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the glass. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered.

"Yeah, we'd kinda like to know that, too." Kelly jumped, startled, and turned to see Cruz leaning on the other side of the doorframe to his quarters, arms folded. "You know, just in case our lieutenant decides he actually is going to murder his roommate slash coworker."

"Slash who knows what else because what kind of label can even define what's going on," Capp chirped from where he leaned against the window inside Kelly's quarters.

Kelly did a double take, peeking inside to see Tony was in there, too, looking just as unimpressed as his partner. "Seriously, guys?" he asked in disbelief, looking at his crew. "What the hell is this?"

"Cruz made it pretty clear, boss," Tony shrugged. "What the hell is going on?"

"You steal the rig," Capp counted off on his fingers. "Without us, may I add."

"That was the battalion buggy," Kelly corrected.

"Yeah, you still left us at the firehouse without an officer."

"You still looked like you wanted to murder Casey for the majority of shift," Tony added.

"You come back from your conversation with him looking like you lost a war against a Cerberus or something," Cruz nodded.

"And then there was . . . " Capp made a frustrated motion. "Whatever that was before we left the call and when we came back!"

"Come on, Severide," Tony sighed. "We count on you to have our backs. We can't do the same for you if we don't know what's going on."

Kelly looked around, raising an eyebrow. Was his crew seriously guilt-tripping him into this? "Don't think that way," Cruz pointed at him angrily. "We want the best for you, boss."

"But we have decided we'll lock ourselves in here with you until you talk if you make us," Capp smiled innocently.

"Oh, geez," Kelly groaned, resigning himself to his fate and stepping into his office. "OK, so we're doing this."

"Yep!" Cruz nodded, stepping in behind him and closing the door. "Priority one: whatever's up with you and Casey."

Kelly sighed, sitting in his desk chair. "More arguments about his head injury," he muttered. "That's all."

"All of this just because of the head injury?" Capp raised an eyebrow. "Bit of an overreaction if it's just that."

"The only times you've had a reaction like this was after the mattress factory fire and San Angelo," Tony nodded. "When Brett's been in danger."

Kelly flinched, and Cruz sighed, moving from blocking the door to sitting on Kelly's bunk. "It's us, Severide," he told Kelly. "Anything you say to us, our mouths are shut, I swear."

Capp and Tony nodded, faces void of anything but seriousness. Kelly closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That call with Amber," he said slowly. "What she said about how if she couldn't play tennis, she couldn't live . . . my mind spiraled into theories."

"Casey," Cruz nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, that's where I went," Kelly gave a grim smile. "I mean, the first time he got a head injury, he was warned another hit could be a potential career-ender. So to hear that from Amber and with the other thought in mind . . . "

He trailed off, and Capp shook his head. "Casey seems to be in pretty good condition," he said. "He'll pull through this."

"That's what we're hoping to see from the MRI results," Kelly nodded. "But Casey and I have been partners in this line of work for nearly two decades now. The thought of this sidelining him forever . . . "

"A bit scary, huh?" Tony guessed.

"Try terrifying," Kelly groused.

"We've seen it happen on the job before," Tony nodded, exchanging looks with Capp. "But that's usually with firefighters in way worse condition than Casey, Lieutenant. We'll get him back."

"Casey's tougher than all those old geezers, anyway," Capp added.

Kelly couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Geezers?" Cruz repeated incredulously. "Really, Capp?"

"It cheered him up, didn't it?" Capp gestured to Kelly.

"It did," Kelly admitted with a grin. "Thanks, Capp."

"Here to help any way I'm needed, boss," Capp leaned back with a satisfied smile.

"That goes for me, too, Lieutenant," Tony nodded. "And for Casey, too, if he needs it."

"We've got your back, boss," Cruz smirked. "And we aren't kidding about burying bodies or providing alibis, should they be needed."

"I didn't think you were," Kelly chuckled.

"Now," Capp leaned forward. "That does include Casey, should he do something really stupid."

Kelly blinked. "Like what?"

He got three blank stares in reply. "Is he serious?" Capp looked around.

"Yeah, I think he's serious," Tony nodded.

Cruz just sighed and facepalmed. "Boss . . . how do I put this without sounding insensitive?"

Kelly frowned. "You two can pitch in any time."

"OK," Capp shrugged. "We got eyes, boss. Is it Casey or Brett or both or neither?"

Kelly choked on air, and Cruz scowled. "You couldn't have put it forward a little more gently?"

"Or would he have deflected?" Capp countered.

"Didn't realize we were transitioning to gossip about nonexistent love lives," Kelly coughed, turning to grab his water bottle from his desk.

"Mine's existent," Cruz raised his hand. "But I'm also married and expecting a kid, so . . . "

Kelly turned expectantly to Capp and Tony, and while both men looked a little apologetic about springing that on Kelly, neither backed down from the silent question. "We have our worries," Tony began.

"About Casey and Brett?" Kelly asked incredulously.

"We didn't say either of them," Capp said darkly. "Let's just say . . . we know there have been people who have been more than willing to ignore who you're close to if it means they get a shot at you."

Kelly looked at Cruz in bewilderment, who chewed his lip. "Lieutenant . . . Kidd didn't even try to ask Capp and I to help her out earlier," he said. "She did see us there, but she didn't ask before she turned around and went right to you."

For a few seconds, Kelly didn't react. He finally sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought I've made it pretty clear that I haven't been interested," he muttered. "And I haven't for over a year." He looked around his crew, then took a deep breath. "Not since I realized I was in love with Sylvie, then Matt."

"It's been pretty obvious to us," Cruz nodded, gesturing between himself and the two other Squad members. "Might be time to make sure she definitely knows."

"Yeah, I'll do that after I help her run through the exercises in a few days," Kelly checked his watch. "I already had to raincheck it once, so no getting out of it this time."

"And Lieutenant?" Kelly looked up at Capp's voice. "Thanks for trusting us," the man smiled.

"Like we said," Tony mimed turning a key. "Mouths are shut."

Kelly smiled in relief. "Thanks, guys."

"We have your six, boss," Cruz nodded as he stood. "Always will."

Kelly nodded, standing to walk out the door when Gallo suddenly shot by like a rocket. "Chief!" he shouted. "Chief! He's coming back!" Kelly poked his head out of his office, aware his crew was doing it behind him, and even Pelham left the room he was using to write reports to see what was going on. "The truck guy," Gallo panted in explanation, looking at Boden.

The stormy look on Boden's face was one Kelly never wanted to be on the wrong side of, and Capp grinned. "I'm watching this," he decided, following behind Boden with Cruz and Gallo.

Kelly looked at Matt in bewilderment. "What's that about?" he asked.

"Something about a truck being parked in the Chief's spot?" Pelham shrugged.

Matt blinked. "The Chief has his own parking spot?"

***

"What the hell's going on?" the repair shop owner sputtered as NYPD swarmed.

"Why don't you tell us?" Kat folded her arms, glaring nastily at him. "Sacha Lenski was killed."

The owner huffed. "That's a damn shame."

"Who paid him to blow up that car?" Nick demanded.

"Wish I knew," the owner shook his head angrily. "He was a good kid."

Fin huffed, turning around. "OK, check every VIN number on every part in this place!" he barked, pulling out his phone when it rang.

"How the hell do we sleep at night knowing this happened to one of our own?" Amanda whispered, looking at Sonny in horror.

"I don't know about you, but I'm keeping my gun under my pillow tonight," Sonny murmured in reply.

"What?"

Fin's outraged demand made the four officers with him turn around. "What was that for?" Kat frowned.

***

"I appreciate how close you are to this," Garland told Olivia.

