A/N: Hello! Finally posting early again because I managed to get my three chapter lead back! Wasn't last week's episode SO GOOD? Sylvie and Matt being wholesome pure hearted amazing people is always a win but ESPECIALLY when they work together. I've watched it far too many times. I may have it memorized at this point. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It's one of my favorites I've written for this fic so far.
Happy reading!
angellwings
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He wakes up on the couch the next morning and immediately turns his attention toward the closed bathroom door. Light is slipping out through the crack under the door and the water is clearly running but aside from all that he hears…
Singing.
He grins softly and steps up to the door, pressing his ear against it to get a better listen. It's a Pat Benetar song. He can just barely make out Sylvie's voice above the rushing water. It's a small thing but he loves listening to her sing. The fact that she's comfortable enough now to do it quietly and casually while hanging around the apartment causes an unnamed warmth to spread out across his chest. It replaces his early morning bleariness with a burst of energy. The kind of energy rivaled only by a warm cup of coffee. It seems like the perfect way to start the morning.
"Casey," a voice calls with audible smugness.
He snaps his head toward the voice and jumps away from the door, knowing he's been caught. He finds Stella and Severide watching him with barely contained amusement.
"Please tell me you're not trying to spy on Brett in the shower?" Kelly asks as Matt pads his way down the hall — away from Brett's singing.
He flips him off as he passes him to grab a coffee mug. "No, she's singing. I was…" his sentence fades as he quickly realizes he has no acceptable excuse to offer them. "She has a good voice, okay?"
Stella chuckles and pats his back consolingly. "God, you're a sap. It's cute, though. Soft and smiley looks good on you, Casey."
"Can we not tell Brett I did that?" He asks them with a sigh.
"Not tell Brett you did what?"
Three heads swivel toward the hall to find Brett standing in the open bathroom doorway (wearing only a towel). There's a blank pause while they try to figure out how to respond. Matt knows he won't be any help. The combination of Sylvie in only a towel and her post shower coconut and tropical flower smell means his brain has completely malfunctioned.
Thank God for Stella.
"Oh, it's nothing," she replies with a breezy wave of her hand. "He rolled off the couch in his sleep and bonked his head on the coffee table."
Sylvie looks immediately concerned and marches closer. "Oh my god, Matt. Are you okay?"
She's directly in front of him now and he's unexpectedly in the thick of not only her fragrance but also the cloud of humidity radiating off of her from her hot shower. A lot of her skin is exposed but she hasn't seemed to realize it yet. She's too worried about him.
"Where did you hit it?" She asks after his silence lingers too long.
He looks stunned. He knows he does. Which might work best for this hit on the head yarn Stella's just spun. His dazed state is his only explanation for his answer.
"Uh, you know, the table leg — I think."
Sylvie's eyes light up with humor and she presses her lips together to hide a grin. "I, uh," she stops and the barest chuckle escapes her. "I meant where'd you hit your head?" She turns to Kidd and Severide without waiting for him to answer, concern and amusement mingling in her eyes. "Do I need to check him for signs of a concussion? He seems pretty out of it."
That brings him back to the present in an instant. He's not letting her stress herself out over a fake injury. "No. No, I'm fine, really. I hit it back here somewhere," he answers as he vaguely motions to the back of his head. "I've had worse. I just need a couple of Advil. It was more embarrassing than painful," he assures her. He instinctively moves to pat or squeeze her shoulder, he's not sure, only to freeze with his hand hovering over her bare skin. He yanks his hand back with an embarrassed wince.
His stilted movement brings Sylvie's attention downward which seems to jog her memory about her current apparel.
She blushes from her, previously noted, bare shoulders to the tip of her hairline. "Oh—I forgot that I was—I was so worried about you that I didn't—" She cuts off her own nervous chattering and breathes deeply. "I should go. You know, get dressed." She turns on her heel and hastily retreats before Matt can utter a single word in response.
The moment his bedroom door shuts behind Brett, Severide scoffs through a quiet laugh. "Smooth, Casey. Real smooth."
