A/N: I finished another chapter so now I get to post one! We're getting back into the case and the angst with this chapter! Hope you're ready for it!
Happy reading!
angellwings
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: I've Got Your Back
The truck parks along the sidewalk outside the firehouse no different than it does any other day, but today isn't just any other day. Today is different. Today he and Sylvie are different together.
"So," she says as he cuts the engine. "We agree that we're not going to make a big deal about it, right? I mean they all pretty much knew about us before the date and they're too smart and nosy for their own good."
He nods. "Yes, we're agreed. They'll put it all together without us telling them."
They both get out of the truck and meet up on the sidewalk, reaching for each other's hands as they walk. After almost 48 hours of nearly nonstop physical contact today is going to be difficult. They don't let go of each other until entering the Firehouse. Sylvie presses a quick kiss to his cheek and then splits off from him to head toward the bull pen.
He watches her go with a grin, distracted by the sway of her hips in her black dress pants. He could get used to the office professional version of Sylvie Brett. That's definitely a fantasy he'd be willing to indulge. When he turns to head toward the locker room, he nearly collides right into Severide.
"So, did you make good use of me not coming back to the loft the last two nights?" He asks with a sharp smirk. "Please say you did or else Stella will continue to hold me hostage in that cubby hole of an apartment she rents."
"I will not be answering that question," Casey replies with a grin and a scoff. "But what I will say is that from here on out no one will be sleeping on our couch."
"Stella will be very happy to hear it," Kelly says with a nod and a chuckle. He slaps Matt on the back and points a genuine smile in his direction. "Seriously, though, I'm happy for you, man. For both of you."
"Thanks. You know, I'm happy for me too," Matt tells him with a cocky smirk while he turns his back on Severide and continues to the locker room.
Shift goes on. It's a busy day with one call after the other, and every time Sylvie is waiting at Tower when they get back. They never exchange much more than relieved and reassuring glances but he likes the idea that she worries while he's gone. He feels like it's been a long time since he's had someone dedicated enough to worry about him like she does. When lunchtime rolls around, Sylvie joins them in the common area like she does everyday - only today she leads Foster and Kidd over to the long table and sits next to him.
They turn their chairs just slightly closer causing their arms and legs to brush up against each other. There's nothing overly demonstrative about it, but it thrills him nonetheless. Everything is different but only if you know what you're looking for. Their friends obviously do because the amount of secretive looks and meaningful smiles exchanged around them is a bit excessive.
After lunch, everything slows down a bit. He retreats to his quarters to finish up the paperwork he didn't really have time to do that morning. At around four o'clock, Sylvie knocks at his open doorway.
He glances up at her and feels an involuntary smile overtake his face. She reflects it right back at him.
"Hey," he greets as he stands and pulls her further into the room.
As she replies, he shuts the door and the blinds behind her.
"Hi."
Once that's out of the way, he wraps one arm around her waist and cups her face with his other hand and guides her lips to his. It doesn't take any coaxing for her to follow his lead. She wraps an arm around his neck and let's that hand slide into the hair on the back of his head. Her other hand lands on his stomach and slowly slides upward to stop on his shoulder. She took her sweet time getting it there though and everywhere her hand touched tingled with electric energy.
The kiss deepens as their lips part. The hand he has resting on her hip slides under the fabric of her loose flowing blouse. Allowing him access to her heated soft skin. The hand on his shoulder slides back down and untucks his white Captain's shirt from his trousers. He groans into her mouth when her hand slides up his chest yet again, this time with her skin against his. He starts to walk her back toward his cot when she lets out a soft squeak and then pushes gently against his chest.
"Wait," she mumbles against his lips.
"What?" He asks as he blinks at her through a fog of want and need. "You okay?"
"Yes," she replies, her kiss swollen lips forming a pout. "I just remembered why I came in here and it doesn't really give us a lot of time for what we're about to do."
Well, damn, that's disappointing. He reels her in for one more soft kiss before pulling her hand out from under his shirt and squeezing it. "We'll pick up where we left off later, then. Did you need something?"
"Just came in here to let you know Chief Boden is giving me a ride to the precinct to meet with Spencer. Trudy's going to get a couple of officers to take me back to your place after," she reminds him.
He nods and feels an inexplicable sinking sensation in his gut. He knows he told her things would likely be fine yesterday, but anytime he's thought about Hope's case since then he's felt nothing but dread.
"Right," he says. "Will you call me after and let me know what he says?"
"Of course," she agrees easily. She smiles warmly at him and then steals a quick chaste kiss. "I should go. Boden's waiting on me. Be careful out there. Copy?"
"Copy," he replies. "I'll see you in the morning."
"You'd better," she says with a warning glare. "No crazy cowboy moves while I'm gone."
He laughs and shrugs. "I don't make promises I can't keep."
She playfully rolls her eyes at him as she opens the door. "Fair enough, I guess. See you at home, Matt."
"See you at home," he repeats.
His wide smile stays in place until long after she's gone. He has just enough time to finish up his paperwork from that morning before things get crazy yet again. By the time it all dies down, shift is almost over and he's not had one moment to stop and worry about Sylvie's meeting with Spencer. He checks his phone as he gathers his things to leave the firehouse and doesn't see any missed calls or text messages. That sinking feeling in his gut is back. He wonders if maybe she forgot. Or if she got caught up in something else. But something tells him it's neither of those things.
He tries to call her while he's walking to his truck and gets no answer. He worries the entire drive home. He and Severide arrive at the same time. When the door opens, they find the loft eerily quiet and seemingly empty.