"And I can be objective," Olivia nodded. "And Stabler knows not to go anywhere near this."

Garland shook his head. "I'm sorry . . . SVU has been called off."

Olivia balked, staring at Garland as he stood from his desk. "Chief, we've come this far!" she stammered. "We know all the players!"

"Intelligence is taking over," Garland told her. "Get them up to speed."

Olivia shook her head stubbornly. Elliot had been counting on her team to find Kathy's killer! "This is our case!" she argued.

"Not as of now," Garland shook his head in return. "You need to stand down, Captain."

***

Elliot's prayers in the hospital chapel were interrupted when he heard the doors open. He twisted in the pew to see Owen hold the door open, and Kathleen and Dickie burst into the chapel, eyes red and tear tracks on their faces. "Dad?" Kathleen whimpered.

Elliot rapidly stood and held out his arms, tucking his children close as they sobbed, burying their faces into his shoulders. Owen ducked his head, averting his gaze so he didn't intrude on a private moment. He looked up when hesitant footsteps approached, and he saw Olivia approach, a somber look on her face. "What happened?" he asked.

Olivia swallowed. "Intelligence is taking the case," she whispered. "SVU's been booted off."

Owen closed his eyes. "Damn it."

Olivia nodded, turning towards the chapel to see Elliot with his kids, feeling her heart break because she couldn't help them further.

***

"I hate five-alarm fires," Mateo grumbled as he flopped onto his bunk.

"How long were we out there?" Marjan checked her watch. "Four hours? Five?"

"I coulda sworn it was even longer than that," Judd shook his head, finishing drying his hair with his towel. "More like eight."

"Silo fires are awful," Paul declared, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Let's never do that again."

"I've dealt with two more than I ever want to deal with in my life," Judd snorted, sitting on his bunk. "I have never agreed with anything more."

"When's EMS supposed to get back?" Mateo asked, looking around the room.

"I think I saw them pulling up when I came up here," Paul shrugged. "Captain Vega looked like she was on the phone."

"They were hauling a lot of victims to the hospital," Marjan whistled. "We're just lucky everyone came out relatively unharmed."

Paul nodded in agreement, then waved as Tommy and Nancy appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey, y'all! Ready to sleep for God knows how long?"

Judd, however, paused when he saw how shaken Nancy looked, and the grave look on Tommy's face as she continued to speak quietly into her phone. "Nancy?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Um," Nancy swallowed hard. "It's gonna be a few more days until Squad gets back."

"What?" Mateo sat up, blinking in surprise. "Why? Did a flight get delayed or something?"

Judd looked towards Tommy, seeing her bow her head and nod. "I think we're all gonna wish it was something like that, Probie."

"Thank you, Captain," Tommy finally said, louder for everyone to hear. "And please give Detective Stabler our condolences on his loss."

Paul's eyes widened, and Marjan covered her mouth in horror. As Tommy turned back towards them, Judd whispered, "T?"

"While her cardiac arrest was stabilized, Kathy Stabler's spleen ruptured and she had to be rushed to surgery," Tommy explained as she joined Nancy, who was hugging herself tightly. "And they couldn't save her."

Marjan murmured a prayer under her breath, and Mateo made the sign of the cross. "Oh, my God," Paul mumbled, burying his face in his hands.

"Anything we can do for them?" Judd asked, looking around. "I mean, we can't leave the shift completely empty, but . . . does Stabler need anything?"

"No, not that Owen said," Tommy shook her head. "The funeral's taking place the day after tomorrow, and they're coming home the next day. I asked if they wanted their formal uniforms sent, but Owen said it wasn't necessary."

Judd nodded, chewing on his lip. "Damn."

"Wish we could be there," Nancy sighed, sinking to sit on her bunk. "Stabler could probably use all the support he could get."

"He's back in New York with the NYPD," Tommy pointed out. "If everyone's as tightly knit there as Owen, TK, and Captain Benson kept saying . . . I think he's in pretty good hands."

***

Sylvie had seen this story before. Hell, she'd been part of this story before, and her heart broke as Elliot's kids pressed into him, their sobs, both loud and quiet, very audible in the silence of the cemetery as Kathy Stabler was buried.

She had barely known Julie before her birth mother died in childbirth, and she counted her lucky stars that Matt and Kelly had been by her sides for whatever she needed in the days, even weeks, that followed. They had even convinced Boden and Grissom to let them take a few furlough days in the immediate aftermath of Julie's death, and to that day, Sylvie swore she was never let out of sight of the men unless she was in the bathroom. They had stuck to her like glue the day of Julie's funeral, and while she knew she had gotten some very odd looks from Scott and Julie's family, she hadn't cared about them. All that had mattered was she had the support she needed, and that had been that.

She silently stood with Peter and Carlos at the edge of the ring of those who attended the funeral, watching as Olivia, Owen, TK, and Fin, those of them closest to the Stablers, paid their final respects to someone they called a friend, their family. Buck, Eddie, and Nick weren't too far away from them, and neither were Amanda, Sonny, and Kat. While the youngest members of SVU hadn't known Elliot, they had been determined to be in attendance to show their support to the former member of the squad. She had seen the dumbstruck look on Elliot's face when they all filed into the church for the funeral, which had been replaced by raw relief that had made her start crying even before the ceremony started.

Even now, as she watched the Stabler family say goodbye to Kathy one last time, she was trying to stem the tears she was shedding. Peter rubbed her back comfortingly, squeezing her arm as she leaned into his side. "Never give up that heart of yours for anything, Sylvie," he whispered. "That's what makes you so incredible."

Sylvie gave a watery smile. "I'm sure someone out there disagrees with you."

Peter shrugged. "Their loss."

Sylvie smiled, watching Owen and TK distract the kids as Olivia and Elliot ducked their heads together, talking quietly. "How do you feel about him?" he asked, looking curiously at her friend. "Elliot, him being back in New York? Considering everything you've probably heard, working with SVU . . . "

She trailed off, genuinely curious. To her relief, Peter smiled. "I was pretty pissed off the other day when it turned out Elliot had come back without a word . . . and that Owen hadn't said a word, either."

"Yeah, that's understandable," Sylvie giggled, biting her lip to keep from being too loud.

"But seeing this?" Peter gestured to the group as Olivia squeezed Elliot's arm and Owen broke away from their kids to sling his arm around Elliot's shoulders. "Seeing the camaraderie everyone raved about and wanted to witness for themselves? Despite being upset he came back without calling her, Liv is happy to have him back. And I can't find it in me to be worried or . . . jealous, I guess, about that. All I want is for her to be happy, Sylvie."

Sylvie smiled up at him. "You're a good man, Peter Stone."

Peter grinned, holding out his arm for her. "I do my best."

Sylvie threaded her arm through his. "You'll be happy to know it's working."

Their attention was caught by Elliot as the man approached, giving a grateful smile to Sylvie and a hesitant one to Peter. "I've, uh, been working on making my rounds among everyone," he gestured to those who had come with Owen and Olivia. "We don't know each other well . . . or at all . . . but thanks for being here."

"Of course," Sylvie nodded.

"Wouldn't have missed it," Peter agreed. "Anything for someone Liv cares for."

Elliot's smile was more genuine this time. "I'd honestly expected some sort of shovel talk from you."

"From me?" Peter's eyebrows raised, and Sylvie coughed to avoid laughing. "I'm pretty sure if you up and left Liv and the Strands again, the firefighters would hunt you down and burn your body. No need for me to do anything whatsoever."

