AN: I know you all are probably very tired of hearing my excuses for lack of posting. And I'm sorry that it took me this long, but I've been working mandatory 12 hour shifts for the past few weeks. That meant a lot of going to work and coming home just to pass out, sometimes in front of the computer with this chapter up. I also wanted to make sure that this chapter flowed properly since it is the last one for this story. That being said, I do have a sequel in the works.

I also wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who took the time to favorite, follow, and especially review this story. You make writing that much more pleasurable, and you have all touched my life in ways that you will never know. Thank you for your amazing support.

As always, a massive thanks to my beta AliceBB. Without her patience and voice of reason, this fic would be a lot worse.

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

Dawson sighed as she opened the car door. According to her doctor, her ribs were healing nicely and she should only need the sling on her shoulder for another week or two. That didn't stop the pain and stiffness from taking over from time to time.

She walked to the rear passenger side of the car, opened the door and was unable to keep a smile off of her face. Shay scowled from her spot in the back seat of the car. "Stop smirking at me," she reprimanded.

Dawson shook her head. "I'm not smirking, I'm smiling."

"Then stop smiling at me, this is embarrassing," Shay answered as Severide positioned the wheelchair beside the car and then leaned down to pick Shay up.

"Don't be embarrassed, this is a good thing," Dawson countered.

Shay grunted as Severide transferred her to the chair as smoothly and gently as possible. "Nope, definitely embarrassing."

Severide began pushing her towards their apartment building while Dawson shut the car door after grabbing Shay's bag from the seat. "You're finally home. There's nothing to be upset about today," Kelly answered, his smile evident in his voice.

"You have to help me do everything. How is that not a mortifying thought to you? I know it is for me," Shay argued.

Severide paused momentarily while that thought sunk in, but quickly recovered and continued towards the building. "You're right, I definitely didn't sign up for that. Good thing Dawson did."

"What?" Shay asked as she tried to turn and look at her partner.

Dawson shrugged her good shoulder, even though she knew that Shay couldn't see it. "We were going to wait until we were inside the apartment to surprise you," she began to explain. "But, seeing as that didn't work out, I guess we could tell you now. Severide and I discussed it and we thought it was in everyone's best interest for me to move in temporarily."

"What?" Shay asked again.

Severide walked through the front door of the building as Dawson held the door. He smiled down at his friend. "Yeah, we thought Dawson staying here with us would make the most sense. She's going to be on Performance of Duty leave for a while, and you're going to need help. This place ain't cheap sweetheart, so one of us has to go back to work."

"We also thought that being in your own home made more sense for your recovery than trying to put you anywhere else," Dawson explained as she slid the key into the door of the apartment Shay and Severide shared.

"So, I hate to break it to you kid," Dawson said as Severide pushed Shay into the apartment. "You're stuck with me for a while."

Shay swatted at Severide's arm and pivoted the wheelchair in a clockwise circle. "What?" she reiterated for a third time once she was looking at her friends.

Dawson smirked and Severide beamed at the blonde. He walked further into the apartment. "We rearranged the rooms, so you are taking over my room on the bottom floor and I'm taking yours on the second floor," Severide tried to explain.

Dawson nodded, "And we switched out the couch, so now it's a fold out for me to sleep on. This way you have the comfort of your own place with the live in health care of your own personal paramedic."

"Gabby," Shay started, the emotion obvious in her tone, "all of this is unnecessary."

Dawson tossed Shay's bag onto the couch. "It's not a big deal."

"It is," Shay argued. "If I get the comfort of my own place, then you should too. I can manage."

Dawson walked towards Shay and knelt down so she was on Shay's level. "I really don't mind. Let me do this for you."

Shay sighed. Everything that Dawson wasn't saying was obvious in her eyes. Let me do this for you because it's my fault.

She reached out and covered Dawson's hand that was resting on the arm of her chair. "Fine. And as I've said before, this is not your fault."

Dawson smiled sadly at her friend and then stood so she could take Shay's bag into the blonde's room.

Severide awkwardly cleared his throat as Dawson left the room. "The couch work for you?"

Shay nodded, but didn't take her eyes off of the retreating Latina. Severide simply rolled his eyes and pushed the wheelchair over to the couch before he gently moved Shay onto it. Once she was settled, he looked at her seriously. "You should tell her."

