A/N: Hello wonderful readers! I'm going to try to update more frequently, I know many of you probably need some things to look forward to right now, so I'll keep writing in whatever free time I have! Any ideas for other Chicago stories - private message me if you want to read a story about other couples or shows! Love reading your reviews, keep them coming!
They rushed to the scene of a car accident, a motorcyclist cutting in between lines of traffic had caused a massive accident when he'd hit a turning car. The bike was lodged in the grill of a pick up, having ricocheted off a blue sedan. The pick up driver had a bloody nose from the air bag, but seemed otherwise unharmed. The sedan driver, however, had a smashed in driver's side door that was preventing him from being able to exit his vehicle. When he was finally free, Sylvie and Foster assessed his broken legs, rushing him to Med. The motorcycle driver somehow had walked away, and P.D. was looking for him. As they exited the hospital and headed back to their rig, Foster commented, "this world is so unfair sometimes."
"Tell me about it."
Returning to 51, Sylvie sighed as she climbed out of the rig, headed to the bunk room to lay down for a bit. She had a splitting headache.
"Brett? Can I talk to you?" Called Casey's voice from his quarters.
Oh, great. "Um, actually I have to inventory the ambulance so-" she began, spinning on her heel to walk away from him.
"Now, Brett." He said sternly. Then in a quieter voice, "please don't make me order you."
She glanced around, noting the few people in the bunk room where watching the exchange, confusion on their faces. Stella looked wide eyed, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Cruz and Tony continued walking past Sylvie, looking over their shoulders oddly at Casey as they passed her.
She slowly walked into his office, her eyes on the floor, and he pushed the door closed behind her.
"What the hell is going on, Sylvie? I think you left out a major detail when you told Boden you're pregnant."
She sighed, "I know. I'm just... Just not ready for all of this."
"All of what?"
"This." She motioned at him, nervously wringing her hands.
"I don't understand..."
"I'm just not ready for the drama, Matt. Besides, you and I haven't exactly figured out our plan, I'd like to do that before the whole world knows."
"I told you, Sylvie. I'm here for whatever you need. I'm responsible for this too. But now when the truth does come out, I'm going to look like a serious asshole."
"You can blame it all on me-"
"Sylvie, you're not to blame. I'm the one who got you pregnant, I'm obligated to take just as much of the responsibility of this baby and all the drama that comes with it as you do."
She paused, replaying his words in her head. "Obligated?"
"What?"
"You said your obligated. Like this is just a duty..." she felt tears welling in her eyes. Damn these hormones.
"What? Why is that a bad thing?" He asked incredulously. Didn't she want him to take some responsibility?
Sylvie was speechless. How could he not see that she wanted to be more than just an obligation? She was hurt, thinking Casey only wanted to be close to her because he HAD to, not because he really wanted to. Meanwhile, he was thinking he was just trying to do the right thing by taking responsibility for his actions, like a man should. Why was she hiding him?
"Matt," she sniffed, "I think we have different ideas of what we want here," she said sadly.
"What makes you think that?"
"You clearly are only interested in me because your good morality makes you think it's some sort of duty-"
"I didn't say that!" He exclaimed loudly, and Sylvie saw through the glass in the door Stella had stood from her bunk, looking at the closed door with a concerned expression.
"Sylvie, whatever you need from me, I'll do it," he said quietly, "I'm going to love this baby-"
"What about me?"
He raised his eyebrows in question. "What about you?"
"Do you love me?"
He paused for too long, and she whirled away from him, pulling the door open, not wanting him to see the tears crashing down her cheeks. He tried to stop her, but she was running, pushing past Stella and out of the room.
Stella's gaze was fixed on the last spot Sylvie had been for a second before she turned to Casey, who stood open mouthed in the door of his office. Kidd stormed to the door, pushing him inside she slammed it shut, whipping around to face him with a scowl on her face.
"What the hell did you say?!" She hissed, smacking Casey's arm.
"Ow! I don't know! I was trying to say the right thing and she freaked out thinking I was only interested in being with her because she's pregnant," he said, rubbing his sore arm.
"Did you say something that implied you felt that way?!"
"All I said was that as the father of her baby I was obligated-"
"Obligated?!"
"What is everyone's issue with that word!" He groaned, slumping down into his desk chair.
"Dude, it makes it sound like you're being forced, like you're only supporting her because you have to," Stella explained.
"But that's not what I meant."
"Yeah, well she doesn't know that."
Casey sighed. Why were women always so confusing? Maybe he just lacked understanding. "I'll talk to her," he promised Stella, and turned back to his paperwork, trying to focus, but struggling. He was surprised when Sylvie asked if he loved her, that's why he hesitated. Surprised because after only a few months, the first answer to come to mind when she'd asked if he loved her was 'yes.' He had certainly had his share of complicated relationships, and so had Sylvie. Maybe they could make it work together, even though they didn't seem to be able to make it work with anyone else. But now they had a baby to think of. They had to make it work. They were his family. And that was the one thing Casey had been dreaming of his whole life, to have a family of his own. A whole family.
Casey sighed, double checking his paperwork and correcting some mistakes. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was time to go. He headed for the locker room and ran into Cruz.
"Hey, have you seen Sylvie? I'm running a bit behind, she might have to wait for me."
Joe frowned at him, "she left with Foster 10 minutes ago. Something about going to a club?"
As he watched Joe's retreating back, Casey felt anger building inside him. Was she just going to ignore him? Forever? After changing into his civilian clothes, he slammed his locker door, heading to his truck alone.
Sylvie pulled the hem of her dress down over her thighs for the umpteenth time. Her borrowed outfit was made for someone with much bolder outfit choices. Someone like Emily Foster. Sylvie felt like way to much of her body was exposed. Sitting at the bar with Foster at her right, she felt someone fill the void on her left. Turning, she saw a tall dark-haired man grinning at her.
"Hey, I'm Todd. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Um... no," Sylvie said curtly.
"Oh," the man's face took on a shocked expression, "I'm sorry, I was just trying to be friendly." He turned to go with a disappointed expression.
"Wait, wait," Sylvie called, touching his arm gently, "it's not your fault, it's me. I'm sorry, I just can't drink."
Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.
She continued, "I can't drink because I'm pregnant, so there's that. I'm pretty sure that's gonna change you wanting to buy me a drink but there it is."
His eyes got wide, looking around for a way out of this conversation, but Sylvie continued.
""I just... how did I end up like this, ya know? Am I crazy? I'm crazy. I'm pushing away the guy I like because I'm afraid of what? Being happy? You seem like a nice guy, do you think I'm crazy? Should I be worried about Casey's intentions?"
Todd was opened mouthed staring at Sylvie like she had three heads. Oops. She'd been rambling. She turned to Foster, who was shaking her head, a smirk on her face. Todd took the moment while her back was turned to make a run for it.
"Think I was too forward?" Sylvie asked Emily with a crooked grin.
Emily laughed, waving at the bartender. "Martini for me, water for my friend."
Sylvie finally got home after a surprisingly fun evening. She didn't know she could have so much fun on an alcohol-free evening at a club. Opening the door, she kicked off her shoes in the quiet space, heading for her bedroom.
"You were out late."