Sylvie did laugh that time. "And considering TK's dating a cop . . . "

"Good point," Elliot conceded, looking at Peter. "And, uh . . . I'm sorry I was such a bastard when we first met. That's not how I wanted to meet Liv's new team."

"You had a good excuse," Peter eyed the freshly dug grave. "I'll allow it . . . once." He turned back to Elliot, narrowing his eyes. "But in all honesty, Detective . . . Liv and Noah mean the world to me. I was willing to risk my license to keep them safe from one of the criminals I prosecuted, and I nearly walked out on them because I was frightened by the lengths I proved I would go to if it meant protecting them. I promised Liv I would stay as long as I was never put in that situation again. Make no mistake, I will go to those lengths again, and willingly, if you leave her like you did ten years ago."

Sylvie leaned in close to Peter, stage-whispering so Elliot heard. "That's a shovel talk, Peter."

Elliot, however, nodded. "You have my word, Counselor. I'm not leaving. not again."

Peter tilted his head, considering him long and hard, then extended his hand. "We didn't start off on the right foot. Peter Stone, the Assistant District Attorney attached to SVU."

Elliot smiled, shaking his hand. "Elliot Stabler, Detective 1st Grade, current NYPD liaison in Rome."

***

If there was one thing Sylvie learned from her friends in New York (and Owen and TK), it was that for firefighters or police officers or medical professionals, Forlini's was the bar of choice among first responders. Sonny and Amanda, in particular, enjoyed the food, but Owen swore by the bar's choice of drinks to serve. When Elliot had searched for a last-minute venue for a reception following Kathy's funeral, the owners of Forlini's had opened their doors, and back room, for all who wanted to gather to remember the late wife of a respected NYPD detective.

There was no way Sylvie was going to keep straight any of the officers or firefighters Owen introduced her to, and eventually she made her way to the edge of the room, content to watch the proceedings. Owen and TK were still in the thick of visitors, TK talking animatedly with a small group, Carlos doing a very good job of not looking overwhelmed as he stayed with his boyfriend. Buck and Eddie had been debating rescues with members of the 252 who came, and Owen was in his element as he entertained friends from both FDNY and NYPD.

God, I need a drink.

She slipped out of the room and headed for the bar, peeling off the cardigan she wore over her dress. Her phone chirped, and she checked to see who texted her.

Kelly: How're you doing?

Sylvie smiled, quickly texting back.

Sylvie: A little tired, but that's expected

Sylvie: I always thought it was overexaggerated how big of a deal Owen is in New York

Sylvie: Now I think everyone's underexaggerating how big a deal he is

Kelly: That impressive, huh?

Sylvie: Let's put it this way

Sylvie: TK Strand, social butterfly, looks to be tiring a little

Sylvie: Still going strong though

Sylvie: Then there's Owen who's still going like he's that energizer bunny

Kelly: Kudos to him

Kelly: Stay safe, alright?

Sylvie: Always am

She looked up when she reached the bar, and she smiled at the bartender. "A glass of your best rosé, please," she requested.

"Right away, Captain," the bartender nodded, moving towards the bottles.

"Rosé?" Sylvie stiffened at the slurred voice, and she turned to see an admittedly good-looking man in jeans and a Henley looking her up and down appraisingly, beer bottle in his hand. "Nah, girl," he shook his head. "You need something stronger than that."

"The wine is just fine, sir," Sylvie shook her head.

"No, I insist," he shook his head, waving jaggedly for the bartender. "Give her something stronger. I'll even pay for it."

"No," Sylvie denied when the bartender looked at her for confirmation. "Just the wine. I don't want anything to do with this guy."

"Come on, girl," the man leered, reaching out for her arm, ignoring her recoil. "What's the harm in one drink?"

"Because in that room behind her are no fewer than a dozen cops with NYPD," a cold, albeit familiar voice said behind them, and Sylvie froze. "And if you put one hand on the captain, I will call them over to haul your ass out of here."

The man turned and came face to face with Nolan Price, the attorney once again dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, his arms folded as he stared down the man. "Excuse me?" he sputtered.

"This is Forlini's, you idiot," Nolan smirked, not intimidated in the slightest. "This is the bar for first responders. I can start naming the officers I know that are in the other room, if you'd like. Including those from the Special Victims Unit . . . who will be glad to throw out someone trying to touch a paramedic without her permission." The man blinked dumbly, and Nolan's eyes narrowed to slits. "Scram."

The man scrambled away from the bar, and the bartender looked at Sylvie with wide eyes. "I'm so sorry, Captain – "

"Don't worry about it," Sylvie shook her head, waving him off. "That's not the first time I've been harassed at a bar, I doubt it'll be the last." She sighed, turning to Nolan. "Thank you, Counselor."

Nolan raised an eyebrow, then grinned. "Glad to be of help again . . . Captain."

Sylvie wrinkled her nose. "We agreed to call each other by first names, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," Nolan chuckled.

"Well, then thank you, Nolan," Sylvie smiled, then nodded when her wine was set in front of her. "And thank you, too."

"You're welcome," the bartender nodded. "Your usual, Mr. Price?"

"Please," Nolan nodded, sitting on the vacated stool. "I need it. Badly."

The bartender nodded. "We saw the news."

"Of course you did," Nolan muttered derisively, then gave Sylvie a pleasant smile and gestured to the stool next to him. "I didn't expect to run into you again after the hospital. How're you feeling? Your head?"

"Much better, thank you," Sylvie nodded, sitting and taking a sip of her wine. "I really needed that sleep. But, uh . . . " She looked back towards the reception with a sigh. "I apologize if none of us are good company today."

Nolan looked past her to the back, and she saw when he put two and two together to make four. "The detective's wife in the hospital," he murmured, eyes widening. "She didn't . . . ?" Sylvie silently shook her head, and Nolan closed his eyes. "Oh, my God."

"Ruptured spleen," she explained. "She died in surgery."

"Oh, no," Nolan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Have they at least found whoever did this?"

"They did," Sylvie snorted. "And then he was murdered in prison and made to look like an overdose."

Nolan scowled. "That's awful." He nodded as the bartender placed a tumbler of bourbon in front of him. "Here's to hoping they find the overall culprit."

"I will drink to that," Sylvie nodded, offering her glass. Nolan smiled dryly and clinked his tumbler against it, then both drank at the same time. "So what happened to bring you in here?" she asked. "I know the bartender said something was on the news, but . . . I haven't been around a TV for most of the day."

Nolan grimaced. "You really want to hear?"

Sylvie glanced over her shoulder at the reception. "I could use a distraction. I was getting a little overwhelmed back there."

Nolan sighed, swirling his drink around in its glass. "Well . . . I got news today that the police found evidence that would have exonerated one of my clients."

Sylvie blinked. "That's . . . that's good, right?" she asked tentatively.

Nolan gave her a strained smile. "If it had been found five or six months earlier, yes . . . back when my client was still alive and not beaten to death in a prison yard."

Sylvie blanched. "What?"

Nolan nodded grimly. "19 years old, arrested for aggravated rape. He didn't do it, but during interrogation, the police told him they had videotape, DNA, fingerprints, two witnesses. He would get six months if he confessed, or life if he didn't."

Sylvie swallowed hard; suddenly, she felt as though she needed the entire bottle of wine. "And so he confessed to a rape he didn't commit."

Nolan nodded. "I tried to get the confession suppressed, but the judge denied the motion. We went to trial, lost, and he was sentenced to fourteen years."

Sylvie shook her head, saying the only thing that summed up her thoughts. "Holy shit."

"That's definitely one way to put it," Nolan scoffed. "And by the time I put in an appeal, he was already dead."

Sylvie buried her face in her hands. "That is awful."