Shay's gaze snapped to him immediately. "Tell her what?" she asked in the high pitch tone that meant she was hiding something.

"You know. Stop beating around the bush and just tell her. It's something that should be out in the open between you two," Severide said.

"And if it pushes her further away?"

"It won't."

"But what if it does?" Shay asked again.

"It won't," Severide countered.

"I can't lose her," she said quietly.

"You won't," Severide assured as he stood. He handed the remote to Shay and squeezed her good shoulder. "Just think about it," he reasoned.

"Think about what?" Dawson asked as she came back into the room.

"What to order for dinner," Severide covered easily. "Lord knows none of us can cook."

Dawson saw the tears that were welling up in Shay's eyes and knew that something was going on with her friend. She wanted to ask what it was, yet couldn't bring herself to do it. She filed the information away for a later conversation before she said "Hey, I can cook!"

"Maybe you should call Laura and have her cook something for you," Severide tossed over his shoulder as he walked towards the door.

"I'm not asking Antonio's wife to cook for us," Dawson argued.

Severide laughed as he grabbed his gear bag. "Whatever you say, Dawson. I'm headed into work, I'll see you two tomorrow night."

"Stay safe," both medics yelled out as he walked out the door.

"What now?" Shay asked as a comfortable silence settled between them.

"Just find something to watch and I'll figure out what we're going to eat," Dawson answered.

Shay smirked as she turned on the TV and immediately started to flip through the channels.

Xxx-xxxxx-xxX

"How is Shay adjusting to being home?" Casey asked as he and Severide tossed their bags in their respective lockers.

"It's going to take some getting used to. The doctor said she's going to be in the chair for a while, but Dawson is going to be there to help so it might not be that bad," Severide explained.

Casey hesitated, the question obvious in his expression.

Severide sighed, "You still haven't talked to her?"

"She said she wanted space," Casey shrugged.

Severide rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean cut all contact with the woman."

Casey had the decency to blush. "I was just trying to do what she asked."

They both walked out into the common room of the fire house. "She's doing okay. Her injuries are healing nicely. The doctors and physical therapist think she'll be back to work in a month or two."

"That's good news," Casey sighed in relief.

"Dawson is nothing if not resilient."

Casey's response was cut short by the alarm going off in the house. Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3 respond for a structure fire. 2000 block of West Rice Street.

Severide shook his head as he and Casey headed towards the bay to grab their turn out gear for the call.

Xxx-xxxxx-xxX

An hour passed as the men of Station 51 worked to put out the fire. As it turned out, the building had been vacant for years and a quick sweep inside confirmed that there wasn't anyone in there. Once it was obvious that the flames were out, Casey and Severide went inside to see if they could find an ignition point. Buildings like this one were easy targets for arsonists, and they wanted to make sure they weren't dealing with one now.

Casey sighed as he walked down the stairs to the basement. So far they hadn't found anything that would suggest this was anything other than an accident. He stepped off the bottom stair and turned the corner to look into the large room. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Severide almost ran into his back. "What the hell Casey!?"

Casey took a few more hesitant steps towards the far wall. "Are you seeing this?"

Severide came to a stop next to him. "We need to call Boden down here."

"Yeah," Casey nodded in agreement. He suddenly felt numb. None of what they were seeing made any sense. "We need to call Antonio too," he whispered.

Severide took the last few steps so he was standing directly in front of the grotesque collage that was currently occupying an entire wall of the basement.

He reached a shaky hand out and let his fingers graze the many newspaper clippings and photos. "All of them have to do with Dawson and Shay."

His fingers traced the cut marks that covered the paramedics' faces in another picture.

"He put X's over their faces," Casey murmured beside him.

"Someone has it out for them," Severide agreed.

"Kelly."

Severide turned to look at Casey who had moved a little way down along the wall. He was now standing in front of a blueprint.

"What is that?" Severide asked.

Casey turned slowly to look at the other firefighter. "It's the blueprint of the building the bomb was in."

That knowledge settled heavy in Severide's stomach. The fear that was currently threatening to strangle him from the inside out was plainly displayed on Casey's face.

"The bomb was meant for Dawson and Shay."