Casey flips Kelly off for the second time that morning and returns his focus to pouring a cup of coffee.
"So, you're going car shopping with her today?" Severide asks as he nods toward Casey's room, obviously implying he's referring to Sylvie.
"Yeah," he says as he leans against the kitchen counter.
Severide smirks teasingly at him. "Does she know that you have the most boring taste in cars on the planet?"
"I'm assuming by boring you mean safe, practical, and economic?" Matt tosses back with a quirked brow.
"Wow," Kidd replies with a laugh. "Well, don't worry, Soccer Dad. Brett's not much on flashy or fast either. You'll be fine."
Matt prepares himself breakfast. He's just finished the bacon when Sylvie emerges from his room. She's dressed and ready for the day. She looks casual and gorgeous. Her blonde hair is down — wavy and loose — and her makeup is light and barely noticeable. She doesn't need to try very hard to look breathtakingly beautiful.
"Smells good," she tells him as she fixes herself a cup of coffee.
"Thanks, you had anything yet?" He asks.
She shakes her head and he immediately adds more bacon to the skillet.
"How do you like your eggs?"
"Oh, Casey, you don't have to—"
"I'm already making breakfast for myself, Sylvie. It's not like I'm going out of my way here," he tells her with a gentle amused smile.
She blushes and nods. "Okay then. However you like your eggs is fine. I'm not picky."
She leans her hip against the counter next to him and slowly sips her coffee. He tries not to be distracted by her. He's only half succeeding. He thinks he should probably say something and start a conversation, but before he can Kidd makes her way to Sylvie.
"So, do you remember our conversations about you getting back out there? Dating again?"
Brett's eyes drift to him for just a moment before finding Stella's. "Yes?"
"Well, I need a favor and I think this may be one of those rare honest-to-goodness win-win scenarios," Kidd tells her.
Sylvie's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why do you think that?"
"One of my friends from high school has an older brother coming into town for a job interview, and he's sort of an introvert and doesn't know anyone here so I told her Kelly and I would take him out one night. You know, feed him and get him a little buzzed," Stella says with a wink. "Then Kelly pointed out that if it's us and him then he might feel a bit like a third wheel — which fair point — so I thought maybe you might—"
"Stella, I don't know," Brett replies hesitantly.
Matt tries not to listen as he finishes the bacon and gets the eggs out of the fridge. But it's hard to ignore a conversation happening right next to him.
"Oh, come on, he's cute and a total gentleman, plus he's from out of town so if you're not into him then you won't see him around anywhere. I keep a promise to my friend and you get a no consequences night out on the town," Kidd argues. "Win-win. You have to admit you need a night out. You've been cooped up since the accident."
It all sounds perfectly logical to him, he thinks as he cracks and beats enough eggs for him and Sylvie. A stab of jealousy twists in his gut like a knife. He doesn't see how she can say no — or why she would want to. Why is he waiting to make a move again?
"I...I don't know. Can I think about it?" Sylvie asks, sounding anxious and unsure.
"Sure, yeah," she answers. "It's not till next weekend anyway. Just let me know."
Sylvie nods. "Right. You'll know as soon as I do."
Matt breathes a sigh of relief and starts scrambling the eggs. She still might say yes but at least he won't have to hear it up close and personal. He's right on the edge of waiting too long — the thing Severide (and Kidd) warned him not to do.
Awkwardness permeates the air between himself and Brett. He finishes the eggs and hands her a plate before making one for himself. She takes her plate and her coffee over to the couch but he doesn't follow. He needs to think. Clearly and objectively.
Is now the right time? Would he only be asking to keep her from seeing anyone else? Is that a good reason to pursue something with her? Does he have to have a reason? Isn't it enough that he has real feelings for Brett or that he genuinely believes they might be good for each other?
He needs to think and figure out the answers to all those questions. He eats quickly and then heads to the bathroom to shower. He'll think while he gets ready for the day.
Is it just her or is Matt acting strange after her conversation with Stella? Could he be jealous? No, he couldn't. Could he?