"I know," Nolan nodded. "And of course, I get this news right after I get an acquittal for a stone-cold killer."

Sylvie stared at him in shock, her jaw hanging open. "You're kidding me."

Nolan snorted. "I really wish I was. Big win for a defense attorney, right? Supposed to feel good?" Sylvie nodded, unable to speak, and Nolan shook his head. "I feel anything but that." He frowned at the glass in his hand. "I might need the whole bottle."

Sylvie sighed, looking at her glass. "I might help you drink it."

Nolan smirked. "I wouldn't say no."

"Screw it," Sylvie decided, downing the rest of her drink. "Split the cost?"

"Sounds good," Nolan nodded, getting the bartender's attention. "We'll take the bottle, split it between us."

"Yes, sir," the bartender nodded, turning around.

Nolan sighed heavily, turning back to Sylvie. "Fun day for both of us, then."

"Well, I didn't go through what I did alone," Sylvie inclined her head to the back.

Nolan smiled bitterly. "Lucky you."

Sylvie nodded, pushing aside her glass when the bartender returned with the bottle and an extra tumbler for her. "Thanks," she told him, then poured herself a glass. "So . . . what's next for you?"

Nolan sighed, refilling his glass, too. "I take a good, long, hard look at which side of the court I want to be on."

Sylvie raised an eyebrow. "Defense or prosecution?"

Nolan nodded. "I'm a damn good defense attorney, I know it. But considering who I helped walk free . . . I can't do a case like that again." He paused, then shook his head. "No, I won't do a case like that again."

Sylvie smiled. "Sounds like you made your decision, then." Nolan nodded in agreement, then Sylvie swiveled on her stool, looking back towards the reception. "You know . . . if you need someone to give you a recommendation . . . "

Nolan frowned. "No offense, but how does a paramedic have any pull for that?"

"None taken," Sylvie waved it off. "And you're right, a paramedic really doesn't have that kind of pull. Not in an office, at least." She smiled, focusing on the man who had just joined Olivia, the police captain leaning into his side for comfort. "But a person, on the other hand . . . "

***

"Here's my question," TK announced as the group left Forlini's that evening after the reception concluded. "How did Sylvie Brett, wine lover extraordinaire, end up drinking more than any of you?"

"Because I drank something other than wine or champagne, dumbass," Sylvie rolled her eyes, her arm again threaded through Peter's, the lawyer snickering at her words. "Forlini's has some really good bourbon."

"I'd drink to that if I had a glass in my hand," Fin nodded in agreement.

"Don't you have Phoebe to get back to, Sarge?" Sonny grinned.

"Oh, who now?" Nick perked up, looking at Fin attentively.

"Carisi!" Fin glared at Sonny, who was laughing along with Amanda.

"Wasn't that the name of one of the Vice Squad sergeants?" Owen tilted his head thoughtfully from where he walked with TK and Carlos.

"Got it in one," Olivia grinned. "Also known as Fin's fiancée."

"Whoa, really?" TK whirled around, smiling widely. "Congrats, Fin!"

"An appropriate reaction," Fin nodded approvingly, making Kat snort. "Thank you, TK."

"Hey, as long as everyone's happy, I'm happy," Owen held up his hands.

"Case in point, the 126!" Buck declared, making Eddie laugh.

"Yes, it would be very nice if everyone's happy in my firehouse," Owen nodded.

"I haven't heard any complaints," Sylvie smiled prettily.

Owen sighed. "Yay."

"Sound a little more enthusiastic, would you, Owen?" Elliot smirked over Eli's head.

Kathleen and Dickie guffawed, and Owen scowled at his friend. "You suck, Elliot."

"Do not make me get between you two again already," Olivia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Not in front of the kids."

"Thanks, Olivia," Dickie snorted.

Olivia smirked. "I meant the other kids."

Buck, TK, Sylvie, Amanda, Sonny, and Nick immediately erupted in protests, causing Carlos and Eddie to laugh hysterically. "Oh, that is so true!" Carlos choked.

Elliot shook his head, grinning as he took in all the voice clamoring at once. "I could get used to it."

"You better," Peter warned. "You're stuck with them now."

Elliot smiled, ruffling Eli's hair. "Good."

Sylvie caught sight of the hotel, then gently tugged on Peter's arm. "Can we talk for a moment?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, sure," Peter nodded, guiding her off to the side of the path. "What's up? Something wrong?"

"No," Sylvie shook her head. "Well . . . not with me." Peter raised an eyebrow, and she bit her lip. "I assume you know the name Nolan Price?"

Peter stopped in his tracks, staring at her in shock. "Is there something I need to know about what you did while you were here in New York?"

Sylvie burst out laughing. "No!" she patted his arm, still giggling. "No, I don't need a defense attorney or something like that."

"Oh, good," Peter sighed in relief, returning to leading her along the side of the path. "Though if you did, Price would be the one to get. The thought that I might face him in court is scary. That man has a record as close to perfect as a defense attorney can get."

Sylvie looked at Peter incredulously. "Really?" She had heard Olivia say he was good, and Nolan himself knew he was. To hear Peter put to words just how good he was?

"Really," Peter nodded. "Honestly, I know people in the DA's office who would rather swallow nails than face Price in court." Sylvie looked at Peter in horror, and he hastened to assure her, "I'm never swallowing nails, but yeah, I'd prefer never to face him."

Sylvie hummed thoughtfully, nodding as they walked. "What if that never becomes a possibility?" she asked.

Peter blinked. "He's a defense attorney, Sylvie. It's a possibility."

"Yeah," Sylvie looked up at him. "As long as he is a defense attorney."

Peter looked down at her suspiciously. "What are you getting at, Sylvie?"

She sighed. "Did Olivia tell you that Nolan was the one who stopped me from passing out at the coffee shop?"

"And brought you back to the hospital?" Peter's eyebrows raised. "No, she didn't. All the rest of us heard was that it was one of the defense attorneys. It was Price?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "And he was at Forlini's earlier, too. When I had to take a break from everything, I sat and chatted with him." She paused. "After he stopped some drunk idiot from trying to buy me a drink."

Peter frowned. "Apparently, I owe him a thank you."

"Well, I can give you an idea of how to do so," Sylvie smiled innocently up at him.

Peter groaned. "That either means I'm going to love your idea or hate it."

"Considering everything you've just told me in the past minute or so, you're going to love it. Trust me."

"Alright," Peter braced himself. "Hit me."

Sylvie grinned. "He's decided to switch from defense to prosecution."

Peter did a double take, head whipping around to look at her. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," Sylvie shook her head.

"No, seriously, Sylvie," Peter stopped her in her tracks. "You're being serious?"

"Very," Sylvie nodded. "He had a hell of a sucker punch yesterday . . . two, actually. He made it clear he doesn't want to be on the defense side of court any longer."

Peter swallowed. "Sylvie . . . the DA's office has talked about finding some way to poach him for years. You're basically giving him to us on a silver platter."

Sylvie's eyes brightened. "You mean you can get him in somewhere?"

"Oh, believe me," Peter looked up as they arrived at the hotel. "I'm jumping on that as soon as you walk inside."

"What're you jumping on?" Sonny appeared, looking at Peter curiously.

"Something at the DA's office," Peter answered easily. "What time are you flying out tomorrow?"

"Flight leaves at 2:25," Owen answered. "So we'll hit the airport about noon."

"Copy that," Olivia nodded.

"Thanks again for coming," Elliot looked around gratefully at those from Austin. "It means more than you know."

"We do what we can for family," TK smiled, giving him a bear hug.

Elliot sighed. "Thank God for you, kid."