Matt's mind immediately pieces together Brett's radio silence with the empty loft and begins to fear the absolute worst case scenario. (The bastard that killed Hope is back and he has Sylvie.) It's unlikely. He knows that, but his imagination is unstoppable at this point. He drops his bag by the couch and practically sprints back to his room. He manages to not kick the door in and it's a good thing he didn't because laying curled up in his bed is Sylvie.
He breathes a deep sigh of relief and quietly shuts the door behind him. As he toes off his shoes, he realizes he's torn between relief and anger. Anger that she didn't answer his calls and texts or reach out to him after she got home like she initially promised. But then relief that all his worst fears were wrong. That she's safe and sound in his bed.
He doesn't realize until he crawls into bed next to her that she's still awake. She's curled into a fetal position with her back facing him. Her breathing appears to be even and relaxed.
But then she sniffles. And it's not a light sniffle or even a sniffle that might indicate a cold. It's a harsh messy sniffle and it sends a jolt of heartbreak down his spine. His anger is immediately forgotten. Something is seriously wrong. He reaches out and rubs a hand across her shoulder blades.
"Sylvie?" He asks softly.
She gasps through a sob and rolls to face him the minute her name leaves his lips. She tucks her face into the curve of his neck and wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly. It only takes a moment for a wet spot to begin growing on his sweater. His arms go around her and rub up and down her arms and back in a consoling gesture. He still has no idea what's wrong, but he can guess Spencer didn't have anything encouraging to say.
"They're giving up on the case," she croaks through her tears.
"What?" He asks with a furrowed brow. "Why?"
She sniffles and stumbles through her answer. He wishes he could tell her not to worry about answering, but he can't help her till he knows what's going on. "Their leads have gone cold. Spencer says he's hit a dead end and he has other cases that need to take priority."
What. The. Fuck.
He knew that Detective Spencer was gonna be useless. He could tell from the very beginning. What the hell was he doing to solve the case anyway? How could all the leads have gone cold? It doesn't make any sense. The anger he'd almost directed at Sylvie is back and bigger than ever. He imagines having a rather strong word with Spencer. He gets a little lost in imagining that hypothetical conversation until Sylvie lets out a soggy chuckle and presses a kiss to his neck.
"Matt, you will not go talk to him."
"What?" He asks in surprise. How did she know what he was thinking?
"Your arms are stiff around me and your jaw is clenched. Call me crazy, but that seems like the body language of outraged Casey," Sylvie tells him with a sad grin.
"I told you, I'm not going to let you spend your life looking over your shoulder and I meant it," he reminds her before kissing the top of her head.
"I'm not sure what either of us can do about that," she says. Her voice sounds thick with tears again.
He tries his best to relax his arms and shoulders. Sylvie feeling his own tension isn't helping anything. Now is the time to focus on her. He'll worry about Spencer later.
"We'll figure it out," he assures her.
She sighs hopelessly and shakes her head against his neck. "Let's just face it. It's over. The guy got away with it. My life will never go back to normal. I'm never really going to feel safe ever again. I can buy a new car or get a new apartment but it won't matter. And all this time that I've-" she stops to inhale and exhale a shaky breath. He still feels a growing wet spot on his sweater so he knows the tears haven't stopped. "All this time that I've been staying here doesn't mean a thing. I've let myself become a pathetic, codependent burden for nothing. I can't even do my job, Matt. This is...God, this is like being in Fowlerton all over again. The only thing I'm good for is cooking and cleaning."
"That is not true," he replies immediately.
"It is," she disagrees through a sob. "I never wanted to be that person again and I've done everything I can to avoid it and yet…"
Her sentence trails off as words become impossible through the heart wrenching sound of her tears. He hates this. She doesn't deserve any of this. He somehow manages to gather her closer. Their legs tangle together as he holds her to his chest. He doesn't really know how to make this any better or what to say to offer her comfort. A part of him can't believe she's telling him all of this. He's not used to being let this far in. Not that Sylvie has really ever shut him out but he's never had a relationship with someone who shared quite this much. He wishes she wasn't going through this, but he's grateful she's letting him be there for her.
"You're not a burden," he says against the top of her head. "You're sure as hell not pathetic. You've been handling this better than I ever would, Sylvie. You're strong and brilliant. Fiercely independent. Letting people help you every now and then does not make you codependent. If Severide and I weren't here to help, you'd make it work. I have no doubt about that." He rubs his hands up and down her back and breathes steadily for her, hoping she'll mimic him. She does. Her tears are still falling but her breathing evens out. "I don't care what Spencer told you, this isn't over. We're not letting it end like this."
He feels her nod, but she doesn't say anything else. Her arms tighten around him and she heaves a big tired huff.
"I've got your back, Sylvie. I promise."
He hears a soft whimper as she nods again but a moment later the tears are back. This time he doesn't say anything. He simply holds her through it. She cries for several minutes until the tears fade away. He cranes his neck back to look at her. She's blinking slowly with heavy eyelids.
She sighs in exhaustion and when she speaks her voice sounds hoarse and raw. "Thank you, Matt."
"Anytime," he replies, listening to her breathing as it deepens.
She relaxes against his side and the next time he looks down her eyes are closed and her expression is peaceful. She's asleep. He's grateful she was able to relax enough to sleep but his anger is still simmering under the surface. She cried herself to sleep and, goddammit, that never should have happened. She shouldn't be in this position in the first place.
He will not let it stand. Next opportunity he gets he's calling Boden. He'll know where to take this from here. Spencer doesn't get to give up and leave Sylvie vulnerable. Not on his watch.