He was just in a rush to get ready. They were running later than she wanted and that's all it was.
Even now as they walk around the dealership things are still tense. There's ice between them that needs to be broken. For lack of a better idea, she goes for levity.
"You know, I've been thinking," she starts. "If I have to get a new car, I should get something I really want. Don't you think?"
"I don't see why not," Casey agrees.
"Great!" She says with an overly bright smile. She jogs a few paces to a car in the far corner of the used section of the lot and turns with her arms posed like Vana White. "Then I want this one."
Casey freezes and then guffaws with loud laughter just like she'd hoped.
"You want a used burnt orange Ford Pinto from nearly fifty years ago?" He asks dryly.
"Absolutely!" She lies as she stands back to look at the monstrosity of a car with her hands on her hips. "It's perfect! Who needs safe or reliable modern day cars anyway?"
He smirks at her, obviously in on her bit, and plays along. "Yeah, airbags are a total waste of money," he replies dryly.
"Completely unnecessary," she confirms with half of a grin.
He shakes his head and grins at her with a muted chuckle. "Seriously," he says. "What are we looking for?"
There. That seems to have done it. Ice officially shattered.
"Whatever I can afford that's safe and economical on gas," she says with a shrug. "I just need it to get me where I want to go while being capable of playing the specifically curated playlists on my phone."
Matt lets a short good humored scoff and nods. "Well, obviously."
"My last two cars have been bland silver sedans and before that I drove my ex's old Jeep from high school," she informs him with a self deprecating chuckle. "I'm not exactly a car person. I just want it to work well, play music, and require very little maintenance."
"Sounds easy enough to manage."
He turns out to be right. It is easy — too easy. There are a plethora of options. It's a bit overwhelming. Casey helps her narrow it down with a quick phone call to Severide. It pays to have a friend who knows their stuff when it comes to automobiles. He gives them three reliable and affordable brands so that's where they plan to start.
Except, when she sits inside the first car to test drive it, she can't do it. The car is on, her seatbelt is fastened, and her hands are on the wheel...but she can't shift it into drive or press the gas. Her mind won't make her body do it. Panic floods her chest, pushing against her heart and her still healing rib.
Matt's in the passenger seat and the salesman is in the back. The salesman is saying she's welcome to start when she's ready.
Ready? When she's ready? What kind of phrasing is that?
She feels Matt's concern the minute he notices her hesitance. She stops herself from looking over at him to focus on her breathing. Now is not the time to hyperventilate. What is wrong with her?
Just put the car in drive and hit the gas, Sylvie!
She begins to reach and force herself to do it when a loud yell sounds from a far off spot on the lot. Headlights flash across her memory and she startles— bumping her head on the roof of the car and causing a twist of pain in her side.
"I can't!" She exclaims suddenly as she rips the driver's side door open and struggles to unbuckle her seat belt.
Tears fill her eyes and she feels frantic fear prickling goosebumps over the back of her neck. Her fingers keep missing the seat belt release and in her haze of panic breathing becomes increasingly difficult.
A hand wraps around her wrist and her first instinct is to yank herself free. The hand releases her wrist and then hovers in the air — palm up and flat.
"Whoa, whoa, Sylvie?"
Matt's voice breaks through the fog. She glances up and his eyes immediately capture hers.
"I—I need out," she tells him with an involuntary sniffle. "And I can't get the seatbelt to...I need out."
He reaches out with the same hand that wrapped around her wrist earlier and presses the button. The seatbelt retracts and Sylvie leaps from the car. She stands next to it with the door open and her face in her hands while Matt cuts the engine. She can hear him excusing himself from the salesman and handing him the keys before following after her.
She hears his footsteps and feels his presence long before he ever says a word. Matt creates a bubble of safety and stability for her anytime they're together. It's been that way for a long time — long before she ever noticed it. It's that bubble that surrounds her as he approaches now.