"I do that every day," Owen smiled fondly.

"Rest up," Olivia smiled at them. "And get rid of any hangovers, if you've got them."

"Considering Sylvie binged bourbon, apparently," Buck smirked at her.

Sylvie scowled, reaching up and smacking him on the back of the head. "Shut up."

Eddie laughed and waved. "Good night!"

The New York crew all returned their waves, and Nick sighed. "And now I'm glad I'm on Benson's couch."

Peter snorted. "You're just there for Noah."

"Come on, he's grown so much! He was a baby the last time I saw him!"

Peter shook his head, watching the rest of his family gather around each other to talk as they returned to their vehicles. As they walked, he pulled out his phone and dialed one of the first numbers in his contact list. He expected voicemail, and when the beep sounded, he started to talk. "It's Stone. I know it's late to be calling, but one of my best friends told me something before I dropped her off at her hotel. You're not going to believe this."

***

"Thanks again for this, Kelly," Stella smiled as the replaced the equipment on the squad rig.

"No problem," Kelly nodded, checking to make sure all the compartments were properly closed. "Happy to help with the exam prep."

He gave her a pointed look, and Stella gave a timid smile. "I guess that means I can't tempt you with breakfast?" she asked.

Kelly stopped in his tracks, blinking at the suddenness of it. Now he was glad for his crew's warning . . . he would have been completely blindsided otherwise. "Stella," he began.

His phone suddenly blared, and he looked down, relieved by the momentary distraction. That relief turned to a flare of panic when he saw the Caller ID. He swallowed, turning his back on Stella and answering. "Hey," he swallowed. "What's up?"

"I got the call," Matt told him. "They want me in to discuss the results as soon as possible. I know you said you had training with Kidd after shift – "

"And I can be over there in twenty minutes," Kelly cut him off. "I'm in this until the end, I told you that."

"You did," Matt conceded. "Alright. I'll meet you there."

"Copy." Kelly hung up his phone, turning back to Stella. "Thank you for the offer, Stella, but I have to say no. It would've been my answer even before this."

Stella's expression was unreadable, but she nodded once. Kelly pulled out his keys, heading right for his car when she spoke. "That's why you had to cancel last time, wasn't it?"

Kelly blinked, turning around. "Excuse me?"

"When you canceled on me Friday, it was because of Casey, wasn't it?" Stella asked.

Anger flared in Kelly, and he scowled. "You know what? Yes, I did," he nodded. "Because I promised him I would help him get through all of this, so when he had the emergency appointment, yes, I put that first. I am sorry I canceled on you then, but suddenly I'm not feeling so apologetic if that's how you're gonna take me being there for not just my best friend, but also your captain."

Stella flushed. "That's not what I'm upset about, Kelly!"

"Then be upfront about it, Kidd!" Kelly snapped. "And do it now, because I've got somewhere to be."

Stella's face twisted, and . . . oh, Kelly did not like that look. "And it's Casey again, isn't it?" she asked in annoyance.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" Kelly asked in exasperation. "You know he's been waiting for his results! This could determine if he stays a firefighter or not, for God's sake! There's no way I'm not going to support him! And this has been set before I even knew we were doing this today! If you're gonna be pissed about me rescheduling for Matt, then you can't be upset about this." He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. "Look, Stella . . . if I've been leading you on in any shape or form, I haven't meant to at all. I haven't thought of you like that in over a year."

Her eyes widened in realization, and her jaw dropped. "Casey," she breathed in disbelief. "You're in love with Casey?"

Kelly gritted his teeth. "Believe it or not, it's actually a recent realization," he bit out. "But I'm pretty sure I've been in love with him before we even graduated the academy. So if you have a problem with that, here's what you need to know . . . once I knew I love him? You never stood a chance." Stella recoiled, hurt in her eyes, and Kelly took a deep breath. "Again, if I ever gave you an indication that I wanted to get back with you, I apologize," he said. "But if you've been asking me to help prep for your exam to try and go out with me again . . . I'm sorry. That's never going to happen again."

Stella's mouth hung open, but she seemed unable to speak. Kelly left her standing there on the apron, and he climbed into his car. He had results to hear.

***

Matt looked up from his phone when he heard the door open, and a nurse gestured for Kelly to step inside the office. "Hey," Kelly gave a strained smile, his jacket over his arm as he walked over. "Sorry, I had a longer drive than I expected. Have you heard anything yet?"

"Nothing," Matt shook his head. "Nurse seemed serious when I gave her my name. Brought me right in."

Kelly sighed, pulling up one of the other chairs to sit next to Matt. "Fingers crossed that it's nothing."

Matt nodded eagerly, and they turned when the door opened. The same doctor who conducted Matt's initial exam entered the room, tablet held in his hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologized, sitting at the desk across from them. "Matt, in the accident where you hit your head, which side of your body did you fall on?"

Out of everything that could have been said first, that was not what Matt anticipated. Kelly looked just as surprised, then he turned to Matt expectantly. "Uh . . . " Matt hastened to recall, then held up his left hand. "My left."

The doctor hummed, nodding as he examined what he had on the tablet. "And did you have any shoulder pain afterwards?"

Kelly looked just as confused by this line of questioning as Matt felt. "Uh . . . yeah," he said slowly. "But it's mostly gone."

The doctor nodded, looking satisfied. "Makes sense now," he said. "The weakness on your left side is most likely due to the shoulder injury you're recovering from, not from an injury to the brain." Matt blinked, trying to understand what the doctor meant. The other man gave a small smirk, turning his tablet around to reveal the scans . . . which, to Matt's untrained eye, looked completely normal. "Your MRI is clean," the doctor announced.

Matt's jaw dropped in shock, not having expected that at all. "How does that explain the headaches?" Kelly asked, looking rapidly between Matt and the doctor. "The tunnel vision?"

"Most likely caused by post-concussion migraines," the doctor deduced. "It's common with a head injury like yours. It'll go away on its own. In the meantime, we'll get you some migraine medication to manage it."

Matt blinked rapidly, then shook his head in disbelief. "So I'm . . . I'm clear to work?" he asked, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. It couldn't be that simple . . . could it?

The doctor, however, nodded. "Absolutely," he confirmed as he stood. "I'll talk to Jenny out front, and she'll have your prescription ready for you." He paused, then gave the stunned men a smile. "It's always nice to deliver good news."

He departed through the door he came through, and Matt slowly stood, staring at Kelly, still trying to wrap his head around this diagnosis. Kelly, apparently, had no such problem, as he burst into joyful laughter. "Matt, you're OK!" he grinned widely.

All of the stress and anxiety and fear that had bundled up in Matt was released in one quick breath, and Matt joined Kelly in laughing, pulling his best friend in for a hug. Kelly hugged him back just as tightly, both men reveling in the relief that not only was Matt cleared for duty . . . he was, in fact, relatively unscathed.

***

"So, in the spirit of our renewal of vows the other day at the hospital . . . "

Elliot spat out the coffee he'd been drinking back into its cup, and Olivia tripped over her feet at Owen's words. "What?" both asked at the same time, Elliot choking and trying to regain his breath.

"You good, Detective?" Nick looked over his shoulder curiously.

"Yeah!" Elliot coughed, giving a thumbs up. "Just . . . swallowed wrong."

"What the hell, Owen?" Olivia glared.

"Sorry," Owen grinned sheepishly. "But really, since we promised not to shut each other out again . . . "

"Alright, I'll bite," Elliot finally got his breath back, and he cleared his throat, looking at Owen. "What's up?"

"And please, if it has to do with the cancer, out with it right away and don't try and prolong it," Olivia added.

Owen nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "When we get back to Austin, I'm scheduling the surgery to cut out the rest of the cancer."

Both cops' eyes widened in excitement. "You are?" Elliot grinned.

"Owen!" Olivia cheered, tugging him in for a hug. "Oh, that's amazing!"

"And they think they can get it all?" Elliot demanded.

"That's what they're hoping for," Owen nodded. "So hopefully I can get it scheduled in about a week."

"Good," Elliot grinned, clapping Owen on the back. "The sooner that crap is out of you, the better."

Owen nodded. "Now all I need to worry about is who's gonna run the house while I'm out."

"Judd seemed like he could do it," Olivia remarked. "And I know you've trained TK well enough that he could run Squad."

Owen smiled uneasily. "Judd would make an excellent captain one day, but he's told me himself he's not ready for it yet, not even the lieutenant's exam. And TK has already voiced he'd rather have another leader on Squad while I'm out. He hasn't had the experience to call the shots yet, and he'd rather do it with me supervising."

"You can't fit that in before your surgery?" Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"Not unless we get a boatload of a variety of calls," Owen shook his head. "When I prepped to take over a Squad rig, I had shift after shift after shift of experience. Squad is the jack of all trades crew – there's so many types of calls that it's still difficult to call the shots on some calls. TK doesn't think the time between now and my surgery is enough for him to feel comfortable enough to lead."

Olivia hummed in understanding. "Makes sense."

"Too bad you can't snag Casey and Severide," Elliot snickered, taking a sip of his coffee.

Owen, however, looked thoughtful. "Yeah . . . too bad."

"Dad!" TK called from ahead. "We found the gate!"

Owen nodded, turning to Olivia and Elliot. "You two will be good?" he asked.

"We aren't toddlers, Owen," Olivia snorted.

Owen sighed. "You know what I mean."

Olivia bit her lip, looking down at her feet. "Yeah," Elliot was the one who spoke as he nodded. "We'll be good, Owen."

"You better be," Owen warned. "Because if this doesn't work – "

"Owen," Olivia's voice broke.

"I said if, Liv," Owen said gently. "If it doesn't work, and the cancer grows . . . who knows if I'll get this lucky again?"

"You're a tough son of a bitch, Owen," Elliot shook his head. "You'd beat it again."

Owen gave a strained smile. "Then let's hope it doesn't happen."

"It better not," Olivia huffed, stepping forward and engulfing him in a hug.

Owen hugged her back, whispering in her ear. "Be stubborn with him if you have to."

He felt her smirk. "Copy that."

Owen nodded, kissing her temple before moving to Elliot. "Good luck," he wished him.

"Thanks, brother," Elliot nodded, hugging Owen tightly. "Same to you with the surgery."

Owen nodded. "Hopefully it'll be done and over before I know it."

Elliot grinned. "Kick what's left of your cancer in the ass. Got it?"

Owen laughed, giving a two-finger salute. "Yes, sir."

He walked to join Buck, TK, Sylvie, Eddie, and Carlos, the five clustered together to get to security. "Stay travels, Captain," Peter smiled, the only other person from SVU who could manage to get away from the office to say goodbye.

"Thanks, Stone," Owen nodded, shaking his hand. He gave Olivia and Elliot a furtive look, then lowered his voice. "Feel free to call me if those two need straightening."

Peter snickered. "You got it."

Owen nodded, then walked over to the others. "Ready?" he asked.

"We were waiting on you, Cap," Buck grinned.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Brat."

Sylvie giggled, skipping in front of them. "Come on, we can't miss this!"

Owen nodded, and the group turned and waved. Olivia, Elliot, and Peter waved in return, watching the six disappear into the security lines. "Man," Elliot sighed. "I know why they moved to Austin, but I sure wish the Strands were still here in New York."

Olivia snorted quietly. "Pranks in the office stopped once TK moved. Take that how you will."

Elliot grinned. "So . . . jelly in the desk?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I should suspend Carisi just for bringing that up."

"Was it really that bad in the office?" Peter asked in surprise.

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Everyone was scared to go through their desks for weeks . . . and that was before we heard the 252 suddenly had peanut butter-filled lockers. And when I say peanut butter, I don't mean jars."

Elliot laughed loudly, shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee. "I love that kid."

Peter whistled, impressed, pulling his phone from his pocket when it rang. "You sure he and Amaro didn't do anything while they were here?"

Olivia smirked. "I sent Kat to check every inch of the precinct when I came here."

Elliot paused. "Did you check in with the 252?"

"They're clean."

"Oh, good."

"Stone," Peter answered his phone, then paused. "Yes, sir, I checked again on my way to drop her off." Olivia and Elliot watched him curiously, then saw Peter grin and nod. "Yes, sir. I'll be there. Thanks."

"What's going on?" Olivia tilted her head.

"I know I said I'd be off at a certain time tonight, but I need to push dinner back a little later," Peter said apologetically. "I'm needed at the courthouse after I get off."

Olivia nodded understandingly. "No problem."

"Is everything good?" Elliot asked worriedly.

He was taken aback by Peter's grin. "We're going fishing."

***

Matt took an instinctive step back at the roar of cheers when he walked out onto Molly's patio that evening. "There's the man of the hour!" Grainger grinned from his table with Pelham and Hawkins, the other officers beaming at him.

"First round for 51 is on the house!" Herrmann bellowed. "We get our captain back, y'all!"

Matt grinned bashfully, waving the cheering firefighters down. "Thanks, everyone," he told them. "I'm excited to get back to work."

"And here I was, hoping I'd get that spot for good," Pelham sighed dramatically.

"There, there," Hawkins patted his back, smothering a grin. "You'll find your permanent post eventually."

"Key word eventually," Grainger grinned around the mouth of his beer bottle.

Pelham scowled. "I will smash this bottle over your head."

"And make me end up like Casey?"

"Hey, now," Matt snorted. "I met the wrong end of tarmac, not a beer bottle. No promises on you turning out like me, buddy."

Grainger held up his hands placatingly. "Heard, Captain."

"Here, Captain," Herrmann appeared at the table, handing over a beer bottle. "Your rounds are on the house tonight."

"Oh, Herrmann, please," Matt tried to beg off.

"Hey," Herrmann put a hand on his shoulder. "We don't joke around with head injuries. The fact you got off basically unscathed this time? Practically a miracle. Don't argue. You won't win."

Matt smiled. "Thanks, Herrmann."

Herrmann nodded, looking at the table. "The three of you are included in that first round, too."

"Oh," Hawkins blinked, sitting up straight and looking between the startled lieutenants. "You don't have to do that, Lieutenant. We aren't even stationed at 51."

"No, but you've helped us out in jams this past year when we needed ya," Herrmann shook his head. "Free drinks. And I own the bar, so . . . no use arguing when I'm in charge of tabs."

Hawkins sighed, and Grainger smirked. "I coulda told you that, Evan."

Hawkins shot him a nasty glare, and Pelham grinned at Matt. "I think you've rubbed off on him, Captain."

"No, you two just bring out the worst in him," Matt snickered.

Grainger snorted. "You obviously never saw what Jason and I were like at the academy."

Pelham choked on his drink. "Dude!"

Hawkins looked pleadingly at Matt. "Help."

Matt laughed, patting Hawkins' shoulder, then Herrmann perked up. "Oh, Pelham! You remember that kid who helped us at that fire?"

"The one who knew a hasty harness?" Pelham thought back. "Yeah, he seemed like a good guy. Hard to believe he wasn't a firefighter. Did you catch him again?"