His arms stay at his sides but she wishes they wouldn't. She wants them around her. Her adrenaline is still pumping from the panic and there's even more adrenaline coursing through her as the embarrassment starts to hit her. It's quickly spilling over into her tears that have yet to fall from her eyes. What is wrong with her? Why can't she get it together?
After a lingering torturous moment, Matt wraps his arms around her and slowly reels her into his chest.
"This okay?" He asks. "Earlier, I scared you so I didn't—"
Her arms go around him and she holds him tightly, cutting off his sentence.
"Yes," she answers eagerly through thick swallow. "Yes, this is okay. More than okay."
He nods and breathes a sigh of relief. She feels the movement against her cheek and his breath across her neck as his arms hold her closer.
"Do you want to get out of here?" He asks in a whisper, trying to ward off any further attention — for her sake she assumes.
"Yes, please," she replies. "I—I can't be here right now."
He steps out of her arms and then guides her through the lot with a protective hand on the small of her back. He keeps that hand there until she steps up into his truck. She keeps to herself and focuses on her breathing in order to calm herself and hold her tears at bay.
The quiet gives her time to think about what happened. She hadn't had any dreams about the accident since she started staying with Casey and Severide. She thought she was moving forward but that flash of headlights and the yell she heard….
Were those even real?
Casey parks outside of the apartment building and turns off the truck, but neither of them move to get out.
Sylvie bites the inside of her cheek and lets one tear fall silently. "I...I think I'm losing my mind, Matt."
"You're not," he assures her immediately.
"I saw headlights shining in my face in the middle of the day. That's not normal," she admits as she frustratedly wipes at her face.
"Everybody deals with trauma differently. You're not losing anything."
"I haven't had the dream since we got back from Fowlerton. I really thought I was getting better."
"You are," he declares as he angles himself in the driver's seat so he can face her. "I see it every day, Sylvie. But it's not gonna be smooth sailing. It's bound to resurface every once in a while." He pauses and glances down at his steering wheel before finding her eyes again. "Have you driven at all since that night?"
Her brow furrows and she shakes her head. "No, my car was totaled and even if it wasn't my rib keeps me from going to the gym or work—"
"Exactly," Casey interrupts while he reaches over to squeeze her shoulder. "Being in a car similar to yours and being behind the wheel…"
"...was bound to bring up stuff," she says, picking up his sentence.
He nods to confirm her statement but doesn't add anything else. It does make sense. It doesn't make it any less humiliating, but it makes sense.
"So, what? I'm never going to be able to drive again?" She asks with a pouting huff.
"I'm sure you will," he answers quickly. "Just...not today. Maybe you need to be eased back into it. I don't know. We'll figure it out."
He sounds so determined and confident — in her and for her — that she can't help but believe him. If Casey thinks everything will be alright then it will be. Simple as that.
"In the meantime," he says with a bashful smile. "I'm more than happy to drive you around. You've got a personal chauffeur anytime you need one."
"A personal chauffeur, huh?" She asks as a begrudging smile overtakes her face. She doesn't want to be smiling but the idea of Casey driving her around anywhere she needs to go is too sweet to avoid it.
He nods. "Whenever you want."
She wipes her wet cheeks one final time before pointing her smile at him. "Okay, then how about you drive me to Molly's tonight?"
He matches her smile with one of his own and lets his hand fall from her shoulder. While it falls, he accidentally grazes his fingers down the length of her upper arms. His hand lands on the middle console, right next to hers.
She lets herself imagine slipping her fingers in between his and holding his hand. If she were braver, she would do it. But she's not braver and right now she needs him in her life. He's her gravity in a world turned topsy-turvy. She's not willing to make things awkward on the extremely off chance he feels the same way she does.
"Consider it done," he says. "You and me and Molly's. Tonight."
"Perfect," she replies. It's the truth. Having drinks at Molly's with Casey does sound perfect.
If only it were a date then it actually would be perfect.
Who is she kidding? Fat chance of that. There's no way, given their messy history, that Matt is interested. It's far more likely that he's still hung up on Gabby's visit, and the last place she wants to be is in between the two of them.