"I did," Herrmann nodded. "I wanted to get him into the CFD, but considering he did some time when he was younger, that's not possible. But thanks to Kidd's connection to Deputy Commissioner Hill, he's got an interview up in St. Paul."

"Really?" Pelham brightened. "That's great!"

"Yeah," Herrmann nodded. "Wish we coulda kept him, but . . . rules."

"Ugh," Pelham made a face.

"Exactly."

"Hey, Cap!"

Matt turned, craning his neck to see who called his name, though he recognized the voice immediately. He caught sight of Cruz waving from where he sat at the bar. "I'll catch up with you three later?" he offered Grainger, Pelham, and Hawkins.

"Sure thing, Casey," Grainger nodded. "Go on."

"Thanks," Matt nodded, turning and walking over to join Cruz. "What's up?"

"Wanted to let you know we'll be glad to see you back in action," Cruz smiled. "The rest of Squad had to keep telling Severide you'd turn out alright."

Matt sighed. "And he was the one who kept encouraging me not to think the worst."

Cruz shook his head. "Severide can put up a front all he wants at 51, but his brothers know him too well for that to work. We knew you would pull through, so . . . " He raised his glass. "Thanks for not making us liars."

Matt smiled, clinking his bottle against the glass. "No problem."

"Kidd?" Herrmann's voice asked. "You look like you're trying to strangle that bottle."

Matt and Cruz turned to see Stella start and look at the bottle of wine she was restocking. "Oh," she muttered, abruptly turning her back to the group.

Herrmann frowned, shaking his head. "I coulda sworn she was glaring at you," he looked curiously at Matt before he was called to another table.

Matt blinked in surprise, then heard Cruz sigh. He turned to the Squad 2IC, frowning. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Not surprised if she's pissed," Cruz shrugged. "Severide was helping her through a few exercises to prep for her exam this morning."

"I remember," Matt nodded. "It's why he stayed after shift."

Cruz shook his head before Matt finished. "I heard her talking to Violet and Mackey before they headed inside to hear Mouch speak. She was trying to ask Severide out afterwards. He turned her down."

Matt felt his heart skip a few beats, and he swallowed, trying to work moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. "He did?"

"It's what she said," Cruz nodded. "And not even an hour later, Severide sent the message to me, Tony, and Capp that you were all clear. He turned her down to get to the hospital in time."

Matt's eyes widened. "What?"

"You haven't figured it out by now, Cap?" Cruz looked at him in disbelief. "Severide's gonna choose you every time, without even hearing any other options. I'd have told you that weeks ago if I'd known that somehow hasn't stuck in your brain."

Matt swallowed hard, looking down at the smooth top of the bar. Cruz was in the wrong there . . . he'd known since Kelly's breaking point on the pier that he was Kelly's priority. Ever since Sylvie had left for Austin, they were each other's lifelines, each other's ride or die. He knew Grissom was keeping a close eye on them because of it . . . but to hear Cruz confirm Kelly had turned down Stella just to be at the hospital for results that hadn't taken more than five minutes to hear?

He saw Stella flip her hair over her shoulder, and he gritted his teeth, finishing the rest of his beer in one go. He put the bottle on the bartop harder than necessary, then turned to Cruz. "He hasn't been here this evening, has he?" he asked.

Cruz didn't bother concealing a smirk. "Nope."

Matt nodded, taking a step back from the bar. "Then sounds like I need to be elsewhere."

"Hey, Casey?" He turned back to Cruz, who smiled and raised his glass. "We will bury you if you hurt him."

"I'd give you the shovels myself," Matt promised, meaning every word.

Cruz grinned. "Go get him, Cap."

Matt grinned in return, then passed where Herrmann was chatting with Grainger, Pelham, and Hawkins again. "Hey, raincheck on that chat?" he asked.

Grainger blinked. "Yeah, any time."

"Thanks," Matt nodded, clapping a surprised Herrmann on the shoulder. "And thanks for the drink, Herrmann!"

"Wh – Cap?" Herrmann sputtered, watching him leave. "You just got here!"

***

"You look like you just went a few rounds with a dragon."

Nolan turned at the amused voice, and he paused in his tracks when he saw Peter walking towards him. "Last I checked, I wasn't in a burning courtroom," he remarked, checking himself over.

"No, but you look exhausted," Peter shook his head. "All good, Price?"

"I've felt better," Nolan sighed, running a hand through his hair and continuing down the halls of the courthouse. "I'm beginning to think that maybe having half a bottle of bourbon last night wasn't such a good move."

"The way the house is buzzing, you had good reason to do it," Peter quipped. "How're you feeling?"

Nolan pondered his answer as he walked side by side with the SVU prosecutor. "More set in the decision I made yesterday."

Peter hummed, hands in his pockets. "I hear you've run into my best friend not once, but twice."

"Your best – " Nolan paused, looking at him in surprise. "Sylvie Brett?"

"Before I moved back here, I worked in the State Attorney's Office in Chicago," Peter nodded. "She was stationed at Firehouse 51 before she moved to Austin." He smirked. "We were drinking buddies, too."

Nolan snorted fondly. "That sounds familiar."

"Yeah, she mentioned she saw you at Forlini's," Peter nodded as they stopped in front of one of the conference rooms. "Thanks for keeping her company. She thrives in some situations with tons of people, but I don't think last night was one of them."

"Didn't look like it," Nolan shook his head. "It might have also been that it was a funeral reception." He paused, then cleared his throat. "Did you know the victim well?"

"No," Peter shook his head. "But Liv did. The victim was the wife of her former partner at SVU, back when she was still a detective."

Nolan nodded. "I didn't get to do it yesterday . . . can you pass along my condolences?"

"I will," Peter nodded, knocking on the door. "Thank you."

Nolan frowned, hearing a muffled voice tell them to enter. "Stone?"

Peter smirked, opening the door and stepping inside. "Evening, Jack."

"Good evening, Peter," the cheery voice of Jack McCoy responded, and Nolan balked, looking at Peter in surprise. "And Counselor Price! Excellent. I hoped Peter would be able to catch you before you left for the day."

"He caught me just when I was about to, actually," Nolan looked cautiously at Peter as he stepped into the room, seeing the District Attorney seated at the table, flipping through a few files. "I wasn't aware I had a meeting."

"Oh, this is rather informal, Counselor," Jack shook his head, setting his files down and peering intently at him, gesturing for them to sit. "Especially as I don't think you've made a formal announcement."

Nolan looked between the two in confusion, and Peter smirked. "Sylvie may have mentioned you were planning on switching to prosecution."

"And Peter might have passed that piece of information to me," Jack nodded. "I trust his word. I met Captain Brett only once, when she accompanied Peter to make sure he didn't spend his father's funeral alone. She leaves quite an impact."

"Yes, she does," Nolan agreed freely, swallowing hard as he took a seat, Peter following suit. "She said she didn't have that kind of pull in this office."

"Well, not when she doesn't live in New York, sure," Jack nodded. "But she is a close friend of Peter's. His best friend, I understand."

"Aside from Carisi, yes," Peter nodded. "So when she has something to say, I tend to listen. And when she said you were looking to change to prosecution . . . " He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. "I didn't see that coming. I thought she was about to say I was about to go up against you in court, and I was ready to take back what I said about swallowing nails."

Nolan blinked. "Swallowing nails?" he repeated.

"I believe Peter is referring to what many of my attorneys would rather do instead of face you," Jack smirked.

Nolan blinked, then couldn't help but laugh. "I'm flattered? I think?"

"Be flattered," Peter said dryly. "It speaks to what a great attorney you are."

"And I was just as surprised when Peter told me," Jack folded his hands, looking at Nolan. "Are you aware, Mr. Price, that I have been looking to find a way to bring you to this side for years now?"

Nolan did a double take. "Really?"

"Yes," Jack nodded. "You have an impressive record, Mr. Price, one that any team would be a fool to not want on their side. You care about your work, you are passionate about it, and those are two important characteristics I search for in my attorneys. However, I've been aware of how you value your work in the defense field. What changed your mind?"

Nolan looked uncertainly at Peter, who gave him an encouraging nod. He took a deep breath, then looked Jack in the eye. "I have no intention of helping a stone-cold killer walk again," he answered. "I would much rather be the one putting them in prison instead of getting them out."

Peter gave Jack a triumphant look, and the district attorney nodded in satisfaction. "Then perhaps today is our lucky day," the man said. "That is exactly the kind of attitude I need from an Executive ADA."

Nolan rapidly paled when the enormity of that statement hit him. "What?" he stammered, looking at Peter to see if this was some kind of joke. Based on Peter's sincere grin, it wasn't. "You're just . . . offering this to me on the spot?"

"As I said, Mr. Price, I have wanted you on this team for a long time," Jack told him. "This is not necessarily 'on the spot.' I need someone in this position to have the guts to make hard decisions. You have years of experience as a defense attorney, and you offer a perspective none of my other candidates can give. I want you playing for my team, Mr. Price. The position is yours, if you want it."

Nolan swallowed hard, still trying to comprehend all he was hearing . . . because Jack was essentially asking him to be his 2IC in the District Attorney's Office. Sylvie had said she knew someone who might be able to get his foot in the door, but he had never thought that might lead him directly to Jack, let alone the day after she told him. But he had meant what he said to her at the bar: he was done helping criminals walk.

So he took a deep breath, met Jack's eyes, and asked, "When do you want me to start?"

Jack grinned.

***

Severide's gonna choose you every time.

Matt's knuckles were white on the steering wheel of his truck as he drove through the woods, driving almost on instinct. Cruz's words rang in in his head the entire time, words Matt hadn't stopped thinking about since he left Molly's. Kelly hadn't been at the loft when he arrived, but based on what had been missing when he got there, he knew where the lieutenant was likely planning on spending the night.

Sure enough, when the lights on the road guided him to the cabin Benny left Kelly, he could see the lights inside were on, signaling an occupant. Matt parked next to Kelly's car, then hopped out of his truck, grabbing his duffel from the back. He locked the doors for good measure, wincing when the loud beep echoed in the mostly quiet woods. There was nothing he could do about that, though, and he knocked on the door of the cabin.

"Door's unlocked, Case!"

Matt swung open the door, stepping into the pleasantly warm cabin and dropping his duffel next to the door. Kelly was sitting on the sofa, beer bottle in hand, and he turned away from the crackling fire to watch him enter. "You missed a free round at Molly's," he remarked.

Kelly gave a small smile. "I wanted out of the city for the night."

"Honestly, that sounds like heaven," Matt admitted.

Kelly smiled. "Spare room's all yours, and grab one from the fridge. You're welcome here any time, Matt."

"Thanks, Kelly," Matt smiled, opening the fridge and grabbing one of the beers. "And I don't mean just for this. Setting my head straight, accompanying me to all those appointments . . . "

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Kelly nodded, watching Matt join him on the couch. "You know that by now, right?"

"I do," Matt nodded, looking at the fire. "Especially after today."

Kelly knitted his eyebrows, then realized what Matt meant, and he sighed. "You heard about Kidd."

"I asked Cruz about it when she looked like she was trying to strangle a bottle," Matt nodded, looking at him. "You turned her down to be at the hospital."

"I turned her down for good," Kelly corrected, making Matt do a double take. "It's been a hell of a long time since I've thought of her in the way she wants. It's never gonna happen. I didn't even think I gave her any reason to think it could."

"You never did," Matt shook his head. "Not since the Arnow fire."

"I didn't think so," Kelly muttered, shaking his head and taking a long pull of his beer. "And I've been upfront that all I've been doing is help her study for her exam. That's it."

"I believe you, Kelly," Matt assured him. "Though she hasn't seemed to notice."

Kelly smirked. "Any bets I might need to make it even clearer?"

Matt snorted. "I can think of a few ideas."

Kelly blinked in surprise, then looked at Matt appraisingly. "Yeah?"

That look was a classic Kelly Severide flirting method, and this time, Matt had no intention of casually brushing it off. "And if you need a volunteer . . . "

He trailed off suggestively, and Kelly's eyes lit in surprise, then they darkened into a smolder that made Matt bite his lip. "When?" the lieutenant asked simply.

Matt didn't need a clarification. "Did I know or when it happened?" he countered.

"Both."

Matt nodded, reaching over and placing his beer on the coffee table. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it during the academy," he answered, watching Kelly mirror his action. "But when you pulled me out of the firehouse to rip me apart? That was when I realized I love you, too."

Kelly laughed, shaking his head. "I should've gotten the hint when Andy kept asking you out in front of me." He turned to Matt, looking at him intently. "I knew when I saw you with Sylvie after 99 got abducted. And I had no idea what the hell to do because I was suddenly in love with two people at the same time."

"It's a hell of a curveball," Matt agreed, scooting closer. "But we know it can work. We've seen Will, Nat, and Connor."

"We have," Kelly nodded, looking at Matt. "It's a little more difficult than that, though."

Matt smothered a snort. Yeah, having Sylvie states away was an open wound that constantly got salt rubbed in it. "We have each other," he reminded Kelly. "And right now, that's all I need." He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "And for Kidd to never get her hands on you again."

Kelly gave a predatory grin. "Which leads us back to those ideas of yours . . . and we're all the way out in the middle of nowhere until next shift."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "You are a smug bastard, Kelly Severide."

"Your smug bastard."

"Damn right, you are," Matt growled, finally leaning forward and kissing him.

He knew he had made the right call when Kelly kissed him back, weeks and months of pent-up, hidden emotions allowed to surface at last. Matt wasn't sure if he moved or if Kelly moved him, but he found himself straddling the other man's legs, that position giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss. Kelly's hands on his waist tightened, and Matt knew he wasn't moving until Kelly let go. As one hand held onto Kelly's shoulder for support and the other curled around the back of Kelly's neck, Matt decided he was perfectly fine with that arrangement. There was no way he wanted to let go any time soon. This felt more right than anything had felt with Hallie or Gabby. This was where he wanted to be, who he wanted to be with.

God, he owed Cruz so many drinks the next time he went to Molly's.

***

 . . . and it only took them forty-four chapters to get to this point. I think that's enough slow burn, don't you?

That ending scene was nowhere near as wordy or feelsy as the Buddie confesion scene . . . and I didn't think it needed to be. Matt and Kelly have years of history together compared to Buck and Eddie, so much that when I went to finally write this scene, I realized it didn't need to be so dragged out. And finally, we have our Sevasey together at last.

For those of you wondering where I pulled Nolan's stories from, they are contained in a deleted scene from 21x01 that I found on YouTube. I really wish it had been included in the actual episode because it would have given us some great background on Nolan that we otherwise don't have. We have it here, though, and he's finally working under McCoy now. And boy, do I have some Plans for Law & Order when it comes up next book.

So, Owen's getting his surgery soon, and that just leaves the problem of who's gonna run the house while he's out . . . did I give you enough of a hint? XD We start to dive into "Slow Burn" (yeah, go ahead, laugh it up, right after I said that was enough "slow burn" XD) next time!

P.S. Those of you who have been wondering when Stella's reckoning comes? Sylvie will be back in Chicago before the end of the book. ;)

graphic by marvelity